#...and i found that i wasn't satisfied with myself and i wanted a distraction from knowing i am alive and real...

[uncanny-tranny]

I always think it's funny that a terrible life is one where "you're alone with no lover and you will only have the company of cats to keep you scarcely tethered to the real world.

Like... don't threaten me with a good time. That is a dream to me

[primus-why]

What if TFP Megatron hadn't fumbled the bag during the Orion Pax arc...?

Like, imagine we get that scene where Orion is all "Why does this computer refer to me as Optimus Prime? Who... am I?" And instead of Megs being all "Grr, you're just my clerk, nothing more." He was... actually sort of honest?

Like obviously not 100% honest, let's be real here he's got his own agenda. But I'll bet Orion wouldn't have tried to delete his data if he had gotten an actually satisfying answer!!

For example what if it had been like:

Orion: I must know-- who... am I?

Megatron: ... *sigh* I'm not so sure I know the answer myself, Orion. This situation... it's complicated.

Orion: Then perhaps you might help me regain the memories I have lost? You explained what became of Cybertron, but I have yet to learn what has happened to me--

Megatron: -- It would have been too much! So many years lost, so much change to take in... I didn't want to overwhelm you!

Orion: I know, and I appreciate your consideration... however, these questions have been distracting me from my work...

Megatron: ... Very well. Come.

They settle down on some nook with a window. Orion's optics are glued to Megatron, while Megatron looks out said window for a beat before turning to face Orion.

Megatron: What do you remember, before I found you in those tunnels and brought you onto my ship?

Orion: I... *shifting uncomfortably* it's difficult to recall, but I believe my last memory was of us... fighting.

Megatron: Fighting?

Privately, Megatron is concerned Orion might be recalling a battle. He watches the other mech closely for his next words-- is the jig up already..?

Orion: Yes... we were arguing after the Council meeting, though I can't recall what for...

Megatron visibly relaxes a bit.

Megatron: Ah... that. Yes, I remember that day.

Orion: I had miscalculated, and my error upset you. We parted on bad terms.

Megatron: Oh, my dear Orion, that's long in the past! I hardly think back to our quarrel...

Megatron gently takes Orion's servo into his own, idly rubbing a thumb over his digits as if lost in a memory.

Megatron: Actually... your absence gave me clarity-- once I learned you were gone, I immediately realized that I missed you... regardless of what had transpired. And it hurt my spark to know we would never see each other again-- though, that turned out to not exactly be the case...

Orion is staring intensely now. He is afraid of the answer, but knows he must press on.

Orion: Megatron... what happened to me?

Megatron: After that Council meeting... you were taken.

Orion: Taken? By who??

Megatron stops rubbing Orion's servo, squeezing it instead.

Megatron: ... The Autobots, but I didn't know it at the time. I was informed you hadn't reported for work in a while. For a deca-cycle, in fact, which didn't seem like you. I tried to com, but was having no luck-- then Intel couldn't find evidence that you had even made it home after the meeting. Upon further investigation, we learned you were snatched off the street some time after we had parted ways. I knew then something bad had happened to you, but I didn't know who was responsible. Not until I saw you again... only it wasn't you--

Orion Pax: -- It was Optimus Prime.

Megatron: Yes.

Orion Pax: But... how? How could I be a Prime? I'm just an archivist-- was just an archivist... and why me?

Megatron: I'm sure you've noticed the change in your chassis. Well... we believe the Autobot warlord Ratchet used his vast medical knowledge to perform experiments on you, which allowed your body to carry the Matrix. As to why he chose you... I'm certain it was to derail our revolution efforts. It had been personal blow, seeing you change sides...

Orion: How could I abandon the cause? Did I not recognize you anymore?

Megatron: You recognized me, but you did not know me. When the Autobots declared war, Optimus Prime would charge in, always on the front line. I was one of the few fighters who could hold my own against him, and by far the best chance we had to get you to come back to your senses... but I could never reach you.

Orion removes his servo from Megatron's, instead balling it into a fist on his leg. He looks away as well to take in a steadying vent, then another... when he finds his voice again, it is soft-- but he needs to know...

Orion: ... Was it mnemosurgery?

Megatron responds equally as soft.

Megatron: For vorns, I thought that was the case. However we'd didn't find any evidence of it during your medical examination.

Orion's optics snap back to Megatron's.

Orion: Then how?! I--

Megatron: -- It seems your memory loss had something to do with the Matrix. We could test that theory, of course, but nothing would move forward without your consent, Orion. You understand?

Orion: Yes, thank you. I will consider it. And thank you again for taking the time to enlighten me. I am... sorry to have caused you all so much pain...

Megatron: Don't dwell on the darkness of the past when tomorrow promises a brighter future, my friend.

Orion: Mm... how can you be so sure? We are far from home, and the war rages on.

Megatron: Because I was able to finally reunite with someone I had thought to be lost forever. Anything seems possible to me now, even victory after all this time.

Orion blushes slightly as Megatron gets up to leave.

Megatron: I must go attend to my duties on the bridge. Would you like to join me for fuel in my quarters? Say, in the next few groons?

Orion: I would like that, very much.

As he watches Megatron depart, Orion privately wonders just what "victory" would look like, given their home has been destroyed. To what end do we fight? Perhaps I shall ask Megatron to elaborate on his vision of the future after our shifts...

[plentyoffandoms]

Orange (Part 2)

wearer is willing to kiss

Gwi-nam x f/Reader

Main Masterlist ♡ All Of Us Are Dead Masterlist ♡ Yoon Gwi-Nam Masterlist ♡ Jelly Bracelets Masterlist

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Am I late to this fandom? Oh hell, yes, but the show was so good.

Warnings: Some swearing. Nothing sexual yet

WC:1126

Gifs & photos do not belong to me. 1st & 3rd @dramastream 2nd gif @soledadytorturainfinita

YN'S POV

The moment I stepped into the classroom, I muttered some lame excuse to the teacher about why I was late,

Jang-Mi looked at me, with her eyebrow raised. I just shrugged my shoulders at her, now trying to pay attention to the first twenty minutes of class that I missed.

But what happened outside kept me distracted. Gwi-nam pretty much demanding I wear the bracelets.

I could feel them under my jumper, burning a hole in my skin. When the teacher had her back to me, I quickly took them off.

I placed them in my pocket, still wanting them close by. 'You should throw them away.' I thought to myself, but I knew deep down inside I didn't want to. I wanted, no needed to see how far this would go with him.

Would he get bored after snapping a few? Most likely. One thing I noticed with Gwi-nam was that he never finished anything. He would hyper-fixate on one thing and then quickly get bored of it.

Yes, I will see how far this goes.

~

"Why were you so late this morning?" Jang-Mi asked me as we walked towards our next lessons. We didn't have this one together.

"I slept through my alarm & figured if I was already late, there was no need to rush." I wanted to tell her what happened with Gwi-nam, but she would just tell Sun-Hee and I was in no mood to deal with either of their questions today.

"I also saw that you took off your bracelets today." She pointed out as stopped at my classroom first.

"I thought that Ms. Park saw them, so I didn't want any more demerit points taken off just in case she wanted to see my arm." That seemed to satisfy Jang-Mi for now.

I took my seat in the second row near the back of the class and got my notebook out, already taking the notes that were on the board.

I ignored the commotion that was around me. My classmates saying goodbye to their friends, acting like they will never see them again. One girl was crying in the corner with her friends around her.

This isn't the first time I have seen that happen in this school. For some reason, the guys seem to have a hold over the females here. I get that many of them are cute, but to cry in public over one? No, thank you.

I was so lost in writing out what was on the board that I didn't even see who sat behind me, but the moment I heard my name, I quickly turned in my chair to look into the eyes of Gwi-nam.

He usually sat on the opposite side of the room. "I told you to wear the bracelets."

"Now who has poor manners?" My eyes went wide when I heard myself say that.

A smirk came over his face as his own eyes scanned my face. I noticed that as his gaze went further down, his eyes stayed on my chest for a few moments, and then he focused his attention on my face.

"Hello, YN. Now answer my question."

I wanted to tell him to fuck off. That I didn't answer to him, but I found myself telling the same lie I told Jang-Mi.

I could tell by the look on his face that he didn't believe me, but he didn't say anything. "Put them back on. I want to see which one to snap next."

I looked around to make sure the teacher wasn't in the room and put the remaining fifteen back on and placed my arm across his desk.

He looked over the colours and was just about to open his mouth when the teacher walked in. I covered my arm and turned around, ready to get this lesson over with.

~

I was bored. So very bored as our teacher droned on and on. I became lost in my own thoughts again, trying to entertain myself, so I didn't die from boredom, that I didn't hear the movement behind me, but I sure as hell felt his breath next to my ear.

"Orange."

I knew what he meant. When snapped, the wearer is willing to kiss.

Now, I just have to wait for him to snap it, and that could be today or tomorrow.

~

I practically ran from the classroom to get to lunch. I was starving. I missed breakfast because I slept through my alarm.

I placed my books in my locker and went to close it when it was slammed closed.

That could only be one person.

Gwi-nam's POV:

I watched as YN ran from the room. Didn't even bother to look back at me. I knew where she was headed, her locker, before she goes and meets her friends for lunch.

She was putting her books from her morning classes away in such a rush that had me confused. Usually, she is very organised, but not at this very moment.

I stood behind her just as she was about to close her locker when I slammed it closed.

"Gwi-nam, I am very hungry. Can this wait until after lunch?" She said as she turned around to look at me. I leaned down so only she could hear what I was saying.

"Arm." YN sighed and held up her arm. I pulled the sleeves of her jumper down and found the orange one. She didn't look away as I snapped the orange one and pocketed it just like I did the yellow one.

"A kiss is all I ask for." I tapped my cheek, indicating that is where I wanted the kiss. I leaned in even closer, my arms on either side of YN as I waited for her to kiss my cheek.

But she was close enough, I turned my head at the last moment, and our lips connected. I gripped the back of her head as she tried to pull away. Her struggling made me want to say fuck this little game and take her to empty room and fuck her.

But she did something that not only surprised me but also had me wanting more. YN stopped struggling and moaned into the kiss.

This one simple kiss that left us both breathless as we pulled away from one another. I took a step back and cupped her chin in my hand and squeezed.

"You better make sure I don't catch you without them." I left the threat hanging in the air as I turned my back to her and walked away.

She is probably wondering why she responded the way she did, but at this point, I have her exactly where I want her.

Yellow (Part 1) ♧ Glittery Yellow (Part 3)

[marthawrites]

Beneath the Prince Regent

Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 2.6k+

Can be read as a one shot, but reads best as part 2 to Midnight Passage

About: After your little disturbance in the Prince Regent's study, Aemond finally comes to bed.

Includes: Explicit sexual content! (the holy trinity of fingering, pussy eating, and p in v, with the continued theme of finger sucking)

Note: Hello lovely reader! No one asked for a part two to this, but you're getting it anyway because I'm self-indulgent and wanted to do it for myself. As always, please enjoy! ♥

-

You looked so pretty sleeping in Aemond's bed he almost felt bad for waking you up. 

Almost.

Passed was the hour of the owl – when you'd disrupted him with your neediness and he released his spend on your face and chest – and the hour of the wolf wasn't quite here yet. It was a quiet space between. Dark. Eerie. The halls of the Red Keep were nearly hollowed of guards, for there were only a skeleton crew of them at this time of night.

The edge of Aemond's bed dipped slightly beneath his weight as he sat beside your sleeping form. With an affectionate tilt of his head he ghosted the backs of his fingers across your hairline, cheek, down your neck, and over the slope of your shoulder. How pretty you looked, truly, like a doll. From your shoulder he grazed down your arm until he reached your hand. There, he lifted it to lightly kiss the top. Low embers from his hearth barely illuminated the amused suspicion of his eye. Repeating the motion with your other hand, the prince regent found himself smiling all to himself.

There wasn't a trace of your arousal on either of your hands. Upon your departure he said he would know if you touched yourself; he wholly meant it.

You were always so good for him. His good, sweet girl. So pathetically patient for his praise and reward that you didn't give in to the beast of your arousal tonight, even as it thrashed and roared and snapped its hungry jaws.

No. Not you. Not his good girl.

Laying your arm gently where it previously rested, Aemond pushed the blanket off your body and reveled in the sight of it only covered by his yesterday's shirt. Your thighs looked impossibly soft below the hem; warm and inviting. He pushed one palm up them, the pressure slow and steady, until his fingertips brushed the top of your smallclothes. He bent his head to kiss your jaw. Your neck. That little spot behind your ear. 

Finally, you stirred. 

"Wake up byka kēlītsos little kitten," he whispered in your ear, his breath tickling the sensitive reflex there.

You hummed sleepily as your eyes fluttered open. "Aemond? You're finally here." Sleep clung heavy to your voice. "Unless I'm still dreaming…," you added with a satisfied sigh.

"I assure you I'm quite real," he replied with quiet mischief. "As is the hunger you woke in me earlier. I sat debating if you're an elaborate spy to distract me from my duties for longer than I care to admit." Fingertips slowly eased passed the ribbons of your smallclothe's waistband, tugging them loose.

Any other time you might have blushed with his words. Now, still groggy with slumber and his touch at your hips, you giggled softly and bit into your bottom lip. "I listened," you admitted, a shudder of excitement building up the back of your legs to the top of your spine. "Being under your blankets wasn't enough. I had to find your shirt, too."

"I know, sweet girl," he cooed, placing his free hand above your head for support; you were beneath him, caged by him, enveloped by him. His eye dragged up to your eyes from your mouth, his own curling with a proud smirk. "You did so well for me. How will I ever be able to scheme in my study without thinking of you kneeling like that?" The question edged with condescendence as his chiseled features oozed with silent taunts. 

Desire blazed to life with his attention. The ache of your needy core had finally relaxed, and now it returned with a vengeance as he slid your undergarment down the lines of your legs. "Please don't tease me. I can't handle it," you nearly stammered as another shudder ran up and down your spine. Goosebumps pebbled your skin. If he accused you of spying and witchcraft, he was the highest of sorcerers to put you under his spell of lust.

A soft hum came from his thoughtfully pressed lips, head tilting once again. The ends of his hair brushed over your neck and cheeks. "I don't think I will," he said before meeting your mouth in a kiss. "Do you want my fingers?" He asked against your lips, eye cast down to find yours barely open. The pads of his fingers brushed over your mound, testing you, teasing you, circling upwards until he reached your clit. 

If you could hear it you knew he could hear it. The lazy circles of his touch were echoed by tiny wet sounds from your cunt. You were already soaked. A hot blush burned your cheeks as your body craved him. "Yes."

"Spread your legs," he said, surprising you by removing his hand from your center and up to your mouth. "And open your mouth," he added, features glaring with a smirk.

You obeyed, gasping, hips immediately arching up to the memory of his touch.

