#it's realizing your own worth and place in the world and claiming it

[zephyrchama]

Movie Night with Diavolo and Barbatos

A self-indulgent fic (under the read more) inspired by the The Brothers' Hobbies Devilgram story.

SFW fluff, gender neutral reader, it's like 1.5k words long? I just threw together whatever because I wanted to imagine a cozy movie night.

Very few beings in either of the three realms ever got to witness Diavolo or Barbatos in their pajamas. You were the lucky soul who got to see both as they guided you through the castle for a special movie marathon night. Sweatpants and a loose robe were a nice change of pace from the usual stiff-collared uniforms Diavolo typically wore. He excited donned the dragon slippers you gifted him once. Barbatos had his matching owl slippers on under a slimmer, flowier set of pajamas with matching button-up top and bottoms. The fabric looked incredibly smooth, with not a single wrinkle.

The room they led you to was dimly lit. The curtains were drawn so that starlight couldn’t shine through the windows, in front of which were various stacks of DVDs as tall as you. A plush three-person couch had been placed right in the room’s center, squarely in front of a projector that took up an entire wall. In the back of the room closest to where you all entered was a table piled high with treats. Most of it was an approximation of human world movie snacks, but Barbatos had clearly done his best.

"Are those nachos?" You asked. "Pretzels and popcorn... That's so many toppings... M&Ms!? Really? Are those real?"

Barbatos chuckled. "Indeed. Seeing your face light up was worth all the effort to procure them. Please, take as much as you'd like."

Barbatos and Diavolo went to claim their seats on either side of the couch, but encouraged you to take your time with the food. Diavolo clutched a half dozen blockbuster movies in his hand.

“Will you get a plate for me too? I can’t decide what we should start with.” He hummed and hawed, turning each package over to read their summaries.

By the time you were ready, Diavolo had made a choice and loaded up the movie’s main menu. You carried the heaping plates over with enough food for everyone. They each offered to hold them while you sat down.

There was not a lot of room to sit. Despite seating three, Diavolo could have taken up half of the couch by himself and Barbatos was being unusually liberal with how much space he took up. They happily motioned for you to take a seat, Diavolo grinning like a kid.

You sandwiched yourself between them as best you could, wiggling until your back touched cushions. It felt awkward basically distributing your weight over the side of their laps, but neither one made any outward signs of acknowledgement. It was very warm between the two demons. With your thighs brushing those on either side of you, you could confirm their pajamas really were soft. It was incredibly cozy. They both smelled like a recent shower.

“Ready?” DIavolo asked once you were settled in with your plate. “I thought we’d start with an action film to really kick things off on a high note. Let’s begin!”

The bright film cast a gentle light over the three of you. Every time something exploded or a twist occurred, Diavolo would whoop and laugh. He was a very expressive movie watcher.

“This is rather delicious,” he commented in a low voice after cleaning his plate. Diavolo leaned into your ear, bumping your shoulder with his own.“Mind if I try some of yours?”

“Feel free. Barbatos, you too.” There was plenty left, not to mention the entire table of food. Every few minutes his highness would pluck a chip or handful of chocolates off your plate. You realized shortly before the credits that it should have run out already with the two of you constantly snacking. Was it refilling itself?

You turned to Barbatos. His eyes were already transfixed on you instead of the projector, as if you were the night’s main event. “Is something wrong?”

You pointed to the magic plate. “Are you doing this?”

He merely smiled, neither confirming or denying. You softly nudged him in the side in appreciation as he whispered, “if there’s anything you need, just ask.”

As the action flick finally ended, Diavolo leaned forward to browse through the other movies. “What shall we watch next? Romance? Comedy?” He asked as you took advantage of the extra space to stretch.

“I believe romance and comedy often go together, so we could watch both genres at once,” Barbatos said.

“Oh! What about this? It’s very famous, right?” Diavolo thrust an old horror movie at you. You’d heard the name before and vaguely knew its plot, but never actually saw it.

”Yeah, everyone in the human world knows that movie.”

“Then we’ll go with this!”

