#well he's mistaken i am weak

[cherry-flavoured-thot]

i am not dead just struggling <3333

[hohuios]

Tag drop: 2/2

[normystical]

lol dw about it, there's probably no way to not intimidate me at least a little when correcting me. Anxiety :P

character: is ace

fandom: Noo you can’t ship them with anyone they’re aroace

character: is aromantic

fandom: Guys you’re not supposed to depict them having sex they’re aroace

It’s not a lack of reading comprehension, you guys just can’t comprehend relationships that exist outside the social norm.

Also,

[circeyoru]

Collection of Overlords = Requested

[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

The Request

Part 1 (here) — Part 1.5 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9  — Part 10 — Part 11 — Part 12 — Part 13

Overlords. The sovereign rulers of various domains and areas of the Pride Ring. Sinners that rose to power through dealing with souls and troppling over the weak to show who’s the one in power and control. Together, they own millions of souls and representing the controlling powers of the city

Yet what sets them apart from the other demons in power? Why were they the sovereign rulers of their specialty and not another that claims or tries to threaten them so? 

There’s a system, a power even beyond them combined and rival that of the King and Queen’s, that stablizes them. A supporting system, if you will, one that approves of the Overlords’ existence. As other rings have their Sin to impose power and their form of order, Pride has something similar. The founder of the Overlords and owner of their souls; the Collector

To call yourself an Overlord and rule over some form of territory, be it a street, a block, a town, a building complex, you have been approved by the Collector. No, one doesn’t seek the Collector out, the Collector seeks them out. It proves potential, it proves worth, and it proves attention-worthiness. All Overlords know who were the real one by the mark on their souls, a stamp of proof, that they’d take pride in

Rarely to none would the Collector gather Overlords together. So they make their own gatherings to keep track of any new members to their collection. There were times when some would fake their claim, they were viciously shredded where they lied. There was barely any proof, the mere aura and presence was enough to tell

All Overlords were the Collector’s prized souls, their worth to the Collector is shown when their mark remains intact as time goes by. Once the Collector deemed the Overlord as trash, they are let go and the other remaining Overlords will devour to keep the collection worthy

It’s the Overlords’ goal and duty to remain relevant and strive to be stronger. Not only to secure their title as an Overlord, but to also stay within the Collector’s elite collection

“Do you hereby swear your allegiance to me, the Collector, so long as you are in my favour? In return for entering my collection, you will be protected and secured of your authority and strive in your domain. Know that only I am able to throw you away and none other should you fall beyond my interest and favour.”

“I solemnly gage (I solemnly swear).”

“Yes, as you wish.”

“Why, absolutely, Darling!”

“F**k yes!”

“Of course, Dear.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Naturally.”

“Hell’s yes!”

Alastor felt it, his soul like a beating heart when one meets their love. His smile widening and excitement building up within him. At the same time, there was the touch of nervousness too. He quickly made his way down to the lobby where Charlie was seen welcoming a few guest that wanted to be redeemed

Well, the hotel has been gaining popularity after the battle with the exterminators and the fact that they won was no secret or easy feat to pull. Maybe the renovations also played a part. But Charlie was none the wiser whenever someone was expressing a want to be redeemed 

Though to Alastor, it was a bigger deal when he spotted what was among the group of newcomers. There was no mistaken it, it had to be. While you were in disguise, you were still as elegant and commanding as the day he sold his soul to you and be the only one to have gained your attention and favour the fastest among your collection

Alastor held himself back, he wasn’t proper of him to interrupt Charlie’s little welcoming speech and you wouldn’t like it if he did. Luckily, while Charlie was busy with settling the other guest before you, he was given his chance to greet you

“Alastor, pleasure to be in your presence,” Alastor took your hand and kissed your knuckles, his eyes staring up at yours while he bowed low to show respect and the need to please. “Quite the pleasure.”

“Charmed.” You let a smirk form on your face, though it quickly fade to keep up with appearances

“May I inquire as to what brings you to this fine and renewed establishment?”

Charlie arrived in time to greet you as well. Being her usual cheerful and upbeat self even after all these years, and surviving the horrid battle against the angels. If you weren’t in disguise, you would have given her a pat on the head and a hug to comfort her. Yet you stick to your little plan and stayed level headed

It was merely to fine a place to stay, you explained how Vox was someone that had no sense of privacy with how he bugged everything. You kept the spying on you part to yourself, though you knew Alastor caught on when you mentioned Vox’s devices. Then you gestured to Alastor and praised that he was a perfect counter and addition to the hotel building since he cancels out Vox’s devices naturally

Alastor let out annoyed radio static when he learned of Vox displeasing you, how disrespectful. If only Vox could do even worse to be dropped out of the collection, then there’d be a real battle. Since deathly fights between the Overlords was forbidden. Still, Alastor could feel his smile widening at the superiority over Vox he had and praise he received, even with his 7 year disappearance, you didn’t let him go

Vaggie was quick to reject your stay and attempt to push you out when you weren’t even lying to want to be redeemed. Saying that the hotel wasn’t a rent-free place for demons to just show up to crash for their own amusement

Alastor was smart and quick to interject and maybe nearly slap Vaggie lobby but he managed to keep his hands behind his back. He gestured to the other guests as he made a point that turning away guest was rather rude for someone wanting to redeem demons. You added you can pay if it was too much, or just leave. Which gave Alastor a mini panic

Charlie agreed in the end and Vaggie received a look from Alastor while you thanked them with a smile. Alastor followed closely behind you while the tour was underway with the other new residents. When Charlie was arranging everyone’s stay, Alastor immediately had your room key ready, promising that it was the best room the hotel can provide. If you lacked anything, he’ll provide!

Since everything simmered down, you were in your room waiting for Alastor’s knock on your door to bring him to his radio tower that was guaranteed to not be listened in. He showed up at record time and offered you his hand to teleport the two of you to his tower

With a snap of your fingers, you let your disguise fall, revealing you in your glory and natural look. You sat on his desk while Alastor stood. The two of you started chatting then inquiring about the other’s well-being and current entertainment

It was rare, but you do visit your Overlords from time to time just to chat or catch up, it not only shows a want to connect and understand your souls, but also your continued interest in keeping them. There were times when your meeting with them could be a sign of you removing your hold over their soul, then it was a matter of time before the other Overlords knew about this development and hunt them down to own or destroy

An example was Husk. In your observant and keen eyes, you watched as he bet on the power and protection you granted him without a second thought, thinking that he would win back soon enough. Not soon enough for you as it would appear. You didn’t even visit him, you merely let him go without a word of warning. In fact, your patience and the extra time were your warnings

One that he didn’t even realize he was given. So Alastor set out to dominate Husk when he was removed from the collection. With Alastor’s win, he owned Husk’s soul and revealed that he was history to you. The look on Husk’s face was enough of a dedication to you, Alastor returned his dues

Though there were times when you allowed some lesser demons into your circle. Namely the Vees, specifically Valentino. He was at risk of your removal, yet time and time again, he was saved by Vox and Velvette who proved they work better as a team than individually like other Overlords. So to keep Vox and Velvette, Valentino was allowed to stay

That’s until you find more worthy ones

Yet it was in the Overlords’ nature to be the remaining one in your collection. To put down the other as a method of showing their superiority to you. You knew this ploy, so you set that they weren’t to fight or belittle the other with the aim to kill. You didn’t need or want souls that would harm other souls you hand picked

The Vees were your unique case. A case that was fragile to maintain. Wrong moves here and there, disrespectful words spatted out, risky actions committed. And they risk their entire group gone from your collection. Was there one that was save from your removal? Hardly, it was with a comparison does Vox and Velvette appear to be better

“When are you going to show me your wound, Alastor?” You got to your goal. You knew of the battle, you also knew Alastor took up the impossible task of defeating Adam to show you he was strong to remain in your elite. You knew your souls do their best to maintain your interest in them. Alastor was no different, especially when he disappeared for 7 years.

“A mere scratch! Nothing for you to worry over.” Alastor laughed, who was he lying to?

“It wasn’t a question.” You spoke with half-lid eyes staring back at him.

He flinched and bowed his head, slowly undoing his coat and shirt, finally showing you the large bandaged wound that was soaking with more blood by the minute. “It’s… not as bad as it seem…”

You becken him closer to you so you could inspect it. Silence filled the room. Alastor was ashamed, the silence was deafening to him, he can’t handle it. His heart beat fast, his mind wondered if you’re throwing him away like you did Husk. This was the calm before the storm.

His head jerked up when your soft hands pressed against the center of his chest, he’d have felt more of your touch if not for the layers of bandages. A warm feeling covered his wound and he felt energized and relaxed, his knees caving in when your hand retreated

He didn’t even realize his head was in your lap as his ears pinned back while your hands combed through his hair soothingly. His eyes closed from the peace he felt

It reminded him of the time when he first met you. How foolish was he to want to overtake you, to think you were weak, to think that you were only relying on the souls you collected. No, you held real power, power he can’t even imagine

“Alastor, you know I’m never going to let your soul go, right?”

“Thank you, My Liege.”

BONUS!

When another Overlord meeting was held, nearly all were in attendance. The news of your appearance was enough of a goad to draw in the others. Even the Vees were all present

Once everyone was seated, Alastor took the floor. You approached him, he wasn’t released by you, and you were staying where he was. As expected, there was an uproar. How was Alastor this lucky?!

Alastor directed to Vox, retelling your displeasure in his stalking while he defended that it was for protection. More eyes directed to Vox, seeing him as the reason why you weren’t as active as before, you were uncomfortable because of all the devices and camera Vox has around the city

“Hahaha! However you spin this to your favour, you can’t deny that Our Lovely Protector and Liege is vexed by your actions. So much so that Our Liege has seeked me out for haven! Now what’s to be done about that, hm?”

“You little!!!”

Meanwhile, you watched from the comforts of your room while a holographic display. A fond smile on your face and a chuckle of amusement let out, “I’ve collected quite the group, huh? I never get bored with them around.”

Note: Yes~ This is out now!! Wonder if you guys like this one. I'm wondering if I should add 'yandere', but then it's more like that, more of devotion and loyalty. Anyways! Love to hear your thoughts (if you have any)

I got a challenge for you though!! Can you name, in order, all the Overlords that were used to illustrate swearing allegiance to?

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland

@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

@mistpurpl3

[lainsshop]

I’m Your Man ୨ৎ

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Tags: angst(?), established relationship, out of character(?) n probably more..

Song: I’m Your Man - Mitski

A/N: i really don’t know about this one.. give me your thoughts tho!

Alastor is known as a huge narcissist, sure but you were the only one who got to see the “real” him, not only the real murderous side of him but also the soft spot he has for you. You made him feel.. weak?

Ever since you two got together, he view you as you were apart of him like an accessory but also much more than that, his lover. He absolutely adored you, you really accepted his flaw self even if he doesn’t admit he doesn’t have flaws.

He never wanted to admit to so many things cause he believes one second of him showing his weak self will make his enemies aware of that and it will put him and yourself in even more danger.

You were also the only one who got to see him in a vulnerable state, which is rare to be honest. Maybe he doesn’t wanna worry you, he really doesn’t but every time he’s in that state he would always come to you and you will listen to his words.

“You’re an angel, I’m a dog,” He started to slowly say as you two were in the hotels library. The door was locked, the sound of rain and fire cracking could be heard and a sweet slow tune next to you as you play with his hair and ears carefully.

“… or your dog and I’m your man.” There was times were he gets.. poetic in some way. Luckily, you knew what the meaning of his words meant.

He didn’t looked at you in the eyes. “You believe me like a God,” He continued. “I’ll destroy you like I am-” Oh, he could. He could easily hurt you in a second, he doesn’t tho. You being so near to him is like a risk to both of you cause he never hesitates to do anything. Like that night..

“I’m sorry I’m the one you love..” You see, you two met when you were alive, you were a lil bit younger than him by that time and he involved you into his weird habits like killing people, cannibalism, so much more and then your death..

Deep down, he blamed himself for that. That night, he took you into the woods to hide a body, usually it went well but then you guys got mistaken as a deer and the hunter got you first.. he looked at you dead body and then- he woke up in hell.

He couldn’t even process what happened in that exact moment so when he appeared in hell, he wasn’t surprised at all but then he remembered you. He genuinely thought you went to heaven but then again.. you helped him so he looked around.

“No one will ever love me like you again, my dear,” He finally looked at you as he grabbed you hand and gave it a small kiss. “So when you leave me, I should die.. I deserve it, don’t I?”

You froze a bit at that. You looked at him with a surprised, shocked and worried expression. “Al-” “I can feel it gettin’ near like flashlights comin’..” You wanted to tell him how much you meant you him, how even if he’s not the affectionate type or how much of a bad he is, you still loved him ever since the day you met but-

“One day, you’ll figure me out..” There was apart him that you really didn’t knew and he feared that. He feared that one day you’ll know more about him, more deeper about him and leave him. You knew his murderous way, yes but do you actually?

“I’ll meet judgement by the hounds,” A silent scratchy static could be heard as he said the last word. He was still smiling as he spoke.

“You always gave me love, you were never to blame after all, mon ange..” He looked at you with a bit of sad soft eyes as he cups your cheek and his thumb strokes your under eye.

The sudden sound of dogs start to appear outside in the rain. You two looked at each other as you had watery eyes trying not to get emotional or anything. There was silence between you two until-

“You believe me like a God-” A tear fell down your cheek. You suddenly hug him, not too tight, just enough to show him that you cared about him and you didn’t care how he really is.

He started to caress your hair. “I’ll betray you like a man.”

© LAINSSHOP 2024

[emmaofnormandy]

Imagine Aegon comes to comfort you.

Warnings: drama, angst because of reasons; fluffy though because we love writing fluffy Aegon. Long post.

***

What a strange bond you and the lord Aegon share. As the daughter of Ser Gwayne of House Hightower, you were raised as part of the Targaryen family since you could remember—but comparison, implicitly as it was, was always there.

You always aimed to please so what else could you do if not doing as told? You were raised to be like your royal aunt but your sweet nature prevented to emulate her flaws. Indeed your wit was as sharp as knife and your tongue could ricochet when provoked, but only your looks could tell what were you doing amidst an incestuous family.

Nevertheless, against all odds you did get well with them. How could it not be? You were raised with your cousins, but it was Aegon who climbed your walls and knocked them out.

Though he’s expected to marry his sister, it’s you whom he follows everywhere. There are whispers at court, but, as you told your aunt once, where there are tongues, words will be spoken.

Yet… now you are a young woman, in an age close to marry. You have no dragons to ride and all you can brag is about winning Aemond over poetry competition.

At times you are next to Helaena, but you feel outshone by your sweet cousin.

What is this, what is this that torments me so?

You have demons to fight underneath your mask of duty and you do not like when they crave their claws on your flesh. So today you withdraw, certain that no one is going to notice your absence.

When you do so, melancholy has you on its trap. You are swallowed by it, there staying whilst your footsteps automatically sway out of their view. You dissociate, rewinding the times you disappointed every one you know.

Perhaps what is worse is the day Princess Helaena and Prince Aegon’s betrothal is announced. You found yourself wishing to be in her shoes, the perfect Princess.

Disgusted by mundane sentiments you are suffocated when confronted by your imperfections. You need some air. Perhaps the gardens will offer some solution.

Barefoot, your Hightower curls are blown off your head the more you run into the labyrinth of green towers of leaves and pomades. Tears roll out, uninvited, as if the grip around them is now loose. Because at the center of this rarely visited labyrinth lies a cold stoned bench where you sit and burst into silent, painful tears.

*

Even a merry prince as himself needs some moment to himself. Regardless of how fearful he is of loneliness—which is usually mistaken as a moment of fragility—, Aegon feels in the air that not all is well as it should.

It takes no more than a few minutes to notice the lady Y/N Hightower’s escape of the court. He sighs. Thus the recollections begin as the silver haired Targaryen royal retraces your steps.

I remember well, my lady, when we bonded. It was odd that someone laughed at my sarcastic remarks; that a relative would appreciate my fierceness, or even compliment my efforts in reading messy words.

Whenever I was faulted for not being hard working like Aemond, or when envy consumed my poor soul for being overshadowed by Rhaenyra, you stood for me. You held my hand, dismissed my fragilities and reassured me I was as good as any of them. You encouraged me flying with Sunfyre when I was anguished before the Strong boys. You never failed to surprise me, a deed few—if any at all—accomplished.

But I was so selfish…. When you fell, where was I? When you wept, where was I? When your strength was shaken, I failed you. I blinded myself because I supposed you and Aemond were too bright to burn. I whored because the idea of you led me to believe I was unworthy—as my mother often remarked that she found our friendship rather unusual, uncommon, unmatched: you, the perfection; me, the broken man.

Indeed she has been correct in her judgement. But reason often tormented me because I am too weak to surpass myself. Where there are obstacles, I see an invitation to encourage my sins; where there are defiances, I convince myself I lack capacity to overcome them.

I am not brave. No, my precious lady. This errant prince is unworthy of your affection. Nonetheless… I will rescue you. You will see that I am capable of loving, even if this means to admit I cannot be loved.

The sight of you in complete distress makes him rush his steps. Part of him is relieved to see you haven’t done anything imprudent, but another prays anxiously for whatever deity that he is not the cause of your atonement.

“Goodness!”, you almost cry out when you see Aegon. You stand quickly, trying to recompose yourself. “A-Aegon! I mean, my lord cousin.”

You try desperately to omit your distress, to conceal your anxiety, but Aegon sees through you. The prince holds your wrists and pulls you against him.

“Don’t. Don’t do this, Y/N.”

Still holding a hand over your right wrist, he releases his free hand to gently brush away your eyes, after lifting your chin so he can read the pain in them.

“We’ve already surpassed this phase, haven’t we? It’s long gone since that day where… well, where we had mutual accusations of distrust”, says he, pleased to make you chuckle lightly.

“True. We are not children anymore”.

