#black library doesn't have this problem

[sophsicle]

I'm Sorry I'm the One You Love

Part I (Part II)

Sirius Black isn't in love with James Potter. Though sometimes Remus looks at him like he is. Like Sirius is sad and pathetic and...he doesn't even know, pining?

But he isn't.

Well.

Alright.

Sad and pathetic, perhaps. Depending on who you ask. On when you're looking. But he isn't pining. And he isn't in love with James.

That would be too easy.

Sirius thinks he could bear just being in love with him. Thinks that's a pill he could swallow. Unrequited feelings and all that. He'd mope around and write sad songs and drink too much. But eventually he'd get past it the way people seem to do with those kinds of feelings. But he isn't in love with James, is the problem.

He's fucking consumed by him.

"Sirius."

"Don't start."

Remus huffs, but, mercifully, goes back to his coursework, shaking his head while he does. Sirius, on the other hand, keeps staring at James and Lily. They aren't doing anything really, Sirius doesn't reckon Evans is one for big, public displays of affection. But then, maybe that'd be better. James and him don't - they've never - done that. Kiss or anything. So. It probably wouldn't feel so much like a kick in the fucking teeth the way watching them now does. Leaning into one another, heads nearly pressed together, whispers traded back and forth, secret smiles, nudging feet. James and Sirius have done that plenty.

Remus sighs again. "Why don't you talk to him?"

After a few seconds Sirius manages to pull his eyes away from the grotesque spectacle on the other side of the library. Why the hell are they sitting there anyway? Surely they could have sat at the same bloody table?

"I talk to him every day," Sirius says blankly. Which earns him a deeply unimpressed look.

"You know what I mean."

"I don't."

"You do."

"Don't."

He gets an eye roll this time. "Fine," muttering as he picks up his quill. "Have it your way then."

Remus has freckles splashed across his nose and cheeks, and just about the longest eyelashes Sirius has ever seen. He's obsessed with them, to tell you the truth. He's asked Remus if he uses some kind of potion for them but the other boy only scrunched his nose up, giving Sirius a look he didn't understand.

Remus's eyes flick up again now, meeting Sirius's, finding him staring. Sirius doesn't look away. He isn't embarrassed. Not about this. Not about most things, honestly.

"What?" Remus ask warily.

Sirius only shrugs. "Astronomy Tower? Tonight?"

Remus holds his gaze for a long moment before dropping his head again. "Fine." He doesn't sound overly enthusiastic but then, he never does with Sirius.

Sirius has never kissed James. Not even once. Though he's thought about it a few times. Sometimes he wants to ask James if he's thought about it too. Just so he knows. He's never kissed James.

But he has kissed Remus.

Loads.

He thinks he might be an expert at this point.

It takes the edge off. Makes him feel less like he's going insane every time he sees James. Like he wants to eat him and not in a sexual way, not really, more like in the way wolves want to sink their teeth into the necks of rabbits. Want to snap their spines. Want to feel them go limp. Want to swallow them whole so that there's no difference anymore. Between them. Between us. I've made you part of me. Bone of my bones. Blood of my blood. Skin of my skin.

See. It's not love. Sirius doesn't know what it is but it's not that.

After a few more seconds he kicks Remus under the table, causing the other boy to look up in exasperation. But this time when their eyes meet Sirius smiles the way he knows Remus likes. Feeling his insides grow warm when Remus smiles back - even if he's a little delicate about it.

Sirius isn't in love with James Potter.

But he might be in love with Remus.

[neptuneiris]

Cruel Summer (02/10)

Paradise Beach

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader

summary: after a bad day at work, you head to the beach of your dreams, where an unexpected encounter occurs with a person who is too well known in the city and very rich.

words: 7.7k

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omg i can't believe how much you guys liked the first part! i really thought the story wouldn't get so much support (especially since i haven't finished CYPTBIL👀) but you guys again surprised me🤗 i'm very inspired with this story so i'm very happy for all the support, so enjoy this new chapter and look forward to the others!🙌🏻

thank you for reading!

warnings: none in this chapter.

You hate to see the beach dirty.

You've always had a problem with people who leave all their trash on the beach without any remorse and in full view of everyone. Many people will be embarrassed to confront them and create a fuss, but you... you defend the beach.

The first community program you see that brings people together to clean up the beach to better help the ecosystem, you're the first to sign up.

And that's the bad thing about living in Black Waves.

The beaches are not the best kept. There is dirt everywhere, the smell is horrible and really very few people make an effort to keep the beaches on this side clean.

The complete opposite on the beaches of Crown's.

This is mainly why you want to make a difference, to have clean and beautiful beaches despite the 'status' that the rich label you in the worst way.

You've seen their beaches and they are very well kept, that's true. It was clear to you when you went to that party last night and saw the white sand.

Obviously the rich people pay people for maintenance, whether they are poor people or whatever, but your people can't afford that, so they either clean it themselves or they just don't do it.

Pretty much the same goes for restaurants and venues of any kind.

Certainly the restaurant you work for is on a beachfront terrace in a luxurious and exclusive part of Crown's, the same goes for most of the restaurants in this area.

But in Black Waves the restaurants are less sophisticated, the food is fast, some are wood-framed, and there are no more than four people working there.

The places to buy clothes or basic necessities are the same, even a grocery store is inside the same house of the owners, while the rich have a huge shopping mall with brand name clothing stores, accessories, libraries, coffee shops and more refined restaurants.

They also have on their side of town large supermarkets where every fruit, vegetable or meat is triple the price of what they sell it on your side of town.

The prices are also different, clearly.

In Black Waves the dishes sold in the restaurants are affordable, while here a seafood dish costs fifty dollars.

And today especially your boss is in a bad mood, like every day, but today more so.

"Hey."

Alysanne whispers to you from the other side of the bar as you finish cleaning one of the tables and watch her almost instantly, where she takes care that your boss doesn't see you both talking.

"Daniel has texted me, he says Cregan is taking us to another one of his parties tonight," she lets you know with the clear excitement all over her contained face, "They say it's going to be great and maybe Cregan can take us up on his parents' yacht."

You let out a sigh and like her, you check to make sure Mr. Frey doesn't catch you talking in mid-shift.

"Tonight?"

"Yes," she says without removing her excitement.

"We're working double shifts today, Anne," you tell her without encouragement.

"Oh come on. We can't miss the opportunity to spend the party on a fucking yacht," she whispers excitedly to you.

"My feet are already hurting and it's not even four in the afternoon," you point out to her.

She gives you a bad look.

"Y/N," she tells you reproachfully.

"Depends on how the day goes."

"Are you serious? We must—

"You two!"

Mr. Frey's voice immediately catches your attention and Alysanne's, where you notice him already watching you both with a scowl on his face and clearly furious.

"Did I pay you to chat or to work!?"

The two of you exchange a glance and immediately turn away from each other, each returning to their respective tasks. But of course, it not only draws the attention of the two of you, but also that of some customers, and the two of you endure the humiliation of being scolded in public.

"You'd better move and I'd better not see you two chatting again or I'll pay you exactly what you deserve or send you back to your side of town."

You almost want to laugh in his face, but like any educated woman and again out of necessity, you keep quiet, as does Alysanne, but the looks you both exchange say it all.

You would like to tell him that because of the mistreatment and this kind of humiliation in public, the two of you and the other workers should be paid more, especially because you have to deal with a boss like him, but neither you nor anyone else says anything and continue working.

And precisely because you were talking to Alysanne for only a brief moment, Mr. Frey takes advantage and overloads you both with too much work for the remainder of the shift.

And that's why you definitely decide not to go to any party.

Your feet hurt, you are urged to take a bath, eat and lie in your bed, however, you are surprised to see how Alysanne has way too much energy for the hell you both had to go through and as she talk to the guys by text, the more excited she gets about going to Cregan's party.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?"

Alysanne asks you as she finishes getting ready, looking at you through the full-length mirror.

"Honestly I'd rather go to the beach to relax instead of being surrounded with music, the smell of beer, weed and teenagers getting drunk."

She gives you an amused look.

"And why don't you do that?"

"I don't have a ride and it's too late to walk."

"Cregan is coming to pick me up in his car along with the others, I'm sure he can give you a ride if you ask him."

You give her a curious and unsure look.

"Do you think he'll accept?"

"We're going to the same side of town, he'll be passing through," she nods with a nonchalant gesture.

At least you don't have to get too dressed up and you won't get tired, so you trust Alysanne and start getting ready too. Not too much like her but to look presentable.

As time goes by Cregan finally arrives with the boys making a huge fuss, excited about the party tonight. Alysanne tells them to shut up and they are lucky that your uncle and aunt haven't complained about them yet.

You give Cregan directions after asking him to please give you a ride and pretty soon everyone is inside of Crown's.

"Wait, you're not coming with us?" Sam asks you confused.

You shake your head.

"Why not?"

"I'm too tired for a party."

Chase gives you a knowing look.

"I can't believe in all this time you haven't been caught."

"It's not like I'm doing anything wrong either," you shrug.

"But the rich hate us and I bet you they'll make a huge fuss if they catch you."

"Yeah, who knows, maybe a trespass sue," Daniel agrees.

"Even knowing you don't have the money to pay for it," Chase tells you.

"Trespassing?" you repeat between amused and incredulous, "Going to sit on the edge of the beach is trespassing? Do you even know what trespassing is?"

"In any case, the rich won't like it if you get caught," Sam says making a nonchalant gesture.

You decide not to take it any further and finally arrive at your destination point, where you get out and walk over to the side of the pilot's window to see Cregan.

"Thanks for the ride."

"No problem," he smiles at you, "But the guys are right. If the owners find out about you, you can get in big trouble."

"I've been doing this for almost a year," you let him know, "I'm very sneaky."

He shakes his head with an amused smile.

"Just be careful. We'll come get you when you tell us."

"Okay," you nod, "Thanks, Cregan."

"Take care," Alysanne says to you from the passenger seat.

"Sure."

"And if the rich see you, get in the ocean and swim to the party, we'll help you there," Daniel tells you too.

You give him a look and and a not entirely convinced smile.

"Yeah, sure, very helpful."

You finally start to walk away from them as they continue to yell at you to take care of yourself, to call them in case of anything and so on, until Cregan starts up and his car begins to disappear into the distance.

And then you take action.

You look around, quickly assessing the area, making sure there are no people nearby to see you, but surprisingly this whole luxurious area of Crown's is quiet.

The only movement you notice is several cars passing by, but other than that, there are no monkeys on the shore.

There is a wall in front of you that marks the line between this private neighborhood and the houses in the same neighborhood that are even more private, since they have a huge front yard and a huge part of the beach exclusively for them.

The wall is not high, fortunately, you think it should be, but this is compensated by security guards who patrol this area and the beach from time to time.

So stealthily and in a calculated manner, once you make sure that there are no people nearby, you hide among the bushes and trees that are planted in the corner of the sidewalk to put your foot on a specific crack that you know of the wall and push yourself upward taking the edge of the wall with both hands to be able to observe the other side.

You quickly scan the entire area, making sure there are no guards patrolling nearby nor any of the people who live in the houses before jumping.

The meters of distance are considerable between the huge houses or rather mansions. There is pavement between the divisions and those divisions are exactly the way to the beach.

You put on the cap of the sweatshirt you are wearing to cover your hair and your face, since you know that all the houses must have security cameras outside, so this way you protect yourself in case of anything.

And once you make sure that there is no one outside or nearby, you gain impulse again with more strength and as fast as your feet allow you but still being careful, you place your hands on the rough edge of the wall and start to climb.

You adjust your grip more firmly on the edge and in one agile motion, you propel yourself upwards, where you feel the effort as you pull your own weight and more as you try to be fast.

Luckily you've done this many times before and when you reach the top, wasting no time and making sure no one is watching you, you quickly slide down the other side and you fall on your feet with a dry sound.

You don't take the time to rest and looking around, with adrenaline running through your veins and your heart beating too fast, you quickly advance towards the beach.

And once you are far enough away from where you managed to cross and indeed you confirm that no one saw you and everything is fine, again, you can relax.

You remove the cap from your head and let your hair free again, slowly feeling how the breeze and the wind with the salty air envelop you completely as you approach the seashore.

Easily anyone who lives here if they see you could tell that you live here too, besides the night also helps you because without so much light they can't recognize you right away.

And it is as if you are also a rich person, daughter of rich parents, being inside a private section of the beach in Crown's most exclusive area.

And as you go along, this is precisely why you take the risk of coming to this place when it is forbidden to you; the place and the view.

The sand here is perfect, clean as if no one had ever walked on it, the air is salty with no smell of anything unpleasant in specific, there are no people that could be dangerous around you and the surroundings are absolutely beautiful and clean.

Also this section has a cliff a bit secluded from all the houses, where its huge rocky wall looks absolutely beautiful and ethereal when illuminated by the night light.

You have come here many, many times and you always head to the same place, that specific pier.

The pier stretches out in front of you like a polished wooden path, leading into the deep waters of the night ocean.

Discreetly placed lights along the pier illuminate it with a soft golden glow, creating a contrast to the darkness surrounding the horizon.

The reflection of the small lamps trembles on the surface of the water, giving the place a magical and mysterious air.

The structure is impeccable, made of dark, sturdy wood, maintained with a care that only the rich can afford. There is not a single splinter out of place, not even an ill-fitting clove.

Every detail is taken care of, right down to the polished wooden benches at the end of the pier, ideal for sitting and admiring the sea in silence.

As you approach, the wooden planks creak softly under your feet, but the sound mixes with the gentle murmur of the waves, making it almost imperceptible.

And when you reach the end, you can see a large yacht moored at the side of the dock, with it's deluxe cover and it's name painted in gold and silver lettering.

You have no idea which rich family it might belong to, but you know this is just one of many they must have. It wasn't here the last time you came here and fortunately it doesn't obstruct the view.

You take a seat on the wooden bench and letting out a big breath, you watch as the full moon reflects off the ocean, it's silvery sparkles dancing on the water in hypnotic movements.

This is why you love coming here, even in this way, because the fresh, salty night air fills your lungs with every inhalation.

And just for an instant, you feel freer than ever in this space that is not supposed to belong to you.

Besides you not only enjoy seeing the moon, but also the stars, shining brightly and adorning the entire night sky. And you can rest easy, because there is no danger on this side of town.

You've been enduring a lot at work lately, taking a lot of strain on your shoulders from double shifts and stressing over the slightest thing, but coming here and being here gives you that much needed quiet time.

And only this place can offer you that; peace and tranquility.

You don't know exactly how much time passes but you find yourself in the same position, not getting bored and enjoying the view, wishing time would freeze so you could continue to enjoy this without worries.

You think that Alysanne and the guys must be having fun too, but for tonight this is all the fun you need.

Suddenly your phone vibrates next to you and the screen lights up as a new notification comes in. You casually pick it up and see a new message, and it's from Alysanne.

It's a selfie of her with the guys, all happy, laughing, smiling, beer bottles in hand and with the sea and yachts in the background completing the scene.

You let out a small laugh as you see Sam's euphoric face, Daniel and Chase's funny faces, and Cregan and Alysanne's smiling faces.

"Excuse me?"

Your whole body reacts and jumps instantly from shock and you look quickly and sharply behind you with all the panic on your face, definitely not expecting what you see.

Aemond Targaryen.

Shit.

It's the first thing that comes to your mind as you quickly jump to your feet, your heart beating too fast and your hands starting to shake.

That's when you know that the moment has finally come where you're caught and you're in big trouble.

Aemond watches you with a serious and attentive face, analyzing you completely. And you feel completely small when his eyes look at you with confusion and distrust, but challenging.

He clearly has no idea what are you doing here and maintains a defensive posture.

And you definitely feel like a thief who's just been caught in the act.

"What are you doing here?"

Oh God.

You think in terror.

How come you didn't hear him coming? The boards creak with the weight when someone walks and you couldn't hear anything?

You think that you should have been more attentive, that you shouldn't have let your guard down, because it's not possible that you really were so distracted and in your own world that you didn't hear him coming. 

But with him already here, watching you in a bad way, looking cold and suspicious, that you don't have time to scold yourself or think about it.

"I-I..." you stammer, in a shaky voice, not having the slightest idea what to say, very nervous and scared.

All you can feel is a lump in your throat, an irregular throbbing in your chest and the overwhelming weight of his gaze on you.

He doesn't look away and his serious face doesn't change, clearly waiting for an answer.

As you watch him examine you, you watch as he runs his gaze up and down you, trying to decipher who you are. And it doesn't take him long to come to an obvious conclusion, because he instantly knows that you are not like him.  

By your clothes and your old sandals, everything about you gives away that you don't belong here. Besides, he doesn't recognize you from among the other Crown's families to be able to say that you belong to one of them.

He knows you're not from around here.

"I asked you a question," he demands you in a bad way and with a harsher tone, walking towards you, "What are you doing here?"