He loaded it up, while Barbatos sifted through the pile and pulled out a disk. “Let us put this romance comedy on standby.”

The horror movie was way scarier than you thought. Weren’t old films supposed to have cheesy graphics and a now-overdone plot? This was gory and dark. Barbatos and Diavolo were actually laughing at the chainsaw-wielding maniac on screen. “Hilarious! I thought the comedy was after this?” Diavolo exclaimed. You realized once again that demons were not normal.

You put on a brave face and powered through the movie, intent on not ruining their good time. But a particular jumpscare caught you off-guard, prompting a shriek as you shakily turned away from the movie. That turned all the attention on to you. “Sorry, sorry. Don’t mind me, just surprised me,” you stammered.

“Do you find this scary?” Diavolo asked. “This silly thing?”

Barbatos apologized, saying “I hadn’t considered this could be distressing for you. I’ll turn it off immediately.”

“No, it’s fine! We can keep watching,” you insisted while diverting your eyes from the scene on the screen.

Diavolo grabbed your hand. “Nothing could possibly hurt you when we’re here. Isn’t that right, Barbatos? Why, I dare say you’re with the two strongest men in the whole Devildom. We could stop a thousand of these murderous humans.” His lighthearted smile was reassuring as always as he belted out another laugh.

“Would it help if we held your hands?” Barbatos suggested. It was a childish recommendation, but tempting nonetheless. “We could even lock arms, and if the film becomes too much, you can rely on one of us to block it out for you.”

That sounded agreeable, and you approved of it just to get their attention back to the movie. You were thankful the two self-professed strongest demons in the realm would be so accommodating for you. Though embarrassing at first, it did help to bury your head in one of their sides any time things got too horrific.

Any time you jumped towards Diavolo, he would wrap his arm around your shoulders and bring you in closer for a comforting side hug. He’d make small comments, “this actor is very good, does he have any other famous works? I wonder if they filmed this on a set,” so you could focus on the sound of his voice instead of the televised screams.

Any time you jumped towards Barbatos, he would cover your ears and bring your forehead against his chest. It helped to focus on the calm, steady beating of his heart until the scene ended. One hand would gently brush through your hair and down your back until you were composed again.

This film was thankfully shorter than the first one. As you excused yourself to the restroom, you heard Diavolo comment about how it was “too short,” with Barbatos agreeing it was “more fun than expected.” You hoped they really meant the movie, and not the way you acted.

Upon returning, Barbatos had prepared a large fluffy blanket.

“It’s getting quite late, and as you know the Devildom gets rather cold at night.”

You doubted you could get cold while wedged between these two on a sofa. Though, It did add to the movie viewing experience.

The third movie was, as expected, much lighter and more enjoyable. You could laugh along with them and at times explain aspects of human culture important to the plot. 

“If she doesn’t want her ex to show up, why doesn’t she just cast a warding spell? Such an easy solution.”

“Humans usually can’t cast magic. Until I got here, I didn’t even know magic was real.”

”Oh! Right.”

Maybe it was all the food, or the addition of the blanket, or the overall coziness of the situation. Your eyelids were starting to get heavy and interest in the film was waning. “Hey, I know we’re only on the third movie, but how many of these are we watching tonight?”

Diavolo stared at you. “As many as we can! We have all those.” He gestured to the massive collection by the windows.

”My lord, some will have to wait until next week.”

“Right, but the night is still young!”

You were at a loss for words. It had been five hours so far. “I don’t… Uh… I’ll try my best, but like, I don’t know if I can stay up that long,” you admitted. Did these two ever even sleep? They were in pajamas, so maybe?

“That is a problem.” Barbatos seemed troubled, unable to think of a solution that didn’t involve delaying their schedule.

“Well, let’s just keep going,” Diavolo offered. “It can’t be helped if you’re tired, but we can still get through what we can. I greatly enjoy having you here! Both as a friend and to clarify what’s happening.” He ruffled your hair before turning his eyes back to the screen.

Before you realized it, you were waking up from a snug slumber. You don’t remember falling asleep, only that you guys had finished the romantic comedy and started on something sci-fi with robots.