One by one he pushed his fingers into your mouth. "Be a good girl and get them all slobbery, hm?" He pressed down on your tongue and twirled around the little muscle, coaxing saliva to collect around him. "There…"

One finger, easy. Two? Not bad. Three? A challenge, especially when he flexed and splayed them apart in the small confides of your maw. You gagged. It was when he pushed his pinky inside that you felt another gush of wetness collect in your exposed center. You pulled your shirt above your breasts and immediately squeezed over them: the need to be touched too great as your hips squirmed for any sort of friction. The soft mounds were marked by his bruises from this morning. 

His hand left your mouth and went right to your slickened folds. Middle finger sunk effortlessly into your saturated walls, the length of his digit lazily swirling around in you. A soft growl rumbled in his tightened throat. "I don't think you could be any wetter," he said huskily, voice graveling over your senses in the best ways. "Been thinking about this since you left," he added as his index finger joined his middle in your heat.

A broken moan escaped your throat. Your eyes unfocused, lids fluttering, body wrapping around his digits. You started to mumble something up at him until his thumb circled your clit. He grazed over it and replaced whatever you were going to say with a sweet moan that jolted right to his cock. Those sounds only increased as he began to pump in and out of you. Squelches were all the more obvious in his quiet room. "F-uck..! Yes! Please don't stop…"

Unable to resist the way your tits bounced in sync with his movements, he dipped his head to catch your nipple and sucked at the pebbled flesh. He hummed around his mouthful. He released it only to repeat it to your other, fingers and thumb never easing with their lovely assault.

You arched your breasts up into him, gasping at the new waves of sensation tingling beneath your skin. He kissed, licked, and sucked over your chest, fingers curling up inside you in tandem. "Fuck!" You panted, warmth and tightness knotting in the low muscles of your belly. "I'm close! Please keep going… feels so good…," you whined, desperate.

"Give your pleasure to me. I want it, byka kēlītsos. I need it. Soak my fingers. Soak these fucking fingers." His voice was soft, hushed, raspy with his own need. He slipped a third in.

You came undone beneath him. Orgasm rushed through your muscles and flooded your blood with the utmost pleasure. You squirmed, grounding yourself to the moment by gripping onto whatever part of him you could reach. The bliss was so high, and your mind so momentarily clouded, that you didn't even realize he slid down the bed until you felt him. "A-Aemond..!" You cried, hands flying down to his head between your thighs.

His tongue dragged up, and over, and across your clit, kissing and sucking at your pearl while his fingers remained inside you. "I love when you're swollen here like this," he panted up at you, his eye black with desire. He lost the eyepatch on the way down and his sapphire glimmered up at you. Handsome mouth wrapped around your little bud again and he pumped in and out of your cunt with a renewed pace.

With him lavishing you so soon after your peak, your body was deliciously sensitive and he was perfectly relentless with his pleasure. Your hands in his hair didn't deter him. Your fingernails on his scalp and his ears didn't make him flinch away. If anything it all seemed to spur him on even more. Even as you rolled, squirmed, and twitched under him, his pressure or pace never wavered. Greed for your bliss clouded his mind. The combined sounds of your approaching peak, along with his lapping, sucking, and contented sighs, made for an obscene symphony of carnal delights.

"You're close," he groaned up at you, free hand palming and squeezing over your breasts. "Gonna soak my chin like you did my fingers?" He asked, eye glinting.

"Mhm," you mumbled as he went back to your pearl, tongue gentle on the sensitive little thing. He pinched and tugged at your nipples and it was the sweet edge of pain that pushed you over for a second time. Your thighs replaced your hands at the sides of his head. You barely covered your mouth in time to muffle your cries of pleasure; you had to be quiet in Aemond's room. Warmth, and tingles, and lightheadedness rushed over you as you melted into his mattress.

He allowed your body to relax before slipping his fingers free, standing up. "One day I will allow an artist to watch you reach peak so they might be able to recreate your likeness. You're so lovely like this. Blushed, and sprawled out, and pleasure drunk," he said adoringly as he undressed.

"You'd let another man watch you fuck me?" You asked dreamily, the sweat atop your skin cooling. 

He laughed. "No. It'd be a woman. No other man is to ever see you like this." There was no humor behind his laugh or words. It might have sent a coil of darkness around another woman's gut, but not yours. You liked it.

A smile flashed across your face before you sat up to finally take your shirt off. You leaned back on your elbows. Looking up at him you tipped your head to the side, biting your lip. "Come here, my prince. Let me wrap my legs around your waist." Your legs bent up at the knees to playfully flash him where you wanted him to be. 

With a smirk, and as smooth as water, he crawled across the bed to you, cock bobbing. His lean hips fit easily between your thighs. You both groaned as he pressed the exposed tip of his cock against you. He teased your still sensitive bud – grinning despite his loosened jaw – before sliding himself lower to your eager opening. 

The resistance of your body made both of you shudder. He sunk into you further and further – your toes instantly curling – until the solid length of him was wholly engulfed by your saturated walls. No matter how many times he took you, the first push and stretch of him never failed to take your breath away. "Oh Gods, Aemond…," you drawled, head tipping backward.

"So fucking wet for me. Wetter than even this morning. How is that? Such a needy little cunt," he mocked, pushing his weight into you so his cockhead sent a bolt webbing throughout your senses. "How desperate you'd be without me…," he groaned, pulling out to snap back into you. "Only able to be satisfied by your prince's cock." He set a pace, now, the hair on the topside of his thighs rough against the smooth underside of your own.

"Yes! Just like that..!" You moaned, barely able to keep your eyes opened to meet his. Your ankles crossed behind his back and the heels of your feet dug into the firm curve of his ass. The flex of your legs wasn't tight enough to keep him from thrusting how he liked, but was enough to keep him close and there where you wanted him.

"You're going to have to be quieter. Can't have guards coming to see what the matter is, hm?" He asked in a hot whisper, a gutteral sound building in his throat at just how tight, wet, and fucking perfect you felt. "So loud. Filthy girl." He drove into you harder, skin slapping lewdly together. 

Your moans and cries of pleasure were beyond your control, then, body on the brink of yet another climax. You began to flex and contract around him. 

He grabbed your discarded shirt and balled it up, stuffing it over and into your mouth. Your eyes widened above it. He smirked once more. "If you can't be quiet then I'll make you be. Gonna soak my cock this time, byka kēlītsos?" He fucked you at a different angle, now, one hand keeping the shirt over your mouth while the other squeezed firmly at your bouncing tits.

You nodded, and whatever you had to say was muffled behind the cloth. It didn't matter; it would've been unintelligible as your third and final orgasm of the night washed over you. You crumbled beneath him, eyes rolling closed, as your thighs squeezed roughly around his middle. Your walls convulsed around him and the sound that ripped from his throat was enough to make you whimper under his hand. 

With a deep rolling groan and praise of your name, climax overtook the prince. Pleasure slackened his sharp jaw; pale brows melted in a way only sex could grant. His hips shuddered, cock twitching, as he stilled inside you. His breath was heavy as his hand eased from the lower half of your face. Finally, you were able to get a true lungful of air. Sweat glistened on both your bodies. He rarely looked more handsome than he did right now; spent, sated, and panting. 

You could lay with him like this forever. You were sure your expression said it, too, with how you gazed reverently up at him; face blushed, skin sheened, chest rising and falling.

"Mmm… you make me feel so good, byka kēlītsos." He eased out from your center and from between your legs. Grabbing his shirt he walked across the room where a basin of water sat atop a table near the fire. He dipped a portion of it and came back to you, offering the wet cloth.

"Thank you," you sighed contentedly. Despite him being in front of you, the image of him walking there and back, naked with his hair free and loose, played over and over until it branded on your memory.

"There's a couple hours left before dawn. Sleep with me. I want to hold you for awhile." His voice was thick with exhaustion. It'd been a long day and he'd spent himself multiple times since waking with you this morning. He laid on his back beneath the blankets, inviting you in.

After cleaning yourself, you replied, "happily, my prince. Sleep well." Smiling, you laid upon your side, head on his chest and legs tangled with his, with an arm draped over his abdomen. 

The last thing you remembered was his arm scooping around your back and his soft mouth kissing the top of your head.

-

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider a follow and reblog as I have plans to create and share more writings ♥

here is my masterlist

taglist: @melsunshine  @iiamthehybrid  @arcielee  @nina2697 @darylandbethfanforever9 @sahvlren @targaryenbrainrot @obsidian-hearts @bellaisasleep @watercolorskyy @ruby-dragon @aemonds-fire @meggiemay82 @doublesparrows @welcometothelioncage @its-actually-minicika

[flowerprincesscherryblossom]

needy

pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female Reader word count: 1294 warnings: fluff, established relationship, smut, dom tae, brat reader, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, explicit language, dirty talk, teasing, rough sex, nipple play AO3 A/N: request - Ohhhh can I request tae imagine where we break the bed during sex, with a bit of humor if you may add some please 😍💜 Thank you so much 💜 Hope you like it and that you have a wonderful day wherever you are💜

In insight, maybe you should've seen this coming…

For once your boyfriend's schedule was free, and of course, you decided to spend the day with him because even if you fully understood his busy life that didn't help the fact that you missed him oh so much when he wasn't around…

You also missed those private times when he would fuck you into the bed after being away from each other for too long but that's beside the point - even if you did become a horny mess that couldn't keep your hands to yourself once you found out he had the day-off.

And hey, when you have a boyfriend that looks like Kim Taehyung what person can resist?

That's why you practically ran to him once you found out the good news.

You just want to spend time with boyfriend - Is that too much to ask?

But of course, both God and Taehyung seemed to have other ideas.

Once you got there the only thing that greeted you kindly was the imaginary bucket of cold water that fell on you when you found your boyfriend too busy playing video games to even care that you showed up.

Right then and there you knew that it would be near impossible to pull his attention away from it but you were willing to try anyway.

And God knows you tried…

Acting small and cute while asking for kisses? Stealing one of his shirts and walk by him wear just it and your panties? Hugging him from behind and spreading kisses all the way to his collarbones? Biting his earlobe? Sitting on his lap and wiggling your butt?

You tried them all and none had worked - maybe you were being a bit selfish after all the boys didn't have much free time to begin with and they had every right to spend it the way they wanted, but you were a horny woman with needs!

You went to his room defeated, laying on the bed with arms crossed and a pout on your lips.

You don't know how much time had passed when you felt arms wrap around your waist and pulling you closer to a chest as lips left kisses and marks on your neck…

Well too bad, you were still annoyed that he ignored you in the favor of games, even if you had to bite your bottom lip so that no noises would escape you.

"Oh? First you were begging for my attention and now you ignore me?" his hands going under the shirt and cupping your chest, fondling one breast with his right and pitching a nipple with his left. His hips grinding against you, letting you feel how hard he was.

Taehyung just wanted to hear you but you weren't letting up anytime soon, in fact, you were biting your lip hard enough to draw blood.

It was honestly annoying him.

Removing his hands he pushed you onto your back, gripping your chin tightly and forcing you to look at him.

"How long do you think you can ignore me?"

As you continued to refuse to speak he decided to change tactics - his free hand descending towards your center and rubbing you through your panties, a whimper escaping you.

You were already so wet for him and he was getting started.

"I was just there enjoying myself but you had to distract me." he pulled your ruined panties to the side and insert two fingers, making you gasp at the intrusion.

As his fingers slid in and out of you long gone was your need to keep quiet as he pulled moan after moan from your lips. But he still wasn't satisfied.

Taehyung inserted a third finger and rubbed your swollen clit with his thumb, his movements increasing in speed. "Couldn't get my head in the game, just kept thinking of you - so desperate for my cock, doing everything just to get it inside you like the cockslut that you are." he palmed himself as he curled his fingers against your sweet spot, making you arch your back.

You were so close you could almost taste it, but right before you reached the edge he removed his fingers from inside of you.

Removing his clothes he chuckled at your reaction, whining with a pout on your lips. "Don't worry baby, you'll take it - every inch of it - like the good girl that you are." getting rid of his underwear, cock springing up, tip glistening with precum. His eyes never leaving you as he ran a hand up and down his length.

Tae was on top of you in a second, crashing your lips together, tongue delving into your mouth, one hand tightly gripping your waist.

Parting for breath, he spread you out, eyes darkened with lust making you clench around nothing. "Don't you dare cum without my permission, unless you don't wanna be able to for the next two weeks."

TWO WEEKS?! "I-I'll be g-good."

He chuckled at your desperation, pulling your ruined panties to the side and lining himself at your entrance.

He slammed into you at full force, completely filling you that you swore that he hit your cervix, your back arching as a loud moan escaped you.

Pulling out until only his tip remained inside before slamming into you once more. His thrusts rough and fast, snapping his hips against yours with such strength that the headboard slammed against the wall again and again.

Your nails digging into his back, moan after moan pulled out of you so loud you were sure that everybody outside could hear it. Every thrust and groan from bringing you closer to your high.

"How does it feel baby? To let everyone know of much of a slut you are for me?" You could only moan in response, closing your eyes as you lost yourself in the pleasure.

Suddenly both of your bodies jerked forward as the top half of the bed tilted at an odd angle, the screws of the headboard becoming too loose.

"Uh… Tae-"

"I'm not fucking done with you." angling himself just right, hitting the spot that had you seeing stars, making you gasp his name - to which Taehyung chuckled. "I don't need a bed to fuck you."

He resumed his pace, pounding himself into you, continuously hit the spot as you repeatedly screamed his name like a mantra.

You felt him rubbing figures on your clit and bit your bottom lip, trying your best to hold off. "T-Tae… p-please…"

"Hold it!" he stated with a hard slap on your ass. "Good girls wait." squeezing your eyes shut, gripping tightly onto his arms as the need for release kept building.

His thrusts becoming sloppier as your core clenched around him, gripping him like a grapevine. His finger on your clit moving more rapidly. "Cum for me baby. Cum all over my cock. Make a mess out of it."

That was all it took for the knot to break, pleasure filling every part of you as you loudly screamed his name one last time. His fast pace never faltering, slamming against you again and again, until he did it once last time, making you moan as ropes of cum filled you up.

Pulling out his now soft cock Taehyung left to grab a towel to clean you as you laid on the bed, calming out your breathing.

As he cleaned the mess between your thighs Tae spread kisses all over your face, making you giggle at the attention. "Is my girl satisfied?"

You nodded, pressing your lips against his in a slow and gentle kiss. "Sorry for distracting you. You have every right to spend your day-off the way you want."

"Does this mean I can go back to the game?"

[dreamonseems]

King Haaland Part 2

Erling Haaland X Female Reader

Summary: Reader is brought to Norway as a slave, and King Erling buys her.

If you guys have any requests for this series, let me know in the comments or send me a message!

Ok, so I'm using Google translate for the Norwegian language, so if you speak, I'm sorry if it's not the proper way of writing it, lol.

Also, I am so happy you guys have been liking this series! Thanks for all the love, guys!

"Kom, liten en, for å sove,(come little one time to sleep)" King Haaland beckoned, hoisting me over his shoulders. Confusion and panic welled up within me, causing me to stammer out, "Wha... what?!" Seeking reassurance, I turned to Celine, desperately hoping for some clarity.