The distance is short. Shorter than what usually is. You can smell his scent, which only infuriates your racing heart.

“Then why are you running away?”

You sigh. Something about his long gaze at you, at the kindness behind his lilac irises, at the soft smile on his lips… is enough to disperse your insecurities.

“I am not running away.”

It’s a weak protest, a lie that Aegon knows what it really means. He once used it to shy away everyone who dares to approach him. For some reason, this old tactic never worked with you. It is only natural that it has no success with him as well.

“You are not well. What troubles you, my sweet? Always the dutiful daughter, always the merry one of us all, the prideful daughter of Old Town.” He strokes your cheek once more. “The stories we created, the past I was part of… cannot be just that.”

“We forged a very good bond, didn’t we?”

“Indeed.” Then a flash of hurt crosses his gaze for a moment. “Is it what it is, though? A good bond is what we have?”

And just like that you set yourself free of his touch. Where there was warmth, now there is cold.

“I cannot… Do not make me say what I may regret. Leave me to my pain, to be tormented by my delusions.”

“I may be many of the things I am accused of. However, to be careless is not one of them.” Aegon takes you by your arm, forcing you to turn at him. “Tell me I am only a memory, that we are nothing.”

“I was always yours, cousin. But you were never mine”, you burst out what’s been killing you. “I am not Helaena. Nor a Targaryen can I be considered! What am I? Who am I? Somewhere along the lines I became what is expected! But I lost myself in the process.”

“I will not sacrifice us for duty!” He holds you against him, your frame tied in between his arms. You find the same anguish in his eyes, the old desperation that equals yours, an entire ocean of profound sentiments that invite to an inevitable drowning.

Cupping your cheeks with his hands, he stares back at yours.

“It pains me that I am not able to take away your suffering. Miserable is the man who cannot uphold a sword to battle his damsel’s torments. For years I accepted that I failed before the world. But when it comes to you, Y/N, I am not afraid of the dark. I am not that fucking cunt. You never left me on my own. Unworthy as I am, hardly magnanimous as others might suggest to make me their jest, you remain.”

“I am a sinner, Aegon. Filth with…”

He covers your mouth, impeding words to come out of your disgraced soul any longer.

“For years we repressed it. Nay, Y/N. Do not make us miserable anymore. I shall make you mine at the cost of all.” And yet when battles seemingly obstinate at the cost of your breakdown, he holds you close. “Come here. Let us leave this world, uh? I know exactly what you deserve.”

You stay there for a moment, taking his words as what you need to hear. What you need to heal. Aegon is your balsam, and this is touching in many ways.

The rogue prince, rejected by all of those who, by blood, are moved by this familiar pretense of loving him, is someone else’s solace. You, often the strong one, so sensible and reasonable, rely on his feeble, meek prince whose divinity is nothing but a mask.

Thus you stay. And he loves you more than he can admit.

*

Sunfyre seems to smile at you when Aegon gleefully takes you to him.

“Come now. He won’t bite you!”, your rogue prince beams at you. He extends his hand at you. “Do you honestly think this is a privilege I give everyone I know?”

His golden scaled dragon seems to huff as if to say: “Indeed, my lady. Do you honestly think I would allow anyone to ride me besides Aegon?”

You giggle softly. Aegon sees you blushing, the idea of enjoying a privilege few would ever do makes you suddenly shy. Your face is adorably pink, a great sight to behold when adding to it your loose curly red hair.

“Well?”

“I do not mean to keep you waiting”, you take his hand, enjoying the warmth of your fingers locked. “Thank you for having me, Sunfyre.”

The winged creature looks at you pompously, a very adorable sight that makes you smile.

“How can one not smile before the most beautiful dragon there has ever been?”, says Aegon, resting his face against Sunfyre’s forehead. “Heavens know this is just… unmatched.”

“You have a very strong bond with this one”, you observe, smiling.

“He understands me like no other”, Aegon smiles as Sunfyre confirms him with its own way of showing tenderness. “We belong to each other.”

“Indeed. I am pleased he takes you as who you are. It is what it should have always been.”

“Come now. Let us fly!”

You take the hand offered even though you are not dressed for the occasion. As Sunfyre opens its wings and begins to fly, his hands around your waist ensure you that you are safe.

“You may be Targaryen in your own way, Y/Nickname”, Aegon whispers in your ear. “But I prefer you being Hightower. It has a better ring to it, hasn’t it? Lady Y/N Hightower.”

You giggle like a little girl. Oh, once upon a time you dreamed of this moment. It is unique, indescribable. He is so close to you, carefree and merry.

His arms around your waist as he leads the way when pulling the reins of Sunfyre, at the same time letting it be leaded by this beautiful golden winged creature.

Wind blows your hair, messing it all the way as you fly higher and maybe a choked sound comes out of your throat. Adrenaline runs in your veins and for a second you fear you are about to fall.

“Trust in me, my lady! You are safe with me!”, Aegon chuckles quietly.

You can only nod. Despite the fear, you trust your guts, and delegate all the power to him. Aegon’s face is close to yours so he can read your expressions, the subtle change in your countenance quite clear. And yet when you relax, when your shoulders are light again, he knows the value of your trust.

Taking the opportunity to surprise you, he is bold enough to press his lips against your cheek.

“Oh, Aegon!”, you blush, batting your eyelashes timidly.

“Are you enjoying this adventure?”, Aegon looks so content like he hasn’t been in years.

When your gazes meet, you forget that he is promised to another. You are led to believe he is delegating his heart to your possession. Against reason, you nurture hope.

“More than I deserve. Thank you for cheering me up.”

“Anything for my lady”, and even up in the skies he takes your hand and presses a kiss on it.

This time Sunfyre flies slowly, stable as it is up in the air. It is when Aegon takes his time to enjoy it with you.

“Aegon…”, you hesitate.

“Yes?”

He waits. When he does so, eyes are locked in a long gaze. He notices the color that paints your irises, the red that paints your curls, your long nose and heart-shaped face. Sweet features that mirror the kindness within. Your lips tremble and the prince is eager to hear those words.

Those three words that he too is eager to pronounce, tasting them for the first time in a lifetime of rage and frustration.

“I am scared to speak my mind.”

Aegon puts a hand over your chin, his callous hand moving higher to cup your cheek. To fight away the remaining shadows of your heart, right at the twilight, he knocks his pride down when choosing to be the one to say what must be said.

“Y/N Hightower, throughout these years my cold heart has been endeared to a new sentiment of a kind I never experimented before, often judged to never feel it because I was deemed unworthy of it. The root to my heart has been uneasy, I know, and yet you took it with the bravery of your gentleness.”

As the words come out so naturally, you blush deeper. You’d look away if he doesn’t make you stay and see the truth in his gaze.

“You, the very center of my heart, have grown more than a companion, a cousin, someone with whom I share blood. Nights grow cold without you, I sinned hopelessly because I thought…” Aegon sighs, impatient with himself. “All of this is to say that I love you.”

To his surprise, you cup his face with your hands and lock your lips with his. Right as the sun starts to go down, as the colors of twilight begin to paint the skies, every doubt is solved, every shadow dissipates.

It is a peaceful kiss, perfectly paired even if it starts sloppy. Sunfyre hums happily as if to put a soundtrack to this moment where Aegon Targaryen is genuinely happy for the first time in years.

“I love you, Aegon”, you rest your forehead against his. “Whatever it comes, never forget how endeared you are.”

He cannot argue when you say in such a sweet manner. You convince him that with patience and time, love flourishes.

And you stay like this for a while.

***

Aegon’s eyes are glued in you. Today you are dancing with Princess Helaena by her side at a feast that honours the king’s name day.

“Lady Y/N must be a witch”, muses Aemond out of the blue.

“What for?”, Aegon casts a frown at his younger brother. “Do not dessacralize her name like this, Aemond.”

“Oh. So you are far more smitten than I have assumed”, Aemond raises his eyebrows. “And here I was presuming you’d make her one of your mistresses…considering whom you are betrothed to.”

“Assume what you want. Lady Y/N is not a mistress, no.”

His brother cannot believe his ears. Is this an scandal in the making?

“You cannot be serious. Aegon…”

“What? All I can do is displease others as it seems. They are not content when I do as told. It is time to take my life with my own hands.”

“This will not end well.”

“We shall try and see.”

Aegon stands impatiently and moves to where you are. He knows all eyes are set on him: courtiers hold their breath when you come at his meeting. But what do they know when love is clear in the eyes of the Cupid’s victims?

Helaena, who knew from day one where this would go, smiles to you and excuses herself to Aemond’s side—which only served to leave Alicent astonished, but not entirely displeased since she likes you.

What indeed comes out as a shock is that Aegon has eyes to no other but you.

“We are making it obvious”, you murmur.

“Let it be so. I have no shame in showing my affection for you.”

“Aegon, but you are promised to another”, he sees the pain it comes when acknowledging this fact.

Hands are held and bodies dance when he says calmly:

“Betrothals are often brokered. It happens under uncertainties until marriages are certain.”

You cast him a long wide gaze.

“You cannot be serious..”

Aegon smiles at you in a way few have seen it. The dance comes to an end and he bows before you, lingering a kiss on your wrist without parting gazes.

“I am most serious in my intentions, lady Y/N.”

***

You are occupied with embroidery, lost in your thoughts by the time the queen comes to meet you.

“Y-Your Grace, my aunt”, you dip to a gracious curtsy, blushing as you do so, aware of the reason why she suddenly came to see you.

“No need formalities, child”, she gives you a small smile. “I came to talk to you. I believe you know why.”

As you mutter some answer, Queen Alicent is reminded of herself. You could have been her daughter had she been married off to a nobleman of a house like Tyrell. Not only that but some traits you possess makes her lament how she wasted her youth being a puppet to serve her father’s ambition.

Painful remembrances. And yet… you are tracing a better path than she ever did.

“I am not angry at you, dear child. I should have assumed any of this would result. To be honest, your grandsire was hoping to marry you to Aemond, seeing how similar you are.” Alicent smiles, clearly judging otherwise. “Well, Helaena was closer to Aemond than you in any case.”

“I have nothing to say against lord Aemond, my queen, but it is true that I am closer to lord Aegon.”

“I neglected to consider your sentiments in these matters much as mine were discarded by the time… Oh, never mind. It does little good to dwell in the past”, she now takes your hand. “Aegon surprised me for the first time. He is strongly decided to make you his wife.”

“Oh”, you cannot disguise your surprise. You have to put a hand on your heart as if to prevent you to pass out. “He actually means it!”

Queen Alicent chuckles at your reaction.

“I was shocked too myself, but the king and I are happy to see a change in his comportment. For which on behalf of the crown I thank you and officially welcome you to this disfunctional family, dearest Y/N.”

You laugh quietly. For the first time in a long time your demons are defeated and you taste a safe victory. This is not about comparisons anymore, nor to be gushed by insecurities. Aegon has helped you heal in many, many ways.

***

A few moons later…

“I thought I was not born for happiness”, you confide him right after you landed with Sunfyre.

Since the day Aegon and you were married, the king granted the newly weds a household so you could enjoy your privacy. Ever since this day, Springhall has been your home.

“Why would you say that, Y/Nickname?”, he holds your arm against him as you two walk side by side back inside. “Stealing from me the typical phrasing effect?”

You chuckle quietly.

“No, I mean every word I said. When circumstances forced me to acknowledge my feelings for you, Aegon, I never thought you’d correspond. I felt as if I loved a star too high to grasp.”

It is your way with words that move his heart. It is how these echo the sincerity with your devotion that bends a prideful man like him. Aegon stops the pace and turns you around.

“It pains me that you have gone through difficult months, withdrawn to a heavy pressure of expectations your mother and father laid on you. Even more that I disappointed you with my wayward manners”, he takes your fingers and kisses each for a long time.

Summer breeze blows his hair, and you seem to notice this day he is not dressing dark shade of green, but a light one instead, which matches yours.

“We tend to get lost in our way when we are not properly guided, I’m afraid. But I cannot excuse my past, when I was given the chance to write a better future. Your unending loyalty to me, Y/N… Gods. I could list to all of your virtues that charmed me… In fact, let me do it.”

He keeps his words. Your self esteem has never been higher. A man like him to praise yourself in this manner… Oh, how many skeptical persons would have mocked this possibility?

To be loved like a fair damsel in these stories you read is a reality you’ve thought impossible. You knew your dreams were prompted to be sacrificed by the duties to serve your family, but alas! The impossible is now possible!

“What a joy you give me to be your wife”, you say more tearful than you know.

“You are my heart’s queen, my heart’s gleam, light of my life, my sun and stars. I am devoted to you until the last breath of this body.”

You take his hands and plants a kiss on each, holding his fingers firmly as you look at him with a spark in your gaze.

“My best beloved, I could not find happiness elsewhere but with you. My soul rejoices when yours is close to mine, when day and night I can love you right. Oh, you light my life and lead the way to Seven Paradises!”

“My poetess!”

And saying so, he kisses you under sunlight.

***

• Epilogue.

Prince Aegon’s marriage has not only proven to be a great surprise to many and a true delight to all, but in many ways it was scandalous too.

Specially because he formally abdicated of his rights to the crown to spend his lifetime with you. By giving these to his younger brother, Aemond, well… Ser Otto Hightower might have to adjust his plans. And your sweet demeanor makes it difficult to be blamed for such a decision. Besides, you found in your father a good supporter at court so all is well that ends well.

Before the great series of events that are coming, you give Aegon a number of children to occupy yourselves to. These are:

1. Aegon, named after his father.

2. Rhaena, his twin.

3. Alysanne.

4. Daena.

5. Daeron.

6. Jaehaerys.

7. Maekar.

8. Daenys.

And two miscarriages. What is intriguing is that by the time King Viserys’ death, you and Aegon are found living your lives quietly in Essos.

So when war comes, Aemond starts to question himself.

Where is Aegon? Can he be counted on for this war? Or should he better be left in his domestic affairs?

But these speculations run out of this scope. Besides, it’s not as if Aegon and Y/N Targaryen would pose any danger to Aemond and Helaena’s inheritance… Right?

Whatever it is, some things are better left unsaid. And you and Aegon content yourselves with this very peaceful scenario…

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

If it’s alright, I have a question about Vil and Epel’s relationship. I understand that the accent changing plot line is just a cultural politeness thing that didn’t carry over outside of Japan, but the other parts of changing Epel’s behavior don’t quite make sense.

Why exactly is Epel being forced to call macarons his favorite food? And act very soft-spoken? I can’t see how these fit in with the politeness aspect of the table manners, no abrasive language, etc. It just doesn’t give a very good impression, especially in combination with the unfortunate implication of giving Epel a Southern accent for the “change your accent” plot point.

Before I get to responding to the questions posed by this ask, allow me to explain for those who may not be familiar with this controversy! This is so we can all go into reading this post from the same starting point.

I've made titles to denote the explanation of background knowledge and to denote responding to the questions actually asked to me! If you're already familiar with the Vil-Epel-accent debacle then feel free to skip the first section!

Disclaimer: I’m speaking on these concepts as I personally understand them. However, I am not a native Japanese speaker so I’d advise that you consult additional resources with a better understanding of the language and culture. Two resources I enjoy are Yuurei and MysteryShopTLs, who have both also addressed Epel’s accent and how it was localized.

The Accent, EN vs JP

It’s well-known that Epel is a character with a heavy accent who has been explicitly told by Vil, his dorm leader, to alter the way he speaks. In EN, Epel speaks with what appears to be a southern (as in, “from the southern United States”) accent. Therefore, when Vil tells him to stop speaking in the accent, it feels as though Vil is shaming him for his southern roots and culture. This has also led to fans (especially of the EN-only sphere) thinking that Vil believes Epel’s accent is “unrefined” and “makes him sound uncouth/uneducated”, which is why Vil tells Epel to cover it up. I have even received asks conveying as much in the past (here is one example).

In the original JP, Epel speaks in a way that does not closely resemble any real-world Japanese dialect but rather a blend of them. If you ask a native Japanese speaker, they would likely tell you that it is difficult to understand what Epel is saying and that it sounds as though he is speaking rudely or too casually. People could genuinely take offense to the accent because it can be mistaken as something else entirely. This is obviously very different than the real-world accent (which many people can still understand and wouldn’t perceive as rude) that Epel was localized to have. The decision to give him a southern accent, then, does not completely carry over its original JP connotations into EN.

What remains the same in both EN and JP is the reason Vil provides for telling Epel to adjust the way he communicates. As he says in EN, “Speak properly" to which Epel immediately assumes the command comes from a place of elitism/classism and Vil thinking Epel's manner of speaking is beneath him. Vil responds with, "Stop misinterpreting my instructions. I have nothing against your home or its dialect. What I object to is your attitude. Being proud of your home is all well and good, but there is a time and a place for that. The way you address your superiors is entirely unacceptable." (Keep in mind that before this, Epel was the one instigating a fight with Vil and subsequently got his ass whooped for disrespecting an upperclassman. As the victor, he declares that Epel must do as he says--that's the "culture" of NRC. The weak obey the strong, so if Epel wants to do whatever he wants, then Vil challenges him to beat Epel in a fight. Until then, the loser must obey the winner. Epel agrees to these conditions.) This may be a little hard for western English speakers to wrap their heads around, but MANY Asian countries, Japan included, run on a hierarchical system which is embedded even into their languages. Japanese, for example, has honorifics to denote the relationship between the speaker and the listener, as well as variations on the same word depending on the context ("boku", "ore", "watashi", "atashi", etc. are all valid ways to refer to oneself, "onii-san", "onii-sama", "aniki", "kyodai", etc. are all ways to refer to a brother, whether blood-related or not). In some cases, it's considered rude to call others by their first name unless you know them well, and even then it's not common to see a first name without an honorific. This is not as strictly adhered to in English, which is perhaps where a cultural disconnect occurs. What Vil is referring to in his instructions to Epel is what is known in the world of linguistics as "code switching", or changing how one communicates to suit the situation. Part of code switching is changing one's "register", or the level of formality you use. So for example, I could use a colloquial/casual register when I speak with my friends, but I may shift to a more polite and formal register when I speak with my professors, a boss, or an older relative. Vil, then, is critiquing Epel for not speaking politely to his seniors (something which is expected in Japanese culture, but not expected among those in similar grade levels in western cultures).