On the screen now was a documentary about birds.

“Oh, awake now? This movie’s getting really good, I think you’ll like it.” You were more focused on how nonchalant Lord Diavolo was acting about being your pillow. You quickly and apologetically lifted your head from his lap.

Barbatos had apparently moved you into a more comfortable position while you slept, as the lower half of your body was in his lap as well. He helped you sit up, “careful not to fall now. But yes, this film is most fascinating. Can I get you anything? Some water?”

There were half a dozen questions running through your mind, but the first one out was “what time is it?”

“6:15am, nearly time for the Young Master to begin his day.”

DIavolo huffed. He couldn’t fight the looming workload he had to deal with, so he popped a potato chip into his mouth instead. Despite your insistence that you would sit normally, the two of them equally insisted you lay down and stay comfortable for the remainder of the documentary. It was peaceful.

When all was done, Barbatos procured everyone a change of clothes and started wrapping up the food table. First pick of leftovers went to you. “Would you like to take it all?” he asked.

“Don’t think I can finish all that, but Beel can help me.”

Diavolo went to change in the other room, but called out, “There's still so much we have to watch, and I'd like to go back over the ones you missed! What do you say, same plans for next week? Same day, same time?”

That sounded good to you.

---

(Thanks for reading!) (bonus pic I wanted to put in the text but didn't want to interrupt the story)

[wenigstenshabeichesversucht]

Golden Hour

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!Reader

Summary: Everything Luke did was out of love for you

Warnings: Ominous Foreshadowing, english is not my native language

Word Count: 979

The sun was slowly going down and the camp was buzzing with life. Around Luke, campers were rushing around, everyone was trying to finish their afternoon activities before it was time for dinner. But he only had eyes for you. You, who were sitting with a few other campers, a guitar in your lap and glowing like the sun. With your sun-kissed skin and your smile brighter than the star you all revolved around, nobody could doubt that you were Apollo's daughter. Of course, he couldn’t help to gravitate to you like the earth did to the sun. You were his sun.

For a short moment, doubt overwhelmed him. Finally, you seemed happy. But in a world like this, your happiness wouldn’t last unless he took care of it personally. Therefore, he had to do it. He had to do it for you. Because he remembered. He remembered the many months you were struggling in the Hermes Cabin, still unclaimed, asking yourself, far too often, why you weren’t worth it. Back then, seeing your self-doubt had destroyed a part of Luke. He always had known that you were worth more than the gods could ever give you. And, it seems, like he had to take matters in his own hands.

He could only hope that someday you would understand his motivations. However, even if you didn't, at least you would have a better life. And that was enough for him. You had already given him more than he ever hoped for since arriving at camp. He would always remember it, like he remembered your arrival.

You were lost, figuratively speaking. Three days ago, some guy, half boy, half goat had told you, your father was a god, and now you were hunted down by monsters. Of course, first, you didn’t believe him. But the evidence was speaking for itself, and after you barely escaped a monster attack with your life, you couldn't deny it anymore.

When you finally reached Camp Half-blood, a sanctuary for kids like you, you were so relived, that you didn’t die, that you felt like crying. So, this was what you did. You started to cry ugly, fat tears were streaming down your face while you gasped for air.

This was how Luke found you. And even with fourteen years, he found your beauty rivalling Aphrodite’s. Not that he would ever say that out loud, gods were merciless when it came to things like that.

He took you under his wings. In a world where you felt like an intruder, he gave you a home. It quickly became clear that you were not a child of Hermes. Living in the far too full cabin, you couldn’t help but feel out of place. They told you, all you had to do was find the thing you were good at, and your father would claim you. But days, then weeks, then month went by, and you stayed at the Hermes cabin. The only thing that kept you sane was your friendship with Luke.

But luck wasn’t on your side, and Luke had to go on a mission. Following the god’s wishes, he left you behind. Many nights, you cried yourself to sleep, feeling worthless. Until after 7 months, your father finally took pity on you.  