"You will be fine. King Haaland is a good man. He won't do anything to you that you don't want. You're just sleeping in the same bed, that is all," Celine assured me, offering a small, comforting smile.

As King Haaland strode down the hall, carrying me like a sack of flour, my heart raced with a mix of trepidation and a flicker of hope. He kicked open a massive wooden door adorned with intricate carvings and gently placed me on the floor as he closed it behind us.

Taking a moment to survey the room, my eyes wandered over the grandeur it held. A large bed, a wardrobe, and a trunk caught my attention, while weapons adorned the walls alongside cozy animal furs. The juxtaposition of comfort and danger left me unsettled, yet I found myself drawn to the bed, curiosity compelling me to poke at its softness.

"Fortsett å legge deg ned,(go on lay down)" he commanded, breaking my reverie. Startled, I turned to face him. "What? You do remember I do not understand, right?" I blurted out, a surprised squeak escaping my lips. Standing before me, he stood naked, his physique a testament to his strength and the intricate Viking tattoos adorning his powerful frame, are beautiful. Clearing my mind of such distracting thoughts, I quickly regained composure and focused on the immediate issue at hand.

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and I quickly covered my eyes. "Where are your clothes?" I demanded pointing at his clothes, my voice tinged with exasperation.

Confusion clouded his face as he looked down and burst into laughter. "Vi skal sove. Jeg trenger ikke klærne mine, lille,(we are going to sleep I do not need my clothes little one)" he chuckled. I felt my frustration deepen. "I still do not understand," I confessed, my brow furrowing in confusion.

He gestured, making signs for sleeping, pointing at his clothes, and then signaling "no." I deduced that he meant he didn't wear clothes to sleep. But how was I supposed to sleep with him naked?

He sat down on the bed and pulled me towards him, pointing at his hair. It was as if he was instructing me to undo his braids. Tentatively, I climbed onto the bed, positioning myself on my knees. With hesitant fingers, I began to unravel his intricate braids. As I finished, I ran my fingers through his hair, untangling any knots. A satisfied moan escaped his lips, which both surprised and unnerved me.

I swiftly withdrew my hands, realizing the intimacy of the act. In my haste, I lost my balance and began to fall, but Haaland's swift reflexes caught me, preventing my descent. I found myself perched on his lap, his deep gaze fixed upon me.

"Vær forsiktig, lille,(Be careful little one)" he whispered, his eyes holding mine with intensity. At this close proximity, I couldn't help but notice his true handsomeness. He looked young, his features softened, and it occurred to me that perhaps he wasn't much older than I.

Despite this realization, I pulled away from him, retreating under the furs and signaling my desire to sleep. He chuckled and shook his head, retreating to his side of the bed. There were no unwanted advances or intrusive touches. He simply lay down, closed his eyes, and left me to find solace in the comforting darkness.

As I nestled myself beneath the furs, a wave of relief washed over me. In this moment, it seemed that everything would be alright.

The enigmatic King Haaland respected my boundaries, and a glimmer of hope emerged, whispering that perhaps this unexpected journey held more than just fear and uncertainty.

As the morning light illuminated the room, its soft beams dancing upon the walls, I slowly became aware of my surroundings. The weight of the previous night's events still lingered in my mind, intertwining with the present reality. King Haaland, a figure both captivating and mysterious, sat on the edge of the bed, his presence commanding attention.

The room seemed to hold its breath as our eyes met. I felt a flutter of vulnerability, unsure of how to navigate my next move. His gaze, though inscrutable, held a certain tenderness that belied his formidable stature. A blush crept across my cheeks, and I instinctively looked away, momentarily unable to meet his penetrating gaze.

"God morgen, lille,(good morning little one)," he spoke, his voice a deep and melodic rumble. The words, foreign and yet strangely comforting, hung in the air. I gathered my courage and met his gaze once more, searching for any clues to his intentions. There, amidst the enigma of his eyes, I detected a glimmer of kindness, a flicker of understanding. It was a stark contrast to the tales of Viking kings I had grown up hearing—ruthless conquerors with hearts as cold as the winter seas.

"M-Morgen,(Morning)," I stuttered, attempting to speak his language, my voice barely above a whisper. I worried about my pronunciation, fearing that my words would fail to convey my thoughts clearly. However, his slight smile reassured me, as if he understood the meaning behind my imperfect words. It was a gesture of acceptance, a gentle acknowledgment of my efforts to bridge the gap between us.

As the sun ascended higher in the sky, signifying the start of a new day, I found myself seated beside King Haaland, partaking in a morning meal. The feast before us was a display of abundance, with an array of fruits, freshly baked bread, and hearty meats. My stomach churned with a mix of hunger and apprehension, unsure of what this shared meal meant for our newfound relationship.

Haaland ate with a measured grace, his movements fluid and controlled. There was an air of discipline and strength that emanated from him, a testament to the rigorous training he undertook as a Viking king. As he finished his meal, he stood, signaling his departure to engage in his daily training regimen. With a nod to me, he left the room, his figure exuding an aura of power and determination.

Left in the company of Celine, the day unfurled before us like a tapestry waiting to be woven. Together, we embarked on a series of chores and tasks that had become our daily routine. Yet, amidst the mundane tasks, Celine took it upon herself to teach me the intricacies of the language spoken by King Haaland and his people.

Words flowed between us, both foreign and familiar. Celine patiently guided me through the pronunciations, the grammar, and the nuances of the language. With each lesson, I felt a growing connection to this new world, a sense of empowerment as I began to grasp the means of communication in this foreign land. It was as if the words themselves were bridges, spanning the divide between my old life and the one I now found myself in.

Throughout the day, we moved from one chore to another, the sound of laughter occasionally punctuating the otherwise quiet atmosphere. As I swept the floor or tended to the hearth, I absorbed every piece of information Celine imparted, eager to grasp the intricacies of this culture and its language. It was a way for me to find my footing in this unfamiliar realm, to understand the customs and traditions that governed the lives of those who called themselves Vikings.

With each passing moment, I grew more adept at stringing together coherent sentences, my tongue beginning to mimic the inflections and cadences of the language. It was a small victory, a glimmer of progress in a sea of uncertainty. And as the day gave way to evening, I found solace in the fact that, step by step, I was inching closer to understanding the world that now enveloped me.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks transformed into a month, my life within the halls of Haaland's kingdom settled into a rhythm that felt strangely comforting. Each night, I would find myself in the embrace of sleep, sharing the same bed as the grand Viking king. The initial apprehension had dissipated, replaced by a growing sense of familiarity and trust.

Mornings began with the sunlight peeking through the windows, casting gentle rays upon the room. Haaland would rise from his slumber, his presence commanding, and his gaze warm. We would gather for breakfast, sharing meals that were no longer marked by tension or unease. It was during these shared moments that I realized Haaland's true nature, one that defied the expectations often associated with kings.

Throughout the day, my hours were occupied by a myriad of tasks and chores. From tending to the castle gardens to assisting in the kitchen, I immersed myself in the daily workings of the kingdom. Celine remained my steadfast companion, guiding me through the intricacies of the language spoken by the Viking people. Together, we navigated the complexities of grammar and vocabulary, piece by piece unraveling the secrets of their linguistic world.

However, it was during one of our conversations that Haaland revealed a surprising truth. His eyes twinkled mischievously as he confessed that he understood and spoke my language, albeit to a limited extent. He had learned it in secret during Celine's early days as a slave in his kingdom, he started practicing it more when I was brought here. It was a testament to his intelligence and curiosity, a demonstration of his desire to bridge the gap between us.

As the days turned into nights, Haaland proved himself to be a benevolent ruler, respectful of my boundaries and wishes. He possessed a playful spirit, often engaging in lighthearted banter and jests, effortlessly dispelling any remnants of fear or apprehension that may have lingered. It became clear that beneath the hardened exterior of a Viking king lay a compassionate and understanding soul.

Haaland's linguistic prowess extended beyond my own language. Through his interactions with merchants and travelers from distant lands, he had acquired fragments of various tongues, becoming a polyglot of sorts. This revelation only deepened my admiration for the king, highlighting his thirst for knowledge and his willingness to embrace diversity.

In this dance of languages and cultures, my world expanded. I found solace in the fact that despite our differences, Haaland and I could communicate and connect on a more profound level. The barriers that once seemed insurmountable crumbled, leaving room for understanding and companionship to flourish. Within the halls of the kingdom, I discovered not only a king but a man who defied expectations, captivating me with his intellect, his kindness, and his capacity for growth.

Today, an unfamiliar emptiness greeted me as I awoke in the vast expanse of the bed. It was a stark contrast to the usual routine, where King Haaland would patiently await my awakening, eager to embark on our shared breakfast ritual. Uncertainty gripped my heart as I made my way through the echoing corridors towards the grand feast hall.

As I neared the hall, the clamor of raised voices pierced through the air, causing me to halt in my tracks. Haaland's commanding voice reverberated against the walls, sending shivers down my spine. My instinct was to retreat, to remain hidden and observe from the shadows. With bated breath, I peered around the corner, my eyes widening at the scene unfolding before me.

"Finn den hesten og bring ham til meg!(find that horseshit and bring him to me)" Haaland's words thundered through the hall, his frustration palpable as he directed his words towards Gunnar, Knut, Sven, and Balder—his most trusted warriors. Their determined nods indicated their compliance as they swiftly exited the hall, leaving Haaland seething in his own discontent. In an outburst of rage, he lashed out, his foot connecting with a nearby chair, shattering it into pieces.

My heart skipped a beat as I involuntarily flinched at the sound of destruction. In that moment, Haaland's piercing gaze pierced through my hiding place, his eyes locking onto mine. "Forlat meg!(leave me)," he bellowed, his voice echoing through the hall, the words stinging like a verbal blow. Feeling the weight of his anger directed towards me, I turned on my heels, fleeing from his presence.

Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, my heart heavy with a mixture of confusion, hurt, and disappointment. Haaland's outburst had shattered the delicate equilibrium that had been established between us. The realization that he could unleash such fury upon me left me feeling vulnerable and betrayed. Yet, I refused to let my emotions consume me. With every ounce of strength, I willed myself to be resilient, to hold back the tears that threatened to betray my true emotions.

Steeling myself against the pain, I pressed onward, reminding myself of the strength that resided within. I refused to let this sudden shift in Haaland's demeanor define my worth. With each determined step, I vowed to remain steadfast, even in the face of uncertainty and unspoken questions that lingered in the air. I would find solace within myself and seek understanding in due time.

As I retreated to the solitude of my chambers, I allowed myself a moment to collect my thoughts. The once familiar walls now seemed to close in around me, suffocating me with their oppressive silence. I longed for the comforting presence of Celine, but she was nowhere to be found. It appeared that I was truly alone in this bewildering turn of events.

Resting my trembling hands on the edge of a table, I closed my eyes, attempting to steady my racing heartbeat. Haaland's anger had struck me deeply, leaving me questioning everything I had come to know about him. Was his previous kindness merely a facade? Or was there something more beneath the surface that I failed to comprehend?

As I battled with my inner turmoil, a soft knock on the chamber door startled me. Tentatively, I approached, hesitant to face whoever stood on the other side. Slowly opening the door, I found myself met with Celine's concerned gaze. Her presence brought a flicker of relief amidst the storm raging within me.

"Y/N, I heard what happened. Are you alright?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

I struggled to find my voice, but eventually managed to utter, "I... I don't understand. Why did he... why did he yell at me like that?"

Celine sighed, stepping into the chamber and closing the door behind her. She gently placed a hand on my shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze. "Y/N, you must understand that Haaland's temper is as fierce as his loyalty. He carries the weight of his responsibilities heavily, and at times, it spills over onto those around him. It was not directed at you personally."

Her words provided some solace, but the ache in my heart remained. "But why did he tell me to leave? What did I do to deserve such treatment?"

Celine looked at me sympathetically, her eyes filled with empathy. "I believe Haaland's outburst was driven by frustration and an overwhelming sense of pressure. He didn't mean to hurt you, Y/N. Please remember that."

Tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over the dam I had painstakingly constructed. "I just don't know how to face him now. How can I trust him after this?"

Celine's grip tightened, offering me the strength I desperately sought. "Trust takes time, Y/N. We all have our flaws and moments of weakness. Give him the chance to explain, to make amends. Remember, there was kindness in him before, and there may still be kindness within him yet."

Her words echoed within me, resonating with a flicker of hope that refused to be extinguished. Perhaps this was a test, a hurdle we needed to overcome to forge a deeper connection. With renewed determination, I wiped away my tears and straightened my posture.

Later that night, the room was immersed in darkness, with only a faint glimmer of moonlight filtering through the window. My body lay tense on the bed, entangled in a web of conflicting emotions. The events of the day weighed heavily on my mind, casting a shadow of dread over the chamber.

In the midst of my restless slumber, I sensed his presence before I saw him. Haaland's figure materialized, his silhouette cast against the dimly lit room. He moved with a familiarity that was both unsettling and comforting, his steps echoing through the silence.

My eyes fluttered open, and I pretended to be asleep, hoping to gather my thoughts before confronting him. I felt the mattress yield under his weight as he settled beside me, the faint scent of Mead wafting through the air. His voice, tinged with a mix of regret and vulnerability, broke the stillness.

"Are you awake?" he inquired softly, his voice carrying a hint of apprehension. I remained silent, my heart pounding in my chest, uncertain of how to respond.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath, his frustration evident. The warmth of his arms enveloped me, drawing me closer to him. Anxiety coursed through my veins as I wrestled with my conflicting emotions.

"I am sorry, little one. I did not mean to yell at you. Please forgive me," he implored, his lips pressing gentle kisses against my forehead. His apology hung in the air, laden with a sense of sincerity that tugged at my heartstrings.

"Why?" I found myself asking, my voice barely above a whisper. His admission caught me off guard, my curiosity piqued.

"I have a traitor in my ranks, selling my secrets. The frustration got the best of me," he explained, a mixture of weariness and determination coloring his words.

I let out a frustrated huff, my anger mingling with understanding. "Fine, I understand. Just... don't do it again," I conceded, my tone softening slightly. Despite my lingering annoyance, a sense of empathy welled within me, recognizing the burdens he carried as a king.

He chuckled, his laughter resonating through the darkness. "Yes, little one. I promise," he vowed, his voice laced with sincerity. A shy smile tugged at the corners of my lips, his presence somehow managing to ease the tension that enveloped us.

"Now, go to sleep. You're drunk," I teased, attempting to lighten the mood. His laughter filled the room once more, mingling with the soothing rhythm of his breath.

"Yes, you are quite fiery tonight," he jestingly remarked, yet his hold tightened around me, pulling me closer. As sleep claimed him, I found solace in the safety of his arms, an unexpected warmth radiating through my being.