In the Harveston Sledathon event, we get to venture to Epel's hometown and hear how the locals speak. Indeed, we get more instances of people who speak in the same way Epel does. It's the Harveston dialect, which is so distinctive that it basically sounds like a whole different language. (There are also languages like this in real life; consider Mandarin and Cantonese; technically they are both "Chinese" but Mandarin and Cantonese speakers would not be able to comprehend one another even if they use the same written language). However, it's notable that Marja (Epel's grandmother) and the mayor of Harveston are able to code switch flawlessly into a more standardized tongue. They explain that this is a skill they have developed because it helps in communicating with tourists/visitors to the village and for whenever they travel to the nearby city to sell their wares. This reinforces Vil's point that there is a "time and place" for certain ways of speaking, which Epel needs to consider.

Macarons and Soft-Spokeness

Accent thing aside, some English-speaking fans take issue with Vil's stern treatment of Epel, particularly in instances in which Vil seems to be exerting significant control over his underclassman's behaviors. (Japanese-speaking fans largely do not hold the same sentiment.) Examples of this include Vil forcing Epel to state that his favorite food is macarons, as well as making Epel present as soft-spoken even when he's just among his peers. I will now be addressing both of these points. TO BE CLEAR, I am NOT trying to defend Vil but rather I'm just going to speculate about why the circumstances are the way that they are and/or why perceptions of his attitude may differ.

Starting with macarons! It is stated in Epel's official profile and by Epel himself in his Birthday Boy vignettes that his favorite food is yakiniku (Japanese grilled meat). However, macarons are also listed as his favorite food, and this is notable because he's the only character with two foods listed instead of just one. In the aforementioned Birthday Boy vignettes, Epel is quick to qualify his love of meats with, "Well, I do have one thing I like even more. It's, ah, macarons." When asked what he likes about them, he says, "They're... cute. And sweet! And they come in lots of different flavors." His voice here sounds hesitant, so it's not clear whether he's being entirely honest or not. He even admits in a whisper that, "[Macarons] are not very filling, but still." Epel again complains about macarons being good but not very filling when he has some in the City of Flowers/Fleur City. To this, Azul asks, "Why do you look so unimpressed, Epel? I thought macarons were your favorite food. [...] But was my intel mistaken? Would you prefer something with a stronger flavor profile?" Epel insists he is fine, and Azul responds with, "Excellent, then my intel bears out." This creates some confusion over whether Epel actually likes macarons or not. I doubt that the information Azul has on others is inaccurate. Plus, Epel states of his own free will to the player (who is interviewing him) that he also likes macarons. This leads me to believe that while Epel doesn't outright hate macarons, he does like them alright (but still prefers grilled meat more). The only thing he seems to have an issue with is how unsubstantial macarons are as a food item.

Now... why does Vil make him state that macarons are his favorite food instead of grilled meat? It's sort of touched on in Epel's Ceremonial Robes vignettes. In them, Vil chides Epel for his poor table manners and asks him to state his favorite food. Epel responds with grilled meat/barbeque, which earns him a smack from his dorm leader. (Vil actually smacks Epel multiple times in these vignettes as punishment, which ended up being another source of ire in the English-speaking part of the fandom; such a thing is more common in Asia and its media, so it's not seen as too outrageous in Japan.) "Do my ears deceive me?" Vil says. "I could've sworn I heard a word unfit to be spoken in this noble dorm. I will ask you again. As a student of Pomefiore–a dorm founded upon the tenacity of the Fairest Queen–what is your favorite food?" From this dialogue, it can be surmised that Vil's reasoning for drilling the macarons in as Epel's favorite food is because it is something that is more befitting of the regal "image" of the Fairest Queen and the dorm made in her honor. Vil seems to regard grilled meat as an inelegant food which does not suit the Fairest Queen nor Pomefiore.

The second thing the asker brought up is Epel's soft-spokeness. I guess I'm a little confused by this??? Soft-spokeness is a part of being polite; it ties back to volume control (ie "indoor voice" being softer than "outdoor voice"). I also don't recall a specific instance of Vil chastising Epel for NOT being soft-spoken at all times. He allows Epel to be loud sometimes and raises his voice himself. I feel like volume is not something that Vil harps on as much as other things like cursing or speaking politely to the correct authority figures (unless, of course, volume is important to the level of politeness required for the current conversation). I could be wrong on this though, so please let me know if you know of any specific instances of Vil being mad about Epel speaking loudly that I may have missed! What I do find odd is how... consistently (?) Epel tries to keep polite even when Vil is not around to monitor him. When Vil and Epel first met, Vil makes it clear that there is a "time and place" for Epel's accent, and it's not when addressing seniors. So... by the logic, shouldn't Vil be okay with Epel acting more relaxed or rowdy around first years or more casual settings in general? Why does Epel need to maintain the facade of being polite even when not in the presence of his superiors? Why does Epel seem to even act fearful about word of his misbehavior/rudeness getting back to his dorm leader and even make others swear they won't divulge the incidents to Vil?

One theory I'll propose is the entirety of book 5. Vil was insistent then on having Epel in the NRC Tribe. He wanted to weaponize Epel's cuteness, which he believed could compete with his long-time rival, Neige. This probably fed into Vil's demands for Epel to appear and act dainty and innocent, traits which Neige effortlessly possesses. Vil literally even refers to Epel as his "Poison Apple" that will help him defeat Neige. After book 5, Vil seems to have eased up on his rigidity. However, I will caution that this explanation may or may not align well with vignettes and/or event stories, which do not always work in a cohesive timeline with the main story.

Perhaps a more all-encompassing explanation is... this is probably because Vil is just very strict about how his dorm members present themselves at all times, since they are expansions of Pomefiore and of himself as the leader. Both the macarons and Epel's attitude are reflections of the dorm he (a celebrity who is very aware of the public eyes on him + his reputation) is affiliated with, and Vil won't have them poorly represented. He is the dorm leader, so he has the "right" to rule and impose his ideals as he sees fit. It's a similar situation to Riddle forcing the Heartslabyul students to follow silly, nonsensical rules (because they're tradition) or risk a scolding or a beheading. And again, Epel is following along because (as established in book 5), he has agreed to submit to Vil’s orders until he beats Vil in combat.

At the end of the day, I don't think Epel being forced to call macarons his favorite food is a huge deal. Is anything that big lost in claiming you like something that isn't your actual favorite food? It's not like Vil is forcing Epel to claim he likes eating something that would actually harm him (like, if Epel had an almond allergy or something).

What's more dubious is how VIl governs Epel's attitude and temperament at seemingly all times (to the point of eliciting some apprehension from Epel). Given the most generous reading, maybe it's Vil's way of teaching Epel maturity and how to keep his voice down since Epel had zero of it and acted loudly brazen when he first enrolled. It doesn't help Epel if he's quiet and well-mannered in very limited social situations; it has to be "generalized" or expand to other scenarios for Vil's lessons to truly be instilled in him. (Like... what would happen if Vil DIDN'T hold Epel in check? His classmates would not be able to understand Epel's speech, and he might get into trouble by picking fights with others.) This is a life skill that Epel lacks, unlike his grandma and the Harveston mayor, and Vil's teaching it to him via "tough love" (though whether you approve of his methods or not is up to interpretation). Recall that Vil also teaches Epel to embrace femininity as its own strength and to disregard outdated gender norms--this could be considered another "lesson". I doubt that anything Vil imposes is done maliciously, but rather comes from a place of wanting others to be better and to shine their brightest, even if that path is difficult or painful. Epel, as the rebel in this circumstance, of course does not enjoy being told what to do and misbehaves in small ways. There’s a limit on how much he can misbehave though, as it would hurt his pride to be reminded of his failure to one-up Vil. He's like a kid that doesn't want to be caught cussing or acting out by his parent. It can be seen as immaturity and an unwillingness to change or to grow up, but it can also be seen as someone who wants to freely be able to express themselves or to be their "truest" self. Epel is rowdy and headstrong, and it's difficult for him to repress these parts of himself. Given the least generous reading, Vil is oppressing and stifling Epel in many ways that extend beyond what his dorm leader position should reasonably allow him to do. In fact, a popular fan translation for book 5 is "The Beautiful Oppressor", as Vil is frequently shown limiting the liberties of his NRC Tribe members during their training arc, not just Epel's.

Which is the truth here? Why do those in the English side of the fandom decry Vil's actions and side with Epel whereas the Japanese side see little issue with this?

I wager that this predominantly comes down to, again, cultural differences. Many English-speaking fans are based in the west (particularly the USA and Canada, where the EN servers first launched), places which emphasize individuality and self-expression. Of course they would be more likely to take Epel's side, as he's the one trying to be himself and stand out in his own way. Meanwhile collectivism--an ideology which stresses conformity with a group--dominates in the east. They are more likely to see no problems with Vil's actions because, to them, he is acting in the ways he is to "guide" Epel and show him how to best "fit in" with Pomefiore and at NRC. I believe the whole "being soft-spoken" thing also ties back to cultural differences; speaking loudly is something else that can be considered rude in Japan, so it's entirely possible that Vil encouraging Epel to be soft-spoken is another element of politeness that did not translate well to English (as the western world tends to be much louder and more animated in their conversations).

What it boils down to is that the way Vil and Epel's relationship was written did not work well for a western audience, whose values and perspective is VERY different from the original audience TWST had. It appeals far more to a Japanese fanbase than a western one, and has resulted in many misunderstandings or anger about Vil's character because of this.

I'm not sure if I managed to adequately explain everything, but I hope that this at least helps you to see from a different perspective!!

[dark-frosted-heart]

Secret Acting Instruction - Keith Howell

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

nsfw, minors dni

Emma: Prince Keith, you did well on your performance today. Cheer!

Alter!Keith: Cheers.

The light clinking of glasses resounds and Emma, who sat beside me on the sofa, takes a sip of the clear alcohol.

By the way her eyes widened, she thought it was good.

(I didn’t expect Emma to throw an after party)

I followed Emma’s lead and took a sip from my glass; the subtle sweetness spread throughout my weary body.

Emma: By the way, you were really cool.

Alter!Keith: Yeah, yeah, thank you. Think I heard that 100 times before getting back to my room.

Emma: Saying it 100 times isn’t even enough. Unlike last year’s performance, this one was about friendship and I thought you were a really great fit for your role. I’d read the original work multiple times, so I could imagine you in that role… But you were so much better than I could’ve imagined…*sigh* I should’ve asked for an artist to paint you.

Emma’s eyes lit up like the sun as she continued.

(Not a bad reaction. If I didn’t get into it, then there wouldn’t’ have been a point in going through all that trouble)

After Emma and “that guy’s” first performance thanks to their favorite author, the director unexpectedly took a liking to them and a second offer came.

Initially, I thought about rejecting it for “that guy” since he’s a pushover, but ended up changing my mind and so here I am now.

Alter!Keith: You looked pretty good too.

Emma: This time I was just a fill-in for a side character though?

Alter!Keith: Don’t be so modest, Miss side character who loves me so much. You almost changed the genre with that look of love on your face.

Emma: Uh…

It looked like she was aware of the fact, given how she looked away, ears red.

(It was a pretty realistic performance—)

~~ Flashback ~~

This time the performance was the classic story about rewarding the good and punishing evil where my character and his partner infiltrated an evil organization, exposed its injustice, and rescued the weak.

Emma played a low-level grunt of the organization, an upstanding “young man” who was the first to become an ally during the infiltration.

There was a scene depicting the beginnings of conflict within the organization.  

Emma: ‘Please wait! Your clothes are a mess.’

Alter!Keith: ‘Oh, it was quite the fight back there.’

Emma: ‘Are you hurt?’

Alter!Keith: ‘Getting hurt by those kinds of people would be such an embarrassment that I wouldn’t be able to sleep.’ ‘That aside, are you sure you want to follow me?’ ‘It seems I was mistaken for a traitor.’ ‘A weakling like you will die if you stick with me.’

Emma: ‘...I know. But I still want to.’ ‘Even if the path I’ll walk with you is harsh and full of thorns.’ ‘Even if corpses pile up behind you.’ ‘I will follow you for the rest of my life.’

Alter!Keith: …Stay in character.*

Emma: !!!

~~ End flashback ~~

Emma: Please let me explain. …I was captivated by your flashy action scene that came before.

Alter!Keith: So?

Emma: I forgot I was acting and fell in love.

Alter!Keith: Quite the adorable excuse.

Emma: A-at any rate, I didn’t expect you to take on another acting job! You could’ve refused. Did you perhaps fall in love with the stage…?

I shrugged as Emma blatantly switched topics.

Alter!Keith: As someone who loves me, do you think so?

Emma: …No.

Alter!Keith: Good answer.

Emma: Then why…

Alter!Keith: It’s thanks to you knowing the original story and helping me rehearse that I was able to put on my best performance. It was refreshing being instructed for once. Yeah, I probably liked that.

Emma: …You’re hiding something.

Alter!Keith: And you’re not?

(I’m not nice enough to tell you everything)

Unconvinced, Emma kept her eyes on me.

“I want to know” was written all over her face, and I knew she wasn’t going to give up until I told her.

(If that’s the case—)

Alter!Keith: Hey, let’s do it again.

Emma: Do wha—...Mnn.

I set the glass down on the table and kissed Emma.

I took her glass, placed it next to mine, and pushed her down onto the sofa.

Alter!Keith: Acting instructions. Want me to be wicked? Or do you want me to be nice? I’ll act however you want.

Emma: It seems like there’s a different goal in mind…!

Alter!Keith: Don’t worry about it. Come on, tell me.

I squeezed her breasts through her blouse like I usually do.

When I purposely pressed against a sensitive spot, Emma, whose eyes were shining with innocence just a moment ago, now exuded a sensual aura sweeter than nectar.

(You’re just as much of a pushover)

I continued playing with her chest while ignoring how she was rubbing her legs together.

Emma: …off.

Alter!Keith: Hm? Didn’t catch that.

Emma: …Clothes…off.

Alter!Keith: Is that your first instruction?

She nodded, face even more flushed than it was on stage.

Following her “instruction”, I stripped her, revealing perky nipples.

Alter!Keith: Next?

Emma: …Do I have to say it?

Alter!Keith: Of course. You’re giving me acting instructions, aren’t you?

Emma’s face grew redder as I kept staring at her nipples.

(This is why I can’t stop acting wicked)

Emma: Do what you usually do…

Alter!Keith: Be more specific.

Emma: …Please rub them with your hands.

Alter!Keith: Like this?

I asked as I gently traced around her nipples.

Alter!Keith: I’m rubbing them like you asked.

Emma: Here…

She took my hands and brought them to her peaks.

I smirked when I noticed her shaky fingers.

(You’re so easy to read)

Emma: …

When I gently rubbed where she wanted me to with my fingers, Emma’s brows furrowed in frustration.

She still wasn’t satisfied.

Alter!Keith: You were better at instructing than this. Be serious.

Emma: Then…I’ll tell you the most important thing.

Emma sighed wistfully and then grabbed my cheeks before kissing softly.

Emma: I…don’t like you playing a role. I like you as you are.

Alter!Keith: Meaning?

Emma: During times like this, just like you…I want to be loved with genuine feelings, not with acting.

(...I see.)

It was like there was a tight grip on my heart as she looked at me pleadingly.

(Definitely “serious”)

Alter!Keith: Isn’t it also because you’re too embarrassed to say more?

Emma: …There’s that too.

Alter!Keith: It’s good to be honest.

(I’ll stop being mean)

Emma: Huh…Ah…Nnn

I captured a nipple in my mouth and rolled it around with my tongue like she wanted me to.

At the same time, a hand traveled up her leg to her wet core.

Emma: So…sudden—

Alter!Keith: You told me to do what I wanted. No taking it back now.

Her hips jerked as I rubbed along her slit.

My fingers grew wetter with her slick and as Emma fell into pleasure, she seemed to forget I was avoiding something.

Emma: Aaahhh…

While I slowly fingered her, I thought back to the book the performance was based on.

When we got the second offer, both the other guy and I realized that it was based on a book Emma loved.

(The original work was Emma’s favorite, and she’d often recommend the other guy as the cool lead)

(If it became a play…)

(You might’ve called whoever played the lead “cool”)

(Would you have?)

I pulled my fingers out, released her nipple, and pressed down against her.

(You can only call us “cool”)

I thrusted into her and when I brushed her hair away from her face, regardless if she’s on stage or on this sofa, love was written all over her face.

*Here, Emma used the wrong personal pronoun for her line. She said ‘watashi wa’ (her pronoun) and then Alter!Keith reminds her that it’s ‘boku wa’ (character’s pronoun).

[geekforhorror]

thoughts on riding tired ani?

DUDE I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ON THIS I CANT.

also i’ll do you one better and write a FIC all about it because i love this request sm

—————

next to you

pairing: rots!anakin x senator fem!reader

warnings: SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), sub!anakin, dom!reader, riding, p in v sex, penetration, pet names, teasing, reader being sexy as hell, fluff at the end, etc.

word count: 2.3k

—————

To say it had been a long day for Anakin would have been the understatement of the century. He had been watching over the younglings in the Jedi Temple all day and most of the night while the jedi masters were away on a business venture. Even Yoda being there would’ve made it better. He loved the younglings, but they were too riled up today. The extensive training the younglings required exhausted him just as much as them. Despite this, there was one thought that kept him going throughout the long work day. Coming home to you. Even though it technically wasn’t his home due to the suspicion it would raise to the other Jedis, you made it feel like his home. So you could imagine the relief he felt when the masters returned, which let him finally jump into his speeder and focus on getting home.