You feel a shiver run down your back as you swallow hard, but the words just won't come out.

You're paralyzed, terrified, stuck, because you have no idea what to say and you're still processing that this is really happening. 

You know you don't have any good excuses and he's impatient, waiting for an answer that really won't be convincing to be the truth.

"I will call security for invasion of private property," he warns you firmly, clearly beginning to lose patience.

The danger in his words makes the fear hit you even harder and you finally react in panic.       

"No, no, please," you finally manage to say, worried and raising one of your hands to him in supplication, "I-I… I'm not doing anything wrong, I swear," you raise both hands in surrender, trembling.

He inspects you more closely with a piercing gaze, trying to find something, anything, to tell him what you are really doing here or what you are trying to do, watching between you and his family's yacht anchored to the dock.

His posture remains tense, ready to act if he finds anything out of place. 

He thinks that maybe you are doing something with the yacht, but he sees it in perfect condition, with nothing strange and nothing out of the ordinary, as the rope that ties it to the dock is without problems.

But he still continues to watch you seriously, defensively and suspiciously.

"Shit," you mutter under your breath, lowering your gaze, embarrassed and terrified, "This has never happened before," you say, reproaching yourself for the mess you've gotten yourself into.

But he hears you perfectly, and his frown deepens.

"Before?" he queries you.      

You close your eyes tightly, cursing yourself internally for having said that, to again look at him pleadingly and in desperation wanting to prove to him that you really aren't doing anything wrong.

"I swear I—

"Hello!?"

The unexpected voice makes you jump again from surprise and you watch with your eyes wide open behind Aemond as one of the security guards enters the dock, his flashlight illuminating the way.

Your heart beats with such force that it seems to thunder in your ears, as panic engulfs you completely. 

And without thinking too much, you move quickly, hiding behind a huge wooden box, taking advantage of the pole supporting the roof at the end of the pier and some scattered chairs. 

You crouch down, trying to make yourself as small as possible, but desperation gives you away with every move.

This definitely ends up completely confusing Aemond, not expecting that reaction and movement from you at all.      

And you watch him from your hiding place with all the pleading and forgiveness in your eyes, silently begging him not to say anything, not to give you away.

But he turns his gaze to the guard who ends up coming closer.

"Are you all right son?"

Your heart stops momentarily and you watch him in terrified silence, simply waiting for the worst. 

But even to have his whole look serious and not showing much reaction, you watch as hesitation appears for a moment and he falters in his words, as if he doesn't know exactly what to say, until he does.

"Yes," he finally says, "I'm all right."

The guard, seemingly satisfied with the answer, nods, but doesn't leave.     

"The Baratheon's reported a break-in in their backyard a few days ago," he says and you listen carefully, still waiting for the moment with fear and concern, "Nothing serious, apparently just clothes and some decorations. I'm just patrolling to make sure everything is in order."

Your breathing quickens as you listen to every word and Aemond continues to watch the guard, when suddenly he shoots you a quick glance, his eyes reflecting a mixture of seriousness and indecision. 

"Yes, so I hear," he says.

"Are you alone, son? I thought I saw someone else here."

Fuck.

Your stomach sinks and you close your eyes tightly, then watch in terror for the moment when Aemond will finally speak and give you away.

But you see the hesitation in his gaze again, you also watch intently as he opens and closes his mouth a few times, failing to say anything.    

When suddenly you see him let out a long breath and slyly give you a look with his serious face, then lick his lips and press them together in resignation.

"Yes, I'm alone."

As soon as Aemond utters those words, a wave of relief sweeps through your body. But almost instantly you stare at him in complete shock, unable to believe it. 

He really just covered you in front of the guard. He didn't really give you away even when he had every reason to do so.

Your hands are still shaking, but you slowly feel the adrenaline and anguish start to subside. 

"Well, we'll be around if you need anything. Good night, son." 

Aemond nods in his direction.

"Yes, thank you. Good night."  

You stand still for a few more moments, listening to his footsteps fade into the distance until finally there is no more noise. Just the sound of the water against the dock and the night wind on the waves.

You take a deep breath and slowly, you sit up, emerging from your hiding place with your hands still shaking. 

Your eyes meet those of Aemond, who is still standing, watching you with that penetrating gaze that seems to be able to read all your deepest thoughts. 

You don't know exactly what to say to him, you're still surprised and don't understand why he saved you, but the words come out on their own, grateful and fearful.

"Thank you," you murmur apologetically but with all the sincerity in your gaze, "Thank you for not saying anything."

He doesn't say anything to you, which confuses you even more, he just keeps standing there watching you, with his usual hard-to-read expression.     

“I-I..." you stammer, biting your lips and lowering your gaze for a moment, still feeling nervous, "I really wasn't doing anything wrong. I wasn't stealing or harming or anything like that, truly," you tell him honestly.

Again, he says nothing. He doesn't move either. He just stands there, with both hands tucked inside his front pockets of his shorts and still watching you with utmost attention that makes you feel incredibly nervous, even more so due to the circumstances.

You are also surprised that he is not kicking you out and threatening not to come back here. 

You honestly don't understand his behavior and the fact that he saved you from the guard, but for whatever reason, you thank him or you would have been in big trouble.

So cautiously, you take a step towards the entrance and exit of the pier.        

"And I'm sorry. You won't see me around here again. I really don't want to cause trouble," you add, watching him warily and wanting to make clear the promise in your words, "I'll leave now," you say quietly.

And having nothing more to say, you turn around, ready to run away if necessary, but you barely take two steps when surprisingly his voice stops you.

"What were you doing here?" he asks for the fifth time all night, his tone just as accusing but now with a curious tone. 

You stand still, not knowing exactly how to respond. 

But you know you have two choices: lie or tell the truth. And for some reason, you feel you can't lie to him; Aemond Targaryen.

Aside from belonging to the wealthiest, most prestigious and powerful family in Sunset's and the entire country, with his father being Viserys Targaryen himself and being one of the heirs to his entire fortune, he seems to be someone who seems to have the innate ability to detect falsehood.

That's why you don't understand why he saved you, a poor girl who doesn't belong to his world and probably never will, but still, you decide to be honest.       

Anyway, you're already stuck here and as crazy as it sounds, you owe Aemond Targaryen one.

"I was just... looking for some peace and quiet," you confess, turning your body to once again look at him, "I had a bad day and coming here..." you look around with a wistful look, "It helps me."

Aemond tilts his head, frowning slightly and biting the inside of his cheek, inspecting you. 

"And you can't do that on the beach on your side of town?" he asks you with a tone of disbelief.

You sigh, feeling a twinge of frustration as you think about the answer. It's a reasonable question, but the answer is not so simple. 

"Not really," you reply, lowering your gaze for a moment and biting your lips in nervousness, "Surely you know it's not the same at Black Waves."

He shakes his head slightly.

"I've never been there."

You almost look at him with an obvious look, almost, but you end up nodding, since of course he's never been to your side of town when he lives here.   

"The smell of the beach there is not so nice. They are not as clean as these, there is dirt and being there alone in the middle of the night is dangerous," you explain.

And everything you say is true, which is why you decide to come here.

And he looks at you, clearly digesting your words, saying nothing for a few moments, as is becoming usual between the two of you.

You think that maybe for him, someone who has lived surrounded by luxury all his life, it is somewhat difficult to imagine such a different reality. But it is also no secret how the people of Black Waves live.

So you don't understand his silence or even his behavior, but what you do see in him, surprisingly... is that he doesn't judge you.

You would have expected the face of disgust instantly like any spoiled child of rich parents and also that he would tell you to leave now with that posture and superficial look.

But nothing.       

Aemond Targaryen doesn't really reflect anything with his eyes. Unless he's judging you and giving you those looks of disgust in his mind.

But, strangely, he doesn't make you feel any less.

"And coming here... it's like my paradise, for the peace and quiet," you conclude in a low murmur.

Again... he doesn't say anything.

And that begins to frustrate you.

He just watches you, as if he's evaluating every word, every gesture and every detail in you. 

And you silently think to yourself that he probably doesn't say anything because he really wants you to leave, to leave him alone and never come back here.

So you try to leave again, because you've caused enough trouble and you can't risk staying.   

However, just as you prepare to say goodbye and apologize, again, he interrupts you.

"Since when do you come here?" he asks with a tone that reveals a mild interest you weren't expecting.

Inevitably your nerves run through you again and you swallow hard, having no idea whether this interrogation is good or bad, but you still decide to be honest to avoid as much trouble as you can.

"Last year," you confess apologetically.

He raises his eyebrows slightly.

"And no one had caught you until now?"

"It's just that I don't come here much, I promise," you say instantly, sincere, "Like I told you I only come when I really need to... when I want peace and quiet. And I don't do anything but sit around and watch the ocean, that's all."

He nods slowly, again processing your words. 

And you don't know it but to Aemond... there seems to be something about you, something about the way you talk or maybe that you're a Black Waves girl, that keeps him interested.

His blue eyes, cold but curious, fix on yours, as if he wants to see beyond the words, as if he's looking for some kind of hidden truth.    

The silence that follows feels interminable and finally, he with his relaxed but dominant posture, takes his hands out of his pockets and turns around, resting his arms on one of the railings of the pier. 

He stares off into the horizon with that serious look that tells you nothing and you just stand there, wondering if you should still leave or what you should do, since you don't understand anything.

"You can stay," he says suddenly, his voice low but firm.

You frown and stare at him completely confused, having no idea if you heard right or not.

"What?"

"You can stay," he repeats, not watching you.

You blink, watching him in shock, now being the one processing his words, not really understanding anything but feeling completely surprised by his offer.      

You didn't expect this. Not at all.

And at that moment comes the distrust in you, as it can't be too good to be real.

"Are you sure? I mean..." you watch him uncertainly, "Maybe you want to be alone," you shrug.

You watch as he sits up and starts pulling something out of his pockets, which ends up being a lighter and a pack of cigarettes.

And without looking at you, he shakes his head.

"I'm fine," he tells you carelessly, taking a cigarette and starting to light it.

You watch him curiously, not understanding why he's being this way with you... so strangely kind. And that without knowing where it comes from, you begin to like him.

"And you're really not going to give me away? This isn't... I don't know," you shrug, "Like some kind of trap?"    

You watch as he takes a drag and blows out the smoke, putting the lighter and the pack back in his pocket.

"No," he says serious and almost annoyed, so you decide not to question him anymore, as strange as this is, "If you want to stay that's fine, if not you can leave too. Just do what you want, if I wanted to give you away, I would have done it already."

You remain silent, processing his words. You frown and watch him as he takes another drag and then the smoke rising to dissipate in the cool night air.

There is something about his posture, the casual way he holds his cigarette, that disconcerts you and catches your attention.

He doesn't seem like the kind of person who would let someone like you just hang around, much less in a place that is clearly his, or at least his family's.

So you feel unsure how to interpret all of this.

So you continue to stand, still waiting for some sign that you should leave, but he gives you none. Instead, he just looks off into the horizon, where the water meets the dark sky, lit only by the moon and stars.

And the truth is, you don't know what to do.

The prospect of staying there, with him, someone you barely really know and who could give you away at any moment, still makes you nervous.

However, you are also intrigued by this strange friendliness he is showing.

So you decide to stay, so you again take a seat on the edge of the wood with carefree movements, your feet dipping into the shimmering water beyond.

You give him a brief glance, unsure if he'll sit down too or if he'll just leave. But to your surprise, he stands beside you, silently smoking and not watching you.

It's not warm or comforting company, but somehow, the stillness you both share is more soothing than uncomfortable.

And so the minutes pass and the sound of the water, soft and rhythmic, begins to soothe you again. The cool night air makes the anxiety in your chest slowly dissipate, as does the tension in your shoulders.

And with each passing of time, you realize that nothing bad will really happen by being here with him. And you also realize that Aemond Targaryen is maybe not arrogant and shallow like the others.

He hasn't even been mean to you and hasn't judged you, so that's why you decide to start a conversation.

"Why are you here?" you decide to ask, without looking him and simply moving the waters gently with your feet, focusing on that.

The question floats in the air between you, and for a moment, you think he won't answer you, since maybe he told you that you can stay but it doesn't mean you should talk to him.

But then you hear him move, his weight making a slight creak in the wood.

"Same as you," he finally replies, though his tone is less curt this time, "Looking for peace and quiet."

You're instantly taken aback by his honesty and also by his response, definitely not expecting that, so you frown and look at him confused.

"Really?"

He watches you and his gaze instantly paralyzes you, watching as he watches you just as confused but this time defensively at your reaction.

"Why is that so incredible to believe?"

You bite your lips and avert your gaze, thinking very hard about your next words, as you shrug and watch him again.

"Well... I'm just thinking why a person who has everything and certainly lacks nothing would come here... looking for peace and quiet," you explain with genuine curiosity.

He lets out a snort, with a bitter look on his face as he brings the cigarette back to his lips.

"Neither you nor anyone else knows everything about me and my family," he says with an unexpected harshness in his tone.

You remain silent, surprised by the frankness of his response and avert your gaze to the horizon.

You feel a slight discomfort that you didn't expect and it's not because of what he said, but how he said it, so serious and distant.

But maybe he's right.

All families at Crown's are characterized by more than just money, power and status, and that's appearance.

The rich probably think they know everything among themselves, but your people see a little more reality and you know that behind that perfect facade there are secrets, tensions and burdens.

And the Targaryen's are no exception. Even Cregan has hinted at it many times, with his wry, half-joking comments about the lives of wealthy families.

The moment between the two and the conversation seems on the verge of becoming awkward again.

And just when you think the talk is over, Aemond takes another drag and, surprising you, looks sideways at you with a cool but questioning expression.

"And what happened to you?" he asks you suddenly, changing the subject.

"Hm?" you observe him attentively and confused.

"Why did you have a bad day?" he repeats just as calmly, but this time, with a casual, carefree tone.

"Oh," you murmur, turning your eyes back to the horizon.

You didn't expect him to be interested in something so personal. But since he asked, you decide to be honest.

"Well, apparently my boss hates me and made me work double shifts today," you explain, letting out a sigh. "It's stressful enough to put up with his bad treatment and workload, but I also had to deal with a lot of rude customers."

His gaze remains fixed on you, as if processing what you just said. Then he goes back to staring at the horizon with a disinterested look and takes another drag on his cigarette.

"Sounds like shit," he finally says, his tone dry but without a hint of empathy.

"Yeah, it is," you reply, letting out a bitter little laugh, "But it is what it is."

He nods slightly and suddenly, the distance you felt between the two of you seems to diminish a bit.

Aemond isn't as unapproachable as you thought, and though you still don't quite understand why he's acting this way, you begin to see that maybe, just maybe, there's more to him than meets the eye.

You stare out at the water in silence, the sound of the waves lapping gently against the pier pilings filling the air.

And you are surprised by how normal this situation is.

You mean, who would have thought? You, a poor girl from Black Waves and him, the heir to one of the most powerful families in the region, sharing a night on the dock as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

You don't understand anything but... you like him.

"I've never seen you before," he murmurs after a while, his eyes focused on the horizon, "Nor do I know your name."

You stare at him incredulously and let out a small chuckle under your breath.

"I think we both know why," you say knowingly, "It's not like our paths cross very often. And my name is Y/N, Y/N Blackwood," you introduce yourself in a soft tone.

He falls silent, seemingly memorizing your name and within a few seconds, however, he doesn't seem convinced of the other.

"I don't know. I know everyone in town, even if not directly."

You frown slightly.

"That sounds... exhausting."

"It's part of the family, knowing everyone. Knowing who's around you, even if you don't deal with them," he explains, "But I had never seen you."

"Well... I've lived at Sunset's for a year now with my aunt, uncle and my cousin," you explain, relaxing a little more as you see the conversation flowing smoothly, "And before the summer started, I started working at Mr. Frey's restaurant to save up for college in a few more months."

He turns his whole body toward you, still standing and leaning against the pole holding up the roof at the end of the pier, glancing at you from time to time but keeping more of his focus on the horizon.

"Your aunt and uncle?" he asks, "Why don't you live with your parents?"

That question takes you by surprise, and for a moment you don't know what to say. It's obviously a personal question and you weren't expecting it at all.

Then you look at him, where his eyes are serious and inquisitive towards you, although you don't perceive any bad intentions, just a curiosity.

"I guess I don't know if I should tell you that," you say with a small smile and amused tone, trying to downplay it and not make the moment awkward, "You know... trusting one of your own kind."

He lets out a slight chuckle, making you smile a little wider.

"My kind?"

You shrug.

"Yeah, you know... a rich one."

"And what makes you think you can't trust me? I didn't give you away a while ago, did I?"

"And why did you?" you ask, unable to contain your curiosity seizing on the comment, "Why didn't you give me away?"

He lets out a long breath and takes another drag before answering, his voice low but steady.

"I don't know, maybe because you were honest."

"But you're not like that, no one in your class is empathetic and forgiving."