That night, as slumber claimed us both, I found myself nestled in the king's arms for the first time. Unbeknownst to me, an ember of happiness ignited within my heart, signaling the possibility of a deeper connection. In the midst of uncertainty, a glimmer of hope emerged, weaving together the delicate threads of forgiveness, understanding, and the potential for a future intertwined.

Part 3

[moremousewrites]

Only A Question

Pairing: Astarion (BG3) / fem!Tav (Seldarine Drow)

Word count: 1154

Summary: Astarion and (Seldarine Drow) Tav have a difficult discussion about the Rite of Profane Ascension- or more specifically, not ascending. While Tav is trying to enjoy the simplicities of the world that hasn't been kind to her, Astarion wants to know her plans to secure power. She isn't one to forfeit her independence from the followers of lolth but her bond to Astarion may be the very thing that is her undoing

Note: this is VERY self indulgent. I used Tav as the name but its about my tav so it has her specific lore in it lol. This is a convo i think they'd have!

The Elfsong tavern was especially busy at night. Tav noted this as she ate the roasted meat and vegetables she had ordered at her lover's request. Aside from the murder investigation that was actively taking place in the building (and the threat of planar and now Godly war looming over her)Tav thought this might be what the city was like in a normal life. 

She mused at the idea of normalcy; it seemed like a luxury now.

     Astarion watched his lover eat. He enjoyed seeing the pleasure on her face when she was satisfied with a meal. The smells drifted into his nose and he tried to live vicariously through her, imagining how her rich blood would taste in a few agonizing hours.

“I never asked, have you had the pleasure of visiting the city before?” Astarion asked, overly polite. Tav picked up on the tone but did not confront him, wanting Astarion to speak for himself.

“Yes, it was less than 30 years ago now. I was sent to recruit any solitary drow to join the Seldarine. We had hoped that a divide and conquer approach would be more successful than appealing to masses” She kept her own tone neutral.

Astarion was distracted, his mind occupied. “Were you successful?” he asked absently. 

 “We had mixed results. Drow are scarce in these regions, as we'd hoped. Those we found were desperate for community, though the conditioning of Lolth's teachings were difficult to unlearn” Tav explained, remaining neutral. She looked to him and saw a flash of frustration or perhaps desperation. 

Astarion nodded, finding an opportunity to get at his point “You left the underdark. But you were a noble. Would you ever return to that position?” He kept the same even tone as her though his eyes betrayed him. Something was wrong. 

At this, Tav pushed away her plate. Her appetite was lost.“You're asking if I would abandon the life I've created for myself. Undo the work I have done to fall into the same pattern that took me a lifetime to unlearn for a name I hold no respect for?”

“I'm only asking a question” He responded in a facetious manner but the topic was nothing to make light of. He was unreadable and trying to hide whatever true intentions this line of thinking held. Touching her thigh, Astarion gave an empty gesture of support. As if to say he was there for her.

“Then tell me the answer you want.” The Drow cringed at her hollow voice. It didn't matter, her love wasn't listening. 

“If I don't ascend, what's your plan? We'll have nothing, and I can't protect you if you're not my spawn” Astarion said, flustered- almost manic. He was desperate and wanted her permission to ascend. He inadvertently hurt his romance, though.To her, what they had now did not feel like nothing.

Refusing to react, she rationalized. [When he says ‘nothing’ he means power. He's confusing power with control. He wants control over his life and mine to protect me. He fears my death and his lack of autonomy]. 

“We would go back to the Aevendrow. They'd welcome you if you're with me. We'd be safe under their protection and… I'd do everything in my power to cure your condition. Or I'd cherish my lifetime with you.” She settled on that. It was a boring answer, but a nice thought.

Astarion looked unconvinced 

“Or I'd go back to the underdark, slay my mother and the enemy noble houses. The blood of our enemies would stain the land for as long as we ruled and you would never fear for your safety again.” Tav relinquished; a half-truth. She would do it to stop her lover from ascending. She'd do anything. 

  “You're not being serious” Astarion pouted and pulled away from her, not sure if it would be worse if she were serious.

   “I wish I didn't have to be” She chugged the wine in her cup. It was bitter.“I am offering to rearrange myself entirely so that you might have a chance at satisfaction. I'd be anyone for you” She wiped away a tear that stung her eye, disappointed with herself. 

    Seeing his lover cry elicited a sinking feeling in Astarion. He couldn't recognize it as guilt, it would have crushed him. And worse than that- he still didn't have her permission to ascend. She was offering to change, the same as he was. Why did it feel so wrong when she was presented with the choice? He would have to change her to make her his spawn. Would he be able to do to her what was done to him? Shouldn't he feel honored? He was getting what he wanted.

    His guilt manifested itself into rage. He couldn't even speak and resorted to the tadpole. 

    [How dare you assume what I want. I need you] his voice reverberated across her skull.

 [You're being unfair, demanding I stay the same but insisting that you change] even her inner voice sounded broken.

A surge of psychic energy prods in her skull. His tadpole is demanding she look. She considered resisting, hoping he would just tell her what he feels. The tadpole was unrelenting. He could not speak but he needed her to know. 

Seeing herself from his eyes, she feels his dread. The rage in his throat and beneath that, the guilt in his chest. But underneath everything, she feels his fear. Fear that she will die and he will continue living in the shadows alone. Fear that if he does not ascend, he won't be good enough for her and she'll finally realize what he's known for so long. And fear that even now, he is not strong enough to kill Cazador and truly be free.

     Tav held his hand, tears streamed down her face. Astarion let himself feel guilt.

“After everything, you still don’t understand what you are to me” Tav whispered under her breath. Astarion couldn’t bear to look her in the eye. “I meant it. I would do anything for you. My life isn’t something I’d give up so willingly. But for you,” She squeezed his hand and saw his softened eyes. “You’re worth living for.”

Astarion pouted and wiped the tears off the adventurer's face with her napkin. “I actually do need my teeth to survive, my dear. You make them rot with just how sweet you are” he joked. Tav giggled through her tears. She looked around at how merry things continued to be amidst the devastating conversation. Just another novelty of normalcy it seemed.

“It’s your decision, I can’t take it away from you. Just don’t do it for me, it’s not about me” Tav said. She rubbed her thumb on Astarions hand, reassuringly.

Astarion nodded to her, relishing the feeling of her touch. He couldn’t say it but she was wrong. His decision was about her, and he was decided.

[tiktokitssinoclock]

Weight- Marc Spector

... ʰᵉʸ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ.

No I'm not dead, and no I really wasn't that busy until the semester started up. I fell off the writing wagon a few months ago and still kind of feel that way. Just recently I've been working on some stuff again so I hope I'll get back into the flow of things soon, but I don't want to risk burn out. I won't be posting as often as I used to, but I'll still post sporadically here and there. Hopefully that changes as inspiration comes back to me! :)

SFW// Minors and ageless blogs, DNI // You will be blocked

Summary:

You have a really important day tomorrow, but can't get to sleep for the life of you. Fortunately, Marc has the perfect suggestion.

Word Count:

1.5K

Warnings/Triggers:

None

One of the things you loved about the boys' place was the sounds of the traffic around the building. The soft 'whoosh' of cars as they passed by, the muted squeaks of tires cruising along on wet pavement when it rained, the surprisingly welcome harmony of whiny breaks and car horns when a light turned red. Steven had his complaints about it, and while you could sympathize with him, you yourself never truly minded. It worked almost like a noise machine in the flat, the London hubbub providing a constant hum in the background.

Tonight, however, as you found yourself laying quite awake, you were starting to better understand what he meant. Every time you closed your eyes, trying in vain to get some sleep, the smallest noises from the street were trying their damnedest to get you to open them again.

The hardly audible road rage between two people might as well have been an argument just outside in the hallway. The chirp of a parked car getting locked seemed to echo throughout the room. Hell, even the slamming of a car door was almost enough to make your ears pop.

You let out a quiet sigh as you continued to catch bits and pieces of the ongoing squabble, pinching your eyes shut before opening them once more in defeat. Of all the nights for the sounds of distant traffic to fail you...

Sweat was beading on your brow but you opted to ignore it, the usually inviting cotton sheets feeling much too warm. You tossed over onto your side, your nails digging into the pillow in your grasp as you tried to focus on the sound of Marc's slow, even breaths.

There wasn't much else to distract your gaze from straying, which wasn't helping, either. Like a moth to a flame, you find yourself stealing glances at the laptop perched on Steven's crammed desk. Again and again, however, you forced yourself to stare at the wall beside you. You were playing a game of cat and mouse, it felt like, and the universe was doing everything in its power to work against you.

Your usual white noise was practically blaring. You'd long since kicked the sheets off your body, the material bunched awkwardly at your feet. The sliver of moonlight peeking through the blinds glinted off the laptop's reflective case, only drawing your attention towards it even more.

You found yourself staring at it again before you could help yourself, eyes squinting in annoyance as you chewed the inside of your cheek.

A few more minutes wouldn't hurt.

As you slowly began to sit up, knuckling the sleep out of your eyes, your mind was already racing with things to do.

I haven't got the numbers from quarter two completely memorized yet, and it wouldn't look good if I have to keep referencing that slide during the meeting. And honestly, I don't know what I was thinking adding all those slide transitions. I'll have to edit them out. Maybe I'll pack a quick lunch for myself, too, that way I can just eat at my desk instead of having to pop over to the cafeteria. Yeah, that'll give me more time to finalize everything.

Your legs swung over the side of the bed as you lazily rolled your shoulders, a few satisfying 'pop's greeting you.

I could probably iron out my outfit, as well. I'll never hear the end of it from Jen if there's a wrinkle in my top when I'm presenting. God forbid clothing does what clothes are known to do-

Before you had the opportunity to stand up, however, you felt the weight of the mattress suddenly shift. A pair of arms wrapped around your waist, lips warm with sleep meeting the back of your neck.

"Where're you going?" Marc mumbled against your skin, his voice sleep logged.

You refrained from leaning back into his touch, fingers lightly circling around Marc's wrists.

"Bathroom," you offered, shooting him a reassuring smile over your shoulder.

When he was barely awake, Marc seemed much... softer than usual. His hair was lightly tussled, bits and piecing sticking out in various directions. The usual bags under his eyes didn't seem so pronounced, the gleam in his gaze ever present. You could stare at him for hours, it felt like. The only things tarnishing the view, however, were how his eyebrows began pulling together and the way his lips were pressed in a thin line. Despite just waking up, he was onto what you were up to in an instance.

"I'll only be up a few minutes."

"No you won't."

You could only look at him for a moment before finally speaking again.

"Don't be silly," you said, gently pulling yourself out of his grasp.

"Honestly Marc, I'll be back. You need the sleep and- hey!"

Marc ignored your protests, pulling you in until your back was pressed against his chest and he could lazily throw his leg over both of yours. His cheek pressed itself against the back of your shoulder, each of his soft exhales fanning across your neck. You ignored the goosebumps his breath left in its wake, the frown on your face deepening.

"Marc."

"Hmm?"

"Please let me go."

"So you can agonize over your keyboard until the sun comes up? Why would I do that?"

"Because I'm stressing out- and rightfully so. There are so many ways I could be productive right now and instead I'm just... I'm laying here."

You sucked in a deep breath.

"I'm not getting to sleep at this rate. I might as well make something of my time."

"That's a horrible idea," Marc replied bluntly, his voice still tired.

"How so?"

"Because-"

Marc interrupted himself with a groan as he gave a stretch, nonchalantly readjusting his position.

"You're gonna tell yourself 'Oh, I'll just review this and I'll be done', right? Then that'll turn into 'I'll rearrange some things real quick' or 'I should make a better version of this table' or whatever else you think up."

You couldn't see his face, but you could practically feel one of his eyebrows arch.

"Am I wrong?"

Too stubborn to confirm or deny his train of thought, even though he was very much correct, you only locked your jaw and sat in continued silence. This hardly phased Marc, however, so he continued.

"You'll just keep changing and adding, changing and adding, until you've got an entirely new presentation you're unfamiliar with. Then by the time you have to present it, you'll get overwhelmed and trip up because its nothing like what you practiced with. You'll be tired, too, which doesn't help. That's what happened last time, from my understanding."

You leaned further into Marc's chest, appreciating the feel of his skin against your own, and let out a heavy sigh.

"Things have to go perfectly to make up for that. I want to prove to them that I can do better."

Another kiss pressed itself against your skin.

"And you will, if you get some rest."

"I... I just can't. I'm all wired up right now and I don't know if I'll be able to get any sleep."

Marc was silent for a beat, only giving you a low 'hmm' in response. Several minutes had passed and you almost thought he had drifted off before he was speaking again.

"What if I laid on you?"

You rolled your eyes with a scoff, earning a chuckle from the man.

"No, not like that. What if I literally laid on you?"

You frowned, turning in your boyfriend's grasp to better face him. his tired eyes and a small smile greeted you.

"I don't see how that would help."

"It would be kind of like using my body as a weighted blanket. I think you mentioned having one in your apartment, right?"

You considered it for a moment, silently appreciating the way his thumb drew small circles on your hip. It was true- you did have a weighted blanket you often made use of back in your flat. And you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn't regret bringing it with you...

"You can say no if you want. It's just a suggestion."

"I know."

You toyed with your bottom lip, pondering the idea. What did you have to loose in trying?

"Let's give it a go, then."

"Fine by me."

Marc briefly released his hold on you only so he could roll himself on top of you, resting his head in the crook of your neck before he let his arms lazily circle you once again. You hummed contently at the shift in pressure Marc's weight provided, an instantaneous calm buzzing through your limbs. After several quiet moments of laying together like that, both your rapid heartbeat and breathing finally slowing, he groggily spoke.

"Better?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Good."

Just a few minutes later and the two of you had peacefully drifted off, the noise from the busy streets below falling on blissfully deaf ears.

[fallenwhumpee]

100 followers is incredible! so happy for you :)

i don’t really have a specific whump request, but if you’re in the mood to write i will never turn down some hidden injury stuff.

Thank you! No one can turn down hidden injury stuff :)

Trial and Error

• Masterlist •

Warnings: Blood, stitching, needle.

Right Hand was tense, but the reason wasn't the stab wound at their side.

It was the eyes of Leader, burning into their back.

They were barely a team, put together not long ago. Right Hand didn't know how to act, despite catching a good rhythm in the missions.

They breathed as they stumbled but caught themselves quickly, fastening their pace as they saw Leader make a move towards them. They tried to start a chat with Youngest. Sustaining a conversation was going to take a lot of trial and error, but Right Hand was starting to get a better understanding of their teammates, and it was distracting them from the pain.

They could feel their black shirt sticking to their stomach, wet and cold.

Maybe they were supposed to tell that they were bleeding out actively. But what was their excuse? They got distracted and were too slow to dodge a knife?

They didn't want to sour the mood, and they weren't sure how Leader would react. With their short time together, Leader kept their distance, and their reputation was enough to discourage the most friendliest person. It also didn't help to see them in missions, taking down everyone despite their smaller size.