  

Luke barely managed to get back from his mission. The cut he received had become inflamed. He didn’t remember how he got back to camp, but when he opened his eyes, he thought he had died and ended in the Elysium.

Your face was hovering over him, and you were glowing. Gently, your fingers were working their way over his wound and Luke needed a moment to realize, that you were healing him.

“Welcome back, hero”, you whispered when you saw that he was finally awake. “I missed you.”

Probably not more than he missed you. But he didn’t say it. Instead, he chose another topic.

“Looks like he finally claimed you”, his words made a happy smile form on your lips. However, Luke wasn’t happy. He could only think about, how he would miss your presence in the Hermes Cabin and at the dinner table.

Back in the present, you finished the lesson. Giving the guitar to one of your siblings, you made your way to Luke. You were so much more than his best friend, but he had never talked about his feelings for fear of complicating things. However, everything would soon change, and he would have to leave.

“Walk with me?”, he asked and with hesitation you agreed.

Without thinking, his feet led him to the lake, where the sun kissed the water on the horizon.

“Something is bothering you”, you broke the silence, after a moment of just watching the sunset.

Taking a deep breath, Luke tried to calm his nerves. All these years he hadn’t mustered up the courage, but from today on this would all be in the past.

“Some things will change in the near future, but I want you to know, that my feelings about you will never change.”

“Your feelings about me?”, you echoed surprised, and instead of an answer, Luke did the one thing, which he had been waiting for since he was 14 years old. He kissed you. You did what he always dreamed of, you kissed him back.

“Everything I do, I will do for you. I would fight for you, I would lie for you, and I would die for you”, Luke whispered against your lips, after you interrupted the kiss to gasp for air.

“I love you too”, that was all he wanted to hear. Looking down at you, the last sunbeams of the day were illuminating your face, he couldn’t help but think, that you were his golden hour. But now the night was starting, and he could only hope, that tomorrow the sun would rise again.

[boytearscore]

why can’t i hate you? — matt sturniolo & chris sturniolo.

summary: being best friends with chris and nick meant the world to you, it also meant you had to deal with their brother’s hate, rudeness, eye rolls, mean comments and coldness all the time. but that didn’t bother you, in fact, it was actually always a pleasure to annoy the shit out of him constantly.

warnings: swearing, enemies to lovers, best friends to lovers, love triangle (not threesome), toxic behavior, angst, comedy, possible smut and of course, strong female lead.

taglist: @sleepysturniolo, @soshere, @spideylovin, @calisturniolo, @ilovecheese09.

author’s note: this chapter was an intense one, hope you guys enjoy reading it just as much i enjoyed writing it. don’t forget to leave your thoughts down below the comments, and of course, have fun!

chapter one here.

chapter two.

chris was the first one to get out of bed, meaning he just open his eyes after trying to sleep the whole night. he didn’t get a fucking blink of rest. first because he was thinking about you, not being able to cope with the fact that he was partially responsible for making you feel at ease and sleep better which meant his touch and presence was good for you.

if his presence and care subconsciously calmed you down, that means it’s worth a shot, right?

he sighs, that leads to the second thing that kept him awake.

matt, of course. that was probably the first time they argued over a girl. they never had the same type, but this isn’t about type. it’s about you. and although he wasn’t sure if his brother had actual romantic feelings, the voice of intuition inside his head screamed yes over and over again.

he grabs his phone on the nightstand next to the bed and checks the time before opening titkok in order to make the thoughts go away, occasionally chuckling at some dumb weird ass videos on his for you page, but that wasn’t working as much as he wanted to. chris ponders for a while, staring at the ceiling and decides it’s best to take a shower, he throws his phone on the bed and slowly gets up, almost crawling to the bathroom.

the boy closes the door behind him, taking his clothes off and grabbing his toothbrush, immediately brushing his teeth as he goes start the shower head, stepping in and letting out a sigh of relief, the warm water relaxing the tense muscles of his back and shoulders. he suddenly catches himself thinking about last night again. both the good and bad events, you’ve been friends for so long and nothing like that happened before, sure, he already had a crush, but the urge to fight for you was definitely unforeseen.