"Do you really think you know everything about me and my family?" he questions you again.

You look at him obviously and incredulously.

"Please, everyone in this place knows everything about you and your family. Even the poor people. You're like the royalty of the city, after all."

You see the slight annoyance on his face, making it clear that he's in total disagreement with you, and you make up your mind to prove your point.

"I mean..." you sigh, "You are known as your father's son who has a perfect life just like your siblings, heirs to a wealthy and powerful family. The Targaryen's are known for that, work, money, power and status... or am I wrong?"

He doesn't respond right away, just watches you with an intensity that makes you feel a little vulnerable.

And just when you think he'll finally let his true self out and he's exactly like the other rich kids, he surprisingly lets out a sigh and looks down at the water, with an almost resigned look on his face.

"Yeah, but it's not all as simple and wonderful as it seems. It's not the whole truth either."

Those words leave you thinking. And they also leave you watching... him.

At the previous party, you couldn't see much of him from afar, let alone being on the second floor of a huge yacht. But he is... captivating.

You trace the shape of his nose and the structures of his cheeks with your gaze, watching as if it were a slow-motion movie as he lifts his cigarette to his lips and raises his gaze to the sky to expel the smoke, marking the bone in his neck.

His silver hair shimmers slightly in the moonlight and makes him look like some sort of ancient Greek God, where you silently admire the handsome features of his face.

You can't see his eyes in detail because of the light, but you know they are blue, characteristic of the Targaryen along with the platinum hair.

And then you wonder, what else is behind that facade his family has so meticulously constructed for him?

Who is Aemond Targaryen truly?

The night continues as the two of you stand there, sharing the space, the air, the silence. There is no need for more words for now, it's just enjoying the little shelter in this corner with him.

And after a while, you decide that maybe it's time to leave.

"Well... I guess I should be going," you mutter, starting to get up, then looking around the perimeter one last time, etching the image in your memory, "I'm going to miss this place."

He turns with slow, nonchalant movements toward you, dropping what little is left of the cigarette to crush it with the sole of his tennis shoe.

"What do you mean?" he asks, with that calmness that always seems to surround him.

You look at him in confusion, then shrug, letting out a small, resigned laugh.

"Obviously I can't come back here now that you've caught me," you tell him with a sad little smile, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear from the wind, turning around, "Oh and..." you look back at him, "Thanks for not give me away, seriously."

You give him a look and a small grateful smile, as he keeps his expression hard to read, as usual, but totally focused on you.

Neither of you say anything else and assuming this is the final goodbye, you start walking towards the dock exit. But then you hear his voice behind you.

"Wait."

And that's what you do.

Confused, you turn to watch him again, watching as he takes a step forward.

"You can come back if you want," he says to you suddenly, in a tone of voice that is soft, but also mixes indifference and something else that you don't quite manage to identify, "Just... make sure no one else catches you."

That definitely takes you by surprise, since you weren't expecting it. And you watch him silently for a moment, trying to read his expression, but he remains as enigmatic as ever.

However, there is an unexpected sincerity in his words that makes you smile, this time with more warmth.

"Really?" you ask, unable to hide the disbelief and excitement in your voice.

He nods, folding his arms, saying nothing.

"Thank you," you reply, and this time you say it more firmly and with happiness in your eyes.

You lower your gaze and resist the urge to smile big, feeling a strange sensation in your stomach, to again watch him.

"Bye, Aemond."

You take a step back and turn around, when again he stops you as he speaks.

"You're going home alone?" he asks, this time with a little more interest in his voice.

You laugh softly, surprised that he cares, not really understanding anything but liking it.

"You know? We poor people have a good thing after all... survival style."

He doesn't say anything to you, just watches you with his piercing colored eyes as he licks his lips and then simply gives you a small nod.

You don't say anything else either and finally turn to leave, beginning to leave the tranquility of the dock and him behind, under the dim lights of the night.

And as you walk away, you feel the sea breeze on your face and wonder how a night that began with tension and fear ended with something as unexpected as a truce with Aemond Targaryen.

series taglist:

@zenka69 @strangersunghoon @deliaseastar @thefireblaze @kythefangirl25 @p45510n4f4shi0n @saturnssrings @bellaisasleep @primroseluna @tinykryptonitewerewolf @barnes70stark @tssf-imagines

[ironinkpen]

The interpretation of Rise Raph as a 'perfect responsible soft boy uwu' is so BORING I'm sorry, Raph is a rowdy adrenaline junkie with anxiety and I won't take this slander any longer

Raph secretly kept an enemy soldier in their actual literal house as a sparring partner. Raph glued his brothers together and dragged them out to fight crime. Raph once asked Leo to punch him in the face to prove he 'takes damage like a boss.' Raph tried to lift a school bus, twice. Raph offered to help his favorite wrestler beat his little brother up. When Leo suggests evacuating Bullhop, Raph says no bc the best defense is a good offense babey. Raph's idea of a 'friendly chat' with April's upstairs neighbor is to put on a black ski mask and go stand menacingly at their door. It takes Raph 10 episodes to conclude that they should MAYBE start training. Raph's plan to get a potentially priceless (and potentially FRAGILE) museum artifact is to punch a car in the middle of a busy street and also cut it in half with his brother still inside.

Raph's never met a problem he wouldn't try to punch in the face and does not know the meaning of the words 'excessive force.' He roughhouses with his bros and drags them out to fight villains and thinks any plan that doesn't involve an all-out brawl is boring and lame. He'll do anything to protect his family from harm and be a hero, but also he eats wet salami off the floor and once single-handedly destroyed a library.

I just adore how, at his core, Rise Raph is such a classic Raph—impulsive and stubborn and caring and passionate. He is a very sweet, strong, honorable guy who has a very powerful sense of personal responsibility... and he is also the exact kind of jock who throws you in the pool at a party without checking if you have your phone in your pocket first.

[astrstqr]

☆˙˖ DESIRED REALITY !

things i script for my modern dr. lmk if you want more

⬭ racism, homophobia, ableism, transphobia, islamophobia, anti semitism, misogyny, global warming, climate change, overconsumption, overpopulation, deforestation, habitat destruction etc., used to exist, however they currently do not and will never suffer from them again.

⬭ everyone is treated equal

⬭ no “pro-life”

⬭ people are allowed to have abortions no matter what age they are

⬭ women products are free such as pads/tampons and birth control

⬭ everyone is educated on problems happening around the world

⬭ health care is free

⬭ natives are seen as the founders of America

⬭ south, west, southeast, & central Asians are seen too + people know Asia is not just the east

⬭ having guns are illegal unless your job requires you to have one and there is no other way to get a gun

⬭ periods last a day and are very light

⬭ covid-19 doesn’t exist

⬭ plastic surgery is normalized , isnt look down on but people rarely gets it unless necessary

⬭ children of any age are not sexualized in any form or shape

⬭ in public bathrooms the toilet is always clean, people don't knock on the stall you are in, there is always toilet paper, always soap and a hand dryer

⬭ the Chinese government isn't so harsh & gives the citizens freedom

⬭ people of color’s cultures are RESPECTED, & not appropriated

⬭ foster care takes treats kids nicely

⬭ nobody harms animals and kill shelters are not a thing

⬭ all country leaders are good and honest people

⬭ human trafficking does not exist

⬭ the government never watches you through your phone

⬭ trump never ran for president

⬭ no world hungers

⬭ no one is homeless, and everyone has a home

⬭ world peace

⬭ women and men are equal

⬭ it’s easy for people to make money

⬭ all sickness has a cure

⬭ bullying does not exist

⬭ black history and pride month still exist

⬭ the government isn't greedy and take care of their people

⬭ every country has money, food, isnt poor, etc. etc.

⬭ no toxic parenting

⬭ the Sewol ferry never had an accident

⬭ school shooting doesn’t exist

⬭ minimum wage is $15-$20 an hour

⬭ crimes are punished with justice in mind

⬭ history is recorded correctly

⬭ people can start driving at 15

⬭ Korea is not conservative

⬭ Korea doesn’t have an unrealistic beauty standard

⬭ Korea never divided, it is united and free. But south of korea is like the city part and the north is like rural part

⬭ pollution does not exist

⬭ earth air is clean and easy to breathe no matter where you are

⬭ no acid rain, urban sprawl, ozone layer depletion

⬭ allergies do not exist

⬭ the world is more colorful and not dull looking

⬭ coral reef still has it color

⬭ no water in unwanted places

⬭ grass is always green

⬭ if the population increases the planet gets bigger to produce resources to accommodate the growing population. it doesnt effect the mass of the earth or the gravitational pull

⬭ global warming doesn't exist

⬭ humidity doesn't ruin hair

⬭ the library of alexandria was never destroyed

⬭ apple pencils work on iPhone

⬭ everything is wireless, and nothing needs a cord

⬭ line is always short in stores and restaurants

⬭ buildings and renovating don’t take longer than a wee

⬭ you can book a hotel with being 18 or older

⬭ traffic is always fine

⬭ netflix have more of a large selection of things and dont remove shows/add shows no one wants

⬭ spotify is free

⬭ the switch have a web browser

⬭ tv companies still make tv shows similar to the 2000s and early 2010s , just updated to keep up with the times

⬭ the sims franchise lore is linear throughout the series

the open world features from sims 3 is still present in sims 4

sims 4 is like an updated and better version of sims 3 keeping all the features from the sims 3 (still including everything that is already in sims 4)

non of the games have bugs

every expansion pack etc is just added to the game as an update and no one has to pay for it

⬭ cheap jewelry doesnt tarnish

⬭ washer/dryer cycles are 15 mins

⬭ in the show dancing dolls everyone was treated equally and was never fake to each other.

⬭ people actually do the theme for the met gala and it’s always unique

୨୧⠀˙⠀⠀˖⠀ world aesthetic & vibe

[oopsdevil]

COD + AUs

which alternative universe they would fit in (f!reader)

SIMON GHOST RILEY + APOCALYPSE!AU

(full fic here)

in another lifetime, the worldwide zombie apocalypse saved simon's life. with no one to fight for, simon felt like himself for the first time. a world where hiding his face is the last of everyone else's worries, a world where he gets to be violent for a good reason against those flesh eating things, a world where he gets to live without needing anyone. that until he met you. if anyone told him he would end up surviving the streets of manchester with a girl half his height and a backpack bigger than her, whose first words to him where "what's with the skull?", he would have laughed. but here he is, watching you go crazy at an old, dark clothing store, forgetting for a second that the world around you is dying. simon didn't care before, but now reminds himself the reason he wants to keep going, is you.

SIMON GHOST RILEY + TATTOO ARTIST!AU

in another lifetime, simon gets to combine his favorite things and make a living out of it; pain, art and ink. gotta admit, it was intimidating meeting him for the first time. 6'2, quiet, blonde, heavy accent, covered in tattoos and attached to his black surgical mask. surprisingly, he is a very patient tattoo artist. the fact that he understands the significance behind your tattoo, or that you need breaks, or that he offers you water many times, makes you go back to him for more ink. you remember the first time he took his mask off, with a couple scars around his face and a killing smirk, simon asked you out on the best date he could think of; hanging around his station while he tattoos strangers. or how you call it now, years after that first date, saturday afternoon.

KYLE GAZ GARRICK + COLLEGE!AU

in another lifetime, kyle persuaded his talent in history knowledge. top of his class and with intact kindness (even after meeting very pretentious and competitive classmates), kyle offers his help to the girl in the library who doesn't seem to understand what the hell her book's about. you both knew, the second you locked eyes. not gonna lie, he makes your college experience better just by existing. yes, you stay up all night studying and fail to answer his calls. but he knows you, and he is outside your dorm at 3 a.m with the best pizza on campus. and yes, he will wait outside class when you take your final exam. and yes, he always knew he wanted to marry you, but waits until you get your degree to propose.

KYLE GAZ GARRICK + PRIVATE DETECTIVE!AU

in another lifetime, the sense of justice got to kyle in a cold, cheap apartment in the city, and working at night. he got really confused when a girl with kind eyes like yours approached him for his services. used to working with cheating men and sketchy women, kyle begged for you to drop whatever weird problem your boss got himself into, is really not you business, but he respects your contribution to the employees your boss is basically robbing. he really didn't expect to get so attached to a case, even less to a client. but there you are, sleeping on his bed after many nights protecting you, after you didn't drop it. you couldn't, and it made him fall in love with you even harder. he felt his heart go soft and his stiff shoulders drop when you grabbed his arm in your sleep. kyle always protected himself, but after finding you, he has new priorities. he also never considered himself impulsive, but look at him now, living in a new warm city with his lifesavings in a backpack and your hand in his.

JOHN SOAP MACTAVISH + SOULMATES!AU

in another lifetime, johnny checks the mark in everybody's wrist, hoping one will match his. his is rather particular, and earned his nickname since childhood, a small but obvious mark shaped as a soap. turning 30 (and hiding it with humor) soaps heart breaks a little more when he realizes he hasn't shared the first thirty years of his life with his soulmate, the one who at this point, john doubts even exists. he takes a walk around the streets of glasgow to clear his head, and walks into a coffee shop. he reaches for his cup in the multitude, and hears from the barista something he heard his entire life "your mark looks like a soap! how funny". his stomach dropped when a girl next to him goes "yeah, i know". it took him a second, but he looked. and yeah, he burned his hand with his coffee when he introduced himself, and got embarrassed when the entire staff realized a couple of soulmates met at their shop, but johnny's coffee never tasted better knowing that was his last birthday alone.

JOHN SOAP MACTAVISH + BOXER!AU

in another lifetime, a cocky boxer winked your way in the middle of his fight, and your face got red like the blood in his gloves. your friends warned you, what can an amateur boxer with a mohawk offer to you? surprisingly, a lot. when he's with you, he isn't the soap mactavish, just johnny. johnny, who looks handsome even with a black eye when he asks you out for breakfast. johnny, who is bulking and eats like an animal on your first date, but god, he is so charming. your johnny, who runs every morning and comes back with a hot coffee for you, and accepts the fact that sometimes you can't watch his fights. johnny, who thought fighting was all he was good for, but gained so much peace when he met you. with ups and downs, he is convinced that having a reason to fight for is the reason he won the championship.

KÖNIG + BODYGUARD!AU

in another lifetime, you yelped when you woke up to a 6'4 man in your kitchen, wearing a suit and a intimidating black hood. he is not surprised by the reaction. being the bodyguard for a girl who saw too much is not his ideal job, but you became so much more. so brave and witty. he is obsessed with the way you aren't scared of him in the slightest. könig swore to protect you by a contract, but it became his whole life. no longer a job, but his reason. the nicknames that slipped out when the situation became to much for you, and the time he saw a suspicious face and had a hand on your hip the rest of the night. but you falling asleep in his shoulder after a storm was it for him, he had to tell you he loved you. but könig's heart breaks when his contract is over and you are officially safe. after a long, heavy fight about your "relationship", könig confesses he can't sleep now that he is not around you, that he needs to make sure you are safe, forever. and fuck, the kiss he gave you. könig swore to protect you by a contract, but met the other half his cold heart never knew he needed.

KÖNIG + GROUP THERAPY!AU

in another lifetime, könig healed in so many ways. its hard to take this much time off work at mid thirties for any human, but imagine for a soldier. the only condition favor his superior asked was "please, go to therapy". very skeptical, könig tried a place where the attention wasn't always on him, group therapy. talking isn't his favorite, but he met amazing people, and yeah, he wasn't in the best place to meet the love of his life, but how can you not look at that beautiful girl who picks up her marine dad from therapy? after very hard months talking about things he swore to never think about again, you were there for him the entire time. könig healed in so many ways. könig cried for the first time in decades when he left you, thinking he is too broken for you. könig asked for forgiveness for the first time in decades when he got you back. könig giggled for the first time in decades when your dad caught you two making out in your porch (and boy, did your dad make him run home). könig went back to his job about a year later, and became the best soldier he ever was. the talk of the base is now how the colonel keeps recommending therapy to everyone.

JOHN PRICE + LAWYER FIRM!AU

in another lifetime, john price is a fucking asshole. or so everyone thinks. you have never felt this nervous about a job interview, and by that cold look mr. price gave you, you were sure he would hire another secretary. but maybe his eyes are just like that, because why else would you be taking the bus at 7 a.m in these clothes? you hear it all over the building, mr. price can be difficult, serious, boring. but they never danced to head over heels by tears for tears in his office while barefoot. they never ate chinese food totally sleep deprived while going over a case over and over. john never grabbed their hand while walking the busy streets of london in that suit he looks way too good in. john's reputation really changed through the years. "he went soft when he met his sweetheart at work". he laughs, no one who ever saw him in a courtroom would call him soft.