Perhaps they would pull the medic aside if they had one. Strangely, no medical staff was assigned to them, and they doubted Youngest and Tech could do more than putting bandaids on paper cuts.

Right Hand blinked back the black dots covering their vision, failing to respond to Youngest. Luckily, Youngest wasn't offended, marching next to Tech.

"No?" Was Leader asking or stating?

Unluckily for Right Hand, Leader caught up with them and decided to just stare at them with suspicion. After what felt like an eternity, Leader cleared their throat. "You're injured."

"You need better lying skills. Are you able to hold on until home?"

"I'm fine. I was just distracted."

That earned a look. Concerned? Frustrated? Offended?

"You're not fooling me."

"I wouldn't dare." They tried to sound confident, but their voice was strained.

"I won't tell a soul."

"I'm... fine." They took a deep breath. They doubted they looked convincing.

Leader must have doubted, too, stopping walking and raising an eyebrow.

Right Hand sighed. "I'll hold on until home."

Leader seemed satisfied, sliding under their arm and shouldering their weight.

Right Hand slumped, the comfort breaking their will to go on by themselves.

"You're getting a diet when we get back," Leader muttered.

Right Hand chuckled, a groan escaping as their stomach stretched. To their relief, Leader didn't point out how horrible they sounded.

By the time they got home, they were basically dead on their feet. Leader ushered everyone to their room to clean up, half carrying Right Hand to their room. Right Hand struggled to focus, the blood loss finally catching up as the adrenaline left their veins.

Leader set them down, disappearing for a second before coming up with a small box.

"I used to get injured often," Leader started, picking up a syringe from the box. "Hid them until I was all alone, patching myself up rather clumsily before I found my way with trial and error."

Right Hand felt a pinch on their stomach, pain starting to dull. They watched as Leaded pulled a needle and soaked a cloth with antiseptic.

"Why did you hide them?" Right Hand asked as they hissed, Leader starting to clean the wound.

"I thought I would be a burden." They started stitching. "Or seem weak. Perhaps I was right at that time, but after I had to pull a bullet out of myself, I knew I had to do something."

"What?" They looked away.

"I studied field medicine to let no one live through the same." Leader pulled them from the wall they leaned back, starting to wrap the bandages. "And when you tried to shut me away, I thought I made you feel like that— like a burden. I'm pretty new to all of this, just like you, so please tell me. Did I do something wrong?"

"No." Right Hand whispered. That was a lot to take in at once.

"Good." Leader helped them lay back to their bed. "I'll get you some antibiotics. You should be fine with some rest."

They fell into a silence, and Right Hand thought they could get used to this.

[thinkpink212]

♡ Taking Myself There - Week 2 ♡

— Life has shown itself to be about learning & moving, so let’s learn and move

Summery This week was def something else; I didn't do much but work work work, and when I wasn't working I spend my time taking care, reading, making nice meals and easing myself back into stretching daily. Next week has a mixture of busy and free time, and with my courses pick back up meaning I need to get back on my fixed routine or I will find myself falling back faster then I should! But despite that, I had a pretty good week with lots of realizations! And I am sure next week will be great too!

This week I was very grateful for...

♡ The distance I created between my parent and I, because the absence truly strengthened our bond.

♡ My creativity and my ability to have so much fun whenever I tap into it!

♡ Getting back into audiobooks after having to pause my subscription due to financial issues. I have missed escaping into these little worlds! They have me smiling all day long!

♡ My strengthening ability to walk away! It has saved me from a lot of mess!

♡ My ability to take care of myself even when things are moving faster and I am tired!

Highlights - The best parts of the week where five moments... ♡

♡ Getting back in touch with old friends, and reminding myself friendship is a two way street! Life’s hectic and sometimes time will pass with some radio silence, but I remind myself that the right people always find their way back (and I find my way back to them) Now I have plans made and I’m exited to see my girlies!

♡ My roomates mom! She taught me how to bake very simple bread, and it is all I have had for the past few days! They are delicious, fun and easy to make, cheaper then buying bred and filling!

♡ Cool interactions with guests at my work, as well as coworkers who have just made me laugh loads!

♡ My art spark is back and I am very exited to create more in the month of august!

What's next With the upcoming week, I would like to spend more time writing - I always say this and then I write 2-3 times in a week for hours and nothing else, but I know once I start ill not stop till I am satisfied, so I must simply start! But it’s easier said then done, but I’ll get it done this time around!

I also had a realization that I am truly a stereotype of my zodiac modality! As a Cancer (Cardinal sign) I am a starter, a leader, a creator but I lack the 'execution' kick that can occur at times but doesn't last long, unless it can be done now and here. With patience, journaling and more inner work, I also find myself not thriving well when I try to pace myself, over-plan and such (SN Pisces / NN Virgo), and so, I need a balance that allows that quick, fun and focused energy that just shoots me from point to point, with enough discipline and planning to continue w/o burnout or distraction. Ex. I’ll now be writing my book(s) whole. No more writing one chapter and editing, because the perfectionist side will keep at it and I don’t have the attention span or patience (or enough story) for it to be what I need it to be. So now I she’ll write, and edit/retouch when it is a whole story.

Another realization is overcoming this urge to always start over and start something new. Ex. I found myself wanting to start a whole new art page just to post art that I can just post on here, but I didn't want to ruin my feed, or be persevere or have this be associated directly with my art... and it made me disappointed (in my thoughts) that I think my art would ruin anything. It’s rude @ myself, but hey it’s how I feel somewhere deep. I love my art but I definitely have a very wide variety/non-consistant art style — I love it, but it doesn’t always fit each-other. But hey, that’s a part of where I am trying to go (being perceived, judged and so on). I’ll have to work on accepting my creations for what they are, put less pressure on myself and simply go where I am taken. And now, I would like to take this page to a new level so stay tuned.

I will eventually become the person I need to be, because where I am going I have to become her. I have much more to learn and much more to do (and not just say I’ll do tihi) but it is coming, and so far I am very proud of where I have taken myself! Change is scary but I am tired of letting fear win when I know that the ending is in my favor!

Wishing you all a beautiful Sunday & Happy Week Ahead 🩷

[minteayoongimakesmewoozi]

been thinking about this for a couple days now, so... a lil bit of royalty!au teehee

Ayame said she was raised in a family of blacksmiths.

Who would know better?

Her hands and arms had been scarred, even before she became Shishou's apprentice. They thought it was from the forge.

They didn't know it was from archery practice.

She had an excellent sense of balance. From the forge, she would insist. From working the billows.

Wrong. It had been from horse-riding.

Her stitches were clumsy. Because she had never been well-practiced in her mother's teachings. Her mother had been a seamstress. At least her embroidery was passable.

No, her mother had never been a seamstress. Noble women never mended their own clothes.

Nobility was one way of referring to the Higichi family of Okutama. Kuge was another.

Hime was not simply a childhood nickname.

"Hime," Tanjirou whispered, eyes wide, "what are you doing here?"

Here, on Mount Kumotori.

Ayame furtively glanced around, but they were alone. Tomioka-san had long fled, and it was only herself, Tanjirou and Nezuko.

"It isn't Hime, it's Ayame," she said sharply. "I'm here as a Kisatsutai trainee, not as... and I gave up my succession. There are - there is no more Ayame-hime. Just Ayame."

She knew they had a strange upbringing. They were the same age, but they were never the same station. Tanjirou, as a guard. Ayame, as royalty.

But there was only one Higuchi and two Kamados left. And she had given up her succession, the same way Oniichan had done the same before her.

Hime was just a childhood nickname now.

Tanjirou paled. He clutched his oni sister close and choked back a sob. There was no more Higuchi family. Only Higuchi Ayame.

But that didn't make him any less her guard.

Tanjirou was not unfamiliar with a katana. With Breathing Styles, with Breath of Water, but not with a sword in hand.

But Tanjirou said he was raised in a charcoal burner's family. It wasn't a lie. His family had burned charcoal for Okutama.

They were not merely charcoal burners.

He had grown up with a sword in hand, and he had learned to swing it under his Otousan's tutelage. His father had been the guard to O-Junhiko-sama. Tanjirou was meant to be the guard for O-Akihiko-sama. Then, O-Ayame-hime.

No, just Ayame now.

There was no Higuchi family.

But there was the Kamado family, however small.

He didn't know if Urokodaki-san had figured out he was familiar with a katana. He already knew how to do basic strikes. He had spent his childhood sparring with Hi - with Ayame.

There was no Higuchi family.

There was Higuchi Ayame.

There was the Kamado family, reduced to two.

The Kamados had always guarded the Higuchis.

"Hime," Tanjirou gasped as the obi sliced into his shoulder, and Ayame crashed into a building.

She didn't scold him for using that old title. He wasn't sure she was conscious.

Wasn't sure if she was breathing.

He was her guard. He was supposed to protect her, even though she told him time and time again that he was just Tanjirou, and she was just Ayame.

"You don't have to live your life protecting me. I don't want that. I can do it myself."

That was what she had said after they fought Kyougai. He hadn't wanted to agree, but she was stronger than him now. She was one year his senior when it came to all things Kisatsutai. She didn't need protection.

He couldn't have protected her even if he wanted to.

Too distracted by the civilian behind him, he had rushed to protect that man instead of his hime. (Ayame had always been hime to him, even when they were children.)

Warabihime threw her hair over her shoulder. He didn't have to breathe in to know she was satisfied with the destruction she had caused. Buildings lay broken. People were screaming.

And his hime was not with him.

Anger rushed through him as blood dripped from his eyes, staining his cheeks with crimson tears.

He was supposed to protect his hime.

He was going to cut down the false Warabihime in her name.

"Tengen-san found out."

"Eh?"

"In Yoshiwara."

"Eh?!"

Ayame crossed her legs and frowned at him.

Tanjirou winced. He was still recovering from his coma, so he couldn't even dash away. Not that he would want to. Even if Ayame didn't think she was royalty anymore, he was her guard and would continue acting as such.

"You called me Hime," she said, accusatory. "When Gyuutarou was going to stab me. On that roof."

Tanjirou winced once more. Ah, that...

It had slipped from his mouth without a second thought. He might call her Ayame to her face, but she was still O-Ayame-hime to him. He hadn't meant to!

She continued, "He thought it was strange, so he did some digging. Found out that I'm kuge. Which means he knows you're buke."

His eyes widened. "No!"

"Yes." She crossed her arms as well. "So. He knows."

"Has he - has he told anyone?"

Zenitsu and Inosuke flashed through his mind. They knew the stories Ayame and Tanjirou had told of their families best, which meant that they knew the least about the true nature of their families. They were both nobility, and they did their best to act like they weren't.

Ayame shook her head. "He didn't tell anyone." She pursed her lips. "Zenitsu might suspect, though. He was in earshot."

Tanjirou groaned and covered his face with his hands. What a mess.

"We should've just told everyone," he mumbled.

He didn't have to look at her to know she was glaring at him.

"No! I don't want people to know I'm kuge. They'll start thinking I'm unsuited to be a Demon Slayer. I'm a tsuguko. I can't let that happen."

"Hime..." A sharp pinch to his ankle. His leg jerked, almost causing him to kick her off the bed. "Ow - Ayame."

She nodded in satisfaction. "There. Isn't it better when you're just Tanjirou and I'm just Ayame? Look at everything we've done since we became normal people. I don't want to lose that."

Normal people, huh? He didn't think anything they were doing was normal. If they were normal people, she would be a blacksmith, and he would be a charcoal burner.

She would not be his hime. She would just be Ayame.

His heart fluttered in his chest.

"You're beautiful," Tanjirou breathed.

It was wrong. He knew it was wrong, these feelings that welled up in him, but he couldn't help it.

Because Ayame was seated before him, wearing his haori and the sunflower hairpin that he bought for her, and she was looking at him like she wouldn't look at anything else.

"Ayame," he whispered.

Not Hime. Just Ayame.

Her fingertips were rough as they skittered across his jawline, but so, so gentle. He couldn't help but lean into her touch.

He was just Tanjirou, and she was just Ayame.

Her lips pressed to his and it felt like fireworks bursting to life in his chest. It was Hinokami Kagura burning him up from the inside, but it didn't matter as long as she kept holding him so gently.

His hime.

His -

Hime.

She was kuge, and he was buke, and it looked like the same thing on the surface, but it was wrong.

It was wrong, but why did it feel so right?

But it wasn't. It was wrong.

Because she was O-Ayame-hime, and he was Kamado-kimi.

It was the same thing on the surface, but it wasn't the same thing at all. They were of different ranks - not just in the Kisatsutai, but in life as well.

Otousan always told him to never forget his duty.

He was his hime's guard, and nothing more.

"Tanjirou," she whispered. His heart ached, even as it was soothed by the way she called out to him. As if they could stand on equal ground. "I - Tanjirou, I - "

"I can't," he croaked.

Her hair was so soft, ink-black tresses spilling over his fingers. He was undeserving of such a position; his hands were never allowed to touch her. They were meant to protect her.

Even if it meant from himself.

"I can't." No, don't look at him like that. Don't look at him like - "I can't. I'm sorry. I - "

I'm not worthy, Hime.

Tanjirou knew she would come to him. She was always braver than him.

"I think," Ayame murmured, "I'm falling in love with you."

"Don't say that," he said, even as his heartbeat fluttered in his throat and his chest swelled with emotion. "Don't..."

How could she? When she was O-Ayame-Hime, and he was Kamado-kimi.

He dropped to a bow, forehead pressed to the tatami. Showing her the respect she deserved.

"Tanjirou - what are you - ?"

"O-Ayame-Hime, please forgive me."

Her breath hitched. Her scent swirled around him, suzuran and charcoal, sadness and grief.

"I'm not - "

"As your guard," he continued, "it was inappropriate of me. I apologise."

"Tanji - "

"Hime."

"..."

"..."

He didn't lift his head. It wasn't proper.

Her voice was cool when she said, "You are forgiven, Kamado-kimi. Please raise your head."

Oh. He hadn't heard her use that tone with him since...

"No more Hime or O-Ayame-hime. Just call me Ayame, and I'll call you Tanjirou. Okay? We're - we're friends now. Right...?"

Tanjirou slowly straightened. His throat was tight, but even if he could muster any words, it was - it was inappropriate for a mere guard to speak without being spoken to. He kept his gaze on the tatami in front of his knees; a guard shouldn't lay eyes on a princess unless they were in public.

"Kamado-kimi, raise your head."

At his hime's command, he raised his gaze to meet hers.

She sighed. "So that's it, then?"

Tanjirou took a deep breath.

"That's it, then."

It was time they both remembered their places.

Tanjirou's nose wrinkled at the burning scent of alcohol.

“It's tradition,” said Zenitsu. He swallowed a mouthful of his sake and claimed Ayame's seat for his own. “Sorry that didn't go the way I planned. I forgot how quick your reflexes are.”

He shot his older friend a mildly annoyed look.