he never thinks twice when it comes to fighting guys that are assholes to you, but that never happened because you knew how to defend yourself pretty well. as a matter of fact, that’s part of the reason why he’s so attracted to you, but that’s besides to point, the thing is that you’ve dated other guys before and he didn’t care about it, it was like he just came to terms with the fact that he never had a chance to begin with, he was convinced no guy will ever be good enough for you, not even him. that’s why he never said anything and… oh, right. also the fact that it could ruin your friendship completely.

however after last night, something changed that led to the conflict inside him. well, not something. someone. his own brother, for the first time in years he saw matthew acting without thinking. the matt from some days ago would never let you get to his head, not the mention the sudden move. he showed interest to literally no girls for a long time, but then tries to kiss you? the one he claims to despise to the core?

chris realized he has been there for more than 10 minutes and if nick finds out, he’d be dead. so, he finishes washing off the shampoo from his hair and the toothpaste foam from his lips, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist before walking over to the mirror and taking a glance at himself while placing his toothbrush inside the holder. he runs a hand through his wet hair falling over his eyes, pushing it back and opening the door still looking at the mirror.

“you’re such a narcissistic.” you said standing at the door frame of the bathroom, arms crossed and a smirk on the lips.

actually, you‘ve been awake for a while, but the house was quiet and you never leave the room when you guys have sleepovers before chris and nick does. you weren’t a very nice person right after waking up and facing matt’s comments in that state would actually turn gruesome really fast. the only reason why you got up was because god gave you the useless talent of distinguishing chris laughter by the way he squeaks. you’re quite proud of it, in secret, of course. knowing him, he was probably on tiktok before heading to the shower, you waited for a while and finally left the guest room exactly when he was about to get out of the bathroom.

your eyes were unconciously catching every detail of him, the wet hair he just brushed back and the few strings still falling over his eyes, making small water drops fall on his chest.

being the closest person to nick and chris probably meant that you already saw them leaving the bathroom after a shower using only a tower over their waist a million times right? wrong.

it’s in fact the first time you see so much of chris body, one thing is to see him shirtless on daily basis, and a whole different when he’s naked, just with a piece of cloth over his… dick.

of course you thought he was hot before, more like acknowledging it and not making it a big deal, after all, he was your best friend, but right now, that didn’t matter. you felt actual attraction to him, real bad. without thinking, you bite your lip, not being able to stop your eyes from casting down, admiring his well figured. his slightly defined torso, his collarbones, his lower stomach and then… his groin.

“like what you see?” his husky voice makes you avert gaze to his stupid cocky smirk, he knew you were thirsting over him.

“maybe.” you murmur smiling, you weren’t scared of exposing yourself, not now, not ever. nick and chris always tease you for having a flirty personality so your response wasn’t a surprise, wherever you start jokingly flirting with him, he would laugh and give right back to you, not taking it seriously.

but this time he didn’t laugh, he leaned closer to you without needing to actually walk, you both were already face to face, thanks to your decision to stand in the door frame, his post shower scent making a funny tingling sensation rush over your body.

chris swallows, his eyes fixed into yours. he loves the way you're always so bold, confident and fucking bossy. it’s a side of you he's seen often at parties you guys go to and even at hangouts, but he never experienced it being directed at him until now, and that makes his confidence grow more and more by second, so he decides to go for it, inclining his whole body against yours, standing so close that drops of water from his wet hair started falling on your chest making you shiver from the coldness. the towel over his waist didn’t not prevent you from looking down.

he catches your gaze drifting down to it before moving back up to his eyes. “sure, that’s definitely a maybe.” he smirks at you, clearly amused by the way you were salivating over him.

“it’s not a secret to anyone you’re hot, is it?” you raise a brow at him, arms crossed. his minty breath against your face making you wonder how good it would feel to kiss him.

“and yet you still feel like it's something worth pointing out." he lifts his hand and gently tugs on the collar of your tank top, pulling you even closer to the point where you actually felt his dick brushing against your stomach.