JOHN PRICE + ARRANGED MARRIAGE!AU

in another lifetime... john is difficult. you get it. he is an important man, a business man. a man who has no time to meet women, specially a wife. everything in his life is a transaction, including his business partner's sister. you two got married at a small ceremony and he didn't even kiss you. it took him 5 months to sleep in the same bed as you, and thats when it all started. that night john made sure you knew he didn't hate you, he was trying to give you space. but you don't want space, you want to peel all those layers and really get to know him. now you know why he is the big man, one of a kind. who knew a man so brilliant and cold could be so... him. john. protective, faithful, touch-starved, sweet-tooth, the smiths enthusiast, twin girls dad, belly laugher john.

[themiddleofmichigan]

As a math major, I am simply enchanted by the idea of Neil Josten, Math Major. Please enjoy this collection of headcanons I came up with to cope with studying mathematics.

Neil is a pure math guy. There are two big camps of mathematics: pure and applied. Applied math is about applying math to other fields (physics, engineering, finance, etc.), while pure math is like math for the sake of doing math (read: a lot less employable). Neil picking the math major because he's good at math and kind of likes it is a very Pure Math thing to do.

Neil has a whiteboard, possibly multiple whiteboards. Whiteboards are the ultimate tool of mathematics. Sometimes Neil gets stuck on a problem for hours; hunched over his mini whiteboard, working through it over and over again. His fingers get covered in the expo marker residue and it leaves a black mark when he scratches his nose. Andrew huffs that he looks like a chimney sweep and rubs it off with his sleeve (he absolutely does NOT find it adorable, shut up, Nicky). Also, around exams Neil will drag Andrew to the library so he can do his practice problems on the Big Whiteboards. The other people in the library stare at them because this little ginger is filling multiple whiteboards with weird symbols and greek letters; Neil doesn't notice because he's oblivious, Andrew notices and it makes him a smug bf.

One time one of the Foxes asks him for help with their statistics homework and he gives it a shot, because how different could it be? They both quickly find out that he knows absolutely nothing about statistics. "What IS that?" "That's a matrix, it has the variances in it." "Well then why does it have an apostrophe by it?" "That means you flip it around." "That's TRANSPOSING and you notate it with a T" "Aren't you supposed to be some kind of math genius? Shouldn't you know how to do this?" "This isn't math, this is blasphemy."

Aaron has to take calculus for the MCAT and puts it off for as long as possible because he hates math. His TA for the course sucks and he struggles through it for weeks before Katelyn manages to convince him to ask Neil for help. Neil pretends to be annoyed, but he's secretly kind of looking forward to it because calculus is fun and it's nice to do math you already know for a change. When you're an upperclassman in a math degree, though, your brain gets warped by all the theoretical math, and it's hard to get into the mindset to teach something like Calc I. This leads to semiregular hostile tutoring sessions in the dorm, we're talking real Dad Trying to Help You With Your Math Homework at the Kitchen Table type energy. "BUT HOW DID YOU KNOW TO DO THAT?!" "It's a vector space, Aaron, I don't see what you're not understanding here." "A vector WHAT" Andrew chain smokes through these. He has to start leaving the dorm because he's pretty sure the calculus is going to drive him to lung cancer.

The statistics incident gives Neil a totally reasonable grudge against statistics. He eventually gives it up, but only so he can take an elective about sports statistics, because he has exy brain worms.

[reidmotif]

about me • req guidelines • inbox (reqs open)

masterlist of fics under the cut..

key: ✰ - smut / ✂ - angst / ✿ - fluff

Coffee and Consequences • Reader joins the BAU, and Spencer seems insistent on being a problem for her. ✰ ✂

Not-Friends With Benefits • Reader and Spencer have been hooking up with no strings attached just fine, until a singular bed threatens to change that.✰✂

Double-Booked for the Night • Reader and Spencer have been double-booked by JJ for a night of babysitting. What happens when the situation brings out some buried feelings from both parties? ✰✿

Popsicle Love • Reader and Spencer are at a ridiculously hot precinct station, getting on each other's nerves arguing. Reader realizes she can get back at him, using a certain sweet treat. ✰

Behind Closed Doors I and II • Reader and Spencer are known to be a "tame" couple at work. They get fed up and decide to change how people see them. ✰

"Technically" Not A Student • Reader is Alex Blake’s TA, and after a guest lecture, Spencer seems to take a liking to her. ✰

Safe and Sound • Reader comforts Spencer after she unknowingly does something to trigger some unhappy memories of his. ✂✰

And For My Next Trick... • Reader is invited to a Halloween party where she doesn't know anyone. Everyone seems absolutely insistent she has to meet a mystery man who'd love her costume. ✰

Always Bet On Black • Reader realizes she has an advantage at the Bureau's Casino Night when Spencer can't seem to take his eyes off her and her dress. ✰

Regret on the Rocks • Spencer finds himself at a bar being served by the girl who once broke his heart. Turns out she feels a lot more than just regret for letting him go. ✂✰

For the Love of Lace • Reader decides she doesn’t want to pine for her best friend, Spencer anymore, but still needs his help deciding what lingerie to wear for her upcoming date. ✰

Dialing up for Trouble • Reader and Spencer were fuck-buddies, until Spencer cuts her off quite suddenly. A party and some risque images may be enough to get them back to their old routine. ✰

Check Your Window (He’s At Your Window) • Reader discovers her window faces into the apartment of her very attractive building neighbor, Spencer. She's willing to do anything for his attention. He's willing to reward her for her efforts. ✰

Please, Please, Please • Spencer makes a promise he can't keep to Reader, and pays the price. ✂ (NO SMUT)

Between the Books • Reader is a librarian at the library Spencer frequents while he’s finishing one of his degrees. They find themselves in a precarious situation when everyone’s left, and they’re the last two people there. ✰

Relax, I’ve Got You • Reader isn't the best at handling stress, and her roommate Spencer, notices. Luckily, he has quite a few salacious ideas on how he could make her feel better. ✰

[3d-wifey]

toxic (yandere) baseball player eren and the girl he'd kill for? 👁🫦👁

You Say I'm in Love (I Say You're A Fool)

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x tutor!reader Synopsis: There are many things Eren loves. Word Count: 1.3k Warning: smut, an argument could be made for manipulation, eren is in denial, riding, car sex, overstimulation (reader and eren receiving) A/N: I wrote this in 30 minutes and it shows.

Tag list: @scoven

There are many things Eren loves.

The way his calves burn and lungs heave as he runs from base to base. The resounding cracking noise the bat makes as it hits the baseball. Even the way the infield dirt stains his pants as he slides in to touch the base before a tag out.

But if there's one thing Eren can confidently say he's in love with, it's being between your legs.

It's a known fact that Eren isn't looking for a relationship. He's far too focused on getting scouted. His brother is in the major leagues, after all. So renowned that he has a pitch named after him. It only makes sense that he'd follow in his footsteps.

So, despite the dozens of girls who throw themselves at him and crowd the stands at every game just to get a glimpse of him, he isn't looking for anything serious.

And that fact doesn't change when he starts failing a few classes and his coach makes him take up tutoring with you, his daughter.

It doesn't change the first time he fingers you in his jeep as he drives you to your dorm. It doesn't change whenever he makes you read from a textbook as he eats you out under one of the rickety library tables.

It definitely doesn't change whenever he drags you to the dugout after practice and fucks you so hard that an imprint of the gates is left against your cheek. But you don't mind. His good girl, always so eager to please him.

But when did you become his?

Maybe it was when he warned all his teammates that you were off limits and told them in no uncertain terms that he'd break their fucking fingers they'd have to deal with him if he saw any of them sniffing around you. Or when he didn't see you in the crowd cheering him on at one of his games, and he found himself sending you a few concerned texts.

Ren💚: r u comin?

Ren💚: hello??????

Ren💚: did something happen?

Ren💚: y aren't u answering ur phone???

Ren💚: where the fuck are u?

Ren💚: r u with some1?

Ren💚: I swear to God I'll kill them.

Ren💚: You have till the second inning to be in the stands before I come to you.

Turns out you just overslept with your phone on silent.

Regardless, it's becoming a problem. He can't even get off to porn unless the girl looks like you and even that stops working after a while. Sleeping with anyone else is out of the question. So maybe he has to resort to scrolling through your Instagram when he finds himself in need of inspiration.

Eren's room is pitch black other than the bright light from his phone reflecting off his bare chest. His left-hand holds his phone as he scrolls your page from a burner account while his right hand palms his dick through his sweat pants.

His breath hitches as he stumbles upon the perfect post. It's from last summer when you and your family went to the beach. You were clad in a baby blue bathing suit with little white clouds. He's quick to push his sweatpants down his thighs and take himself in hand.

You had just gotten out of the ocean when you had someone take the photo for you. His pace speeds up as his eyes trace the salty drops of water that dripped down your skin, dipping between your cleavage and between your thighs. He imagines what it would be like to fuck you in that cute, little swimsuit, pushing the crotch of your bottoms aside to go down on you and his hips buck into his hand.

He swipes to the next picture of the set, you on your hands and knees, presumably, playing in the sand as you smile up at the camera, and Eren feels his orgasm ripping through him.

All things considered, his problem with you could be worse.

At least that's what he thinks until he realizes you're eager to please everyone, not just him. Always happy to help, always jumping at the opportunity to be praised, and under normal circumstances, maybe Eren would find it cute or funny, but now it's just fucking annoying.

The team is up for an away game against their rivals and your schedule has finally opened up enough to hang out with Eren after his game. Both of you had been pretty busy, you with midterms and him with practice. He'd never admit this to anyone but you even with a gun to his head, but he's been missing you more than he's missed anything in his entire life. So when you tell him you have to cancel because Jean apparently told your dad he needed some tutoring, he's rightfully pissed off.

Not at you, of course. You're practically in tears when you tell him. It's obvious you don't want to do this, which only fuels his anger.

That piece of shit. Jean is the last fucking person to need help with his homework. Hell, he graduated salutatorian in high school—second only to Armin.

This isn't about grades. He's doing this shit to get under his skin. Is he really this desperate for Eren's sloppy seconds?

He can't stop you from going, but he can send you off with a message.

He has fifteen minutes before he needs to be in the locker room, but you showed up wearing one of his old jerseys and he's already half-hard at the idea of you being in the stands cheering him on with 'Jaeger' printed on your back in big, bold, white letters. Making it known to everyone who you belong to.

And Jean overstepping his bounds pisses him the fuck off. Two birds, one stone. Besides, he doesn't need to be there when the team goes over the play, he's the one who made it.

His pants are pulled down to his thighs and you're bare from the waist down, wearing nothing but his jersey. He grips your hips tight, fucking little gasps out of you. One of your hands claps his shoulder while the other holds the car handle for dear life. Your cheeks are wet, almost as wet as you've made his lap.

He's overstimulated you both, a ring of white, frothy cum grows at the base of his shaft with each downward swing of your hips. That painful pleasure tightens his balls every time your sensitive walls spasm around his equally sensitive cock.

"E-Eren, I—fuck, fuck, fuck, ahhh—” You cut yourself off with a moan that slithers around his spine, pushing him to go faster, harder, deeper. This position is perfect, you're practically boneless over him as the head of his dick punches your g-spot.

"One more, baby. Just, hah, give me one more." And you nod your head from where you're crying into his neck. You leave his skin wet with tears and spit as you bite at him to muffle yourself. He doesn't have the heart to tell you each twinging bite is only making him harder, the grind of your canines that'll surely leave blotches and maybe even thin pricks of blood only makes him feel like he could fuck you for hours—days even! It feels too good, your pussy is too good to leave alone. A fact that Jean will never know.

"Mhm, okay, Ren." Despite your fatigue, your hips shift towards him, rutting your clit against his happy trail like you can't help yourself. "One more. One, uh, uh, uh, more for you." You agree, pulling his hair out of its messy bun in your haze. His good girl, not even thinking about the fact that he asked for one more the last three times, you're too full of his dick to think for yourself now. He would have cooed at you if it weren't for the tears blurring his own vision, toes curling in his shoes. By the time he finishes, you'll be full of his cum too. The game be damned.

After all, Eren Jaeger isn't known for his impulse control.

[hongjoongsslvt]

ITS YOU -CHOI SAN (MDNI)

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Click here for Part-2(Smut)

WC: 1.6k

Pairing: Roommate San X Roommate Reader Genre:University AU, childhood close friemds to lovers, Common best friends, Wooyoung and Yeosang, Reader is taller than San

Warnings: fem! Bodied reader, mild cursing, suggestive, reader is referred as kitten, MDNI

That's all i can think about ≽^•༚•^≼

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I have everything I wanted, university's top student in academics, enviously good at both physical and E-sports, basically you name it and I am either too good at it to be called a beginner or I have already learnt about it in my life more than anything I had my childhood best friend and rival who is equally good at stuff.

For as long as I can remember, San and I have been together. We went to the same middle school, high school, and university, so it made sense for us to move into the apartment together. But I had a big problem because of this rooming together.

I've had a major crush on Choi San for a long time. I've had it since we first met, but I made the decision to keep it a secret and carry it into death out of concern that if I ever made a move on him, I would lose our friendship.

---------------------------------

"Ayo Mate! Hurry up! I'm eager to test out this new mouse and write a review". In our shared game room, I yell while reclined in my comfortable gaming chair.

We have saved up enough money to furnish a comfortable apartment with the newest gaming equipment thanks to our accomplishments in hackathons, martial arts competitions, and streaming.

"Dude-c'mere and help me get this!" He seemed to be shouting, but it was barely audible. I moved out of the room to assist him with whatever it was, and as I did, I noticed that the man was in the storage room. He was wearing gray satin pajamas with the top two buttons undone, exposing his muscular pecs, a face mask, and a head band on. He was also tiptoeing to get his new keyboard, which was high on the shelf. "So adorable," I thought.

He jolted forward as I inadvertently brushed my breasts against him as I walked behind him and tiptoed to grab the keyboard. For a brief minute, I swear it felt amazing not having to wear a bra because the dark-colored, slightly baggy pajamas I was wearing nicely covered up my breasts. However, I chose to act like nothing had occurred.

"Having a Giantess in the dungeon is mad handy!" He patted my shoulder in appreciation and said, "Let's review your mouse and keyboard before he leaves the room like a cat jumping."

Yes, I am taller than my crush, but it doesn't really worry me because my 180 cm height got me hired as a model for several local magazines, which helped me be paid for new electronics and gaming accessories. However, I doubt San, who prides himself on being powerful, domineering, and manly, will ever consider dating a woman who is taller than him.

I sighed as I entered the room and saw two familiar faces: Kang Yeosang and Jung Wooyoung, our lads next door. The first had jet black hair, a gorgeous birthmark at the corner of his eye, and a deep, honey voice. The other had brilliant red hair and laughed like a witch.

"Wasssap Female Titan!" Wooyoung said as he got off my gaming chair to dab me up while yeosang nodded and gave me a fist bump and wacked the red haired boy. At the start of the year, the four of us really clicked because they were both excellent game designers. We are currently working together to design and build an independent game.

As I posted the schedule for the weekend in our group chat, I added, "Let's hit the library and the gym after the stream ends." We all four gathered together and began to stream information on products and collaborations, with Wooyoung constantly dropping spoilers and Yeosang and San, as always, delighting viewers with their distinct brand of deadpan humor. and San's sporadic, for reasons I'm not interested in knowing, staring.

By the time we finished streaming, it was close to 5 o'clock, and Wooyoung and Yeosang had to leave me and San alone since they had to pass our study session at the library and attend a significant lecture. It was expected since they both frequently went to seminars to get ideas for their game designs.

As I go into my own room to change and get ready for the night, I playfully tell him, "You better choose your outfit quickly before I barge in and break your kneecaps." We unintentionally became identical in black tank tops and sweatpants, but it didn't bother either of us. Even though I was dressed the same, I felt quite different. His large biceps, slim waist, and broad shoulders were all well-represented by the attire.

I got the other person to laugh as I flexed my biceps, triceps, and lats in front of a mirror, saying, "Oh boy, look at my guns and wings," hoping to release some of the tension building up inside of me. I had the perfect amount of muscle and curves to my body, luckily.

"Bet" he said, flexing his muscles and standing directly in front of me. God, he looks so ethereal and Greek god coded that I've temporarily lost my ability to process things. The doorbell ringing was one of them. San moved back to confront the person at the door, forgetting that I was right behind him. I again felt him brush against my breasts accidently, jerking and acting as if he hadn't touched before continuing.

We have done whatever we had planned for the day, without much convos outside the work, and without knowing a week has already passed already, with the tormenting "accidental" brushing against my breasts and ass, cooking food, cleaning room, doing laundry and other chores despite it being my turn to do. All these felt as if he had some hidden intentions behind them, but i decided to play it dumb till he comes out clear.

I made the decision this Sunday to give Wooyoung a call and tell him about my predicament making it the perfect time as Yeosang had piano lessons to attend and San was preoccupied with grocery shopping.

"HE'S 100% INTO YOU TITAN, TRUST ME" Wooyoung screams making me instantly whack his head.