————

You were cooking dinner for the two of you to enjoy when you suddenly heard an engine running just outside of your guys’ apartment. You got excited at the thought of him returning home and wrapping your arms around Anakin. You took the dinner out of the sauce pan and placed it on two plates— one for you and one for him. You had made spaghetti and meatballs, which was his favorite, especially after a long day.

Suddenly, you hear the elevator open and there he was. He looked so tired to the point where he could’ve been mistaken for a zombie or even a force ghost. He had bags under his eyes and his hair was disheveled as well, yet he still looked good.

“Hey baby,” you said with a smile as he walked into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he said to you with a tired tone in his voice.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him out of concern.

“Nothing, just a long day at the temple,” he says flatly.

“I’m sorry, Ani,” you say sympathetically.

“Don’t be, my love. It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. It would’ve been nice if the other masters were there,” Anakin says.

“You’re a stronger person than I am, darling,” you say with a chuckle. He lets out a weak chuckle at your comment and sits at the table, drained of any energy he may have had.

You decide to break the silence between the two of you and try to make small talk since that was all he was in the mood for right now. “I made us some dinner. It’s your favorite!” you exclaim in a chipper voice.

“Love, you shouldn’t have,” he says with a calm voice.

“I wanted to,” you say with a smile before kissing him on the lips. You noticed the expression in Anakin’s face and it was a rather sad one. “What’s wrong Ani?”

“It’s just that you worked so hard on dinner, but I’m too tired and stressed to enjoy or even eat it,” he says with defeat in his voice.

“I thought you were just tired,” you question.

“I just didn’t want you to worry about me,” he admits.

“Anakin, I’ll always worry about you whether I want to or not,” you say.

“I appreciate it, darling,” he says tiredly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you offer.

Anakin lets a sigh escape his lips before responding. “It’s just a lot of pressure, y’know? I mean I have to go on missions, fight, and look after the younglings. It’s just a lot for me and I feel like I’m not fulfilling my role as a Jedi,” Anakin confesses.

“You expect too much of yourself, Ani. You’re an amazing Jedi and I’m so proud of you,” you say out of pure love.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” Anakin says to you.

“I love you too. More than you know,” you say with a big smile on your face.

He didn’t know if it was just the atmosphere in the room or because of the long day he had, but he hungrily kisses you out of nowhere with desire, leaving you surprised.

“Fuck I missed you so much,” he says in a soft but tired voice.

“I missed you too,” you let out.

He stands up and pulls your legs around his hips, causing you to let out a giddy laugh. “I think I can help you with some of that stress,” you whisper into his ear.

“Oh yeah?” he challenges.

“Yeah,” you replied with a hint of lust on your face.

He takes your hint and the two of you make your way towards the bedroom. He lays you down on the mattress before he climbs on top of you. You decide to take charge and you manage to get on top of him.

“Let me take care of you Ani,” you say seductively before kissing away at his neck. He lets out the tiniest whimper and you find yourself amused. He was so needy for you and only you. “Do you want this, sweetie?” you ask in an attempt to make sure he wasn’t vulnerable enough before you did anything.

“Fuck yeah,” he lets out, which causes you to smile.

“I’m gonna treat you so well,” you say. You continue to kiss his neck before undoing his robe, letting it slide off his beautiful figure. You let it hit the floor and reach for the hem of his tunics in an attempt to tease him. You slide one of your hands underneath his garments and caress his toned stomach, causing him to let out an inaudible gasp.

“You like this, don’t you?” you ask even though you already know the answer.

“Y-Yes,” he whimpers.

“What do you want, Ani?” you coo, now sucking away at his neck once more.

“I-I want you to ride me,” he lets out, being more embarrassed than ever.

“That’s a good boy,” you whisper.

He says nothing more as you pull his tunics off him and discard them on the floor. “What’s this?” you say with a raised eyebrow as you palm his hard on through his trousers. “Fuck…” he lets out as a breathy sigh.

“Want me to take these off?” you say with a smirk.

“Maker, yes,” he replies, more desperate than ever.

You let out a chuckle at Anakin’s response and you proceed to undo his utility belt and the zipper on his pants. You glide your hands down his legs to slide his pants off him and you successfully do so.

“I can’t wait to put your beautiful cock inside me until it splits me open and raw,” you say, knowing it would turn him on and make him even needier for your cunt. Here he is now, only in his tight boxers. It was truly suffocating for him. You finally give him some mercy now by stripping him of his boxers and he couldn’t be more relieved. “This isn’t fair… You’re still wearing all of your clothes,” he complains.

“Demanding, are we?” you ask rhetorically. He nods his head once more and you can feel your pride grow.

“All you had to do was ask, Ani,” you say before slipping your long, flowy dress off your body, leaving you only in your bra and matching panties, rendering Anakin speechless. “You wanna be a good boy and help me out here?” you ask.

“Y-Yes,” he answers. He reaches for the clasp on your bra and unhooks it, letting the straps fall down your shoulders. Anakin tries to take your panties off, but he’s stopped by your hand. “Not so fast…don’t you want to feel how wet you make me?” you ask breathily.

“Maker, yes,” he lets out. You grab his wrist before making his hand trail downwards until he hits the damp part of your panties. “All for me?” he asks pathetically. “Mhm…just for you,” you respond. You slip your panties off your wet pussy and teasingly throw them across the room. “I need you inside me already…please,” he begs of you. “Patience, Ani,” you let out.

You reposition the two of you so that you can sit on top of him accordingly. You wanted this just as much as he did, so who were you to deny him of such pleasure? You waste no more time before sinking yourself on his erection, now feeling him inside you, which caused you to let out an unexpected moan. He lays his hands on both sides of your hip bones to give you support. You instinctively start to buck your hips while you were gliding down on his cock. Anakin starts to provide some more friction between the two of you and you can’t hold back anymore.

You start to roughly thrust while he’s inside you and you feel a pool of ecstasy wash over you and your cunt. The newfound sensation had him throwing his head back as you continued your thrusts. “H-Harder,” he whimpers. You smile at this and you comply with his request. To help you out, Anakin pushes harder into you repeatedly until he’s balls deep inside your cervix, causing you to become even more cock drunk. More moans had escaped from his lips, but he didn’t seem to care because he just needed you to ride him like there was no tomorrow and that’s exactly what you were doing.

“You’re such a good boy for me Ani…feels so good,” you say. You felt his tip twitch inside your clenched walls, hitting your sensitive g-spot. You knew that the both of you would be nearing your climax sooner rather than later considering that both of you had slowed down each others pace. “Such a big dick, Ani…fills me up every damn time,” you praise.

“I’m gonna cum,” he pants raggedly as you continue to animalistically bounce on him while grabbing his hips in order to hit the right angle in your needy walls. Gasps and moans fill the room at the sudden change of motion, but it didn’t matter. You can feel your climax approaching, but you had the strong urge to hold it until after Ani came. His hips start to stutter uncontrollably and his pace was slower than before. Anakin was screwed.

“I can’t hold it in much longer, baby,” he cries out like a bitch in heat.

“Then cum inside me… It always feels so good when you do,” you admit. With that, you bounce on him a few more times just in case he needs the extra sensation. You know it works because within seconds of you doing so, you feel his warm seed spill into you and you loved it. After feeling him fill you up with his cum, you finally let yourself orgasm after holding it in. Your arousal splashes both Ani’s dick and your inner thighs, causing a big mess on your guys’ bodies. Realizing he’s still inside you, he pulls out of you at once.

"That was fucking amazing,” he pants out.

“I can’t disagree with that,” you chuckle. “We should probably clean up here,” you suggest.

“Yeah we probably should,” he says with a laugh.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, getting off of him to head to the bathroom for some towels. You open the bathroom closet and grab the nearest hand towels you can find. Once you have them, you walk over to the sink to dampen them with warm water. After feeling that they are wet enough, you head back to his bedroom and sit on the bed with Anakin.

“I can clean you up if you want,” you offer, now dangling the wet rag in his face.

“That’s an offer I could never turn down,” he says tiredly with an idiotic laugh.

“God you’re such a dork, Ani,” you say jokingly as you clean him off with the towel.

“A dork who made you moan,” he corrects with a snicker.

“Ani!” you gasp as you jokingly slap his arm.

“Ouch,” he said with a grin.

“I’ll tell you what… You can clean me up if you don’t make any more stupid dad jokes,” you say jokingly.

“Deal, but I know it’ll break your heart to not hear any,” he says mockingly.

You scoff sarcastically and you hand him a new rag to clean you up with. He rubs the rag against you for a bit, collecting the mess you made. After doing so, he walks up to the hamper and places the soiled towels in. On his way back to the bed, he picks up your guys’ underwear before handing it to you. You slip the garment on your body as does he. Once you finish putting your panties on, you head over to your closet to pick something to wear to bed. You grabbed a blue, flowy nightgown that would compliment your figure. You slip the nightgown on and you feel much more comfortable in it than you did in your other dress.

“Do you want your pajamas or not?” you ask Anakin.

“Yeah, could you get me the black pajama pants from the drawer?” he replies.

“Sure thing,” you say before retrieving them from the appropriate drawer. You walk over to him and hand the garment over. He quickly changes into his pants shortly after.

“Thanks, my love,” he says admiringly before he kisses you on the lips,

“Still too tired for that dinner?” you ask. It takes him a second to answer you because of his current disheveled state, but eventually answered within a few passing seconds.

“Now that I think about it, I could eat,” he says with a grin. The two of you casually walk out of your room before entering the kitchen and sitting at the nicely set table.

“Maybe I should stay at the temple longer everyday if it means I get this reward every time I come home from a long day,” he says with a raised eyebrow.

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll get lucky…” you reply with a smirk. With that being said, the two of you start eating dinner and have an enlightening conversation.

You guys could get used to this.

[ford-pines-lover]

I love you, I'm sorry (Ford Pines x Fem!Reader)

I wrote the majority of this on my phone so if you see any words that arent capitalized that should be.. shhhh no you didnt. also, should i write a part two with the next verse and chorus? i had ideas but i wanted it out tonight lol. the song is “i love you im sorry” by gracie abrams.

also @chillinglyadventurous heres mine!

i love you i’m sorry 

Two Augusts ago, I told the truth, oh, but you didn’t like it; you went home.

Ford was always talking to himself. You never knew why. His mind was distant; he wasn’t always there. until one day he seemed fidgety. like there was something on his mind that he needed to get out. 

“Stardust? Can I talk to you?” 

“Of course,” Your heart starts racing. Is this it? Is it over? 

“So, there’s been something I’ve wanted to show you. or tell you rather.” Ford grabs your hand gently. He leads you down to his lab. Typically, you only go to his lab to ask him to come to bed with you. or to remind him to eat. That’s when you catch him acting up. or talking to himself. 

“Okay,” 

He led you to a part of his lab you had never seen before. There were tapestries of a triangle. There were candles in a circle. Rugs, portraits, anything you can think of was in this room. 

“Ford, love, what is this?” 

Ford inhales slowly, calming his nerves. “You’re going to think I’m crazy for this. but I promise I'm not insane.” You slowly nod. "I have a muse.”

“A.. what?” 

“An all-powerful god who calls himself my 'muse’. I am building a portal to access his dimension so I can understand this place. so I can have answers.” He looks away, almost ashamedly. 

“Love, that... doesn’t sound real.”

"I promise it is! He and I made a deal; when I fall asleep, he inhabits my body so I can still get work done! Next time I'm asleep, I can show you.”

“Ford. no. that's… no. that’s crazy. I love you, but that’s not real. None of that is.” You take a sharp inhale. “I think I need to go home. Like back to my parents house for a while.” 

“Stardust. why?  What's... what’s so bad about this?” 

“It's insane! You clearly aren’t right in the head! You think this triangle is going to tell you the ‘secrets of the universe.’ Well, you’re mistaken. I'm just going to go.” You walk upstairs, holding back tears. What was wrong with him? 

You’re in your benz

You grab some of your things, your keys, and start driving. The radio was playing sad music, so you turned it off. leaving you to your thoughts. Were you being too brash? Too harsh?  No. Clearly not. There was something unsafe he was putting himself through, and you weren’t going to be in the middle of it. 

You kept driving until you reached the state line. You found a shitty motel to stay the night in. That was probably it. 

I'm by the gate.

Back in the lab, Ford stares where you had exited. His heart shattered. He fell to his knees, tears falling like rain on the rug that depicted his muse. It took him two hours just to compose himself. Was that it? Were you just gone?

You didn’t know. You weren’t a scientist. You weren’t engulfed in your work like he was. You weren’t seeking out the answers to the universe. 

But you were his. He was yours. 

None of that matters now, though. He had his muse, and he was going to get the answers he wanted anyway. 

Now you go alone. Charm all the people you train for. 

A week later, you were back in your hometown. back in your childhood bedroom. Everything was the same, yet different. 

When you walked inside your home, you hugged your mother and sobbed. You felt like your life was falling apart. Now you have to live far from your passion. Far from your love. 

You mean well, but aim low.

You ended up getting a job at the local shoe store. It was a small business. Nothing fancy or special. Just money until you could fathom making it alone again. 

Back at your house, your phone rings. You pick up and hear Ford's voice on the other line. His voice was weak and breathy. Nothing like the Ford that’s tough and hard like usual. 

“Stardust, come home. please.  I miss you.” 

“Stanford. You know I can’t. It’s not safe. I can't put myself through that.”

Ford cringed when you said his full name. It felt wrong. 

“Okay. I'll be waiting for you when you’re ready,” He hangs up and shakily puts the phone back on the wall. 

And I’ll make it known, like I’m getting paid. 

Ford takes his journal and writes. writes until he can’t anymore. You were the only thing on his mind. It was consuming him. He drew you; he wrote letters to you that he would never send; he wrote what would have happened if he had never told you. The what-ifs are killing him. 

Eventually he does fall asleep. It wasn’t peaceful. or restful. It was painful, horrible, and restless. He woke up, face down in his journal, a new page open. 

The page had writing on it that he hadn’t written. 

“Wowzies sixer! You must have really liked this girl. Well, good riddance! She was holding you back.”

He was right. His muse was right. You were holding him back. 

Ford writes back, “Now that I think of it, you’re right.”

That’s just the way life goes.

Life goes on. 6 months later, you receive a cryptic voicemail from Ford. He sounded distorted. 

“Hiya staarduustt, I know you mean a lot to this—me. So I just wanted to tell you that I will not be alive in the morning. Okay, byeee.”

The chime of the end of the voicemail sounds. 

He’s… dying?

I like to slam doors closed.

You run to your room. Grab all your things and get out to your car. You leave a note for your mom, telling her that you won’t be back, and you’re leaving for Oregon.

You drive to the middle of Wyoming, about to crash from lack of sleep. You park somewhere and decide to sleep in your car. Bright and early, when you woke up, you hit the road again. It was another 12 hours until you reached your destination. 

The home you once had with him. You two built it together, made the plans together, and lived in it together. Now it stands as a house you no longer live in. You stare at the key in your hand that goes to the house. You take a deep breath and sit in your car for a bit. 

A few minutes pass and you see another car pull up. He immediately gets out of the car. The guy... he looks like a clone of Stanford, but more rugged. Is that what happened to him? 

Trust me, I know it's always about me...

You decide to watch the mystery man knock on the door of the house you once had. The actual Ford Pines opens the door with a crossbow, threatening the man. No one gets hurt, thankfully, but the door closes behind them. 

Your heart races as you realize that this could be the last chance to talk to him since he hasn’t committed suicide yet like he said he would. While tearing up, you finally open the car door and make your way to the door. You hold your breath as you turn the key and open the door. Distantly you hear yelling. Must be down in the lab. 

You ran down stairs and to the lab. You see Ford and the man fighting, like full-on fist fighting. Ford catches a glimpse of you, and the color drains from his face. 

“What are you doing here?” He seems frozen. The other man turns around to look at you. Ford starts backing up in… fear? Astonishment? 

“I thought you were going to kill yourself!” You eventually get out. You were choking back your tears, trying to seem strong in front of these men. Not like you care. 

You watch as Ford trips over the lever that activated the portal. He fell so far back that he was getting sucked into it. 

He was sobbing. Tears streamed down his face. “I love you, I’m sorry,” then he was gone.

[treacheryinblue]

Chapter 3/4

Noah Sebastian x F!Reader Series

Word Count: 8.9k

Masterlist

× Summary: Noah is Death, the ruler of the after life (or whatever you want to call it), though he is cursed to watch you come and go from his never ending existence time and time again.

× Warnings!: Eh-level smut (P in V obviously), language, little bit of violence, tiny fluff if you squint, very slight dom!noah, smut with plot aka this became more in depth than I meant for it to aka a one shot that's now a series. Non-proofread smut. Let me know if I missed anything!

× Author's Notes: ( 1 ) It's a bit of a long one, folks! Consider it a thank you for being so patient while I've worked through my writer's block. ( 2 ) Don't look too deep into the lore I've created because there's probably a lot that doesn't make sense. But if you are curious, then feel free to ask me any questions! ( 3 ) I'm but a writer that thrives off positive feedback (or even constructive criticism), so don't be shy when it comes to interacting with the post, or even me.

Happy reading! xoxo

“That soul is not meant for this land, my lord.”

Silence was given as a response. 

“She is not destined to be here, and you know what will hap-”

“Yes, I am well aware of the consequences to my actions.” Noah heavily exhaled, though he appeared uninterested in the conversation. 

Sitting atop his throne, black and sleek, one hand gripped the arm rest while the other was bent and lifted to his face. He examined his nails, further showing his boredom. 

“Please forgive me if I'm speaking out of turn, my lord, but…the Light Ones are not happy. It has been nine times now and each plays out just like the last.”

A growl was emitted from him, dark eyes flickering to the creature who stood below. “I do not need you reciting my failures to me, demon.”

Noah couldn't bear to think of how you had been ripped from him countless times now. Pried from his hands. Stolen away. You had spent centuries together, longer than any human could dream of living - if one could call you alive - but he knew an infinite amount of centuries more would never be enough. He needed forever. 