“Zenitsu…”

“We all knew it was gonna happen anyway. I just thought I'd give you guys a kick in the ass. Get things moving along, ne.” Zenitsu glanced at Tanjirou. “I didn't hear whatever you guys were whispering about, don't worry. The music was too loud.”

A sigh of relief slipped from Tanjirou's chest. He forgot about Zenitsu's incredible hearing.

To stave off more questions, Tanjirou sipped the sake dish in his hands. The alcohol was just as burning and unpleasant as he remembered.

“Ne, it's about to get more dangerous.” Zenitsu tipped his head back. “Not for us, but for Ayame-chan. She'll be fighting in battles that we can't help her with soon enough.”

“That's true…”

"So, whenever you call her Hime, it makes her really frustrated. It's not like she's helpless."

Tanjirou choked on air. "Zenitsu...!"

"You're not subtle. I've suspected for a while now." The blonde laughed to himself. "A real-life princess, and you're acting like this? You really are an idiot, aren't you?"

"Ze - Zenitsu! Quiet down!"

"No one's listening, it's fine." He drank another mouthful of sake. "Ne, you're living the life most guys dream of. Why won't you just be honest?"

"It's not like that. She's my hime, and I'm her guard."

Zenitsu nodded. "Yeah, yeah, but she's never treated you like that. Ayame-chan's always treated you as Tanjirou, you know."

"That..."

His protest died in his throat.

That was true. Since the moment she met him again on Mount Fujikasane, they had been standing on equal ground. Tanjirou and Ayame, not Kamado-kimi and O-Ayame-hime.

Zenitsu knocked his shoulder against Tanjirou's. “She'll need all the luck she can get, either way,” the blonde said lightly. “Inosuke and I already gave her good luck kisses, but don't lag behind too much. I'm sure it'll mean a lot coming from you.”

Tanjirou gaped. “Wh-When did you…!”

Zenitsu laughed. “Ayame-chan's right. Your situational awareness is terrible.” He tipped the rest of his sake into Tanjirou's cup. It almost sloshed over. “Drink up! Then you won't chicken out.”

Zenitsu stood, stretching his arms up. His hands landed on his hips.

“Y'know, the idea of you finding happiness before still irritates me a bit,” his eyebrow twitched, “but if it's you and Ayame-chan, I can't help but root for you guys. I guess it's 'cause you're my best friends.”

Warmth that had nothing to do with sake bloomed in Tanjirou's chest.

Zenitsu hadn't known they were kuge and buke. Even then, he was still rooting for them. He didn't understand how different their stations in life were, but maybe it didn't really matter. Not when they were this far away from Okutama.

Tanjirou gazed down at his sake dish, then drained it. It still burned, and it was bitter and unpleasant, but he felt a little more ready to face things.

“Help me up,” he bade.

Zenitsu grinned. “Over to your hime, ne? Come on, slowpoke.”

It was easy enough for Zenitsu to elbow his way through the small crowd. They almost seemed to part, especially when they saw Tanjirou.

Ayame was laughing about something with Aoi and Genya. She didn't laugh loudly, but her shoulders shook with mirth. Tanjirou kept his eyes on her sunflower clip – the sunflower clip he gifted her. The gift she accepted, even though it was far beneath her station. A hime should be adorned in fine silver and gold, not cheap copper and brass

You're beautiful.

“Ayame,” he called out.

She turned towards him, a question in her eyes.

His hand cupped her jaw, keeping her head still. Her eyes widened as he ducked in close and pressed his lips to her cheek.

Cheers and catcalls erupted around them, but all of Tanjirou's senses were honed in on the feeling of her cheek against his lips. Embarrassment and suzuran mingled as Ayame went completely still.

“Tanjirou, what – ?”

“For good luck,” he echoed, reluctantly pulling away.

Blue met red.

Her eyelids fluttered, her cheek growing warm beneath his fingers.

Still beautiful.

“As a… friend?” she said hesitantly.

He smiled, pulling his hand away. His fingers hooked in her kumihimo cords, thumb brushing over the one he had made with Zenitsu and Inosuke.

“As your friend,” he agreed.

After all, kuge or not, she would always be his hime.

[maulfucker]

AS PROMISED.

Songs I am considering as titles for this fic

I am translating here part of these songs that I find relevant - to some it'll be just the chorus, to others it'll be almost the whole song. The bolded bits are the ones I like the most as potential titles from each of them

1. Amor Distrai (Durin) by Carne Doce

"Tonight I just want to fuck And not make love, Love distracts From finding out every possibility to satisfy me I want to feel in one spot I want to feel the whole thing I want you wild, And a new way to moan You look great In a new way to fuck And don't turn off the lights And don't close the door And let's find out what excites me, what excites you, What to do to make it better Because I only come like this, Loud and clear"

2. Garoto by Carne Doce

"Boy, I get it, let's not pretend You want me and can barely wait And I want you too, it's plain to see I looked at you with that look Easy Costly Gluttonous Vulgar Hungry Eyeing you up I can already feel myself get wet"

3. Me Beija Com Raiva by Jão

"Throw your whole truth in my face And before you leave I catch you, stop And kiss me angrily, kiss me angrily..."

4. Pilantra by Jão & Anitta

"Lie to me, run from me We swear it doesn't count In this way of ours But it's not because I hate you That I can't kiss you anymore"

5. Escorpiano by Jão

"After trying everything Kissing anyone I found in the world Drinking in parks, calling and hearing you on mute I know... After I swore to forget you Lied to myself until I was convinced When I managed to not think only of you Then you show up [...] 'Wish you well' my ass I'm gonna fuck you up You will remember me 'Wish you well' my ass I am not your friend But you made me like this"

6. Quem Te Fez Rainha? by Lupa

"I closed my eyes to not see you I crossed my arms to not want you But my lips tremble from hearing you arrive My feet take me somewhere else My bones scream for you [...] Everything I did, everything I wanted Everything I am, everything that's left [...] I loved in secret so I wouldn't hear I cleaned up my dreams so I wouldn't remember But this knot doesn't want to be untied The ground starts to quake My bones scream for you Ah, if only I wasn't crazy for you..."

7. Tangerina by Tiago Iorc & Duda Beat

"My destiny Suicidal desire Divine death Sweet tangerine..."

8. Hater by Carne Doce

"You are my favorite coward, My pet hater Who loves me in reverse, Hates me with adoration"

(that's just my favoritest from each, you can specify different bits in the comments if you want)

[catreginae]

Thou Shalt Not Fall: The Bad Mint

Warriors discovers the worst possible candy to suck on.

Holy fuck, Tumblr sucks sometimes. All I want to do is format and this is my fifth time trying to get that work.

Anyway, this is for @silverdragonms who asked for some more Four and Wars interactions. I'm super congested so I hope this makes sense.

Four didn't mean to start a game, but at least it was entertaining.

With Legend out cold with a cold and in no condition to travel, they were left camping in some forest in what they figured was an era in between heroes. In the very least, nobody claimed it yet. Four thought it looked kind of like the Minish Forest but he couldn't feel any of the magic he usually felt when he was in the forest. There was some kind of magic, and his mind was racing trying to figure what it felt like, but he knew that it wasn't the minish magic that he found so soothing. The more active members of the party sat away from the rest of the group, still in sight so everybody knew where they were but they wouldn't wake up Legend with their chattering.

Four was surprised that their resident vampire didn't take the chance to take a go take a nap with Legend and Sky. He was usually took any day off to catch up on some sleep but today, Warriors was actually with them, pulling equipment out his bag to inspect as he listened to them chatter. He would smile at their words and sometimes, he contributed to the conversation, but he seemed mostly satisfied with just soaking in the company while he kept his hands busy. He pulled out some leather belt and he let out a surprised chuckle.

“What?” Wild asked, looking in his direction.

Warriors held up his belt, where there were two circular holes punched through it in two different spots. He could kind of see where the excess material ended up getting bunched up around the edge of the circles. “I might have decided to bite a leather belt instead of telling anybody I was so hungry that it made my mouth hurt.”

“Oh, when we were on the ship?” Wind asked.

Four raised an eyebrow. He didn't know anything about Warriors having problems the last time they were on they were on the ship. He supposed it made sense though. He did spend a great deal of the trip in his hammock until Wind yelled-whispered with Hyrule and Time, and then he started coming out more. If he was hungry, it made sense to avoid everybody.

His mind itched at the thought but he filed that away for later. He would find a moment to split later and talk about all the secret keeping then. Stay on the same page, stay in the present.

Warriors nodded. “I tried to keep myself distracted. On the first day, I just ended up biting down this belt and laying in that hammock all day. It worked for a bit since my fangs were doing something, but that didn't last too long.”

“Can I see that?” Four asked. Warriors threw it to him. Looking at the belt closely, it was obvious that the circles were bite marks but he was more impressed by the fact that he could overlap the two spots were the circles appeared and actually see the groove Warriors' fangs left behind. The layer of belt on top had wider bite marks than the bottom layer, which had small exit holes where only the tips of his fangs cleared it.

He never thought about how strong Warriors' teeth had to be for him to be able to actually weaponize them. Four knew they were sharp to make such clean wounds when he did bite people, but seeing as it wasn't particularly difficult to pierce skin, he didn't think much of how strong his fangs – and by extension, his jaws – could actually be.

Part of him was almost giddy with the new information about vampires, but he reigned it in. A little bit.

“What else can you bite through?” Four asked as he threw the belt back.

And that was how Warriors end up biting through whatever odd materials Wild had in the slate. Wood, varying types of rocks, different kinds of plants and fruits, and even some monster parts that Warriors didn't seem to hate. Once Wild was bored of making Warriors eat rocks and slimy things, he took out one of his scavenged swords and presented it to Warriors. Four didn't need to hold the sword to know it was no good. Sometimes, Wild was lucky and he picked one up that could last him a while, but that was not one of those swords. It was probably a sad looking blade in the hands of its previous owner, whatever that was, and it didn't stand a chance in Wild's hands.

And apparently, it didn't stand a chance between Warriors' teeth.

It shattered the second Warriors applied any force. He was still holding the handle but the end of it fell into his lap and the parts closest to his mouth went flying, some bits even flying into his face. All things considered, he was lucky he didn't get hit in the eye. The captain dropped the handle to feel the cuts on his face, frowning in confusion as he did so.

“Damn, Wild, how shitty was that sword?” Wind asked.

Wild shook his head. “I had it for months. Not even I used it.”

“Good enough to cut my face,” Warriors mumbled, though Four noticed that something a little odd with the delivery. His words were strangely clipped but he didn't linger on it for long. He was more distracted by Warriors' eyes turning blue again, effectively putting an end to the little game.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Did that sword do something to your mouth?” Four asked, a whole two hours later.

It was nearing lunch time, so they regrouped around Wild. Legend was awake at this point but he was utterly miserable, so everybody silently agreed to give him some room. There wasn't much that could be done for him anyway, aside from giving him some herbal teas that would hopefully easy some his symptoms and letting him rest when he did fall asleep.

Warriors was noticeably quieter than usual but his cheeks were moving a lot too. When he did speak, it was in that strange clipped mumbling he was doing earlier. He wasn't entirely sure why Warriors garnered so much of his attention but when he noticed it, he couldn't stop noticing it. He supposed it was because part of him just cared a lot and another part of him was more than a little interested in the whole vampirism thing.

The captain looked at him, frowned, then looked away. “No.”

“Very convincing,” Four muttered.

“It's true,” he mumbled again. “It's, um, something else.”

Warriors avoided his gaze, and then suddenly, he stuck his fingers into his mouth and pulled something out. It was a small and grey, strangely angular in shape.

“Is that a piece of the sword?” Four asked. It might have been a shitty sword but the edges that broke off could still be sharp. It wouldn't be hard for Warriors to cut the inside of his mouth on accident in the two or so hours he must have had it. Maybe he ended the game earlier because he somehow ended up with a piece of it in his mouth and simply decided he preferred that to the unrefined rocks Wild was getting him to bite.

“It's tasty.”

And suddenly, everything made sense. Warriors liked the taste the blood – he had to like it if it was the staple of his diet – and well, Four split his lip enough times to know what blood tasted like. It was a pretty harmless way for him to get enjoy the taste of blood without actually having to consume any, and well, Warriors deserved to have something like that. Four resolved to make him something that would serve the same purpose once he got to his forage that wouldn't cut his mouth but for the time being, he had a replacement.

“Drop that,” Four said as he stood to get to his bag.

The last time they were able to go to a blacksmith, he bought handfuls of small metal loops in case anybody needed parts of their chain mail replaced since the portals had yet to take him anywhere close to his forge. He didn't get to use them for their intended purpose yet but Four knew that one day, he would need to, so he made sure to keep them in their own little pouch in his bag for when that day came.

He plopped down beside Warriors with the few that he pulled and stuffed them into his hand.

“They're made of wrought iron. Assuming you like the taste, I have plenty. Should be better than a piece of sword. ”

Warriors raised an eyebrow as he looked between Four and the small metal loops in his hands.

“You like the piece of sword because the metal tastes like blood, right? Try something that doesn't have a sharp edge then.”

The captain gave him one last wary look, like he expected Four to change his mind and take the metal loops back, before he popped one of them into his mouth. For a moment, he was quiet. Then, he nodded.

“It tastes good too,” he said, without the mumbling this time. The loops didn't seem to interfere with his ability to speak as much either, which Four considered a win in his book. Or Vio's book. It was more like Vio's book. He would be the only one to write any of it down. “Can you keep this between us?”

“Sure, but it's not that big of a deal, you know. Wild passes out those honey candies all the time for that same purpose. It's not filling at all, it just tastes good.”

“But it's candy, not a piece of sword.”

“You drink blood and eat raw meat sometimes. Your definition of 'edible' isn't exactly the same as a normal person's definition of 'edible', just like how Wild's definition of 'edible' is you know... unlike anybody else's definition sometimes.”

Four stopped. Where was he going with this again? He took a deep breath.

“I guess, you just let the idea of normal get to your head sometimes. We're anything but normal. The best we can do is do what's normal for us, whatever that is.”

Warriors hummed to himself. “I guess you have a point.”

“You guess?” Four asked as punched Warriors in the arm. “Give me more credit than that.”

“Fine, fine. You can have my tactician job since you're so insightful,” Warriors said with a grin, the metal loops flashing between his teeth.

“No, no, no. I'm not that kind of insightful.”

“Suit yourself.”

[ripleyinspace]

Chapter 2 - The Lie

Noah Diaz x Female!OC

Summary: Shaolin, a university student that comes from a tight-knit family, has always kept her nose clean and followed the rules. Aside from her mouth occasionally being her undoing, her mother could always count on her daughter to be the best version of herself: smart, capable, independent. Then came a freckled stranger who turned out to not be as much of a stranger as she thought.