"What was that for?" Wooyoung snarled and rubbed his head as I struck him. "Do you really suppose San rubs against every girl's ass and tits, remaining courteous and refusing to accept confessions?"-" I could almost see his wolfy, naughty smirk as he was ready to continue when his phone went off. wondering why he did this.

"Titan! Do you have anything sexy to wear? I realize I sound strange but trust me eh?" His hands are already enthusiastically going through my clothes in the closet mid way of the question.

"I don't think I do?" I said "Mate, why all of a sudden?"

He was too preoccupied digging through my closet to respond. A few minutes later, his witchy chuckle took me completely by surprise.

"BITCH- YOU NEVER TOLD YOU OWNED A BUNNY COSTUME?" he screamed, making me go deaf almost.

"It's not that I'm insecure about my height; it's just that I've never tried stuff like that," I remarked, leaning onto the door. "I got that as a gift from a stupid friend of mine," I said.

"let me cook" He said.

After what seemed like an eternity, he made me wear a costume of a bunny, but with cat ears in place of the bunny ears. He also lightly styled my hair, applied smeared lipstick, and made me wear Yeosang's fishnet tights. Upon seeing my progress, Wooyoung seemed happy and led me into the living room, where the lights were dimmed a bit.

"Damn! dude, i thought you were flatboard-" Wooyoung was about to start talking when an obviously irate San stormed into the home, dropped groceries at the door, and came right toward us. I swear, in my twenty years of living, I have never seen San look so upset.

"Too bad, Mate!, too late" Wooyoung said as he gave San's shoulder a pat before leaving the our house.

"San-"

"Is it true that you are sending semi nudes to mr.Lee?" He inquired, obviously furious

I was so perplexed for a moment that I just stood there.

"Yeosang said that Wooyoung was helping you take pics"

Now that it was all coming together, it was clear to me why they were rushing to a lecture on Sunday in the first place—they never go to seminars on Sundays!

"I love you, It have always been you and only you,I loved you since the moment we met in the school"San said in a voice that seemed shattered."Why Mr.Lee? is it because he is taller and much more appealing than me, because he is caring and kind?, I swear atleast I never thought height was a thing to be considered to love a person"

My mind went blank listening to those words, is it for real? or am i tweaking? this must definitely be a dream, there's no way San loves me, but soon i was brought back to reality from my thoughts by the sudden hug.

"Dude, that's why you were fucking brushing against my breasts and ass the entire past week, coz you thought imma date Mr.Lee?" I questioned him "Bitch, no shit my nips were crazy sensitive"

He replied, his tone falling several octaves as he crept nearer and eye-fucked me till I hit the wall. "It's your fault for being irresistibly cute and sexy." He grabbed my neck, held me to the wall, and bent me slightly so he could plant a kiss.

"Kitten you are merely 4 to 5 cm taller, that doesn't mean that i can't lift you up, bend you over and fuck you senseless"

Oh boy, I hope i will make it out alive by tomorrow morning.

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let me know if you want part two(Smut)~ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

Re blogs are appreciated

DO NOT REPOST OR PLAGIARISE

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[fiddles-ifs]

[ID: a banner-style image with smudged, grungy text. The banner says "blog update" in bold, capital letters. The background is textured green and white with a film border around it. The upper left corner says "official photograph not to be released for publication." /end ID]

Happy update day!

Greenwarden, Eryinys, and TKP's chapter 1 updates are all coming along very smoothly. (Except for Greenwarden. Firstborn problem indeed. I ended up losing a ton of work -- including the whole library update -- and I got so mad I started working on a whole other route. Coming back to the library route soon, though. I have enough salvageable material, I just need to be Not Mad about it.) Here's some snippets!

CONTENT WARNING: Gore

GREENWARDEN

Adrenaline is a hell of a drug. Sprinting down the street doesn't even hurt, even if you do leave a long blood trail behind you. Your one hope is that the coyote is too preoccupied tearing chunks out of Eddie to pay attention to you. Hope is dangerous -- makes you cocky. Makes you make mistakes. You keep running toward what you think is safety, and you end up right at the edge of Warden Forest. Definitely not safety. You stop just before the mouth of the woods, breathing so hard you gag, your stomach half-open like a yawning mouth. Deep breaths hurt too much -- you can't bring yourself back to baseline. You risk losing your adrenaline rush if you do that anyway. Looking around looks the same. Woods and parking lot, woods and parking lot. There's a trail right ahead of you, tempting you inside. The click of nails against asphalt makes you whirl around. The damn coyote is right behind you, still licking gristle from its teeth.

ERINYS

Marik leads you to a corner covered in paper thin monitors. Cords feed into the biggest computer you may have ever seen, protected from the water and soap by thick rubber casing and a raised platform surrounded by guardrails painted yellow and black. The ramp vibrates under heel. You realize, with a start, that the computer and monitors are much lower to the floor than you'd expect, just as the engineer wheels around to face you both. "Sorenson," Marik says. The engineer grins with a mouthful of pearly white teeth and leans back in his chair, arms folded over his stomach. He's all hard planes. Built with lean muscle, broad-shouldered like DANIEL is, but with a shock of curly red hair and a mess of dark freckles. He has a dimple on his nose. "Marik," Sorenson says, wheeling his chair back to make room for you both. "All systems good. I'm running tune-up software now, just to make sure. Everything is brand new, but still. Can't be too careful." He glances at you. Nothing escapes Marik's notice, even bent across the desk to glare into screens running codes and diagnostics and other things that make you dizzy. Absently, he introduces you to each other. The engineer's name is Doctor Matthew Sorenson. He looks awfully young to be a doctor. "Fury, huh?" Dr. Sorenson raises his eyebrows. You flex your hands. "Whatever keeps you alive, I guess."

THE KING'S PHYSICIAN

The Maw is a jagged white chalkscape. You have to march in single file, careful to avoid the razor sharp juts of rock. The horses are nervous -- the wolf packs and cave lions living in the Teeth have perfected the art of the ambush. Not just that -- the endless bone white expanse can cause the distracted to become easily lost. You keep close count of everyone -- you, Sibir, and Leniza -- their aunt. She gives the whole company water blessings on the way in. Salt water from the Archipelago, to fine their ways home. -> Not that you believe in blessings. You are a person of science. -> You give your own blessings when you can. You can never have too many gods at your disposal. -> You don't have an opinion on religion -- it's something that exists. Annoyingly prevalent, but what can you do?

I'm hoping at least one of these guys will be ready to publish by next month -- but I'm also writing another book! Because I'm crazy. So we'll see!

[fireflysummers]

Heroes, Gods, and the Invisible Narrator

Slay the Princess as a Framework for the Cyclical Reproduction of Colonialist Narratives in Data Science & Technology

An Essay by FireflySummers

All images are captioned.

Content Warnings: Body Horror, Discussion of Racism and Colonialism

Spoilers for Slay the Princess (2023) by @abby-howard and Black Tabby Games.

If you enjoy this article, consider reading my guide to arguing against the use of AI image generators or the academic article it's based on.

Introduction: The Hero and the Princess

You're on a path in the woods, and at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a Princess. You're here to slay her. If you don't, it will be the end of the world.

Slay the Princess is a 2023 indie horror game by Abby Howard and published through Black Tabby Games, with voice talent by Jonathan Sims (yes, that one) and Nichole Goodnight.

The game starts with you dropped without context in the middle of the woods. But that’s alright. The Narrator is here to guide you. You are the hero, you have your weapon, and you have a monster to slay.

From there, it's the player's choice exactly how to proceed--whether that be listening to the voice of the narrator, or attempting to subvert him. You can kill her as instructed, or sit and chat, or even free her from her chains.

It doesn't matter.

Regardless of whether you are successful in your goal, you will inevitably (and often quite violently) die.

And then...

You are once again on a path in the woods.

The cycle repeats itself, the narrator seemingly none the wiser. But the woods are different, and so is the cabin. You're different, and worse... so is she.

Based on your actions in the previous loop, the princess has... changed. Distorted.

Had you attempted a daring rescue, she is now a damsel--sweet and submissive and already fallen in love with you.

Had you previously betrayed her, she has warped into something malicious and sinister, ready to repay your kindness in full.

But once again, it doesn't matter.

Because the no matter what you choose, no matter how the world around you contorts under the weight of repeated loops, it will always be you and the princess.

Why? Because that’s how the story goes.

So says the narrator.

So now that we've got that out of the way, let's talk about data.

Chapter I: Echoes and Shattered Mirrors

The problem with "data" is that we don't really think too much about it anymore. Or, at least, we think about it in the same abstract way we think about "a billion people." It's gotten so big, so seemingly impersonal that it's easy to forget that contemporary concept of "data" in the west is a phenomenon only a couple centuries old [1].

This modern conception of the word describes the ways that we translate the world into words and numbers that can then be categorized and analyzed. As such, data has a lot of practical uses, whether that be putting a rover on mars or tracking the outbreak of a viral contagion. However, this functionality makes it all too easy to overlook the fact that data itself is not neutral. It is gathered by people, sorted into categories designed by people, and interpreted by people. At every step, there are people involved, such that contemporary technology is embedded with systemic injustices, and not always by accident.

The reproduction of systems of oppression are most obvious from the margins. In his 2019 article As If, Ramon Amaro describes the Aspire Mirror (2016): a speculative design project by by Joy Buolamwini that contended with the fact that the standard facial recognition algorithm library had been trained almost exclusively on white faces. The simplest solution was to artificially lighten darker skin-tones for the algorithm to recognize, which Amaro uses to illustrate the way that technology is developed with an assumption of whiteness [2].

This observation applies across other intersections as well, such as trans identity [3], which has been colloquially dubbed "The Misgendering Machine" [4] for its insistence on classifying people into a strict gender binary based only on physical appearance.

This has also popped up in my own research, brought to my attention by the artist @b4kuch1n who has spoken at length with me about the connection between their Vietnamese heritage and the clothing they design in their illustrative work [5]. They call out AI image generators for reinforcing colonialism by stripping art with significant personal and cultural meaning of their context and history, using them to produce a poor facsimile to sell to the highest bidder.

All this describes an iterative cycle which defines normalcy through a white, western lens, with a limited range of acceptable diversity. Within this cycle, AI feeds on data gathered under colonialist ideology, then producing an artifact that reinforces existing systemic bias. When this data is, in turn, once again fed to the machine, that bias becomes all the more severe, and the range of acceptability narrower [2, 6].

Luciana Parisi and Denise Ferreira da Silva touch on a similar point in their article Black Feminist Tools, Critique, and Techno-poethics but on a much broader scale. They call up the Greek myth of Prometheus, who was punished by the gods for his hubris for stealing fire to give to humanity. Parisi and Ferreira da Silva point to how this, and other parts of the “Western Cosmology” map to humanity’s relationship with technology [7].

However, while this story seems to celebrate the technological advancement of humanity, there are darker colonialist undertones. It frames the world in terms of the gods and man, the oppressor and the oppressed; but it provides no other way of being. So instead the story repeats itself, with so-called progress an inextricable part of these two classes of being. This doesn’t bode well for visions of the future, then–because surely, eventually, the oppressed will one day be the machines [7, 8].

It’s… depressing. But it’s only really true, if you assume that that’s the only way the story could go.

“Stories don't care who takes part in them. All that matters is that the story gets told, that the story repeats. Or, if you prefer to think of it like this: stories are a parasitical life form, warping lives in the service only of the story itself.” ― Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad

Chapter II: The Invisible Narrator

So why does the narrator get to call the shots on how a story might go? Who even are they? What do they want? How much power do they actually have?

With the exception of first person writing, a lot of the time the narrator is invisible. This is different from an unreliable narrator. With an unreliable narrator, at some point the audience becomes aware of their presence in order for the story to function as intended. An invisible narrator is never meant to be seen.

In Slay the Princess, the narrator would very much like to be invisible. Instead, he has been dragged out into the light, because you (and the inner voices you pick up along the way), are starting to argue with him. And he doesn’t like it.

Despite his claims that the princess will lie and cheat in order to escape, as the game progresses it’s clear that the narrator is every bit as manipulative–if not moreso, because he actually knows what’s going on. And, if the player tries to diverge from the path that he’s set before them, the correct path, then it rapidly becomes clear that he, at least to start, has the power to force that correct path.

While this is very much a narrative device, the act of calling attention to the narrator is important beyond that context. 

The Hero’s Journey is the true monomyth, something to which all stories can be reduced. It doesn’t matter that the author, Joseph Campbell, was a raging misogynist whose framework flattened cultures and stories to fit a western lens [9, 10]. It was used in Star Wars, so clearly it’s a universal framework.

The metaverse will soon replace the real world and crypto is the future of currency! Never mind that the organizations pushing it are suspiciously pyramid shaped. Get on board or be left behind.

Generative AI is pushed as the next big thing. The harms it inflicts on creatives and the harmful stereotypes it perpetuates are just bugs in the system. Never mind that the evangelists for this technology speak over the concerns of marginalized people [5]. That’s a skill issue, you gotta keep up.

Computers will eventually, likely soon, advance so far as to replace humans altogether. The robot uprising is on the horizon [8]. 

Who perpetuates these stories? What do they have to gain?

Why is the only story for the future replications of unjust systems of power? Why must the hero always slay the monster?

Because so says the narrator. And so long as they are invisible, it is simple to assume that this is simply the way things are.

Chapter III: The End...?

This is the part where Slay the Princess starts feeling like a stretch, but I’ve already killed the horse so I might as well beat it until the end too.

Because what is the end result here?

According to the game… collapse. A recursive story whose biases narrow the scope of each iteration ultimately collapses in on itself. The princess becomes so sharp that she is nothing but blades to eviscerate you. The princess becomes so perfect a damsel that she is a caricature of the trope. The story whittles itself away to nothing. And then the cycle begins anew.

There’s no climactic final battle with the narrator. He created this box, set things in motion, but he is beyond the player’s reach to confront directly. The only way out is to become aware of the box itself, and the agenda of the narrator. It requires acknowledgement of the artificiality of the roles thrust upon you and the Princess, the false dichotomy of hero or villain.

Slay the Princess doesn’t actually provide an answer to what lies outside of the box, merely acknowledges it as a limit that can be overcome. 

With regards to the less fanciful narratives that comprise our day-to-day lives, it’s difficult to see the boxes and dichotomies we’ve been forced into, let alone what might be beyond them. But if the limit placed is that there are no stories that can exist outside of capitalism, outside of colonialism, outside of rigid hierarchies and oppressive structures, then that limit can be broken [12].

Denouement: Doomed by the Narrative

Video games are an interesting artistic medium, due to their inherent interactivity. The commonly accepted mechanics of the medium, such as flavor text that provides in-game information and commentary, are an excellent example of an invisible narrator. Branching dialogue trees and multiple endings can help obscure this further, giving the player a sense of genuine agency… which provides an interesting opportunity to drag an invisible narrator into the light.

There are a number of games that have explored the power differential between the narrator and the player (The Stanley Parable, Little Misfortune, Undertale, Buddy.io, OneShot, etc…)

However, Slay the Princess works well here because it not only emphasizes the artificial limitations that the narrator sets on a story, but the way that these stories recursively loop in on themselves, reinforcing the fears and biases of previous iterations. 

Critical data theory probably had nothing to do with the game’s development (Abby Howard if you're reading this, lmk). However, it works as a surprisingly cohesive framework for illustrating the ways that we can become ensnared by a narrative, and the importance of knowing who, exactly, is narrating the story. Although it is difficult or impossible to conceptualize what might exist beyond the artificial limits placed by even a well-intentioned narrator, calling attention to them and the box they’ve constructed is the first step in breaking out of this cycle.

“You can't go around building a better world for people. Only people can build a better world for people. Otherwise it's just a cage.” ― Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad

Epilogue

If you've read this far, thank you for your time! This was an adaptation of my final presentation for a Critical Data Studies course. Truthfully, this course posed quite a challenge--I found the readings of philosophers such as Kant, Adorno, Foucault, etc... difficult to parse. More contemporary scholars were significantly more accessible. My only hope is that I haven't gravely misinterpreted the scholars and researchers whose work inspired this piece.

I honestly feel like this might have worked best as a video essay, but I don't know how to do those, and don't have the time to learn or the money to outsource.

Slay the Princess is available for purchase now on Steam.

Screencaps from ManBadassHero Let's Plays: [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

Post Dividers by @cafekitsune

Citations:

Rosenberg, D. (2018). Data as word. Historical Studies in the Natural Sciences, 48(5), 557-567.

Amaro, Ramon. (2019). As If. e-flux Architecture. Becoming Digital. https://www.e-flux.com/architecture/becoming-digital/248073/as-if/

What Ethical AI Really Means by PhilosophyTube

Keyes, O. (2018). The misgendering machines: Trans/HCI implications of automatic gender recognition. Proceedings of the ACM on human-computer interaction, 2(CSCW), 1-22.