“If the Light Ones think I'm going to give up just because they look down upon my doings, then they are sorely mistaken. Maybe they aren't as all knowing as they like to remind us of every chance they receive.” He spat with disdain. 

The demon clamped their mouth shut in fear that they may further anger the embodiment of darkness sitting before them. This is how they remained for a long moment, neither speaking, but the demon holding many questions on their pointed tongue. 

“‘My lord…” they cautiously began after a moment. “Might I ask…what is it about this girl that you're so drawn to? You encounter humans everyday, thousands of them, but none have made you so…”

“Weak?” Noah finished the demon’s sentence for them, his eyebrows quirked. 

The demon immediately fell to their knees, their jagged forehead pressing to the marble floor as if to already begin begging for forgiveness. 

“No! I would never say as such, my lord!” 

Noah shook his head as his focus returned to his nails, just as the ruby encrusted dagger appeared within his grasp out of thin air. 

“There's no need to grovel,” he exclaimed while turning the dagger, inspecting every inch of the blade. “I have become weak when it comes to her…but I don't have an answer for you as to why.”  

It was still a mystery even to him. 

“Does Death itself not deserve the chance to love and to be loved in return, though?” 

× × ×

“Legend says it's cursed.” 

You snorted a laugh as you looked up at the friendly face across the counter, though his expression was as serious as ever, causing your smile to falter slightly. 

“Cursed?” Might as well indulge him a bit if he was going to get all mega serious on you now. 

Nicholas was your go-to guy when it came to purchasing oddities and strange artifacts. He was good at tracking down the specific items you'd ask for but he also had a knack for snagging things he thought you'd find interesting. 

Your eyes dropped to the dagger as you leaned into the glass countertop. There was a twitch in your fingers to reach out and touch the item, to feel the cool metal against your fingertips, though you knew better. Nick was typically pretty light hearted and you two could share a laugh, but you knew when to stay within your lane when it came to his business. Don't touch it until he offers it to you. 

“From what I could find online, it's ancient, so old that no one can really say for sure how long it's been around. And you know how it goes with old things - always a curse or some shit attached to them.” 

Nodding in agreement to his words, your eyes paused upon the faintly noticeable sigil that remained etched into the dagger’s blade. The sigil is why you wanted the item, what you had asked Nick to search for in particular. 

“It's probably bullshit,” he continued, “but it was something about going to the flames if you're on the end of the blade.”

“The website was in some foreign language and the guy I bought it from barely spoke English so I can't give you an accurate translation yet. Who even knows if it's legit.” 

The bell above the door dinging briefly overtook Nicholas' attention. He held a finger up to you to silently tell you to ‘hold on’, then he stepped around the counter to greet his new patrons. 

“It's legit,” you softly spoke to yourself as you gazed upon the dagger again. There was something drawing you to it; a warmth, a knowing. Your eyes focused in on the cloudy rubies - you knew they'd shine again with a thorough cleaning - and they pulled you closer and closer, your sights now level with the item. Had there been a flicker within the largest stone? Couldn't be. Your eyes were clearly playing tricks on you now. 

As Nick returned, you straightened your posture and smiled. “I'll take it.” 

“What?” Nicholas opened his mouth to speak but then only breathed out, his head tilting slightly to the side. 

“You know I have to charge you as if it's real, right? I mean, I haven't been able to fully inspect it myself or do anymore research, so I feel kinda like an asshole doing th-”

“Nick, it's fine.” You laughed while retrieving your wallet from your bag, fingers digging into the slot that held your credit card. “It's a chance I'm willing to take.” 

“Alright…it's your money.” 

A few minutes later and your new purchase was packaged and ready to go. Nick approached you with an outstretched hand that held the blood red box the dagger was stashed away in, uncertainty in his eyes. You knew he hated not knowing all the ins and outs of his inventory, especially when it came to something with such a hefty price tag. 

“Are you coming tonight?” He asked as you accepted the box which was now being held close to your chest. 

“It's the first show with our new singer but he's been fucking great in rehearsals. Really has an ear for the band.” 

You nodded, again flashing a friendly smile. “I wouldn't miss it for the world.” 

After a bit more chit chat and hammering down the finer details on how the night would go, you said your goodbyes to Nicholas with the obvious promise of seeing him in a few short hours. 

Making your way out of the shop, phone in hand and AirPods nestled in your ears, you only looked up when you were about to cross the street. On the opposite side stood a man, his dark eyes set entirely on you. He was wearing all black with deep brown hair that brushed his cheeks, hands clasped behind his back. Something about him made your stomach do a flip and you felt a pull despite having no idea who this man was. 

Slowly, your feet began to carry you along the crosswalk. He remained in place, though a faint smirk dared to appear over his lips. Your cheeks flushed crimson and you had the urge to glance away like some timid little school girl, but there was something preventing you from looking anywhere but at him. 

“Come.” 

A voice drifted into your mind and then back out as if being carried by the wind. You knew that should've frightened you but you felt nothing. Nothing aside from the biting need to be near this unknown man. 

Then, he was suddenly gone and you were left empty. 

The blaring beep of a horn shook you, your body flinching in surprise from the sudden harsh noise. You looked over to the car that was inches from colliding with you, a hand waving all about behind the windshield and motioning for you to get the fuck out of the way. 

× × ×

 

Arms above your head, you loudly hollered along with the rest of the crowd as the song came to an end. Red lights flashed all around you, the stage illuminating and going fully dark in quick succession. Your hands collided in a fury of claps before lowering to cup around your mouth. 

“Wooooo!” You had never been much of a ‘woo girl’ but alcohol made it loads more enjoyable to do. 

You could feel the vibrations from both the noise you projected and the bass of the band in the hollow of your stomach, reverberating throughout your entire being. There was something sensual about it - being able to not only hear the music but also feel it. 

Nicholas’ band had been pretty decent before so coming to see them and support their gigs was never an issue. But now? They were fucking amazing. The new singer definitely added to whatever they had been lacking previously, even if there wasn't anything specific you could put your finger on. 

Did it help that the new singer happened to catch your eye a few times? Maybe. 

“Hey!” Nicholas yelled out for you after their set. He had found you at the bar towards the back of the club - just where you always were. 

“Hey yourself!” You called back as a fresh drink was set in front of you by the bartender. 

Nick rolled his eyes at you but still chuckled. Sweat beaded on his forehead, pupils blown from the adrenaline rush he had experienced while on stage. You always thought Nick was pretty cute and you both had a lot in common - he had even asked you out once - but things were better kept as friends between the two of you. As well as the occasional artifacts dealer, of course. 

“Didn't get a chance to see you before we went on, so let me introduce you to the newest member.” 

“Noah!” The guy spoke up for himself, his voice loud enough for him to be heard over the commotion of the crowd and also the next band setting up. 

You paused as your gaze met his, eyes squinting ever so slightly while taking in his face from this new close proximity. He looked just like the ethereal man you had seen outside of Nick’s shop earlier, but also…not. That guy had been finely dressed with much shorter hair and a presence about him that demanded attention, this guy in front of you was the epitome of a 'guy in a band'. Long hair, jeans blown out at the knee, worn Vans that told you he dressed for comfort. Their smiles were the same, though. 

Instead of giving your name, you opted for a question.  “Do you have a brother?” 

Noah extended to you a look of confusion though you swore you saw a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes. 

 “Uh, no? Not that I know of.” Despite your weird question, he laughed and stepped a bit closer to you, his elbow leaning into the side of the bar top. 

Nicholas had fallen into conversation with another band mate, leaving just you and Noah to entertain each other. 

You spared him the explanation of why you had asked such a question. The last thing you needed was to seem creepy or more odd than you already did on a day to day basis. Thankfully it didn't seem as if that was going to deter him from cozying up to you at the end of the bar. 

Drink after drink was had with a couple of shots downed in between. You had found out that Noah had recently moved to Los Angeles, worked at a graphic design company, owned a cat, and shared a building with a rather odd Asian woman that liked to bring him homemade meals multiple times a week. 

You also discovered that you liked the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled too wide and how he was always touching his face as if it was a comforting habit of some sort. 

“Nick said you like to collect…unusual things?” 

You cleared your throat and abruptly averted your gaze before he could realize you had been staring. 

“I guess that's one way to put it,” you admitted with a sheepish smile. Not even the alcohol could mask the embarrassment. 

“My dad was an antiques dealer, scam artist, whatever you want to call it.” You paused to take a swallow from your glass but to also let your honesty sink in. 

“So, I kinda just grew up with old objects that told a story. Buying them for myself - as someone who will care for them and their story - sounds better to me than allowing them to be on display in a stuffy museum somewhere.” 

“That's why you bought the dagger?” 

Huh…had you mentioned the dagger to him? Maybe not. Maybe so. Maybe Nick told him about it. Either way, you took in a deep breath, your head swimming from the alcohol. 

“Not exactly…” 

Noah looked at you curiously, silently asking for you to continue. To tell him. But how were you to explain that you awoke one day with this nagging obsession for the sigil stamped on the blade? That you desired to find every single item you possibly could that bore the same marking? It was impossible to divulge because you had no idea why you had become so hell bent on acquiring these things. You didn't even know what the damned sigil meant. 

“Did you want to see it?” 

And like he had been waiting for you to ask, Noah flashed a devilish grin.  

“I'd love to.”

× × ×

Pleasure erupted throughout your entire body as Noah kneeled between your spread legs. His hands held tight to your hips, pulling you down to grind against him with every forward thrusting motion. He groaned above you, teeth gritted and jaw clenched, revealing to you all the work he was putting in. 

And boy did you feel it. 

You had already cum twice - once from his mouth and again from him bending you over the arm of the couch when neither of you could make it to your bedroom fast enough. 

Most of the time even you had to pray the wind was blowing in the right direction so you could cum in a timely manner, yet Noah had managed to get you there in near record time. 

“Fucking hell! Right there!” You cried out as his cock pierced just the right spot within your drenched and aching cunt. Heavy pants escaped from you, each breath becoming louder and more pronounced the harder he drove his hips. 

Noah’s tattooed fingers dug deep enough into your hips that you knew you'd have bruises the next morning. They'd match the bruise you'd have on your ass from when he had you bent over and administered quite a harsh spank. 

He released your hips so he could trail his hands down along your tense thighs, kneading and massaging into the flesh. One hand continued its downwards trek to your clit as the other drifted up, pausing at your neck. Slender fingers secured around your throat and applied enough pressure to cause your heart to race and your breath to hitch, though not enough to cause any worry. 

Why would you ever be worried about hooking up with a stranger and allowing him into the privacy of your home? 

Noah's thumb swirled around your clit, each pass over the nerves causing your thighs to twitch and your hips to buck. He was then leaning over you so he could capture your lips in a hungry kiss, so much so that you swore you heard him growl against your lips. Not that you were fazed by this. 

“Uh uh,” he scolded after parting from your lips to gaze down at you. “Eyes open.” 

To show how serious he was in this demand, his hand further tightened around your throat, short nails digging into the sensitive skin. You gasped for air but it was all too much; the overpowering ecstasy that coursed through your every being as you felt his cock throb inside of you, the rigid veins that stimulated the tight walls of your pussy, his thumb on your clit, his onyx eyes never drifting from yours. 

How were you to survive this night? 

Your body tensed and your lower back arched as you felt the first ripplings of your orgasm. Your third orgasm. Then - everything released. You writhed beneath him, eyes finally closing which was no choice of your own, all while his name and a mixture of other profanities echoed through the room. 

In the midst of your climax, your vision was hazy from the intensity, as well as the lack of oxygen greeting your brain. With every blink Noah’s face shifted; it went from the band frontman you had met that night to the dark stranger across the street earlier in the day, then back again, only to repeat the cycle. There was no way that's what was really happening, so you chalked it up to your overactive imagination and mostly drunken state. 

The mess you made meant nothing to you, nor did the added mess of his cum when he managed to meet his ending in tandem. Noah’s hips lost momentum gradually before stilling completely, though your cunt continued to collapse and clench around him until your body finally settled. 

It wasn’t much later that Noah laid sprawled across your bed, his face pressed to the pillow, breathing steady after drifting off to sleep. Unfortunately, you didn't have the same luxury. There was a darkness creeping into your mind, repeated phrases demanding things of you, things of which you had never considered before. 

“Do it,” the voice whispered in your ear. 

At first you assumed it was Noah by the brush of his hair on your face and the familiar grasp of his fingers around your waist. But when you glanced back, he hadn't moved a muscle. 

“It would be so easy…”

“You want to. I know you want to. I can smell it on you.” 

When your eyes opened, the blood red box from Nick’s shop sat at your side. It was unwrapped, the dagger staring up at you from its temporary home. Taunting. Begging. Screaming to be touched. 

You listened. 

Fingertips traced the metal of the handle, down to the tip of the dagger that remained sheathed. 

“Pick it up.”

The order from the disembodied voice was obeyed, the dagger soon resting in your grasp. Still, no one was in the room with you other than Noah’s sleeping form, so how did you feel a breath on your neck? 

Rubies embedded in the dagger shone before your eyes now that it was held up for you to admire. So beautiful. Just what you had been searching for all this time. 

“Do it.”

You knew what the voice was asking of you. You knew it would end in your demise. Yet, you felt no fear. If anything, you were…excited. Possibly even anxious for what was to come. 

“Do it!” The voice loudly rang out, deep and commanding in your mind. 

Both hands now gripped the handle of the dagger after you pulled it from its sheath.  Arms stretched out before you, the blade was perfectly angled just where you somehow knew it needed to end up. 

Right in your heart. 

“Do it! Now!”

With quick motion that held all of your strength, you impaled the dagger into your own chest. You could hear it break through the bone that protected your heart - your body no match to the power that lied within the weapon. 

“...going to the flames if you're on the end of the blade.” Nick's voice now penetrated your mind, a memory from hours ago. His words being that of the loosely translated curse that the dagger held. 

As soon as the blade punctured your chest, you felt a sense of clarity. You knew what the curse now was: die by way of the blade, go straight to Hell. 

Eyes wide, you looked down to the dagger protruding from you. Blood spilled from the wound, coating your naked body, staining your sheets. You tried to call out for Noah despite knowing he wouldn't be able to do anything to help you. 

Gathering what remained of your strength, which was next to none, you again glanced back to where you expected to see him sleeping. Instead, he was standing at the side of the bed, hands clasped behind his back, wearing the same smirk you had seen from the other Noah outside of Nicholas’ shop. 

In a blink you were then being cradled in his tattooed arms. His fingertips brushed your hair back from your face in the most loving of gestures, lips moving though you couldn't make out a thing he was saying. You couldn't hear anything. Couldn't feel anything. All you could do was allow yourself to be encased by the cold hands of death as it dragged you deeper and deeper down to the dismal abyss. 

“I'll see you on the other side, my love.”

× × ×

The forever night of the land taunted you as you gazed out the large window. Stars freckled the sky, twinkling and swirling cosmos in some spots, remaining still in most just as the night sky did back home. 

Home. 

Everyday that passed you forgot more and more what it looked like. 

You had remembered your death, all of your deaths, within minutes this time. Noah was beyond pleased, confessing that he always wondered if dying by your own hand was the trick though he had been nervous to see. Nervous to know what it would do to you. 

Well, now he knew. 

You were livid. Never had you felt so betrayed, and you made sure he was well aware of your anger towards him. Something told you that he felt it in your lack of appearances since you had yet to face him fully since arriving. 

“The Dark Lord has requested your presence today.”

A demon who had been appointed to your side ran a brush through your hair, gently ridding the strands of any tangles that had formed while you slept. You had told them day one that you could do it yourself but they insisted. Tending to you was now their duties and they had to do as commanded. 

“You can tell the Dark Lord to kiss my ass,” you mocked. 

The demon held back what you thought was the semblance of a chuckle, their unusually long fingers continuing to ready your hair for the day. 

“Forgive me for being so blunt, but I think it would be best if you spoke with him. Perhaps let your grievances out however you see fit?” 

Had you not done that the moment your memories returned? You very much recall throwing a heavy tea pot at his head, although he had dodged it with ease. Were your shouts of frustration not enough? Your tears? 

It wasn't that you were upset to be back with him. You were more so mad about how he had gotten you here this time. There had to be some other way that left out the whole dying part. 

“What's your name?” 

The demon paused briefly at your question. You could tell they had never been asked before, though you weren't sure if it was because everyone else here knew how things went or if no one simply cared. 

“I don't remember.” 

This confused you. Shifting a bit in your seat, you turned your upper body to look at the creature. They were definitely a sight to behold; scaly skin that glistened as if perpetually wet, yellow eyes with only the smallest white pupil appearing like a cat’s, a row of chipped horns going down the center of their head. 

You had stopped being scared of the demons here long ago. 

“Lowly demons, such as myself, lose their names upon becoming what we are. We are simply demon. The others, the ones you've probably heard of in some capacity within your mortal stories, are given new names when they become His strongest warriors.” 

Out of all of your ventures here, you had never been told about the inner workings of the land. You found it to be interesting. 

“Oh…” You felt silly for even asking, now also concerned that you had probably brought up a sore subject for the demon. No name? No identity? You couldn't imagine. 

Once the demon had somehow managed to weave deep red garnets and black diamonds into your hair, you were sent off to where Noah would be waiting. You tried to fight it, arms crossed over your chest as you sat pouting on the edge of the bed, but eventually the demon helped you realize that Noah would see you whether you wanted it or not. It was wise for you to go to him. 

And so you did. Like some sort of invisible string leading you to him, you managed to find him standing on the large balcony that jutted out from the castle, overlooking his land in silence. His posture straightened upon sensing your arrival, gaze now set only on you. 

“You look…” Onyx eyes raked up and down your body, no shame detected within them as he took in the black gown you had been instructed to put on. You didn’t want to admit to him the way his heavy stare made you feel. There was already a tingling in your lower stomach that radiated down between your thighs - no. You wouldn't fall for it that easily this time. 