18+!! | Third-person omniscient | AU/AT |  Warnings: Language, Themes of the adoption system, sneaking around, mention of crime, cute fluffy bs

Words: 4.4K

A/N: I update warnings with each chapter. Only proceed if you can handle the themes included in the warnings. This AU probably doesn’t satisfy anyone but myself

Minors DNI, DL;DR, if I miss a warning, please let me know

Chapter List

As the usual morning hustle ensued, Shaolin couldn't help but kick herself disappointedly for letting her new neighbor charm her so quickly. After the realization the night before, she had trouble sleeping as she tossed and turned, thinking about how her mother reacted and, in turn, forced her to react the same.

The only issue was: she couldn't get him out of her head. She found her pining to be uncharacteristic and childish. A dumb crush on yet another guy who was seemingly just that— a guy. A distraction.

All the while, Shao still played out that dumb fantasy from the hallway like it was a fond memory. A close encounter that only existed in fiction.

Foolish. She thought as she re-checked herself in the mirror and concluded that there wasn't much she could do to avoid being the same-old Shaolin. Unlikely to catch the gaze of a mere stranger.

Upon exiting the bathroom, Shaolin noticed her mom already scooping up her purse, making her wonder if she was leaving early or if Shao was just running late again. 

"I'm heading out, and don't forget to-"

"Come by Pablo's tonight, ma, I know." Shao interrupted her mom with an accidentally exasperated tone. On the approach, Val cocked her head at her daughter,

"You good?" She asked, which was met with a heavy sigh,

"Yeah, just tired, is all." The young woman replied. Mom tucked a lock of hair behind her daughter's ear tenderly before stamping a kiss on her forehead. 

"I'll see you later. I love you."

"I love you, too, mama."

Per usual, Shaolin was the last to leave the apartment and locked up accordingly. The only thing out of the ordinary was her new neighbor exiting his place simultaneously as she did, like he was waiting for her. Though she tried to pay him no mind, Noah quickly caught up with her in the hall.

"Good mornin', Shaolin!" He greeted, dawning his coveralls that provided a sneak peek of the white ribbed tank top underneath. 

"Morning." She responded shortly, still looking forward as they pushed through the heavy stairwell door. 

Noah immediately noticed the change in her tone and how she seemed much less interested in speaking with him this morning versus the night before. 

"Did you sleep well?" He asked as they descended a few flights of stairs. 

Something about the question made Shaolin's heart skip. It was thoughtful and would've made her blush if she didn't have her mom's voice in her head telling her to keep her distance. 

"Fine," Shao replied coldly as she inserted one earbud into her right ear, looking down at her Spotify playlist. A part of Noah wanted to leave her be and catch up later, but he could have sworn they shared a moment in the hallway. His next move would either get him swung on, or she would stop and hear him out. He took his chances.

"Did I do something?" He asked as he circled in front of her, now outside their apartment building. Shao was just about to insert her second earbud and drown him out entirely but figured she would give him some sort of explanation. 

"You stole a Pontiac." She said matter-of-factly. "And happened to get arrested by my ma's boyfriend." 

Noah stood speechless momentarily, staring back at the girl's dark brown eyes before she brushed past him again, back on her trek to the subway. This was met with him repeating his action from before, cutting her off and standing before her with annoying, yet endearing persistence. 

"Woah, hey! I was a kid and haven't had that kind of trouble since. I paid for it." He defended, truth reflecting in his eyes just as the sun would. Shaolin began to feel bad, knowing it was a judgment she or her mother didn't make fairly. 

Noah's expression turned from concern to the previous cheer as he realized he wasn't getting hit or ignored. "You act like you've never done anything bad before." He said with a smirk. 

Shaolin couldn't help but grin at this, though she tried to hide it, half-covering her mouth with her sleeve. "I don't get into trouble." She told him.

"You mean you've never broken the rules, or you've never been caught?" Noah retorted, crossing his arms. She began to see this conversation going sideways, knowing he would use it if given any more information. 

"Have a good day, Baby Noah." She told him with a cheeky eye-roll as she tried to exit the conversation, skirting around him and keeping her face forward. The second earbud barely touched its resting place before Noah called out from behind her again, making her stop dead in her tracks.

"Hey, I just wanna get to know you. You're cool, and I don't know anyone around here."

Me? Cool? She thought as the words replayed in her mind but were briskly cut off by her mama's voice echoing in her head again, this time telling her to keep walking and forget it, but she felt glued to the pavement. Brooklyn suddenly felt all too quiet as she pivoted around and looked at him,

"My family and Blowhard can't know we hang." She spoke gravely, but even still, Noah met her serious tone with an antsy smile as he caught back up with her at a casual pace.

"Aren't you an adult?" He asked once he returned to her side, and they began walking again. Shao snickered and shook her head,

"I live under my ma's roof; I play by her rules. Didn't your folks ever teach you that?" 

"They're rich, so they weren't around much and didn't have many rules."

As Shaolin thought about it, she realized it made sense. His dad was Mike Diaz: though not a household name, he was well-known in the Big Apple for his energy company. 

On the other hand, his mom, Penelope, was a jewelry designer with franchise stores all around the U.S. and was arguably the most successful of the two. Shao imagined there wasn't enough time to establish rules or give parental guidance. She imagined there might have been a lot of nannies picking up his parents' slack.

She imagined it might be worth sticking around long enough to find out as she rolled her eyes again.

"That explains it." She responded, followed by a shared laugh between them. "So why come back here? Why not use the money you come from and stay near the big wigs?" 

"S'not my money," Noah said candidly with a shrug. Shao responded with a slight nod, expressing with the gesture that it was a good point as the entrance to the subway station came into view. She was prepared to bid him adieu before he spoke again. "What's the plan after school?" 

Is he about to ask me out? She thought to herself, her heart suddenly thumping fast and loud before she remembered her promise to her ma.

"Gotta help out at Pablo's. Friday night's the busiest." Shao explained as she stepped in front of him and turned to speak face-to-face, just enough to get out of the way of the crowd. 

"And after that?" Noah followed up and took a step forward, both for her to hear him over those entering and exiting the station and to close the gap she left between them a little more.

"Self-mandated bedtime," Shao answered confidently. 

"You must be real fun at parties." He teased. 

"I don't party." She said, taking a step backward. "I gotta get goin'." 

Though Noah recognized that many would find those facts boring, he couldn't help but appreciate that she was honest with herself and wasn't ashamed. It made him like her immensely, and it took him a beat to realize he was staring back at her big, brown eyes as they fostered the silence between them. Still, she had places to be.

"See ya, Shao." He said, watching the girl turn and descend into the station.

After daydreaming through her classes, it was time for Shaolin to be quick and alert on waitress duty. Though it wasn't something she was naturally good at, she had to learn for the sake of her mom and the restaurant. It would only be a matter of time before she made Lyle start helping, as well.

Shao's section was full of regulars who knew her by name, and in return, she knew all their usual orders and barely had to write anything down when taking them. Drink orders were just the same, and the Thompson family had to be the easiest: six sweet teas without ever straying.

As the sugary brown liquid filled the red cups at the far window table of the restaurant, Shao's eyes flicked to the glass to look out at the setting sun. Instead, she saw what she didn't expect— a familiar, curly head walking along the sidewalk, no doubt just leaving work. There was a smudge of black grease across his cheek and his hands gave away who the culprit was quickly.

Just as she noticed Noah, he happened to look through the very same window at the same moment, catching the girl's gawking as she expertly switched to pouring from one cup to another. Her hair was pinned back, and her shirt was one of the few purple garments in existence that dawned the name of the establishment.

He smiled at her and nodded once, and for a second she could have sworn she was making a mess with the iced tea before she looked down at the table. All of the cups were filled, and the faces of the family grinned up at her with delight. Though Shao had snapped back to reality, she was visibly and physically flustered by the man admiring her through their window.

"Your food should be out soon." She spoke awkwardly as she turned to take her leave back to the kitchen. Before her eyes could register the event, the pitcher of cold, sweet beverage was turned into her body, splashing down the front of her shirt before it smacked to the floor. Shao had turned the wrong way and consequently ran head-first into another server, Kendra.

Somehow, the other woman roughly five years her senior got away without getting a drop on her, but Shao's panic flew through the roof as she saw Noah still looking on from the corner of her eye. She couldn't make out his expression, and she frankly didn't want to. "God, I'm so sorry!" She told Kendra as she knelt down to pick up the pitcher. The woman stopped her before she could make it very far. 

"Don't worry about it, Jackson. Go get a new shirt on, I got this." Kendra insisted with a delicate hand on her shoulder. It was clear she knew Shao was overwhelmed, and she nodded quickly before taking off in the opposite direction and into the kitchen.

"What was that out there?" Val asked her daughter as she stirred a large pot of pinto beans. It was unlike Shaolin to make mistakes or be distracted, and it wasn't a good time for her to, either. 

Shao could tell her mom was on edge already, being the busiest night of the week and already short a cook. Shao needed to choose her next words wisely. 

"Sorry, mamá. Long day." Shao said before instantly regretting it. She had been on the clock for all of two hours and she knew it sounded like she was making excuses. Unable to read her mom's expression, she repeated her apology. "I'm sorry."

Val let out a heavy sigh before turning from her beans and placing a hand on her hip. Her face was stern but her eyes seemed empathetic. 

"Just go home, mija. Kendra will cover your section." 

"But-" Shao attempted to protest, to tell her mother that she was capable of sticking around, but she was swiftly cut off before she could speak further.

"I'll see you later tonight."

Shaolin hated feeling defeated. More than that, she hated being forced to quit. Without moving from where she stood, she untied her sopping-wet apron and threw it to the ground with a slap before storming out of the "employee's only" door in a huff. It was immature, and she knew it.

She started back around the building to the sidewalk, intent on going straight to the subway as she rang out the tea-soaked shirt. She was angry and annoyed and in desperate need of a nap, despite her wide eyes. 

As she stomped around the corner, she was nearly stopped in her tracks to find Noah still standing in the same spot as before, black smear now lighter after an attempt to clean up a bit with his sleeve.

"You good?" He asked as she continued by. Without invitation, he followed. 

"No, I'm not." She answered with a slight crack in her voice. To anyone else, she would have said she was fine, but somehow her true thought slipped out as they stepped further out of sight from Pablo's. Once a bit further down the block, Noah caught up a bit and turned her around by her shoulder. She didn't protest. 

"Yo, just breathe. Accidents happen." He told her calmly. 

"I'm normally better than this." Shao snapped in frustration. She realized she didn't have a reason to snap at him, but it happened before she could stop it. Noah recognized this and took a step closer,

"I believe you," He started, hands coming back up to her shoulders and thumbs caressing and rubbing into her collarbones like they had a mind of their own. Again, Shao didn't protest. The comfort allowed her to breathe. "But you gotta cut yourself some slack." He finished his point upon realizing that his hands were okay where they were. Shao took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth with a gentle nod,

"I know. Sorry."

Noah was relieved to hear her tone calm, but for the life of him, couldn't figure out what she had to be sorry for as the sky grew dark enough for the street lights around them to flick on. 

"Don't apologize. Have you eaten yet?" He asked sincerely. The tenderness was nearly lost on Shao. She shook her head lightly,

"Not since breakfast." She admitted. As her mind tried to come up with why she never got lunch or even a snack, it occurred to her that Noah was asking if he could take her to get food with him. It made her giddy but skeptical through the previous embarrassment. "Can I change first?" She wondered, peeling the cold, sticky fabric away from her abs to allow some air in. Noah let out a small chuckle, 

"Yeah, good idea."

The subway ride was nothing short of something out of a chick flick or romance novel, or at least, in Shaolin's mind, it seemed that way. The tube was jam-packed and seats were scarce, which led to the pair standing and bracing the same metal pole. 

She could feel his warmth from the less-than-an-inch span between them, yet it still gave her chills as a gust of wind against her damp top would. Though she avoided looking up at the slightly taller man, she could feel his eyes drop down to her, studying her face. She feared meeting his gaze, as that would surely be enough for him to be able to read her thoughts. 

Walking side-by-side back to their shared building was also silent as she walked slightly ahead of him and felt a timid relief when he didn't make many efforts to catch up. Nothing was said until they arrived at the entrance to the stone building. 

"I don't know if Blowhard's here yet, so keep a safe distance until I know for sure, okay?" Shao asked, and Noah nodded and put his hands up, understanding the task. 

The door was still locked when they got there, and a small sigh of relief washed over them both. Shaolin hesitated to allow Noah to follow her once she started in, brain flooded with thoughts of Blowhard showing up while she changed to find him in their living room. 

Yet, she let Noah follow her in and close the door behind them. They took a few steps before Shao pivoted around and held up the index finger on her right hand, signaling for him to wait just a minute, then had to stop herself from damn near skipping the rest of the way to her bedroom.

The only event she could compare this feeling of refreshing rebellion to was when she told her mother she was going home after school one day with Josie, but instead, went on a small camping trip with Josh. She thought she was in love, that she was free, and opened up her legs to him for the first time that weekend. 

Shao was fearful yet cheerful as she slipped the wet Pablo's shirt over her head and let it flop to the floor below, double-checking that she closed her door all the way and imagined it being open just a crack— just enough for Noah to spy, to find out what he really wants from her.

Noah stood, shifting his weight from one foot to another in the living room where he spent his days as a baby and toddler. The first memories of his life were fuzzy but he felt the familiarity and warmth like a hug from an old friend. 

It was like the place hadn't changed in twenty years. The photos on the walls and surfaces were exactly the same, only harboring a thin layer of dust left by time and busy occupants. It felt lived in, as a home should, unlike his family's home that was visited by cleaners who returned it to the Better Homes catalog it resembled so painfully.

Stills of Shao and Lyle brought back gut-wrenching feelings that made him miss his little brother Kris. He hadn't spoken to the kid in a couple days, which was his fault. A text message remained unopened from that morning with a simple "Sup ?" from his kin. Noah had been too busy to respond. 

He waited a second longer and looked towards the door that his companion for the evening disappeared into before he pulled his phone from his back pocket. The device illuminated as a small box appeared, marked as ten hours old with the one-word greeting. 

Just as Noah thumbed over it and the conversation with his brother appeared, Shao's bedroom door creaked open and footsteps followed. Without another thought, he quickly put his phone back into his pocket to look the breathtaking girl up and down. 

Pablo's shirt and blue jeans now black leggings and an oversized blue sweater that, if it was her size, would be cropped. Simple, but she was far more comfortable. She wanted to look okay for this outing, wanted to catch his eye. She also didn't want to care what he thought of her and felt panicked from the pain in her cheeks from keeping herself from grinning. 

One of the few places open that sounded good to both of them was a small sandwich joint called Buddy's Beef. They briefly bonded over a mutual agreement that a cold sandwich was better than a hot one and got two Italian cold cut, six-inch subs to go. Shaolin ordered hers with all the fixing available, oil and vinegar to top it off while Noah kept his plain Jane with lettuce and mustard. 

"Your sandwich is boring as hell, dude." Shao teased as they left after paying. 

"It's simple! My go-to, less messy." Noah defended, holding the sack that held their food at his waist. Though Shao rolled her eyes, she liked his explanation and wondered if that reflected his approach toward relationships. She also wondered why she cared so much.