Allred, A.M., Aragon, C. (2023). Art in the Machine: Value Misalignment and AI “Art”. In: Luo, Y. (eds) Cooperative Design, Visualization, and Engineering. CDVE 2023. Lecture Notes in Computer Science, vol 14166. Springer, Cham. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-43815-8_4

Amaro, R. (2019). Artificial Intelligence: warped, colorful forms and their unclear geometries.

Parisisi, L., Ferreira da Silva, D. Black Feminist Tools, Critique, and Techno-poethics. e-flux. Issue #123. https://www.e-flux.com/journal/123/436929/black-feminist-tools-critique-and-techno-poethics/

AI - Our Shiny New Robot King | Sophie from Mars by Sophie From Mars

Joseph Campbell and the Myth of the Monomyth | Part 1 by Maggie Mae Fish

Joseph Campbell and the N@zis | Part 2 by Maggie Mae Fish

How Barbie Cis-ified the Matrix by Jessie Gender

[lalathemediterraneanmermaid]

What do ikevill suitors smell like? PT.2

Hi little robins, this is pt.2 of "What do ikevil suitors smell like?". I've included the three new babies villains, the Vogel boys. Eventhough we don't know much about them, I couldn't resist including them here, because I already love those sillies. Soooo, enjoy, my dears!!! Btw, just like in pt.1, I tried to put the same amount of perfumes on each boy, except for Elbie, our greedy boy.

Elbert Greetia

A melancholic, porcelain-doll-looking nobleman. Our Ethereal Prince. My Greedy Boy. As beautiful as a work of art. He has a little maniacal obsession with collecting the most beautiful things in the world, just for himself, that's why he has so many perfumes, he can't decide which one he likes the most, so he keeps buying new fragrances. "I want. I want. I want… If only I could find it, then surely..." Love, let me hold your hand while telling you this: you are the mot beautiful thing in the world. His ocean-blue eyes and long, fluttering lashes hold such a sorrowful gaze. If it weren't because of his curse, he could perfectly be part of ikemen prince, you can't change my mind. I love Elbie, and I can't wait to play his route over and over again. He reminds me of a rain-soaked garden with a gazebo full of roses in the middle. He reminds me of a nostalgic walk along a solitary beach at dusk. He reminds me of a magical forest bathed in silver moonlight. He definitely smells clean, soft, and ethereal, with perhaps some citrusy notes blended with salty-marine hints that reflect his love for beach walks.

Notes: Bergamot, lemon, aldehydes, orange blossom, jasmine, lavender, sea salt, sandalwood, white musk and amber.

Perfumes he might like:

De Profundis - Serge Lutens

Un Jardin Apres La Mousson - Hermès

Wood Sage & Sea Salt - Jo Malone

Aqua Allegoria Teazzurra - Guerlain

L’Eau Froide - Serge Lutens

Sel Marin - James Heeley

Fou d’Absinthe - L’Artisan Parfumeur

Meomir Man - Amouage

Ninfeo Mio - Goutal

Jude Jazza

The Cunning & Ruthless Mobster. Crown's personal Maleficent. Silvio 2.0. A mean pookie who enjoys the problems and suffering of others. "All your yappin's real noisy. Lemme shut ya up.” OMG he even speaks like Silvio. Pretty sure he's kinky af, he may be into chains or something similar. "He's earned himself many enemies" Nah, really? I would've never guessed, not with that golden retriever personality of his. "He always fulfills his promises and expects the same of others, holding a special one close to his festering heart." You see? He has a heart, allegedly. Anyways, we're here to talk about scents, aren't we? I feel like he smells like tobacco and liqueur, I'm 100% sure. And, I don't know why, I can sense some kind of smell that reminds me of sylvester bushes and a really old library, full of dust. Of course, we can't forget that he has money *cough, cough, Silvio, cough*, so he also needs a really expensive scent. He probably doesn't have a favourite perfume, because he slays at layering them and creating new scents that combine with his radiant and bubbly personality.

Notes: Liqueur, cognac, tobacco, black pepper, cinnamon, bergamot, cedarwood, sandalwood, leather, amber and vetiver.

Perfumes he might like:

Man In Black - Bvlgari

Tobacco Vanille - Tom Ford

Angels' Share - By Killian

Straight to Heaven - By Killian

The Tragedy of Lord George - Penhaligon's

1740 Marquis de Sade - Histoires de Parfums

Ellis Twilight

The little sunshine oddball filled with happiness and joy. Have you seen those cute little curls in his hair? *OMG he's so fluffy I'm gonna dieeee.* He wants to reveal the happiest moments of other people’s lives (and then kill them). He really has a peculiar obsession (another impulsive maniacal wow, such a surprise hahan't.) for the "happiest moment" in others' lives and his own definition of "love" he's striving to prove (Alexa, play "Safer" by Tyla). “Tell me, how happy are you right now…?” If I tell you I'm depressed will you let me live?. Crown's youngest member and Jude's assistant (I don't even know what to think anymore, poor Ellis or poor Jude?). Anyways, as the mentally ill person that I am, I'll patiently wait for his route release. Back to the scents, he loves crispy baguettes and raspberry jam. I feel like he smells like a twisted picnic in a forest at dusk, with pink roses, fresh bread and berries. Clean, but with earthy and woody hints. Since he is such a people pleaser, he doesn't have a favourite perfume, he's just going to wear whatever you like the most, even if it's nothing, even if it's gasoline.

Notes: Mandarine, grapefruit, raspberry, rose, bread, cedarwood, vanilla, oak moss and amber.

Perfumes he might like:

By The Fireplace - Maison Margiela

Eau Rose - Diptyque

Aventus for Her - Creed

Memoirs of a Trespasser - Imaginary Authors

Pomegranate Noir - Jo Malone

Mûre et Musc - L’Artisan Parfumeur

Darius Vogel

The so called Untrustworthy Cruel Angel, or what I prefer, Chevalier and Gilbert's love child. He truly looks as beautiful and ethereal as an angel, but so did Lucifer, and he ended up ruling Hell, so... we'll have to wait to see him in action... According to Victor in his Vicpedia "Is he an angel or a devil? You’ll have to find out for yourself." “Hello cursed people and everyone else. Won’t you join me in building a wonderful world?” Vlad, is that you? The angelic head of the German empire’s direct organisation, “Vogel”. Referencing Victor on his Vicpedia, "Though he looks like an angel, there’s a strong scent of evil coming from him." So, translated to scents, what does that exactly smells like? Based on what we know, which is not much, if not nothing, I will say that his scent matches his appearance, so maybe a really light, soft, airy and beautiful opening, with white flowers and white musk, very angelic-like, with a "punch" of something much more obscure beneath the surface, maybe some spices, sweet liqueurs and dark woods. All that in a winter-like scenery, very cold, like a breath on top of a glacier.

Notes: Bergamot, jasmine, gardenia, lily of the valley, snowdrop, foxglove, cypress, sandalwood, cinnamon, black pepper, oak moss and absinthe.

Perfumes he might like:

The Language Of Glaciers - Imaginary Authors - His favourite

Nightingale - Zoologist Perfumes

Viking - Creed

Reflection Man - Amouage

La Religieuse - Serge Lutens

Poivre Noire - Serge Lutens

Nica Schwartz

Just like Jude is the villanous version of Silvio from ikeprince, I feel like Nica is Nokto's doppelganger in ikevillains. A frivolous and cunning person who plays with love. He gives me foxy vibes, but in a darker and colder way. He's referred to as "Vogel’s brain" and seems to have a knack for manipulation and has an eye for money and power. “Guten Tag, cute robin. I want you to be my toy", yep, we have yet another fox. He's a bookworm, but, apparently, is just so he can gain more and more knowledge so he can play with you all. In the official information given directly by Cybird, it says that Nica resents shows of affection, but he still plays with you like a toy. Doesn't that sounds like he's desperate for someone loving him? "He resents love because he has never been given some." Again, this are just assumptions based on what we know and the vibes that I get from him. In conclusion, beneath that foxy-like appearance, I feel like he may have a huge heart of gold that he is too afraid to share. If I had to translate that vibe into a scent, it would probably be something seductive but fresh and sweet at the same time, something more "wild" like a fox playing in a field, but with a cooler vibe, maybe between winter and spring.

Notes: Bergamot, vetiver, jasmin, fruity, leather, ambar, incense, musk, lily of the valley, wild flowers, vanilla, honey, tulip and pink pepper.

Perfumes he might like:

Fox in the Flowerbed - Imaginary Authors - His favourite

L'homme Ideal - Guerlain

Yesterday Haze - Imaginary Authors

XJ 1861 Naxos - Xerjoff

Tam Dao - Diptyque

Snowy Owl - Zoologist Perfumes

Ring Schwartz

The love of my life pt. I already lost the count. The cute Vogel's guard dog. Dariu's puppet and Licht's doppelganger.  "This younger twin suffers from blushing easily" Victor please stop, I can't take it anymore. “If you don’t want your life to be taken, don’t get in the way of us, Vogel.” Okay cute puppy, whatever you say. From what we know, Ring seems cold when you first approach him, but he will be on his knees at the minimum show of affection towards him. So, if you play with his heart, you'll not only have Nica going for you, I'll be there too. Based on the information that Cybird has given us, he seems to be shy and cold, since one of his hobbies is "being in the corner of a room", still, it's not like he is an antisocial, we can guess that because the thing that he resents the most is "eating alone". The other hobby that he has is "taking a nap while looking at the sky" this tells me that he prefers quiet places where he can feel at peace, and somehow it also gives me the vibes of a dreamer, since "looking at the sky" is kind of poetic and it can symbolise freedom, if you know what I mean. In his skills he mixes two aspects that seem quite radical, combat skills and martial arts, along with a really good relationship with animals and an understanding of plants and flowers. When I say radical, in this case, I mean it's that one thing is "agressive" and "tough" while the other is so much more "soft" and "light energy". That aspect of dichotomy or duality is the most important characteristic of Ring, and it needs to be reflected on his scent.

Notes: Grapefruit, black pepper, ginger, lavender, vanilla, lily of the valley, snowdrop, leather, sandalwood, amber and forget-me-not.

Perfumes he might like:

The Noir 29 - Le Labo

Jubilation XXV - Amouage

Pardon - Nasomatto

Russian Leather - Memo Paris

Hyrax - Zoologist Perfumes

Burning Ben - Strangers Parfumerie - His favourite

And here it ends the "What do ___ suitors smell like?" Ikemen Villains edition. I hope you have enjoyed reading this as mucha as I have enjoyed writing it. You've probably noticed that the ikevil version of these series is pretty much less humorous than the ikeprince version. I think it is mainly because, eventhough both games characters are so well written and have a lot of traumas and issues, I still think that Ikemen Villains is the darkest one, and so, the one with less humorous content. And also, I tried to understand each character, that's why the character's descriptions are so long, sorry for that hehe. Anyways, thanks for your attention and love!!! Love you all my little robins!!!

Btw, I will probably continue doing this with ikevamp and maybe, maybe, ikesen, but it will take some time, there are a lot of characters in those game series.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading update: july 2024

full disclosure: I started out July in a bit of a mental lurch, really feeling stuck in a rut. there are a lot of reasons for that, absolutely none of which need to be shared with the general populace of tumblr dot com, but suffice to say that I was feeling listless and reading was not a high priority. I was pretty content to accept that this was going to be another month where I didn't finish a lot of books. I was too busy for most of June, and now too unfocused and bummed out in July.

and then that ended up not being the case. I think I can chalk that up to three things:

very early in the month I realized that none of the reading I had been planning on getting to was grabbing my interest at all, so I did something drastically different: picked up a YA memoir that I bought at pride on the recommendation of a bookseller. not my usual kind of reading at all, but YA is very readable and memoirs grab me fast because I'm nosy, so I figured it might be great for getting out of a rut. and boy, was I right!

Akwaeke Emezi also has a new novel out, and if you don't know then please note now that I'm a person second and an Akwaeke Emezi fan first. their newest novel was a sinister joyride, non-stop twists and turns that I couldn't put down until I saw the characters through to their bitter ends.

and, of course, over in the Dungeon Meshi manga I got to Mithrun. I've only had Mithrun for a couple of chapters, but if anything happened to him I'd kill everyone in this dungeon and then myself. even if I hadn't been able to read anything else, that would have kept me running back to the library for more Dungeon Meshi.

all of which added up to a fairly voracious appetite for books being reignited in my brain, and my second most book-heavy month of the year so far (still haven't beat May, but there's time). sick!

so - what have I been reading?

Delicious in Dungeon Vol. 7-10 (Ryoko Kui, trans. Taylor Engel, 2019-2022) - mannnnn I know I'm not saying anything that hasn't been said elsewhere, but Dungeon Meshi is so. fucking good. the way that Kui starts to raise the stakes of the story and grow the world beyond the core band of adventurers is so conscientious and well-done, timed perfectly so it never feels like having an undercooked heap of fantasy exposition thrown at you all at once. instead everything proceeds at a perfect simmer, leaving me feeling like the frog in that pot of boiling water who didn't notice how dire things had gotten until it was very suddenly too late and I was screaming bloody murder at a book. things have gotten so dire that I'm yearning for the days when fighting a red dragon was our biggest problem - and yet, through it all, every character remains rendered with humanity and compassion, no matter how scary, dangerous, or outright alien they first appear. I'm not naming any spoilers, but I need [REDACTED] to fix shit ASAP in Vol. 11 and [SUPER REDACTED] is on my shitlist fucking forever. also Mithrun sweetie you're perfect, do as many crimes as you want.

Heart and Hand (Rebel Carter, 2019) - my romance novel of the month, as picked by my lovely patreonites! this self-published historical romance promised some messy f/m/m, following a biracial (half Black, half white) young lady, Julie Baptiste, as she responds to a marriage ad that takes her out west to the fictional town of Gold Sky, Montana. Julie's sort of a standard historical heroine - she doesn't care for the silliness of high society and vastly prefers the company of books, looking forward to becoming Gold Sky's schoolteacher - but her marriage has a twist: rather than marrying one man, she's agreed to marry two, a pair of friends who have been inseparable since they served together in the Civil War. this book is charming, for sure, but I can't help be more intrigued by what isn't there than what is, namely: are these men having sex with each other or not? Rebel? hey, Rebel? why is there no DP in this two husbands mail order bride book? that was, like, he bare minimum that I expected. for the love of god, why did those men never put both of their dicks inside Julie at the same time? why did we spend so much time on emotional conflict that could be easily resolved if anyone just talked to each other when Julie's two beautiful husbands could have been having sex in front of her? HELLO?

also, listen, this is such a nitpick, but I am FROM Montana and it feels personal: I know that the general poverty of frontier life isn't sexy, but god these people are WAY too well off. at one point Julie enjoys some fucking BANANAS, something that I goddamn assure you were not easy to come by in late 19th century Montana. a banana. as fucking if.

All Boys Aren't Blue (George M. Johnson, 2020) - as is proudly advertised on the back cover of my copy, in recent years All Boys Aren't Blue has been the second most-challenged book in America behind Maia Kobabe's Gender Queer. reading through All Boys Aren't Blue it was initially hard to see what exactly was so objectionable, until I realized that a queer Black person living their life with compassion and joy is the scariest thing some of these motherfuckers can possibly imagine. Johnson writes about their life growing up in the nexus of racism, homophobia, and masculinity with wisdom and endless compassion, directly addressing young people who may find themselves in similar positions to offer them assurance that they, too, can be okay. more than anything, All Boys Aren't Blue is a plea for young people to live their lives without fear and shame. it's a beautiful blessing of a book that I hope brings comfort to every innumerable kids who need it.

Little Rot (Akwaeke Emezi, 2024) - how do I even begin to describe Little Rot? definitely not for those who feel squeamish about sex crimes, I guess that's an important place to start. this novel starts with the breakup of a long-term Nigerian couple, Kalu and Aima, and follows both of them into a weekend that starts with drugs and sex parties and spirals increasingly out of control from there, drawing more and more characters into a complicated snarl of money and power. Little Rot has the seedy, lurid draw of an episode of SVU if SVU ever grew up and realized that cops don't do shit, reveling in the nastiest that Emezi's imagined city of New Lagos has to offer. cannot say this book is for everyone - few of Emezi's novels are - but god, it's a thrilling study in corruption.