“meaning?” you know what he meant, but engaging the interaction was actually interesting. you were aware this was affecting him just as much it was affecting you.

chris looks down, his eyes meeting yours. his hand is still grasping the collar of your top, holding you closer to him.

“you know exactly what i mean.”

“i do.” you whisper, shivering with the closeness and following his gaze. “but i want you to say it.”

he glances down at your mouth, his eyes lingering there for a moment before looking back up at you. there’s not a chance of him backing down now, fuck his fears, fuck matt and fuck all of his worries from earlier. you managed to awaken a side of him no one else knew, not even him. he shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, this time he only leans his head a bit closer, since it was almost impossible to get his body closer to yours. unfortnunelly.

he goes for your ear, lips brushing against your it as he asks. “you want me to say how much i know you're attracted to me?"

the sensation of his breath on your ear definitely got to you, it was one of your weakest spots and the asshole already knew that because you tell him everything.

but you couldn’t let him get away with it.

“no.” you let your hand cup his face, putting pressure around his chin with your fingers to turn his face to you. “i want you to admit how much you enjoyed the way i just looked at you.” your eyes glued to his and your signature smirk on the lips making him laugh in a mixture of surprise and lust at your forwardness.

“can’t say i didn’t.” you noticed his eyes darkened with a hint of lust when he dropped his gaze, wandering over your partly exposed chest, the tank top so tight he could see the tiny metal balls of your nipple piercings standout, chris feels goosebumps all over, his minding racing with the thought of taking your boobs into his mouth and licking the metallic taste of it while you moan his name. he lets out a soft gasp, the combination of the pressure of your fingers on his face and the friction of his dick brushing against your stomach not helping.

“like what you see?” you ask noticing how lost he was in thoughts and he frowns, feeling annoyed because you used his words against him. no matter how much anyone tries to make you lay your guard down, to get a shy reaction or even a stutter from you, it has never worked and he wanted badly to be the first one actually doing so, but he figured this wasn’t the timing. plus he was starting to get hard and if nick or matt walked on you both, things would get really awkward.

“there’s no winning against you, huh?” chris chuckles softly, taking a step back and you laugh a little trying to hide your disappointment from him.

“that’s because guys are weak.” you say loosening the grip on his chin and rolling your eyes, he just gives you a “whetever” face and heads to his room, pretending he wasn’t about to throw up his own heart.

you watch him until he gets to his room, a pleasant grin across your lips. all these years being friends with chris, he never really tried anything like that before. as a matter of fact, you didn’t even know he was so confident, he’s usually sweet and nonserious around you so that left you impressed and surprised… in a good way.

you shrug thinking that was definitely interesting and turns to the hall, the intention was to go to the living room but that didn’t go as planned when your face bumped aggressively into something hard as rock.

you hated that you instantly knew.

ever since last night's incident, tiny fragments got stuck with you. his scent, his presence and the warmth of his body. it's almost like you suddenly developed the power of being able to recognize him just by your skin touching his.

it was fucking matt.

you sigh, dealing with matthew right now wasn’t what you wanted. not because you felt intimidated by him, but because you didn’t want to play his little games today.

he gives you the usual mocking stare and smirk, crossing his arms.

here we go. you thought, ready to roll your eyes at whatever childish comment he was about to make and not engage.

but he just stood there for a while, arms folded, his usual stone cold demeanor ever present. he looked at you with a mix of irritation and annoyance, but beneath that, you could tell something else seemed to be lurking. for a second you thought he wasn’t gonna say anything and prepared yourself to go on your way, but his piercing gaze remained fixated on you, that made you stay for some reason.

and then he spoke.

“you can’t control your hormones or something?” he almost yelled. “always flirting with everyone, now even with chris.” matt laughs ironically and asks you. “isn’t that what they call a bop, though?”

you can’t help but laugh right back at him in the exact same tone, like, really loud.

of course he would use that term at some point, he was just like that type of guy. so you decided to play the game, anyways.

you get closer to him not giving a shit about how you were crossing his physical boundaries since he crossed yours first a night ago.