“Don't,” you merely requested, a hand being held up to signal for him to stop any further words. Steps were then taken around him so you could approach the railing of the balcony, the carved stone cool beneath your touch as you tightly grasped it. 

“You're still angry…”

You said nothing. Silence overtaking you. 

“I…” he began, his voice falling while trying to gather his thoughts. Never had he been so concerned about anyone else before. Never had he been forced to wonder what the right thing would be to earn your forgiveness. 

“I'm sorry that things had to happen this way.”

Well, that weak excuse for an apology definitely made you want to yell at him to shove it up his ass. 

Your jaw clenched, knuckles turning white from the death grip you held on the stone railing. It would surely crack and splinter if any more of your strength was to be endured. 

“I liked your hair better longer,” you finally spoke, though you didn't look his way. Instead, your gaze remained focused out into the night, slowly cataloging and memorizing every dip and valley. 

“That you was nicer.”

Noah slowly shook his head as he reached out to lightly touch your hair, heated fingertips brushing the strands from your bare shoulder to reveal the curve of your neck. 

“Funny, because that was me, just in a slightly altered form to keep up appearances.”

As if he could read your thoughts, he continued. 

“I was never human, you know this. So, there are no other versions of me like there have been of you. There's only one. That's how it'll forever be.” 

Anger flared within you. “You're telling me…that you've been able to come to Earth this entire time? That I haven't needed to brutally die again and again to be with you? You are an insufferable mons-”

A strong hand grasped your arm, turning your body and pulling you in closer. You could tell that Noah wanted to speak to you as if you were one of his demons, someone for him to control, but he managed to contain his rage. 

“Do you know the danger I put my entire realm in just to walk amongst the living with you for an extended period of time? To go for my own selfish reasons and not because of my duties? To help guide you back to me? You're blind to the repercussions this land faced. Souls piled up, punishments halted, everything at a standstill. Do you think that has ever happened before?”

Silence as your eyes searched his. 

“We may have spent one night together on Earth, but the sheer amount of deaths within that singular night that went unprocessed…” 

Noah shuddered at the thought, his grip on you then loosening before releasing completely. 

“Think of me what you will, but what I did was for us. Everything I've done, and will do again and again, for us.”

You wanted to understand. You wanted to touch his face and tell him everything was okay. You wanted to press yourself into him and let his warmth overtake you. 

You wanted so many things, but none of it was what you did. 

Instead of giving into these wants and needs, you gave him one last look and then turned on your heel to saunter back into the farthest reaches of the castle. 

× × ×

The only thing you truly despised about this place was the lack of time. While you had an abundance of it, more than you could ever ask for, you still had no idea how much had passed. Days? Months? Hell, maybe a century? Time didn't work the same way here as it did on Earth, which you already knew, but it surely did drag when you were choosing to spend it alone. 

You had attempted to keep track of it at the beginning but eventually gave up when nothing fit the way it should have in your human mind. Noah even offered to set a sleep schedule, though that disappeared rather fast when his duties became too much to juggle along with it. 

A heavy sigh expelled from you as you flipped over onto your back. Your eyes stared through the darkness of your bedroom and up to the high ceiling where the same stars as the night sky beyond the open window danced along. A neat little trick Noah did when he knew you were restless. He may have been an asshole but he knew how to make you melt when showing his softer side. A side no one had ever seen before you. 

With another huff, you caved. 

Moments later you were standing in front of his bedroom door after having gently knocked. The door opened almost immediately, revealing his relaxed form sitting upon a grandeur bed with papers strewn about. It was always funny to see him do actual work especially when you had never witnessed anyone outside of the demons wandering the halls. 

Sometimes you'd hear other voices when he was locked away in his study, but nothing beyond that. 

“Stars didn't work?” 

You twisted your lips, head shaking in a single motion. 

“They're nice - beautiful - but it's not the same as…” you trailed off for a moment while trying to decide how much of your pride you were willing to spill down the drain. Not the same as when we're laying together. 

Noah noticed, he knew what you were going to say. He allowed you to keep the stubborn pride for now. In a snap the papers cleared away from a spot on the bed for you, an invitation to join him. 

Sitting against him, your knees bent to the side and your head resting on his shoulder, he continued to work. He would occasionally look over at you, brush your hair back, lightly touch your lips or cheek, then focus again. 

How you had managed to wrap Death around your finger, you would never know. 

“Can I ask a question?” 

Noah nodded, the paper in his hand being placed down so he could fully focus on you now. Another thing you loved about him: he never made you feel as if your presence was a bother. No matter what he was in the middle of. 

“Is this how you've always looked? Or do you only appear like this to me?” 

A crooked smile appeared on his features, his eyes crinkling in the corners just as you remembered from your brief time on Earth with him. 

“Why do you ask?” 

Avoidance - as usual. 

“I don't know…I mean, when it comes to humans, you are either shown as a skeleton in robes or this otherworldly beautiful man without flaws.” You shrugged. 

You didn't add on that you were also curious as to what was real. 

Noah didn't taunt you for your poor wording choice. He knew he was beautiful and he knew that you also knew this, but he understood what you meant. 

“Technically,” he began while rubbing his chin as if trying to find the right way to describe it to you, “I'm without a body because what I am transcends physical being.” 

Okay, that you could understand, at least for the most part. Was it still an odd thought? Yes, of course. All of this was odd. 

“But I've chosen to take on a flesh and blood form, even before you came along the first time. It helps to do so in my line of work…so the souls can relate, maybe feel a bit of comfort for a brief moment.” 

As he spoke you traced random designs and patterns into the top of his thigh, your fingertip slowly dragging along the soft material of his pants. You inwardly smirked to yourself when you noticed him shiver as your fingers traveled higher along his inner thigh. 

“I may have adjusted a few things specifically for you, though.” 

“That's why you have all the tattoos?” Your hand left his thigh so you could lightly touch the front of his neck, eyes focused on the inked designs that were quite an interesting choice for him. The religious visuals weren't lost on you - you knew why he had chosen those in particular. A cruel mocking to those above. A middle finger to the “Light Ones” who were always trying to act all better-than-thou. 

You didn't tell him that this was quite a human response just to spare you the glare he would surely respond with. 

“And the lisp?” You further teased, a smile finally gracing your lips again. 

“Again - makes me relatable.”

You hummed in thought, watching him as he watched you. Noah had yet to return to his work meaning he knew there was more you wanted to say. And while this was true, you were more so transfixed by how close you two were. You could feel his breath on your face and see the patterns of different brown shades within his irises, both combined drawing you closer and closer until finally your lips collided with his. 

Were you still mad at him? Yes, very much so, but that didn't change the feelings you had for him. The tether between you was far too strong, probably impossible to snap. 

Noah didn't waste any time as your kiss deepened and intensified. He leaned back into the pillows of his bed, drawing you with him until your body almost completely covered his. You touched along his face and down his chest, eager fingers tugging and pushing at the shirt he wore. You needed him now. 

There were moments when you both liked to take your time, each unwrapping the other like a precious gift, fully savoring the anticipation. Then there were times when it was impatient and needy, as if you couldn't get him inside of you fast enough. Simply a blur of hands until you were both naked without the pesky barriers of clothes getting in the way of your desires.

One guess as to which side you were both currently feeling. 

As your clothes were stripped away, flimsy lace being tossed aside, you further crawled on top of him. Knees pressed down onto either side of his hips, your nails scratching along his inked chest before firmly grasping his broad shoulders. The kiss you shared had yet to cease, both of you kissing the other with a desperate need; sweeping tongues and clashing of teeth. 

Noah released your hips to cup your breasts within his large hands, thumbs skimming and circling your sensitive nipples to pull a faint whimper from you. Chills formed over your heated skin, your teeth roughly sinking into his lower lip that caused him to hiss and pinch your nipples in return. 

“Behave,” he lowly threatened while you could only pout in response. 

Both hands then fell from your chest; one dropped to begin pushing his last article of clothing down as the other gripped tight into your hair. Noah roughly yanked your head to the side to further expose your neck, his lips immediately kissing a hot trail to your jaw. He knew exactly what teasing your neck did to you, arousal pooling between your thighs as you needily whimpered for him. 

“And you thought you'd be able to stay away.” 

You wanted to knee him right in the side for the petty comment, but he was already adjusting your position and tugging you higher up on his hips so you could hover above his hard cock. 

Noah smirked against your skin, his tongue flicking at the sensitive spot right below your ear. The moment his teeth nipped at the same spot he pushed your hips down so the wide swollen head of his cock could force through your tight entrance. You gasped and he groaned in unison, his own muscles straining from the vice grip your cunt already had on him. 

“I can stay away,” you countered. “I just didn't want to.”

The devilish gleam returned to his eyes while gazing up at you, knowing that deep down you also knew you couldn't stay away. It didn't matter what your stubborn protest said. 

Releasing your hair, both of Noah’s hands held tight to your hips. You were still trying to adjust to his size, slowly easing yourself down another inch, but he was clearly much more impatient than you were. This was proven when he forced your hips all the way down until they sat flush against his, the entirety of his cock tunneling through your pussy. Of course how wet you were helped, but nothing could ease the tight stretch. 

Your head tossed back as you released a loud moan, all other thoughts leaving your mind except for those of him. Sharp nails dug so deep into his chest that you swore you would draw blood - not that Noah would care. 

“Good girl,” the Dark Lord rasped. 

His impatience didn't end there. Although he wanted to be kind and let you find your bearings, there was truly no need when he was well aware that you liked things just as he did: rough, animalistic, whatever you wanted to call it. 

Keeping you steady atop him, his hips thrusted up from the bed in rapid succession, angling just right to make sure your body quivered and your cries of pleasure never ceased. Noah loved watching you come undone for him, loved seeing your stubbornness overtaken by your pure need for the sensations that only he could give you. Everything about it, from the sounds you made to the way your face contorted in pleasure, was addicting. 

You could barely contain yourself as he continued to drive his throbbing cock straight up into you. Your pussy fluttered, more and more of your arousal slipping free until it ran down his length and helped aid in his endeavors to completely ruin you. Noah knew that you were already close, he could tell by the way your moans became more frequent and heightened in pitch. 

“That's it,” he grunted as his hands tightened around your waist and he forced you down to roughly meet the upward thrusts of his hips. “Let go.”

As if on command, your body seized and your back arched. An orgasm ripped through you, claiming full control as you trembled and your hips jerked, the pleasure so intense that you couldn't even make a sound. 

Noah had no intentions of stopping, though. He settled down against the bed, still buried as deep as possible within the warmth of your climaxing cunt. His grip fell from your waist to your hips, now guiding you in a back and forth grind to keep you overstimulated and whimpering for him. 

“You're so fucking beautiful when you cum for me.” 

In a swift motion he had you on your back, the papers from his work crunching beneath you, some digging into your skin but it was of no concern to you right then. You were basking in the high of your orgasm, well aware that there was more to come. Noah never stopped at just one. He had to bring you as close to breaking as he possibly could before he was satisfied. Sometimes that could be done in as little as two rounds and sometimes you were at it for hours until you had lost count of your orgasms and forming any sort of coherent thought was impossible. 

Not daring to pull out from your warmth, Noah brought one of your legs over so your lower half twisted for him, leaving you open and vulnerable but still capable of seeing each other. You quivered as you felt the thick rigid veins that lined his cock throb when they shifted within you, every inch of you sensitive from the orgasm you were still coming down from. 

Noah had a hold of your ass in one hand and your thigh in the other to make sure you remained right where he wanted you as he slowly pulled out until just the head of his cock remained. Then, he used every bit of strength he had to thrust right back into you, the pace being set slow but impossibly hard. Your jaw clenched and your toes curled, your body barely able to handle what Noah presented to you. 

You shook your head, squeaks and whimpers of words unsaid escaping from your throat. He knew what he was doing to you, though. He knew exactly what angles to fuck you from that would leave you dumb - for lack of a better term. 

“Is it too much for you, my love?” He taunted, a mock sympathetic tone to his voice. 

To show that he didn't care, he only picked up his speed, the driving force behind his hips remaining relentless. The harsh slap as your bodies collided sounded through the room, followed by a piercing smack when his strong hand came down upon your ass cheek, mixing with your symphony of moans. Your walls ached and burned but you didn't dare request he stop, not even for a moment, though you didn't truly want him to. You loved when he would get like this, a sort of sadistic gleam flaring in his dark eyes despite trying to pleasure you to the best of his abilities. 

“Touch yourself.” 

The demand made you whine under your breath. Noah knew what he was doing. You managed to slip your hand down between your clamped thighs, a fingertip brushing the swollen nerves ever so softly, but it was enough to make your body twitch and your cunt clamp tighter around his cock. His brows pulled together, the hold he had on you tightening. 

It was too much. Your body was so sensitive, and touching your clit was that mixture of pleasure and pain that made your abdomen muscles tense and your hips writhe. 

“I didn't say to stop,” Noah hissed through gritted teeth. How he had known you paused your fingers over your clit, you weren't sure, but you quickly obeyed his demand again. 

“N-Noah…” you whimpered, tears brimming your eyes and threatening to spill over. You looked up at him through your watery vision, though you were still able to make out the smirk he wore upon his flushed cheeks. Not even the damp strands of dark hair could cover that look in his eyes as he gazed down at you, enamored with all that you were. 

“Uh uh,” he shook his head. “If you stop, then so do I.” 

Fuck. That was the last thing you wanted. It may have been too much and overwhelming but you were desperate to cum again. Not only that, but you needed to feel him filling you as well. You needed his cum seeping out of you, warming you from the inside out. Breathing a life into you that was ironic for Death. 

His grip remained tight on your thigh though his other hand slithered up to knead at your breast, his fingers digging into your flesh, pinching and tugging your nipple. You were getting close again, so so close. As your own fingers continued to rub your clit, each stroke sending electric shocks through you, you released moan after moan, crying out his name in pleasure. 

“Next time we should place a bet on how long you can go without my dick,” he spoke through his own groans, the strain evident in his voice. 

Noah released your breast and instead secured his long tattooed fingers around your throat. His grip was tight, a silent reminder that he could easily crush your airways if he ever had the desire to do so. Which he didn't - he would never lay a hand on you in ways you didn't beg for - but the danger of it, the possibility, radiated down to your core and helped build your oncoming climax. 

“I know you're constantly needy for it. I can smell your arousal when I'm near, so sweet and intoxicating…” 

His voice was raw and deep, each word sending you closer to the edge. Every touch to your body felt like a flame licking your skin, tears still welling in your eyes, your cunt desperate for both your release and his. 

“Please…” you begged in a breathless whisper as your fingers circled your clit in a messy rhythm, unable to get pace with his brutal pounding. 

Noah’s lips twitched within his lingering smirk when your pleas met his ears, the sound causing his cock to twitch and his hips to snap in a quick succession into you. 

A single nod was given, allowing you the gift of an orgasm, and also letting you know that even he couldn't find his words anymore. He was far too focused on the tight grip of your pussy that was swallowing him deeper, almost like he could hear it begging for his cum. If that didn't feed his already oversized ego, then nothing would. 

The pressure built until you couldn't stand it anymore. Your fingers and toes tingled, a white hot heat exploding throughout the entirety of your body as you were overcome with your orgasm. Sharp nails raked down his forearm, skin breaking in their path and sullying the tattoos, though you knew it would heal rapidly. Your cunt erupted in a rush that soaked the sheets and also managed to push Noah right over the edge with you. Typically he had better control, but sometimes it was even too much for him. 

“Fuck…you're so good at taking it, you always are.” 

A final thrust had him emptying inside of you, feeding you that particular warmth you had been desperate for. You hummed in delight, your eyes heavy lidded but focused solely up on him so you could witness his undoing. Noah’s eyes closed and brows furrowed, his jaw falling slack as your name was groaned from him once, twice, three times. You could feel his muscular thighs trembling and you just knew he was trying his best not to collapse on you from the power of his orgasm and also the workout he had just put himself through. 

Neither of you had fully calmed before he was leaning down and forcing his lips to yours. He held firm to your chin for the duration of the hungry kiss, though it didn't last nearly as long as you would have preferred. 

Breaking from the kiss, Noah sat back up so he could slowly withdraw from your depths. He groaned at the sight of your mixed finishes dripping free, only to gently slide two fingers into your pussy with the gathered cum so you didn't lose a drop. You whimpered at the feeling, legs now spread in front of him and knees shaking. 

“Noah,” you murmured in a faint whine. “I can't.” 

Your protest didn't stop his fingers from slowly working their way in and out of your sore pussy, the strokes gentle but still overwhelming. 

“I know, my love, I just wanted to see those tears again.” 

And tears you had - a couple of stray drops falling down your cheeks, mixing with the sweat that you both exuded. 

Only when he was satisfied did he remove his fingers, just to bring them to your awaiting lips. As if on instinct you pulled them into your mouth, cheeks hollowing and tongue swirling around his inked digits to clean his cum and yourself from them. 

“Good girl.” 

Thankfully, Noah let you rest. He easily could've gone again and again but he knew you were merely a mortal (undead or not) and he didn't want the fine line between pleasure and strictly pain to be crossed. Experiencing both was one thing, something you both enjoyed and gave consent to, but forcing you to entertain only the latter for his own selfish needs was not desirable to him. 

You drifted in and out of restful sleep as you curled into Noah’s side. Your head rested upon his chest, legs tangled, his strong arm encompassing you and keeping you close. The featherlight touch of his fingertips trailing up and down your arm brought goosebumps forward, though the loving affection had you luling to sleep again. That is, until he spoke what had been plaguing his mind. 

“They're going to come for you,” he murmured, a sadness in his voice. “The Light Ones.” 

A slight sound escaped you, your head slowly shaking. Your own arm circled around his bare torso, now hugging yourself even closer to his form. Even though he was Death, something everyone feared, he had always brought a sense of peace over you. 

“Why do you let them?” 