The Persistent Desire: A Femme-Butch Reader (editor Joan Nestle, 1992) - this is a massive and fascinating historical document, assembled by Nestle as part of her work with the Lesbian Herstory Archives. within this collection are letters, interviews, academic essays, poems, and transcribed oral histories from all manner of self-identified butch and femme lesbians. while some of the contributors are recognizable names in the history of American queer activism (including Pat Califa, who's a bisexual trans man now lmao), others are women who were just trying to live their lives with as much authenticity, comfort, and dignity as was possible in their time. (although, notably, the vast majority of these women are white, and all but a very few are Americans. racial and cultural diversity is not one of the collection's strong suits.)

the personal narratives span all over the twentieth century, and I was really delighted to see the very frank discussions of what would be written off as "bad representation" by a lot of queer resources today: butches overdosing on toxic masculinity and getting in messy bar brawls, femmes committing outlandish acts of adultery, lesbian sexual awakenings taking place between fairly young children, and one extremely memorable instance of a butch getting unexpectedly pregnant and decided to do a little sex work on the side since she couldn't get more pregnant than she already was. I was particularly fascinated by the many, many accounts of "second wave" self-identified lesbian feminists who tried to do away with butch/femme identities and "politically incorrect" expression of lesbian sexuality altogether (that's everything but mutual cunnilingus, btw) in pretty eerie echoes of contemporary radfem arguments. at close to 500 pages it's definitely better suited to skimming and stopping to read whatever catches your attention rather than trying to read cover to cover, but I think this is a really invaluable piece of history.

American Mermaid (Julia Langbien, 2023) - this was a novel, for sure. American Mermaid is a novel about a broke, anxious high school teacher named Penelope whose novel, also called American Mermaid, is a runaway success that gets optioned for film. Penelope quits her teaching job and moves across the country to Hollywood to work on the script with two dude bros who don't really Get what American Mermaid is about, and set to work turning Penelope's weird, unsexy female empowerment novel into an MCU-style action romp with a hot young lead. the novel's strongest when it's deep in the spirals of Penelope's frantic mind, probing the conflict between her fairly desperate need for cash (she wants to be financially independent of her conservative father, she has good reason to suspect breast cancer is in her future, she wants to start a family someday) and the artistic affront she feels at watching her story be disrespected and dismantled. where it's weaker is in the extensive chapters of the story-within-a-story; while useful for context, I straight up didn't need to read that much of Penelope's novel. and the plot overall kind of felt like it fell off the rails near the end once Langbien finishes making her point about how Hollywood sucks. it's not bad, but it's also just... fine. it's fine!

How to Taste: A Guide Discovering Flavor and Savoring Life (Mandy Naglich, 2023) - how do I put this so nicely? this book is for people who are kind of dork ass losers about food, a group that I do very much count myself as a part of. I first became acquainted with Naglich's work when she appeared on a podcast called the Sporkful, which claims that it is "not for foodies, it's for eaters." I'm a fairly devout listener, and after listening to Naglich describe her efforts to become a master cicerone (one of the world's most elite beer tasters, a distinction that is taken Very Fucking Seriously) I thought sure, whatever, that's a book I can get behind. Naglich is maybe a big more entertaining as a podcast guest than a nonfiction author. in places the book can be dry or roughly constructed in a way that suggests another pass by an editor or maybe a co-writer would have helped. and straight up, there are just weird fucking typos in this book that are like. crazy to me, I cannot believe they got through. the cheap-ass cover art also suggests this was not exactly a high budget production.

but having been very mean about it, there are a lot of extremely interesting tidbits about the world of professional tasting here! it sounds awful and you couldn't pay me to do it, but here's the cool thing: Naglich is extremely aware that what she does is insane and she knows that the average reader doesn't want to learn how to identify where a coffee bean was grown just by sniffing the bean from across a room. what she offers instead are really approachable ways to be more conscientious about how you interact with and appreciate food! and she also shares some really cool info about tasting snobbery that IS bullshit, to help you sort out the stuff that actually matters and emphasize that fun and personal taste ultimately trump any "rules." it's a very dorky book but I, personally, did have a good time.

Sex Criminals Vol 3: Three the Hard Way (Matt Fraction and Chip Zdarsky, 2016) - every time I read another volume of Sex Criminals I find myself thinking "man, hang on, do I ever actually like Sex Criminals? am I enjoying this?" but then I end up placing a hold on the next one. I don't know, it's charming! it's like so very VERY 2010s in its dialogue, by which I mean it's like. you know. it's giving Joss Whedon before we all found out how bad he sucked and collectively booed him. but man, I love a story that's down to get weird, and Sex Criminals is sooooo about being weird. and yet also very normal where sex is concerned! considering this is a series all about people having freaky world-altering powers that activate when they cum, sex is treated as an incredibly ordinary thing, warts and all. I like that! I like seeing that! idk, I don't need every comic to be perfect, as evidenced by the fact that I'm actively enjoying Azrael: Angel of the Bat. sometimes the vibes are just good.

[willalove75]

Alcina request - reader does labor while she watches from the shadows (or maybe her balcony) + nsfw thoughts of reader. Y/n is cutting wood for the fireplaces so the maids can keep the castle warm for the daughters <3

Love this!! Thanks so much for the request!!💕💕

Lets get into it!!

Warnings: masturbation

18+ Only Minors DNI

The morning sun was low in the sky on this chilly Sunday afternoon. Fall has begun to give way to winter so the Dimitrescu girls have been locked inside of the castle until spring.

Lady Dimitrescu is sitting at her vanity wrapped in one of her robes fixing her hair. In her head she's going over all of the things that need to get done, deciding which tasks on her to-do list can wait until tomorrow. It's not often where the Countess gets a day to relax so when the opportunity arises, she does what she can to take advantage of the situation.

*THWACK*

The Lady is pulled from her thoughts when she hears the sound. Pausing for a moment she goes back to the list in her head.

*THWACK*

She closes her eyes for a moment, trying to remain calm.

*THWACK*

Bringing her fingers to the bridge of her nose she prays that the noise outside her bedroom window stops. She doesn't hear the noise for a few seconds and picks up her teacup.

*THWACK*

Lady Dimitrescu all but slams her teacup down and walks over to the windows.

*THWACK*

Unable to see where the sound is coming from, she steps out onto her terrace and looks down. She's taken aback when she sees you raising an axe over your head driving it down and splitting a piece of wood.

*THWACK*

"What on the black gods green earth is she doing?" She mutters to herself.

Unless you work in the kitchens or are assigned to other important roles, usually all maids have off on Sundays to do what they please. Most make their way down to the village or spend time in the maids quarters. Some venture out to the library but for the most part the maids keep to themselves and relax. Watching you outside, in the cold, splitting wood on a Sunday morning was definitely out of the ordinary.

The cold air felt good on your heated skin as you chop the wood. You noticed that the wood pile was running low and the temperature was supposed to drop pretty drastically tonight. The girls, Bela, Cassandra and Daniela, can be hurt by the cold, killed even. It was something you learned early on when you started working at Castle Dimitrescu. In the late fall and winter all windows are to remain closed and every fireplace must be attended to. There's a few maids who are assigned the task but when you mentioned it to them this morning they waved it off and said that it was a problem for tomorrow and headed out to the village. It was something that rubbed you the wrong way, first of all, their tasks weren't complete. Secondly, it's not like running out of firewood would be harmless, it could kill the Countess' daughters. Yes, they were a lot to handle, a lot, but you couldn't understand why the maids thought it was okay in the least to even risk running out of firewood, especially when it's supposed to get so cold outside tonight. So you took it upon yourself to chop some wood, it's something you've done before, but haven't had to do often. You know you're going to be sore tomorrow but in your eyes it's worth it.

Chopping a few more logs you start to sweat more. Glancing around quickly you don't see anyone around so you pull your long sleeve shirt off and toss it aside leaving you in your pants and your camisole. For a moment the cold air bites at your exposed skin but the chill cools you off so much that it's refreshing.

Alcina watches you as you lay the axe against the stump you've been chopping the wood on. She's relieved for a brief second thinking that you're finished until you pull off your long sleeve shirt, wearing just a camisole underneath it. Watching you as you wipe the sweat from your brow, you grab the axe, put another log on the stump, raise your arms and swing.

*THWACK*

When the Countess was looking for a new handmaid you were in the running for the position. She ended up choosing another maid but now she can't quite remember why she didn't chose you. She is captivated as she watches you, she watches the muscles in your back and shoulders move with each swing, how the beads of sweat make your skin glisten in the morning sun, your strong arms, your delicate wrists. She pictures herself pinning your wrists above your head with your back against the wall. She lights a cigarette and closes her eyes, deeply inhaling, exhaling through her nose with a low growl.

*THWACK*

She opens her eyes again and watches you toss the logs onto the pile you've made so far. You've managed to chop a decent amount of wood for the short amount of time you've been out here. Deciding that a few more should do the trick, at least until tomorrow when the person who is supposed to keep the pile stacked refills the rest.

Lady Dimitrescu's attention is pulled away from you when she hears a small knock on her door.

*THWACK*

She turns and goes back inside, the door closing behind her.

Tossing the wood into the pile you see something out of the corner of your eye. Looking up you see the door to the Lady's terrace shut and movement in the window. The morning sun rays are reflecting off of the window too much for you to be able to see inside but you could have sworn that it was her. You begin to pick up the logs and bring them to the pile. Stacking logs in your arms, you go inside and start placing small piles near the fireplaces that are running low.

"Enter." Lady Dimitrescu says, taking a seat at her vanity.

Her new handmaid, Maria, comes in. A tray in her hands with a fresh pot of tea.

"Good morning my Lady."

"You can leave it over on the table." She says, waving in the direction of the table.

*THWACK*

"Is there anything else you need from me, my Lady?"

*THWACK*

Turning her head towards the sound once more Lady Dimitrescu takes a moment before she responds.

"Why is that maid chopping wood outside? I don't believe that is her assignment."

Walking over to the window Maria sees you.

"Oh, yes I saw her speaking to the maids this morning about that. She was gathering wood to tend to the fireplace and noticed that the pile was running low and when she talked to the girls that are responsible for keeping it stocked, they brushed her off and went down into the village. They said that's a 'tomorrow problem.'"

Lady Dimitrescu's eyes narrow at Maria.

"Do they know how cold it's supposed to get tonight?"

"Yes my Lady, y/n had mentioned it."

"And they know my daughters are susceptible to the cold? That it could very well kill them?" She says through gritted teeth.

"I'm not sure my Lady," Maria says nervously. "I don't want to assume, but given their assignment and the fact that every maid is made aware of that, I don't know how they don't."

A growl erupts from Lady Dimitrescu's chest, an anger bubbling inside of her. How can they not care about her daughters safety? About their lives when they were assigned to do the one task that keeps them safe.

"When the maids left, y/n took it upon herself to restock the wood pile, to at least have enough to last through the night." Maria says.

"Very well. That's all." The Countess says, dismissing the maid.

Lady Dimitrescu goes back to the window to find the axe laying against the stump, the logs you cut and the shirt you discarded gone. Her mind wanders back to the sight of you chopping wood. Your glistening, blemish free skin, how she would love to sink her teeth into it. How strong your back and arms looked as you wielded the axe above your head. Your beautiful face, your strong legs. A familiar feeling begins to develop between her legs deep in her core.

She's not sure if it's because of the fact that she hasn't been satisfied in a little while or because of how you looked out there, or because of how you went out of your way to make sure her daughters were safe. Or perhaps it was all of the above. All she knows is that if you were in front of her right now she would throw you onto her bed and ravish you.

The ache in her core grows so she decides to take care of herself before it gets too out of hand.

Making your way through the castle you replenish the wood in the library, the sitting rooms, and each of the girls bedrooms. You decide to take the last stack to the Lady's chambers since you had extra and her room was nearby.

Laying on her bed, her nightgown tossed aside, the Countess works her fingers in and out of herself, replaying the image of you in her head over and over again. Her other hand massages her breast, rolling her hardened nipple between her fingers. Just as she's beginning to feel her orgasm build there's a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" She asks, annoyed that she was interrupted.

"It's y/n, my Lady. I have extra firewood if you need for your room."

Lady Dimitrescu gets up and pulls her robe on, loosely tying it around her waist so she's covered, but open enough to leave little of her chest to the imagination.

The door opens and you look up to see the Countess. You have to snap your mouth shut when you look up to see her in her robe, her large breasts barely covered.

"Enter." She says standing aside. You walk into her room and place the wood next to her fireplace. The click of the door closing gets your attention and you turn to see the Countess slowly walking towards you, like a predator stalking its prey.

"Was that you I saw outside chopping wood this morning?" Her voice is stern.

You stare at her speechless. She did see you. You're not sure if you're afraid or aroused or both.

"Speak pet. I don't like to be kept waiting."

"Y-yes, my Lady."

"I heard you alerted the maids whose responsibility it is to keep the wood pile stocked that it was running low and that the temperature was going to drop significantly tonight, when they did nothing, you took it upon yourself to do another maids work. Is that correct?"

You're fucked, she's pissed, you know it.

"Yes my Lady." You say, your voice barely a whisper.

"Why?"

"Be-because I know the cold can be dangerous to the Ladies of the castle and I-I didn't want any harm to come to them."

You're convinced that she's going to end you right then and there.

"How sweet of you, my little pet." You're taken aback when you realize how soft her tone is. Expecting her to be condescending, you don't sense a hint of it in her voice. She steps up to you, her golden eyes boring into your soul. "Would you like your reward?"

"Reward?"

"Of course, you spent your day off doing physical labor to keep my daughters safe. What kind of Lady would I be if I don't offer you a reward for all of your hard work and dedication?" You stare at her blankly, unsure of what to say. "I'll give you a few options then. You can either take extra vacation days, receive a monetary reward, or, another special reward." Her long fingers dance along the edge of her robe, down her sternum, between her breasts. She pulls the robe open just a touch more and her fingers come to rest at the loosely tied knot at her waist. "So pet, what will it be?"

You feel like you're hallucinating, there's no way this is happening. Of course you've admired the Lady from afar, almost every maid has. But to have her offer you herself as a reward? Did the axe smack you in the head?

Lady Dimitrescu leans forward, her face just inches away from yours. Your eyes flicker to her breasts hanging in front of you, barely covered by her robe anymore. Her gold eyes steal your attention and you notice her pupils dilating.

"Which reward pet? I already told you once, I don't like to be kept waiting."

"Sorry my Lady." You say quietly. "Um," you want to say the special one but suddenly you feel horribly embarrassed. "I-I" Your cheeks turn a dark red that rivals the lipstick painted across her full lips.

"Cat got your tongue?" She teases, her voice low and velvety. The only thing you can do it nod. "Is it the vacation you want?" You shake your head "no." "The money?" Again, you shake your head "no." She smirks, analyzing your face. "Is it the special reward?" You shake your head "yes" this time. "Use your words little pet."

"Y-yes, my Lady. Please."

"Excellent."

She places her hand on your chest and pushes you against the wall in one swift motion. The air gets pushed out of your lungs when you're slammed against the wall. Lady Dimitrescu wraps her hand around your neck and lifts you up against the wall until you're eye level with her. To your surprise, she hasn't cut off your airflow, holding you tight enough to effortlessly lift you, but not enough to choke you. Her knee parts your legs and she presses it up into your core, a whine escaping your lips when you feel her push into you.

She releases your neck, keeping you pinned against the wall with her body weight and her leg. Grabbing your wrists, she pins them above your head against the wall with one of her hands, her other hand firmly grasping onto your waist under your shirt. Her lips brush against yours, you can feel her hot breath on your face. You feel your core begin to throb and hope she doesn't feel it against her leg. Lady Dimitrescu closes her eyes and inhales deeply, she can smell your arousal. Her pupils are blown out when she opens them, the corner of her lip curling just a little.

Her hand under your shirt leaves your skin and she brings two fingers to your lips. Parting them, she slides them into your mouth. Your eyes widen when you taste them, something on them, were you tasting her?

"I was in the middle of something when you knocked on the door. As disappointed as I was to be interrupted, I was happy to see that it was you. I'm sure you can taste what watching you out there did to me. How lucky am I that now I get to have you all to myself?"

She pulls her fingers from your mouth. You're only able to let out a small whine before her fingers are replaced with her tongue. She pulls back with your lower lip between her teeth, pulling a moan from your lips as she does it.

"Now I get to do all of the things I fantasized about."

[misc-obeyme]

Hi there i have been reading your blog for an hour now and im obsessed. Your writing is amazing. May i please request gn! Mc who was just in a fight, and got badly injured, but doesn’t care. So they ask the demon/angel there yo cuddle?

Im so so so sorry of this doesn’t make sense im very tired xD

Preferred characters you can ignore this well the entire request too xD (lucifer, satan, belphie, dia, barb, and simeon)

Here is a cat to keep you company his name is mr. Whisp 🐈

Hello there!

Oh thank you, I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing! (Also thank you for Mr. Whisp I love him.)

Okay, so I wrote these as little scenes instead of the usual bulleted list style, I hope that's okay! They did end up a little longer because of that, though. I did it that way because you requested specific characters and it's easier to write little scenes for fewer characters rather than all of them.

Thank you for the request!

GN!MC gets hurt in a fight, but doesn't care and just wants cuddles with Lucifer, Satan, Belphie, Diavolo, Barbatos, and Simeon

Warnings: MC is hurt! Bruises, blood, general injuries, talk of fighting.