Under the light of the moon and the spread of the street lamps, they trekked to the nearby park, eating and talking very little, though there was so much they wanted to say. Even in the silence between them, Noah somehow comforted her and made her want to giggle. 

The subs had seemingly disappeared into thin air just as quickly as they were manifested, and there was nothing left for them to do but speak to each other. Still feeling a tinge of shame for earlier events, Shao decided to say something first.

"Sorry about my outburst earlier." She apologized. She knew she already said she was sorry, but feared if she didn't make a better effort, she would be shooting herself in the foot. Noah was unphased by the second expression of regret. 

"No biggie. I told you, accidents happen. We all embarrass ourselves in front of a bunch of people at one point or another." He said, surprising her. Not because his laid-back nature wasn't predicted, but because he was so close yet so far from the mark. She went quiet for a moment, debating what she wanted to say and coming to the only conclusion that made sense to her. 

Fuck it.

"It wasn't that, though. I think I was more embarrassed that you saw all that." Shao admitted. 

Knowing delight and false confusion filled his face and he squinted at the girl who, just that morning, fought so hard to show little interest in his presence. There was a small crack in her tough exterior and beyond that, a bright, white, warm glow showed through. 

"Why ya care what I think?" He asked playfully. Shao could lie, avoid the question, change the subject altogether, anything to get out of this hole she dug for herself, but all she could think was-

Damn, he's gorgeous. 

She hoped he thought the same of her, all the while hoping he saw more than what was on the surface. Past vanity. She could be honest and admit her thoughts and in doing so, risk him taking a hike. 

Maybe that would be for the best. 

"Because I think I'm starting to like you a little bit." She told him in a tone that registered just above a mumble, trying to hide the terror in her voice. It was harder than she thought it would be.

Noah cocked his head, as it was exactly what he wanted to hear, but recognized the inflection as negative. He continued to speak to her playfully in an effort to take the edge off of the subject. 

"You say that like it's a bad thing." 

Shaolin stopped in her tracks and crossed her arms, trying to make herself smaller. She feared she was taking up too much space now and half-wished he would have run for the hills instead of continuing this conversation. She faced her feet and studied his expression through her thick eyelashes, only finding genuine curiosity in his eyes.

Why start lying now?

"Men have only ever left me disappointed." She sighed, regretting saying it as it left her throat. It sounded pathetic in her own ears.

God, shut up, Shao.

To her shock and awe, Noah smiled at her again and took an airy step forward, taking care to not crowd her or box her in but not wanting his next sentence to go unheard. 

"They must've been the wrong ones," He began, pausing only because she looked up at him right away with big, sparkling eyes. Before he could read into it too much, she averted her gaze once more and directed it up at the lamp above. The insects swarming the beam explained the light buzzing sounds. She was afraid if she looked into his eyes for too long, he could read her mind. "No pressure, though." He finally added. 

"That's something you don't hear every day," Shao replied with a hint of disbelief.

It's like I built him in a fuckin' lab. 

"It's about time you do. Pressure with school, Pablo's, at home... maybe with me, you can take a break." Noah said, slipping his hands into his pockets and offering a shrug. She was fully facing him now, skeptical, and he knew it. He was prepared to prove it to her however needed. 

Shao's heart was pounding and she couldn't formulate a response. She felt foolish for not challenging him but was relieved to hear his words. Moisture gathered in her underarms and the sweater she dawned was suddenly too many layers. Her mind raced with thoughts of leaping forward, throwing herself at him. 

This isn't some book, idiot. 

Her eyes drifted to his coveralls as she swallowed thickly and she noticed a bright yellow blob on the dark fabric. Her wandering thoughts crashed back to the present, and she realized this was her chance to break the tension. 

"Less messy, huh?" 

The pair began walking back to their building after that, conversation flowing between music, ambitions, family, and anything under the moon they felt like talking about. Once they got to the entrance, they agreed to part ways to avoid suspicion, Shao heading inside first and Noah following at a distance like before. 

Upon entering her apartment, she saw her mom had just arrived back herself with a large brown sack in hand that emitted the smell of delicious food. She hadn't realized how late it really was for her mother to have returned before she did. 

"Where've you been?" Val asked, having expected her to be home. Shao thought back to the lie she told many moons ago and recycled it. 

"Josie and I hung out for a bit. I wasn't planning to be out this late." She said, only fibbing in the first half. Her mother was none the wiser. 

"Oh, good. I'm glad you were able to take a break tonight." Ma said with a smile before the grin receded. "I'm sorry about earlier." 

For a moment, Shaolin had to think about why she was apologizing, the incident at Pablo's almost entirely forgotten and overshadowed by the night's events. She shrugged,

"It's fine, I know you were stressed out."

A tense silence blanketed the space as Shao wiped her clamming palms on the front of her leggings. She hated lying to the woman who stood before her and questioned why she felt the need to lie in the first place. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the bag her mom had opened. 

"I brought some food home if you're hungry." She offered. Shao shook her head,

"Josie and I got Buddy's." 

Yet another hint of truth within the scam. 

A secondary long pause was exchanged before Shao took a breath and went to the bathroom to shower, attempting to scrub the filth that the guilt of her sneaking around left. She worried her mother could smell it from where she stood, so she banked on oatmeal-scented wash to mask the stench. 

Once dry and clothed, she fell into her bed, emitting a sound from her chest to release the heavy burden she felt. It helped very little, so she turned to tunes to drown it out. 

One earbud entered her left ear but before she could press the play button on the song she had stopped earlier, another melody sounded gently into her right ear. She was used to hearing the whistling tune of the Andy Griffith intro song but was met with bass and the familiar lyricism of "Impossible" by Wu-Tang Clan playing quietly. 

On the other side of the wall that divided their bedrooms, Noah was also in bed, finally sending a reply to Kris as music came through the speaker of his phone. 

[the---hermit]

21.06.2022 // reading updates

I haven't posted a lot on reading lately other than book reviews, and mentioning what I am currently reading in daily posts. I felt like doing a reading updates post separate from other daily things, so here it is.

These past few weeks I have been in a weird reading place, as I mentioned in other posts there has been a lot going on lately, and I am not at my best, which is definitely influencing me. I feel the desire to read and to distract myself, but I find reading way more difficult than noramally. I can't seem to focus, I feel like I am not satisfied with what I am reading, and so on. I am a bit stuck.

I had been reading House Of Leaves by M.Z. Danielewski, a very intriguing and weird horror, but I put it on hold after 100 or 150 pages more or less. It's a really cool book but it requires a certain amount of focus, which I do not have at the moment. I really hope that I'll manage to pick it back up soon, or at least before I forget about everything I have already read. Yesterday I have dnf-ed the audiobook of Fatal Eggs by M. Bulgakov, because I wasn't vibing with it. Today I decided to look for another audiobook to listen to while going on walks and I found on spotify an audiobook of Gaiman's Graveyard Book. I have been wanting to reread this childhood favourite for ages, and I am really excited for this audiobook (which I will be using for the summer reading challenge 2.0). Then I have a digital book and a physical book on my currently reading shelf. The digital book is The Faggots and Their Friends Between Revolutions by L. Mitchell, which I am reading for the studyblr w/knives pride challenge. It's really interesting, but since I am already staring at screens for hours while studying I have been reading it quite slowly. The last book I have started is Once Upon An Ice Age by R. Lewis. I've had this in my wishlist for ages, I finally got it last week, and I was super thrilled to start this lighthearted book, but apparently my focus is terrible even for that. So I am struggling a little bit. I am enjoying it but not as much as I normally would, which is bothering me so much. I cannot say I am in a reading slump, as I am still reading, but I am out of my normal routine, and this thing is messing with me. I have decided to try one last remedy, and to add just one more book to my currently reading pile. I will be rereading for the millionth time The Hobbit, one of my top comfort books, in hopes that it will bring me back to "normal".

[rainswept]

i’m not really interactive. i like to consume content and move on. it's easier just to get my instant gratification and keep myself from being perceived in any way because it makes me nervous. but even though i don't make use of tumblr’s basic functions, in my mindless haze i still remember feelings, words, and sometimes, urls too.

when i see “rainswept” i think of lyney. i feel like that's self explanatory, via the tag for lyney x reader, i found your blog. to be honest the first few times i came across your work i scrolled past it. wasn't really interested, wanted something shorter. but one morning, i was on the hunt again and actually sat down to read a fic from your account. it took me a while to process it after, and i was very distracted for the rest of the day. weeks later, still thinking about it, the words going from my head to a pit in my stomach that nothing seemed to satisfy. and then, strangely, i found myself looking up “rainswept” more and more often to reread instead of refreshing the daily “lyney x reader”

i dont know what model of brain you have, but it's great

your writing was not the idle comfort i was used to. it hurt to read, but it hurt worse to be without. i wanted to stay with my personal image of a flirty guy who's just that. flirty. easier to digest. i couldn't.

the way you described lyney in the few works i saw took my soft hand and shoved it into a hot fire of angst. longing. fire that rises, but also falls and churns like the sea. wholly consuming in its warpath. it did not let me keep that image of lyney. in fact, the tides of rising flame tore it away from me. burned it. because there's wayy more to be said about him and how he sees the world than who he falls in love with (“curtain call” is my roman empire)

absolutely crazy idea to me at the time. wow, imagine characters having actual feelings??? wtf. to be described so viscerally, picked apart by language and left crumpled amongst the carnage of your own being on a fandom page is to be loved. i want to love the way you do

so, to me, “rainswept” is the url that introduced me to really passionate interpretations of characters i like and the beauty of prose that holds you as if it were a lingering chill on the darkest of nights. i don't think i would be nearly as interested in trying to understand characters for who they are beyond romance without your work.

“rainswept” taught me how to love a character

it could have happened eventually with someone else's blog, but it was yours. through looking at your blog and the things you repost (v fun tags, by the way), i even found others i like too. (wow, it's almost like i’m discovering how the internet works!!!) you've indirectly taught me how to appreciate nuances in writing. now, i can proudly say my taste has definitely developed away from the 2018 wattpad era

that's pretty cool. character development for me i guess? i still have a long way to go before i can understand everything in my own way, but i’m learning. today was another one of those days where your url came to mind, it's been a while. i was more than happy to follow my whim

anyways! that's all, just thought i'd share. it's my first time sending an ask (´;︵;`) i had a lot to say, and i think i still have a lot to say, but i’m sure you know the difficulties of putting feelings into words. i wanted to make sure i expressed what i could before i lost the confidence to say anything at all

thank you for sharing your writing and silly thoughts, tumblr user rainswept

P.S. i would be sad if rain actually sweeps you off your feet, which is why i also offer an umbrella—in case the weather ever becomes too harsh. be safe, dude ☂️

long post i’m putting it under a read more

what in the WORLD anon. PH:WIYbpiHWbpi,HIDDNFLWUIEBFLIHABCKUGASVCKHVSEKUHBRWLUHBGW J,H?/?/?//

GOOD LORD i think something in me literally shattered with this ask. i am SHAKing TREMBLING EVEN i cannog even get a full BREAATH in i;m LOSING MY MIND

this ask is literally the reason i made my blog. the reason i ever posted to begin with. my writing ever being seen like this was my ultimate goal. if there was anything i’ve ever wanted it was this. to move people, to change their minds, to get them to see things beyond their outward appearances — and i guess i’ve achieved that because. oh my god.

i don’t know how to do this ask justice anon. i saw it and if i was standing i think i would have fallen over. you say my prose is beautiful yet yours left me breathless. seriously, not just because it being directed towards me meant so much but also just the quality of it. i understand not wanting to present yourself publicly on tumblr, but i think you are an amazing writer and if you ever did i’d be your first follower. i would read all of the writing of yours i could get my hands on. so if you have ever had any inkling to do that, do it. you only live once (and i’d go feral for it)

speaking of writing. aside from just writing because i want to, my whole mission of sorts on here is to change how people view characters. i know i can’t alter everyone’s perception — if they think someone like lyney is just flirty snd nothing more, they’re usually going to continue thinking that — but to know that i’ve had even one person change their mind on even one character is .. astounding. not even to mention changing how someone views characters as a whole? indirectly causing someone to look deeper into them, to analyze them closer, to pick them apart like you said, to feel more when reading about them? that’s absolutely insane (positive). i will never be the same after this actually.

i write to feel, and i write to make others feel, even emotions i or they may not want to. i like digging deep into characters, into pain and sadness, because i’ve always noticed that stories that hurt stay with me longer. they make me think and think and i keep going back to them. and they may not make me feel better, but i like it anyway because, to me, what is the point of reading if it isn’t going to stick with you? what is the point of feeling if, as soon as you pry your eyes away from the pages, the emotion fades with the ink?

to know that you kept thinking about my writing, then kept coming back, and that i altered the way you view characters is. crazy to me. absolutely crazy. despite desiring it so deeply, i never thought i’d have that effect on someone else.

maybe i changed how you view characters and writing, but you continue to give me the motivation to continue doing so. and actually both are so valuable to me. to know i have moved someone enough for them to send an ask like this. i don’t know how to put into words how much this,,, affected me?? i could honestly die peacefully right now. like this is all i’ve ever wanted.

“i want to love the way you do” i think you do. i think you have. i think to send an ask like this it may take more of it. this may have not been your intent or expected outcome but this has genuinely moved me. so so much.

“rainswept taught me how to love a character” oh my GOD.

i’m so glad you did have the courage to send this, because it means more to me than you know. i will cherish this forever. i’m so honored, both that what you wanted to say to me overpowered the fear of sending an ask and the fact that you even had these words to say to me to begin with. i get what it’s like to be afraid when it comes to reaching out, but know you will always be welcome here, whether it’s heartfelt words or genuinely anything. if you do have more to say, ever, i will absolutely welcome it with open arms

it takes a lot to reach out like this, but just know this is the most valuable interaction i think i have ever had on tumblr. if this doesn’t stick with me for life i think it’ll be safe to say i’ve lost all my memories. maybe i’m being dramatic, but i want you to know the extent that this has changed me (it’s fundamentally).

i don’t know how to say thank you for this. i think this will singlehandedly carry my motivation and will to keep creating for the rest of my life. i think i will keep writing because of it (and because of you, to know you are out there and once continued to return, even if i leave tumblr, even if you no longer do). to know someone out there was genuinely moved by what i also was is the greatest motivation i could ever dream of. whoever you are, i love you.

i was going to copy and paste some things you said and comment on them in particular, but i could literally do that to the entire ask. but i hope you know i will likely continue to reread every single word of this ask over and over until i can recite it because oh my god i will be thinking about this for the rest of my life

“curtain call is my roman empire” anon THIS is my roman empire 😭

this is so so all over the place because it made me so emotional LMAO i am so sorry. i don’t know how to summarize all i want to say, or go over everything you have said, but just know that i will keep every single word of this close to my heart and cherish it like i probably never have anything else.

thank you for everything. including the umbrella — rain doesn’t usually sweep me off my feet, but this ask did so i’ll use it for that instead.