In the past Noah had protested when they'd come for you; he would yell and threaten and make them force you away from him if they were going to take you. Never did he truly fight, though. 

A deep inhale caused your head to drift up, and then slowly back down when he exhaled. You knew he was trying to find how to word his response in a way you would understand, or at least so he wouldn’t inadvertently offend you. 

“Because at least then I know I'll see you again. If I fight, go to war for you, the Light Ones could end your bloodline completely.” 

“As in…”

“You would cease to exist. No other versions. No rebirths. I'd only have my memories of you to keep me going for the rest of eternity.” 

All of that for one lousy human? That was the main thing that had always confused you. You didn't understand why you being with Noah was so frowned upon. Why they wanted to make him suffer. Why they were determined to keep you apart. What sort of threat did his happiness pose? 

“It's not 'normal’ for us to love because it's not what we were created for, especially not me. The Light Ones claim to have love for all, whereas I'm supposed to be the other side of the coin - the hate.” Noah took in another deep breath as if explaining it all to you physically pained him. Having to admit what his purpose was…it brought him hurt, and in turn, that hurt you. 

“So for me to love, and to place all that love in one person, it makes me…” he paused and his arm around you tightened. 

“It makes us dangerous.” 

This is when you tilted your head up to look at him. Your eyes met and you offered a gentle smile, one to show him that you understood, but that didn't mean you had to accept it. You wouldn't. Not anymore. 

“I'm tired of only being able to see you in death,” you softly spoke. Your fingertips grazed slowly along the underside of his jaw and then down the curve of his neck, your gaze following the trail. When you got to the snake you paused, your nail lightly tracing the outline. “I want to fight.” 

Noah shook his head and soon his hand clasped around your own, your fingers intertwining together. “I won't risk losing you forever. I can't.” 

“And I will,” you challenged, your voice stern. “What you do here in your realm should be none of their concern. You're the fucking King, remember? Or have you already forgotten yelling that at me millenia ago?” 

The faintest of smirks tugged at the corners of his lips - of course he remembered. Noah remembered every minute, every second, that he has ever spent with you. Nothing could take those memories from him. 

“We'll discuss this further in the morning, after you've slept and had some breakfast.” 

With that, Noah blew the candle out on the conversation. The dark now surrounded you both, only the twinkling of the stars he had summoned able to be seen on the ceiling above. 

[heizlut]

Insufferable part 1

cw: none

tags: switch fem!reader, switch!scaramouche, oral (m!recieving)

nsfw under the cut

m!list here

ੈ𑁍༘⋆ *ੈ𑁍༘⋆ *ੈ𑁍༘⋆ *ੈ𑁍༘⋆ *ੈ𑁍༘

Scaramouche is so annoyed when you approach him, scowling and mentally preparing himself for whatever bullshit you might spout as you usually do when you pop in for a visit, “What the hell do you want?”

You waltz towards him with a stupid grin on your face. Why were you always so damn happy all the time? “I was bored!” you beam at him. He grimaces, “Eugh… go bother Childe instead. I don’t have time for this today.” You raise an eyebrow and look at the room around him, “But you’re not doing anything?” Scaramouche scoffs and rolls his eyes, “That doesn’t mean I wasn’t about to be busy, you pest.” You wave him off dismissively and flop down on the couch, “Scara, have you ever had a girlfriend?”

His eyes widen as he looks at you, “Excuse me? Why would I even want such a thing?” He pauses then adds, “There is nothing in human relationships for me to desire or appreciate.” You look a little amused as you meet his eyes, “Oh yeah? Well I think it’s painfully obvious that you want affection and that you’re so clearly touch-starved.”

Scaramouche’s blood begins to boil, “I do not have those weaknesses. I am a being that has risen past the superficial limitations of humanity. And if you think I'm still chained to human desires like this affection nonsense you're obsessed with, you are sorely mistaken.” You cover your mouth, trying hard to contain your laughter.

He grits his teeth and lowers his voice, “What’s so funny…” You lower your hand, having a slight smile, “It’s just.. you wouldn’t be talking like this if you were still like your old self. You used to crave being around humans and wanted to form bonds-” Scaramouche cuts you off, striking the table beside him with his hand as he raises his voice, “I am no longer Kunikuzushi! Kunikuzushi is gone. There is no part of him that remains within me whatsoever!” You rise from your seat and approach him, unfazed by his outburst, “Are you sure about that?”

He clenches his fists tightly, knowing it wouldn’t do any good to get into a physical altercation with you, "Shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you." Your features light up and your lips curl into a teasing smirk, "What? You gonna kiss me to shut me up?" Scaramouche scrunches his nose, "I would never..." You carry on with your teasing, "Oh that's right... You've never kissed anyone before have you?" He blushes furiously at your words, wanting to deny it even though you weren't wrong, "I..I don't have a desire for such a thing." Scaramouche turns his head away from you only for you to place a finger under his chin and redirect him back to you. He looks into your eyes, feeling his chest tighten as you give him a little smile and lower your tone, "Are you sure about that...."

Scaramouche is lost in your gaze for a moment before he finally breaks the tense eye contact and steps away from you, "Are you done now?" You smirk and then let out an overly-dramatic sigh, "Hmm, guess I'll go to Childe instead~" That gets his attention, his gaze snapping back over to you as you slowly make your way to the door, "W-wait... Childe?" You grin at him from over your shoulder, "Uh-huh, you told me to go bother him instead, remember?~" He fumbles over himself as his mind races for his next words. You breathe out a small laugh as you notice his behavior, "Aww do you actually want me to stay?" His cheeks heat up again as his expression twists back to annoyance, "No! ...I mean..." Scaramouche releases a deep breath when you raise an eyebrow at him, looking at him expectantly, "Use your words." Your command stirs something inside of him and he relents, "Fuck... Just stay..."

You turn back to face him once more, a devious look on your face, "Ask nicely." He runs his tongue across his teeth, so fucking annoyed that you're turning him into a mental mess, "Stay here...please." Your smile grows as you saunter back to him, "See that wasn't so hard now was it?" Scaramouche glowered at you and crossed his arms, "What is your end goal here?" You tilt your head a little and give an innocent smile, "I told you I was bored. I'm just having a little fun~" He rolls eyes, "You're idea of fun is pestering and flirting with me?" You look quite entertained by his words, "Me flirt with you? You'd like that wouldn't you.." Scaramouche's expression hardens, "I most certainly would not. You think I enjoy flirtation and teasing advances? Hah!"

You look him up and down, looking devious as ever, "I'd say so since only a couple minutes ago you got flustered and your cheeks got all red." He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration, "Do you ever shut up?" You give a dopey smile, "Nope!" Scaramouche narrows his eyes at you, "Just tell me what you want." "A kiss", you answer immediately, still with that same smile on your face. He blinks, taking in your boldness, "Excuse me?" Your eyes go half-lidded when you look to him, "You heard me. Besides, wouldn't it be nice to finally be kissed?" He rolls his eyes again, "That is not something I need to accomplish..." You place your hand on his chest and give him an alluring look, "Come on~ I'll teach you how." His brows drew together, "How does someone t-"

His words are interrupted by the feeling of your soft lips on his and your body caging him against the wall. His cheeks burn red when he realizes what's happening. Scaramouche was about to push you away until he felt you gently bite at his bottom lip and then swipe at the same spot with your tongue. He groans softly into the kiss, making his lips part a little more, granting your tongue access to his mouth. Your tongue smoothes against his as your lips move in a slow rhythm. Just as Scaramouche was about to pull you closer and deepen the kiss, you pull away. He leans forward, eyes half-lidded as he chases your lips. You laugh softly at the the needy look on his face and he quickly scrunched up his face, blushing heavily, "That's not fair... I wasn't done..."

"Then use your words and tell me what you want", your tone low and teasing. Scaramouche pulls you close to him, looking at you with desire and a hint of frustration, "I want you to kiss me again." "Good boy", you drawl as you press your lips to his again. His cock throbs in its confines from your praise and he kisses you back feverishly. Your lips move together with haste and passion. Your body pressed hard against him, feeling his bulge against you. You smirk against his lips and roll your hips against his, making his eyes snap open in shock. Scaramouche tries to separate from the kiss only for you to bite his lip once more. You give one more kiss before leaning back just enough that his panting breaths mingled with yours, "Someone seems to be enjoying this~"

He opens his mouth to protest only for his words to morph into a husky groan as you roll your hips against this bulge once again, "W-what're you doing..." The corners of your lips curl up as your hand trails down his body, stopping right before you reach his aching cock, "I'm just having fun..." Your palm rests on his bulge and you squeeze with just enough pressure that draws a hiss from him as his eyes shut tight. "Does your cock need some attention?", you ask with that teasing lilt in your voice that frustrated him to no end. Scaramouche felt so humiliated but so desperate for something he never experienced before, "Please..." You let out a satisfied hum as you kneel down in front of him and tug down his pants. His cock springs forward, twitching with anticipation. You look up at him, catching his lustful and dazed expression.

You wrap your fingers around his length and begin to pump it languidly, running your thumb across his slit to rub the clear pre cum around the head of his cock, "So leaky already, how cute~" Scaramouche's nose scrunches at your teasing, wanting to tell you to shut your mouth, but he can't trust what may come out of his mouth. You stick your tongue out and lick at his slit, letting the salty taste of his arousal fill your senses. HIs hands fly to your head, tangling his fingers in your hair at the overwhelming sensation, "Fuck... Please... More" You look amused as you swirl your tongue around the sensitive head and without warning, you wrap your lips around his length and begin to suck.

The pathetic whimper that comes from Scaramouche is so embarrassing. HIs cheeks burn bright red, trying to comprehend how such a noise came from him. His thoughts are interrupted when you take his full length and swallow, having your throat constrict around his cock made his grip your hair tighter. Your tongue licks the underside of his cock as you move your mouth up to his tip and suck. Another embarrassing moan falls from his lips and begins to thrust his hips forward, desperately wanting to fuck your mouth. His needy behavior amused you, so you allowed him to feel in control for this moment. Scaramouche's thrusts are sloppy as he facefucks you; no longer caring about all the whiny noises he keeps making. You hollow your cheeks whenever it's just the tip between your wet lips, making the sensation absolutely wild for him.

His hips stutter and his cock swells; you know he's about to cum. With this knowledge, you take his length as deep as you can and tighten your throat around him yet again. Scaramouche cries out, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut as he keeps his grip on your head. He empties his load, shooting thick ropes of cum down your throat which forces you to swallow immediately, lest you choke. HIs grip finally relaxes and you pull back off of his cock, coughing slightly and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Scaramouche looks down at you with a glassy-eyed look and one corner of his lips upturned in a lazy smirk, "Too much for you?" You bark out a laugh as you rise to your feet, "I wasn't the one making all those high-pitched noises~" He rolls his eyes, slumping back against the wall, "Whatever. I bet you make those noises too." You give a sly smile, "Only under the right circumstances.." He raises an eyebrow, straightening up, "And what circumstances would those be?" You look him up and down and then smirk, "Guess you'll have to let me bother you later and you might just find out."

Scaramouche's eyes trail you closely as you leave the room. He lets out a breath and tugs his pants back up then threads his fingers through his hair that was now damp with sweat. If he could feel like this every time your insufferable self came to annoy him, maybe he could get used to your little routine. Besides, maybe, just maybe, he could keep you for himself and give into silly delusions of affection that he swore he would never let affect him again.

ੈ𑁍༘⋆ *ੈ𑁍༘⋆ *ੈ𑁍༘⋆ *ੈ𑁍༘⋆ *ੈ𑁍༘

a/n: i finally caved and wrote a fic for scarapookie

[daresplaining]

Matt: "No, no." Milla: "I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. But I-- I just couldn't think of any way to approach you other than this." Matt: "It's just that you are mistaken about my being Daredevil. That story just isn't--" Milla: "I can't stop thinking about what happened the other day. When you saved me from that truck-- it really... I mean, I know you are in situations like that...every day...but I am not. Nothing like that has ever--" Daredevil vol. 2 #43 by Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, Matt Hollingsworth, and Cory Petit

Matt: "Ironically, I'm not Daredevil." Kirsten: "Remarkably, you have a very slippery grasp of the truth for a l-a-w-y-e-r." Matt: "You really think I'm Daredevil." Kirsten: "I really know you're Daredevil. My nephew knows it, and he still believes in Santa. Let's get to why I'm here." Daredevil vol. 3 #1 by Mark Waid, Paolo Rivera, Javier Rodriguez, Joe Rivera, and Joe Caramagna

In any given superhero story where secret identities are a thing, it is always going to be a key factor in the relationship dynamic that the hero has with the other people in their life. For Matt Murdock, who experiences secret identity drama on scales previously unmeasured by science, that secret, and who knows it and who doesn't, quite often has the power to change everything. Whenever someone new enters his life, the arc of their relationship is frequently shaped by when, and how, they find out. Usually, it doesn't go well. In most cases, the big reveal is a shock to the status quo, a hurdle to overcome. Look at what happened when Maya first found out. Or Foggy. Or jeez, Heather.

But Milla and Kirsten exist in a special category all their own: they come into Matt's world already knowing--and not only that, but knowing with such conviction, and with so little interest in having the conversation at all, that even when Matt tries to uphold the lie, they just...ignore him. For Milla, Matt being Daredevil (and not only that, but being Daredevil and blind) is the key reason for her interest. She is thrilled by him. She thinks he's great, he saved her life, and she wants to ask him (him, Daredevil) out on a date. And Matt's first encounter with Kirsten, in the scene above, is due to his Daredevil identity leaking into his professional life: she comes from the D.A.'s office to advise him (him, Daredevil) that he might want to dial back his court appearances, because the fact that he's a suspected superhero is creating disruptions. Later, as their relationship turns romantic, Matt's increasingly halfhearted attempts to convince Kirsten that he's not Daredevil even get integrated into their flirtation.

Matt's Daredevil identity is all tied up in power and agency. It is a form of empowerment that he chose for himself following his father's murder, and one way he exerts and maintains control in his chaotic life is through having a say in who does or does not know his secrets. As Matt says in his perpetually-quotable conversation with Foggy at the end of Daredevil volume 3 #22: "I enjoyed having a big secret. When people make you feel like you're weak and helpless, it's empowering know something they don't", and the times when Matt has lost control of that secret have been nightmare ordeals for him. At the same time, history has shown how dangerous that secret can be to the people around him, especially those who haven't been given the full story about someone they are allowing into their orbit. And that's not to mention the toll on Matt; while secrets are empowering, they are also constraining, and since all the way back in the sixties he has resented his deep-seated need to split his identity into neatly-delineated boxes. Daredevil volume 4 allowed Matt a chance to experience true identity freedom, and he enthusiastically embraced it. In an ideal world, in a world where he didn't feel that need to control and safeguard the closest parts of himself, would he tell all of his friends, all of his prospective partners, anyone he wanted, that he was Daredevil right off the bat? Would it be a relief to avoid that moment of later shock and conflict he invites by keeping such a huge secret ticking like a time bomb? Maybe. (I might point toward his first interactions with Elektra as some evidence for the answer being "yes", at least in certain contexts).

Either way, it's compelling to have Milla and Kirsten as two examples of relationships in which the specter of secret identity angst does not even begin to exist; where the big secret is out on the table right from the start, whether Matt wants it to be or not. When he meets Milla, the circumstances are dire; his secret identity is in a huge amount of danger and he is extra paranoid about it. When Kirsten shows up, the situation is far more relaxed. But in both cases, it is a shift in the typical superhero/civilian power dynamic: Matt holds none of the cards and has to cope with losing that sense of control that's so important to him. At the same time, the guy is a daredevil. He likes being a little bit out-of-control. And it's neat to see him in this kind of a situation, where both sides know the score right from the beginning, and they are able to move forward without the burden of secret identity drama looming somewhere on the horizon.

[cowboyjen68]

Hi!!

I just wanted to ask some advice from one butch to another.

I recently got my dream job of being a warden on a nature reserve (and i love it!), while interacting with people there I get called a young man very often (i am 18 lol) and it gives me euphoria to know im masculine enough to even pass as a man. I've also had some volunteers ask if I was a man or not (despite my feminine name).

But recently I got called a "lady" outside while out with my mother. It drove me INSANE I cried alot.

Don't get me wrong I do identify as a woman but I hate being seen as a lady.

I've even thought about using he/him pronouns recently and changing my name but i'm too scared to as most people won't understand bc im still a lesbian.

Is this strange?

ps love u and ur blog lots xx

This is an easy answer because I was 18 once and looked enough like a teenage boy that I got "hey sport" and "hey young man" all the time, especially when in my work clothes. I worked for The Mayor's Youth Corp in Iowa City in the summers of my 15th and 16th year. Mom and Dad let me get a work permit AND bought me a used Datsun Pickup so I could drive myself the 20 miles there and back each day.

I was a volunteer with the Corp of Engineers youth from 14 to 16 and Dad knew I was super excited about this job. Mom was not thrilled that I wanted to cut my hair but my "grand mullet" was really hot under the hard hat in the summer heat of Iowa. (in the 1980's boys and girls had the short in front long and permed in back look) We compromised and I cut the sides really short. (photo of my me at 16 in my uniform for reference)

Using "he" would never have occurred to me because "EWWW Boys". This is not to say, however, that I hated being mistaken for a boy, on the contrary, it felt good. When someone thought I was a young man it meant they treated me as such. They didn't talk down to me, I knew they assumed I was capable and willing to get dirty. I knew unconsiously that along with the mistaken identity came many perks. This was nothing I analyzed but little girls see very early on the difference in treatment they recieve from their brothers, male cousins and neighborhood boys. This difference leads us to become negotiators to control our circumstances and not entittled to treatment based on our skills and actual personalies.

When an adult recognized me as a boy, even for a second at first glance, I knew I didn't have to prove myself. They, for an instant, assigned to me words like "strong, capable, demanding etc". No negotations required.