Lucifer

You were standing in front of Lucifer, summoned to his room after he inevitably heard from several of his brothers about the state you were in. You had shown up at the House of Lamentation covered in scrapes and bruises. They all noticed how you were walking with a slight limp and the dark circle that was forming up under one of your eyes.

You had considered blowing him off when you got the message on your D.D.D. that he wanted to see you immediately. You didn't really feel like listening to a lecture about getting into fights. And yet you knew that if you put it off, it'd only be worse later. And secretly you wanted to see him.

Lucifer was observing you with a dark expression, clearly looking over your various injuries.

You kept your arms folded, chin up, and said, "You wanted to see me?"

He didn't say anything at first. You weren't sure if this meant he was so angry he couldn't speak or if he was just trying to make you nervous.

"Explain," he said at last.

You sighed. "I got into a little fight, it was no big deal."

Lucifer quickly closed the distance between you. He took hold of your chin and tilted your face this way and that. "No big deal? MC, you have a black eye. I think perhaps you've also injured your ankle in some way. Do you really think it's okay to risk yourself like this?"

You frowned up at him. "I can handle myself. Just because I got hurt doesn't mean I didn't win the fight."

Lucifer shook his head in exasperation. "That is not the point. Surely the issue could have been resolved without you getting hurt."

You softened a little. "You don't have to worry about me so much, you know."

Lucifer let go of your chin, tracing the tips of his fingers down your cheek lightly. "How can I not when you come in here looking like this? I know you can take care of yourself, but it really is a problem if you-"

You cut him off, catching his hand and stepping in even closer. "Lecture me later. Right now, can't you just hold me?"

You saw his resolve break as his expression changed. He wrapped his arms around you gently, careful to avoid aggravating your injuries. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, unable to hold back as his worry for you spilled over.

"We will treat your injuries shortly," he said into your hair. "And MC, you will not worry me like this again."

You smiled to yourself at this blatant admission of his concern for you. The warmth of his arms was more than enough to make you feel as though you were healing already. You later heard all about how he hunted down those who hurt you (though you could never figure out how he knew who they were). Those demons were never heard from again.

Satan

You sat down across the table from Satan at the library of RAD. There was nobody else around - it was late in the afternoon and all the other students had long since gone home. You knew Satan was there late, taking his time studying for an upcoming curses and hexes exam. You had agreed to meet him there at some point, since you needed to study for that exam as well.

Satan looked up as you sat down and instantly reached out across the table, grabbing your wrist.

"MC," he said, his voice low. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

You knew he was reacting to the bruises on your face and the cut across your forehead that was currently still bleeding a little.

"I'm fine," you said, shrugging a little and pulling your wrist out of his grip. "I just had to take care of something on my way here. Now are we going to study some hexes or what?"

Satan stared at you with wide eyes for a moment. You watched as his face changed, his eyes going dark and his teeth clenching. You could see where this was going and sure enough, he was suddenly in demon form. He half stood out of his chair, leaning across the table and growling.

"Who was it?" he demanded. You could see the tip of his tail twitch just above the table, unexpectedly free rather than wrapped securely around his leg.

You weren't scared because you knew he was contemplating tearing some other demons limb from limb for doing this to you. His reaction was a little over the top, but nothing you weren't expecting. This was Satan, after all.

"I know you're upset," you said. "But it really isn't anything you need to worry about." You placed your hand over one of his, leaning forward yourself to meet him.

His death glare only cooled slightly. "You can't show up to a study session with injuries like that and expect me not to worry, MC."

"I can if I'm telling you that you don't need to worry," you said adamantly. "I need you to trust me. And honestly, it would help me a lot more if you would calm down and give me a hug than if you went off the rails right now."

He was struck by your words, and they caused him to sit back down. Slowly, his demon form left him and he was back in his RAD uniform. The anger still smoldered in his eyes, but it was in competition with how much he cared for you.

Satan closed his eyes, clearly fighting with himself to push down the wrath that continued to simmer in him. After a few moments and some deep breaths, he opened his eyes again. He came around the table, gently taking your hands and pulling you out of your chair.

His eyes roamed over the cut on your forehead, but he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. You pressed yourself to him, letting your own arms return the embrace. The pain of injuries seemed to fade away entirely as you let him comfort you.

You pulled your head away just a little to look at him and as you did so, you saw a splotch of red against the grey fabric of his uniform. "I'm sorry," you said. "I got blood on your uniform."

Satan sighed and pulled you even closer to him, resting his head on your shoulder. "What am I going to do with you, MC? Promise me you'll be more careful. I hate to see you hurt like this."

"I promise I'll be more careful," you said. It was a promise you felt you could keep.

Belphegor

You moved as quietly as you could through the halls of the House of Lamentation, avoiding any of the brothers you came across. You were on your way to the planetarium to meet up with Belphie and you didn't want any of the others to see the state you were in. So you kept to the shadows, moving along the walls until you came to your destination.

You slipped into the room and smiled at Belphie as he looked up at you. He had been nearly dozing off, so he was still a little bleary.

"There you are," he said with a yawn. "You're late."

"I'm sorry," you said, hoping the room was dark enough that he hadn't noticed your cuts and bruises. You sat down next to him, making sure you stayed partly in shadow. "I lost track of the time."

"Hmm, fine, I'll forgive you this time," Belphie said, rubbing at his eyes.

You laughed softly. "Gee, thanks."

Belphie leaned against your shoulder sleepily. You winced. You didn't mean to, but your shoulder was still sore in that spot.

Belphie noticed instantly. He sat up straight and looked at you carefully, the sleepiness suddenly gone. "MC… is that… a black eye?"

You shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Belphie frowned. "It is. You're hurt." He tugged on your arm a little to move you more into the light. You knew he could now see how banged up you really were. "MC! What happened to you?"

"Don't worry about it," you said. "It's not a big deal."

Belphie scoffed. "You got into a fight, didn't you? At least tell me that you gave worse than you got."

"Of course I did," you said.

Belphie stood up. "Hang on," he said. "I'll be right back. Then you should tell me about it."

Belphie was gone for only a few minutes, coming back with a first aid kit in tow. He sat back down next to you and opened it, pulling out a disinfectant wipe. He started to wipe down the scrapes on your face. It stung only a little.

"So? What happened? Did some demons insult you or something?" he asked.

"Yeah," you said. "Well, they said some things that I couldn't just ignore and things escalated quickly. But I can promise you they're suffering worse injuries than I am."

Belphie smirked. "I'm not happy about you being hurt," he said seriously. "But I can't pretend I'm not proud of you, either. You should let us handle stuff like that for you, MC. I know you can take care of yourself, but I don't know if it's worth you getting hurt like this."

Belphie carefully put a bandage over the largest cut.

"It's really no big deal," you said. "Especially since I have you to take care of me."

Belphie frowned, a soft blush creeping across his face. He sighed and put his arms around you. "Just because I'll patch you up doesn't mean you should go around getting yourself hurt."

You leaned into his embrace, nuzzling into him while still being careful of your injuries. "I know. Thank you for taking care of me, Belphie."

Although Belphie stayed by your side that night, you later heard rumors about those particular demons being plagued by nightmares.

Diavolo

You ducked into an empty classroom, having finally gotten away from the scene of the fight. You were covered in scratches and bruises and your lip was bleeding. You had eventually escaped the pandemonium after landing a particularly well thrown punch and running while your opponent was dazed. Now you could take a moment to breathe and figure out what you needed to do for your injuries.

You turned around from the classroom door and froze in shock. Diavolo was standing there in the middle of the room, looking just as shocked as you felt. He stared at you for a long moment, taking in your disheveled appearance, and the blood still dripping down your chin.

"MC," he said and the darkness of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. He came toward you. He put one hand on your arm and lifted the other to wipe the blood off of your bottom lip. He let his touch linger there. "Did a student do this to you?"

You considered telling him exactly which demons you had been dealing with. But then you thought about how you weren't entirely blameless. You engaged with them, after all, and there was no doubt that you'd left a few of them injured.

"Please don't worry about it," you said. "It wasn't like I couldn't handle it."

Diavolo sighed. "That isn't the point, I'm afraid," he said. "It's against RAD policy to fight on the grounds."

You smirked a little. "Are you going to give me detention?"

Diavolo laughed. The sound filled you with a feeling of warmth and contentment. It was his usual laugh and it let you know that everything would be okay. "I don't think that will be necessary," he said. "But if there are students picking fights, I'll have to do something about it."

You put your hand on his where it still lingered by your bloody lip. "You can do something about it later, can't you? I could really use a hug right now."

Diavolo put his hand gently on your cheek then wrapped his other arm around you, pulling you close to him. After a moment he put his other arm around you, too, keeping you safe and warm in his embrace.

"I am so sorry this happened to you, MC," he said into your hair. "Please come back to the castle with me so I can be sure your injuries are properly cared for."

You pressed your cheek against his chest. "Are you really that worried about me? I can handle myself."

"I don't doubt you," he said. "But I would feel much better knowing you are being taken care of. Won't you indulge me?"

It wasn't like you could really refuse him. Especially not when you looked into his gold eyes and saw the deep concern there. So you would allow him to take you back to the castle, where you would stay for the rest of the night. You later heard about the rules regarding fighting at RAD becoming more strict.

Barbatos

You pressed your fingertips into your cheek in an attempt to stop the bleeding from a small cut you had gotten there. You felt that it was the most prominent wound, since it was right on your face, and while you couldn't exactly cover up all your bruises, you hoped you could at least stop the bleeding.

You were waiting for Barbatos in the gardens of the Demon Lord's Castle where you were meeting him for tea.

You weren't delusional. You knew you couldn't hide what had happened from Barbatos. But you still thought it would be better if you weren't actively bleeding.

When Barbatos finally arrived, he was carrying a tray of tea and pastries in his hands. The moment he saw you, he nearly dropped the tray, catching himself just in time. Still it tipped enough for a teacup to go flying off the edge, falling to the ground and smashing into tiny pieces.

You gasped and stood up, an unexpected reaction to the shattered teacup. "Oh don't worry, I can fix that," you said.

You couldn't look at Barbatos as you cast the spell to repair the cup. The pieces lifted into the air and fused back together. The cup landed in your palm, whole again. You straightened up and brought the cup over to where Barbatos was still standing, setting it on the tray before meeting his eyes.

There was an unmistakable aura of distress around him, even though his expression remained neutral. He carefully placed the tray on the table you had previously been sitting at.

"Thank you, MC," he said. "I'm afraid I lost my composure for a moment. I apologize for my clumsiness."

You had to hold in a laugh. Of course he would apologize to you for that. "Don't worry about it," you said.

You were about to sit back down at the table when he caught your arm. "I must inquire about your current state, MC."

You shrugged. "It's nothing important," you said. "Just a little altercation I was in on the way here. But I'm fine."

"I must disagree," Barbatos said. To your complete shock, he touched your cheek, leaving a smudged red stain on his spotless white gloves.

"Barbatos!" you cried, taking his hand. "You're getting my blood all over your gloves!"

It wasn't like Barbatos to allow his gloves to get dirty.

"A small matter compared to the fact that you are currently bleeding, MC," Barbatos said calmly. "You must allow me to tend to these wounds."

You sighed, squeezing his hand in both of yours. "All right. But first won't you…" You blushed, a little embarrassed to ask him to hold you.

But Barbatos knew what you wanted to say. He pulled you down into his lap as he sat down in one of the chairs by the table. You rested your head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you, gently kissing your neck. Much later, he would bandage you up and give you some healing tea. But in that moment, his touch was like the magic you had used on the teacup - making you feel whole again.

Simeon

You fidgeted outside the door to Purgatory Hall. You had come here to spend some time with Simeon, studying while he worked on his latest novel. It was something you had gotten into the habit of doing recently. You were currently concerned about running into Luke and scaring him with the sight of your injuries.

You decided to send Simeon a message on your D.D.D. letting him know you were outside.

He sent you back a question mark sticker, clearly confused about why you didn't just knock on the door.

You waited for a moment instead of responding and the door opened to reveal Simeon, his expression just as confused as the sticker he sent.

"MC?" he asked. Then he got a decent look at you. "Oh, MC. What happened to you?" He grabbed your hand, pulling you inside.

"I'm fine," you said. "Can we just go to your room so I can study?"

Simeon frowned, but he did as you asked. He held your hand tightly as he led you down the hall to his room.

Fortunately, you didn't run into any of the other Purgatory Hall occupants.

When you reached his room, Simeon sat you down on his bed as he stood before you, fingers lightly touching the largest bruise on your face.

"I told you, I'm fine," you said again. "I just didn't want to scare Luke, that's all."

"I appreciate that you were concerned about Luke, MC," Simeon said. "But you really should be worried about yourself, too. These injuries are serious. They need treatment."

You groaned a little and leaned forward, letting your forehead rest on his stomach. "I knew you'd be worried about it," you said. "But I'm fine. And anyway, I'll really start to feel better if you just hold me for a bit."

Simeon chuckled. He gently pushed your head back to make you look up at him. "I could never say no to that," he said. "But you really should let me take care of this later." He let his fingers hover over the various places where you had developed bruises.

"Later," you agreed.

Simeon shook his head, but he sat beside you on the bed. He took you in his arms, leaning back against the pillows so you were lying on his chest. He ran his fingers down your back and kissed the top of your head.

"You really should be more careful in the Devildom, MC," he said.

You snuggled into him more. "It's fine. I can handle myself."

"I have no doubt of that," Simeon said. "But I'd rather you didn't get injured. I can only imagine how the demons you fought are faring."

"Let's just say they'll think twice before messing with me again," you said.

Simeon sighed, but he only held you a little closer.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[bitethedustfools]

TWST Story Idea (12)

Yuu didn't get to go home after all those months spent here in Twisted Wonderland trying to deal with school life, the overblots, and the homesickness.

Yuu didn't take it too well when Crowley broke it to them. What are they supposed to do now? Yuu can't live like this, knowing that their family must be worried sick with their absence.

Moreover, this school life is only temporary. What comes next when everything is over and everyone parts to find their own path? Yuu doesn't have a place in this world. Their existence here is a mistake.

Yuu does not belong here.

Yuu refuses to believe Crowley and takes it upon themselves to scour the whole library. But that will take time given how big it is, and Yuu is only one person.

Not one of their friends is willing to help because they said a book like that doesn't exist, and there's nothing Yuu could do.

But what do they know? Yuu hasn't seen them ransack the whole library, nor did they put in an effort to, so how would they know it's not there?

Yuu keeps searching on, their loyal friend Grim ever by their side, even if he's grumbling about how bored and tiring it is.

But he stayed and helped, even when he feared that he would be left alone one day, and that's all that matters. The relationship with their friends strained just a little bit in doing so, but Yuu thinks it won't matter in the end.

The library hadn't been fully searched when the school life ended, and Yuu feared what became of them after this. Yuu knew that knowing they couldn't go home, they would have to make a new one in this new world, which is not what they would have preferred.

They could stay in that dorm, but Yuu is no longer a student. There's no reason for them to stay here in the dorm that they had fixed. Crowley had said so; he owned it and gave them shelter, so it's natural that he will take it all back.

He is not that generous at all, even though this was his problem Yuu was here in the first place.

With this being said, Yuu decided to become a teacher, replacing Professor Mozus Trein, who is now retiring, and Grim will be taking over Lucius's position.

Teaching history is no problem; Yuu already wasted some of their life in that classroom and that library. Yuu couldn't believe they knew Twisted Wonderland history much better than their own, but Yuu supposed that it's vital for their job.

This way, Yuu can continue going to the library, even though being a teacher is far from what they always wanted to be. But it's not like they have any choices, isn't it?

There are also advantages in being a teacher. One is that Yuu can do whatever they want because they are now an adult. They could talk back to Crowley face to face now.

Second is that if the library held not one clue to the way back home, which would make Yuu insane if NRC didn't really have such a book, Yuu is able to request any visitation to any other college, partly because Yuu has such a good connection with them.

Yuu's friends sometimes visit them out of the blue, bearing gifts and coaxing Yuu to visit their places as well, going as far as to crash the classroom and so forth. It was thoughtful, albeit annoying, but the implication did not escape Yuu's observation.

It's not going to work. Yuu thought of this over and over again every time their friends tried to bond with them.

Yuu will leave this place one day, and all those memories and relationships will be for naught. Yuu would rather they have no good feelings towards this world for fear they will have a desire to return here again. Yuu doesn't have the courage to leave their family once more if they managed to come home.

Yuu would have to be indifferent to their approach, reject every reaching hand, and drown themselves in dust and pages.

How long will Yuu stay here? To what length will Yuu go for the sake of going home?

Yuu glanced at the black Magestone kept properly in the chest. The Magestone that appeared the moment Grim's overblot was over.

The glimmer in their eyes shone like a star.

All Yuu needs is magic.

-

*Yandere is alright. The characters probably burned the book so Yuu could stay. They have patience and believe that Yuu will finally let go and pick one of them to settle down.

*Would the angst be great in some friends' POV?