When someone realized I was a girl they literally had a change in their face. They smiled at me, softened their voice. When I was called "young lady" or "Miss" it always seemed to be backed my the worst assumptions (in my mind anyway). Lady is steeped in all kinds of traits I didnt want assigned to me. "quiet, weak, likes to dress pretty"OR "motherly, submissive, meek" Nothing good in my teen brain, that is for sure. Lady felt so OLD, so married to a man and reliant on him for survival, so polyster pants and ugly flats and scratchy blouses with a flower imprint. NONE of these things are inherent to being a woman or even socially forced on us but that is not how things work sometimes. Words that describe people get stereotypes and myths and traits attached to them all the time. Woman and girl are no different.

I can tell you, the best feeling in the world when I was in that job was when my supervisor, who damn well knew I was a young woman, trusted me with all the same tasks as the boys. Who valued my opinions and abilities equally to the young men. He took time to teach me what I didn't know, just like with them and didn't assume I couldn't or didn't want to learn things on the job. He didn't shame ANYONE for not being strong enough or for getting tired or needing a break.

Don't let the assumptions of others force you into another box of conformity. You don't need a boys name or to use any pronouns you don't feel connected to just to please others. In fact, none of that effort will change perceptions of those around you. I can promise that one day being called Lady will just be another word that you can hear and know it does not change your personality or your interests or control the hope you have for your future. What does waste a lot of time and energy is trying to adjust things in your life to fit incorrect or snap assumptions about you as a person. You can never control the thoughts of those around you but what you can do is stop worrying about it and enjoy YOU.

You have a job you love and are sure to thrive in. You are solid in your sexuality and love of women, you are in a unique position to possibly change the perceptions of others when they think of "young women". Your interactions with the public are sure to effect the assumpions of at least some people when they think of young women and their roles in our society.

Congratulations on your new career and I bet you rock that uniform.

[bsdawgz]

「 ✦ Selfish ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Port Mafia: Dazai Osamu

a/n: hiiii h i hii! my first fic in god FOUR years??? i have never written for BSD before... but i'm excited to be a part of this community and get back into the ff writing scene and get to know everyone! i hope you will accept me as a part of ur community & that i can learn from everyone *__* onto the fic!

this takes place (s2 spoiler!) after oda's death while dazai is in port before he quits to join the detective agency. reader is female.

genre: angst and da nasty, f!reader

content: dazai is a meanie to you :((( meaningless sex, no aftercare, toxic and unrequited feelings, it's giving emotionally unavailable guy from tinder that you can't help but run to oops?

**minors DNI** cunnilingus & later he's a bit rough with you during sex

why is he so selfish? is it not so selfish to act this way? a girl like you in the port mafia head’s bedroom. shouldn’t you be with some do-gooder? you know dazai isn’t going to be your boyfriend, right? no matter how right you treat him?

he’s not going to say the words, ‘i love you,’ and the warmth you feel in his arms is lost in his eyes. leaning against his desk, dazai absent-mindedly uncloaks his jacket, staring out the apartment window that looks over yokohama. there’s a certain solemnity in his gaze, something that you can never read. these days, dazai feels more and more distant – even more than before.

you approach him from the doorway. gingerly, your fingertips graze his hand, which is idling on some papers on his desk. you touch him, and he doesn’t move, not even an inch, his hand limp and cold against yours. no, don’t touch me, he feels an urge to say. the thought even surprises him, though he understands the impulse. now that odasaku’s gone and died, this body of his suddenly feels dirty. he remembers oda’s words.

don’t touch me, dazai thinks to himself. he aches at your touch. but he relents. sighs into your touch, even.

“dazai, what’s wrong?”

his lips turn down slightly in a frown at your inquiry, eyes clouded over in thought. it’s only a moment. barely noticeable, though your keen eye observes it. then he chirps up, “well well, shall we get to it?” he brushes you aside completely. there it is again, that facade of his that comes so naturally it’s got everyone fooled… almost everyone, anyway. he turns around with that smile on his face. that fake smile of his that’s always bothered you. that smile haunts you.

dazai’s fingers find your waist, his hand settling on the small of your back. now, it’s you who wants to push him away.

he never answers your questions – he just leaves you in the shadow like the others.

“you said you have a treat for me, yes? you know i don’t like to wait for these kind of things~” he hums, looking at you devilishly. “now, how about we get right to it?”

this is always how it goes.

now his breath is hot on your neck, his voice a whisper in your ear. his grip on your hips tighten.

“dazai–” you gasp, suddenly becoming weak for him as he corners you into the desk. why is he so selfish? he thinks to himself again. he knows he’s being selfish. but he can’t help it. your body is warm, and his is so very cold. he wants to steal your warmth and keep it all to himself.

“ah-ha, don’t act so surprised now,” he teases, clicking his tongue against the back of his teeth. “this is what you want, right?” he pulls back again to make sure, a grin on his face. “or am i mistaken?” he’s not wrong – your little rendezvous at his apartment always start and end like this. you can never resist him. you feel your defenses lower. you want his defenses to lower for you, too.

but you know he’s not going to say the words, ‘i love you,’ and the warmth you feel in his arms is lost in those cold, unfeeling eyes.

why are you like this? you’re wondering to yourself. you know you’re being naïve again. why are you just like the others? you can’t stop comparing yourself to them, the countless imaginary women in your head. the thought of them makes you feel so helpless, so angry. when you relent to his touch like this, when you let him hold you like this, it feels so wrong. how many women has daza touched? how many girls has he brought here? did they all feel this way? do their hearts pound like yours? ache like yours?

“dazai…” your voice is weak. your voice is a whisper.

your voice is full of want.

your voice is full of need.

“i like it when you say my name,” he murmurs softly against your earlobe, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, a flippant grin forming on his lips as he brushes your hair to the side. you know just what comes next… and you’re not going to fight it, either.

his fingers travel up your body, then he grasps your neck in his hands. he teases the tender skin with his tongue, languidly licking along the side before finally taking you into his mouth and sucking gently. rougher, but never rough enough to leave a mark. he knows better than to mark you. you’re not his, and he’s not yours.

your head is spinning. your hand immediately goes for his pants, but he pushes you aside. “not yet –” slender fingers grab a hold of your waist and hoist you up to the table. “– face fuck me first.” he says it so casually and deadpan, it catches you off guard and makes your cheeks flush red. then he kneels before you and suddenly smirks up, some playful glint in his eye as he chuckles to himself, leaving you at a complete loss for words. dazai’s always like this, completely unreadable and unpredictable.

large hands travel up your skirt, smoothing the skin of your thighs. his gaze is full of wanton heat, full of lust, as his wandering fingers toy with the garter of your panties before slowly pulling your underwear down your legs. you shiver quietly and look away. “ah, embarrassed, are you?” he quirks his eyebrow, looking up at you deviously. no matter how much you’ve done this, you can’t help but feel flustered every single time. as you avert your gaze once again, he protests with a loud, exaggerated sigh. “uh-uh, eyes on me or i won’t do it at all. you want to watch, don’t you~?”

pulling you closer to him, he presses you to his eager lips. his tongue is warm and wet, and it knows you all too well from nights spent wrapped in his bandaged arms. you gasp at the sudden heat that envelops you, finding your hands suddenly tangled in his soft brown hair. he moans quietly against you, letting you know he enjoys your pleasure just as much, his fingers digging deep into the fat of your thighs. you try not to look but end up peeking at him only to meet his gaze, staring up at you shamelessly as he eats you, his saliva and your arousal smeared across his lips. soon enough, you feel his fingers penetrating you, one finger at first then two and three; he’s preparing you for him. you want him – “please… dazai… dazai…” his name is all you know, a quiet prayer on your lips. this man will be the end of you.

without saying a word, he suddenly grabs you again and tosses you on the bed with a reckless thud. you hear him shuffle through the desk for a condom, then he flips you onto your knees and pushes you into the mattress nonchalantly, like you’re no one at all. he doesn’t bother to take off the rest of your clothes or even his; he just unzips and lifts your skirt again, hands roughly grabbing a hold of your ass, then you feel the tip pressing flush against your entrance. “i’m gonna put it in now,” he says callously, not an ounce of feeling in his voice.

you’re so wet that it takes no time for you to stretch for him. he chuckles from behind you, an empty laugh. “i guess you enjoyed?” he teases, “you’re basically begging for it at this point.

reaching out to stroke your hair, dazai’s touch is gentle and almost loving as he lets the tendrils slip delicately through his fingertips. there it is again, you think to yourself as you feel a pang in your heart. that wretched touch that’s so achingly sweet it confuses you. there’s always that sudden switch up with, fleeting moments where he’s a different person. but it’s only an instance. he presses himself inside of you with a shaky breath, pushing you into the mattress roughly, and you find yourself in reality again. you don’t face each other. instead, you bury your face into the bed as he pulls you against him again and again and again until you forget all about that moment.

it’s better than way, you think to yourself. sometimes looking into his eyes is too confusing.

…

after all’s done, there’s nothing but silence between the two of you. dazai’s at his desk organizing some papers, and you’re sitting on the bed trying to collect yourself as the feeling of shame overtakes you. another night spent in this mysterious man’s bed, knowing you’re in love with someone who you can’t possibly ever have. as usual, you’re the first to break the silence. no point in asking him any more questions, or trying to make conversation. you’ve learned your place. “i should probably go,” you say.

dazai looks up at you for a second, almost disappointed, as though he were expecting you to ask him for more. it’s a rare instance of hesitation that surprises even him. “you can stay if you want,” he says flawlessly, acting it was a normal thing for him to ask you to stay in the middle of the day, for no reason at all. it catches you off guard, but the way that it comes out so naturally has you convincing yourself that the pause meant nothing. after all, what would dazai want with you? dazai is the head of port mafia. you are no one to him.

“didn’t you say there was something you wanted to give me?” he asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

oh, that explains it all.

“oh, that — i, uh... i totally forgot,” you lie through your teeth. he looks almost disappointed, this time visibly frowning. but he perks up in no time.

“ah-ha, you’re so scatterbrained,” he says cheerfully, ruffling your hair. his words are followed by the emptiest laugh.

“next time?”

but dazai’s not there anymore. “right,” he says plainly, but he knows there is no next time. right, he’s being selfish, he thinks to himself. there’s no point in this at all.

you smile as best as you can, then the two of you wave farewell. as you walk down the steps of his apartment, you crumple an envelope in your hands, the reason you came in the first place, to deliver a letter you’d written weeks ago.

dazai:

i can’t see you anymore. it hurts to.

i can’t understand you at all.

i couldn’t tell you face to face because i knew i would cry.

i’m sorry i’m selfish.

you brought your hand to your mouth, suppressing the sob that was about to escape you. in your heart, somehow, you knew you couldn’t stop seeing him. his touch, his hands, his warmth, his scent. the way that he kissed you; the way that he fucked you. that lost look in his eyes. no, you could never leave him - for it’s become all too routine to you now.

what does he dream about? what does he smile about? what does he cry about? why do these things matter so much to you?

with these thoughts in your mind, you let your arms fall limply to your side and tossed the envelope into the garbage as you walked mindlessly from his apartment, the bitter taste of dazai’s tongue still on your lips.

© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @v6que~!

[roturo]

Chishiya x reader where y/n is younger than chishiya and he teases her about it and they eventually fuck sknejrmtkrnf

TELL ME

“It seems like a dream, you’re loving me.”

CHISHIYA X AFAB! READER

Chishiya is 25 / Reader 19

WARNINGS: SMUT. SEMI-PUBLIC SEX. (Kinda enemies to lovers ¿? And fluff at the end)

You’ve been knowing Chishiya for a while now, mostly because both of you were on the same group and most of the time coincide. 

And it’s pretty obvious you have a crush on him.

But it’s not like you could go with him, ask him out, kiss him, and be boyfriend and girlfriend.

Why? Well, it’s simple: first, he’s like really distant with you. He barely talks! You tried to get closer to him, but it’s like he treats you like a little kid. You’re not a little kid! You’re now 19! And that’s already an adult. 

The only small talks both of you have? it’s insulting eachother!

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You said to him. Do I have something on the face?! You touched your face concerned that you might have some food… that’s so embarrassing. What if he’s laughing about you? Oh nonono.

"Sorry, force of habit. Staring at your stupid face, that is." This son of a bitch! Who does he think he is?! 

“Hey! Both of you. Stop fighting.” Kuina said, I don’t know how she’s been so patient to be spending time with both of you .

“He started it!” You exclaimed pointing at him.

“Has anyone ever mistaken you for being in middle school before?"

“What?” Kuina said,” “what does it have to do with-“

“Oh my god. I can’t stand you anymore Chishiya. Good bye.”

When you were leaving you just could hear him laughing and leaving a very confused Kuina. God… why his laugh is so pretty too?

But. As everything in excess becomes a bad thing, this teasing also become something bad.

Maybe it wasn’t teasing anymore? He might hate you. It’s like, he doesn’t even apologize and just ignores you! 

So, you decided to ignore him for a day, maybe you could see if he really cares about you. It made you really sad that the person that you loved in this world treats you this way. 

. -

“No, I don’t like her. She’s too loud and obnoxious and she’s still young to even understand what’s going on here. I don’t even know why did you accept her being in the group.”

Kuina was indeed schoked. She couldn’t believe Chishiya doesn’t like you. Like, yeah.. he’s not the best showing emotions but he’s not a bad person! Maybe he just needs a little push for him to start talking better to you.

“You’ve been an asshole to her. She’s done everything she can to like you! I don’t understand why you’re so mean to her.”

Am I too harsh? Shit. Maybe I should apologize..

“Whatever.”

. -

Now both of you were at the pool. You were having a nice day not until you saw him. He had his typical swim-trucks and his white jacket that showed just right his collar bone. Stop.

Both of you locked eyes, you couldn’t stop yourself from blushing. Even if you’re mad at him  he still made you weak. He gave you a small sign of ‘come here’ by moving his head slightly to the left.

How could you say no to him? He had you wrapped around his finger.

He lead you to a place far away from the pool where both of you could have some privacy, he seemed different. Was he nervous? Why is he playing too much with his hands in his pockets?

“Look… I just wanted to say-“

Before he could even talk more, you asked him “Those things you said yesterday.. do you mean it?”

Okay. He couldn’t do this anymore.

“I didn’t mean it like that… I was trying to.. tease you.” Because I love you.

“No way in hell. Are you blushing right now?!”  You couldn’t believe this, are you making him blush?! 

“Stop it. I’m not blushing. You’re just making things up.” This is too good to be true. He’s really blushing!

“It’s okay Chishiya, some times we get too far away, and I know you don’t mean it, it’s just that we don’t measure what we say. I already talked it with Arisu about this and-“

“Arisu? What did he said to you?” he interrupted you before you could finish your sentence.

“Umm..” 

. -

“No shit. It’s pretty obvious you have a crush on him..” He said looking at the map and the crossed the areas where you guys have played.

“Then what should I do?”

“Fuck him?”

“Arisu!”

. -

“It doesn’t matter what he told me.. Just so you know i’m not mad at you, I preferred having some distance with you since it’s like pretty obvious I annoy you, so I didn’t wanted to be-“

He shut you down by kissing you and grabbing you by the hips, making your bodies get closer and hotter each second passing.

You spent so many nights trying to hide how you feel, now you’re in this fantasy that you thought could never be real. 

And here you are, locking eyes, both with the same feeling and want. 

“You don’t know how much i’ve been waiting to kiss you. Every time you taunt me it only makes me want you more.” He pulls you again closer to him, you could feel how hard he was getting through his shorts. Detaching himself from your lips, he places open mouth kisses and bites across your shoulders. He lingers over the space between your collarbones, breathing in the scent of your skin along with the perfume.

“Please fuck me ‘taro” This still seems like a dream, you’ve waiting for this moment too long now. 

“You are incredibly beautiful.” He kisses down your neck while holding your arms. As he goes lower you kiss him back. He was so entranced by your everything, he didn’t even notice you pulling down his shorts. They pool at his ankles and he kicks them off, never separating from you. His hands drag down your backside to your thighs, motioning for you to turn around. Once you do, he kisses below your ear while taking off your bikini with his hands.

He spreads your legs with his feet, entering his fingers with no warning. As he pushes his fingers deep inside, you let out a yelp and look down. 

“Chis… chishiya I need you inside me” You moaned when his fingers got that specific place that your small fingers couldn’t reach.

You were about to come, and he could feel that when you’re clenching too hard into his fingers, so in one swift motion he enters inside you and both of you moaned at the feeling. Chishiya snakes his hand over your neck, using his fingers to tilt your head back up. 

The way his brows furrowed as he looked down to where he disappeared inside of you, the flex of his abdomen as he moved his hips, the sweat starting to surface all over his body, all of it made your body heat up.

A particularly rough stroke makes your knees buckle. Chishiya doesn’t let you fall. Instead, he uses his strength to keep you up. Both of you were not too far away from The Pool (but at a private space) but you couldn’t care less if they heard you moan. 

Each thrust makes you take in a breath, your moans and requests come out in stutters. Despite your state, he doesn’t slow down, keeping his fast pace to bring you both to the edge. 

As much as he wants you to come together, the way your walls keep squeezing him makes him want to release right then and there. He can feel your walls flutter, and the way your hips are lifting, trying to separate yourself from him; he knows you’re starting to come.

Both of you came at the same time with one specific thrust that made you see stars. 

He pulls out and helps you getting dressed again and try to seem the most presentable both of you can. You turn around to look him at the eyes. He looks so beautiful right now. His eyes are full of love. He wished you could see yourself like how he sees you. Because you’re perfect for him.

“Chishiya… please tell me, do I like you?”

“You’re the one for me, now and always. I’ll do whatever I can to see you again in the real world. I don’t like you. I want you. I love you.”

. -

“So you indeed fucked!” Arisu said, Kuina bursting out laughing.

Thank god the three of you were at his room because if Chishiya could see how red you are right now, he wouldn’t stop teasing you about it.