“not really.” you whisper to him, eyes piercing cold directly into his. “it’s called being confident and taking risks to enjoy life without denying your own true desires.” you lean even closer, not breaking eye contact for a second and giving him your best fake smile. “but what would you know about that, right?” at this point, the fake smile turned into a satisfied one with the feeling of already knowing that what you were about to say was gonna make him incredibly mad. “you couldn’t even admit to yourself how much you wanted to kiss me last night and just ran away to your room like a pussy.” you scoff and walk to the living room still looking at him as you leave, letting a dumbfounded matt behind.

chris was right.

there’s no winning against you. and never will be.

[mamayan]

Psp psp 👀 genya thirsts please? 🤲

Nonnie I’m literally full of them of course— I personally see Genya as a switch so we’ll be playing around with that here (even though I adore him as a submissive too).

Genya Shinazugawa Thirsts ★彡

cw: NSFW • Fluff • Genya HC • A lil angst • GN! Reader • Praise Kink • Suggestive Themes • Oral mentioned • Switch! Genya (not really Dom, more pleasure top at best tbh) • Slightly Top!/Switch! Reader

Genya isn’t shy in the traditional sense. He’s not afraid of being the one to confess his love first, or even being rejected.

Problem is, he expects to be rejected. He’s understanding of it even. His own perception of self worth revolves around his ability to be useful, and while he’s proud to call himself a Demon Slayer, he finds himself lacking as a man a lot of the time.

He looks up to Sanemi and adores him a great deal, but doesn’t use him as a role model for love and expressing it. Instead he looks at Gyomei, a gentle and pious man who gives advice like “write a love poem from the depths of your heart.”

So when Genya confesses and he’s not rejected? He’s the sort to follow advice given to the letter, which makes for comically awkward and tender approaches.

Genya will present you with flowers, carefully arranged, but he knows nothing of flowers, so you’ll be sneezing immediately. They’re super pollen filled and smell obnoxious, but your heart will be full from the thought and effort alone. He apologizes profusely. Then will come the love letters, but as a Shinazugawa, the words of love will boarder on threats. “My heart burns when I see you, so much love fills me that I feel it may be the end for me in your presence.” You’ll wonder if he’s joking or has a heart condition. He knows he’s got a mean and scary looking face, many have told him so, and to remedy that… he will even wear makeup to make himself look less scary! (This may have been pointed out by Inosuke, his heart in the right place but the end results more for humor than anything). It’s too late by the time Tanjiro comes to rescue his friend, you’re in tears laughing at the clown his friends turned him into. It works on making him less scary to you though—

He’ll relax eventually, but he’s stiff and terrified of making even the smallest mistake… and the end result of that is making tons of mistakes. Once he realizes he can truly be himself, he’s the sweetest most devoted man you could ask for. He’s less prickly than his older brother, more ready to fall head first into the love jar with you. He’s a sap, truly seeing you as an angel who can do no wrong.

When it comes to being physical, he loves pda. Except, he likes it most when you show it. He’s constantly being rejected publicly or privately by his dearest elder brother, so when you show claim over him? It makes him ecstatic! Throw an arm around his waist, hold his hand, hug him, kiss him even. Show the world he belongs to you. It makes him melt into a puddle. He’ll even get a little smug if you do it in front of his friends, smirking even as his face goes molten red. He’ll pass away if you sit on his lap though, be careful of his weak heart. Tough exterior doesn’t translate to inside unfortunately.

Genya is a gentleman despite his rough appearance, he’s waiting on you to make all the first moves. He’s asking permission and consent constantly thereafter, and he’s very keen on your body language. You’ll have to ignore his body language when he tells you to, because despite his wishes he tenses up and freezes sometimes when he gets embarrassed. It takes a little for him to relax after that happens, just keep kissing him please, he’ll beg if he has to.

That’s how it’s like with deeper intimacy too, Genya becomes whiny and shy, stuttering and a bit foolish. He’s just desperate for you, make no mistake about it. He’s got good control though, holding still when you tell him, being very good for you. Use him for your pleasure, he really does insist. Genya’s favorite positions are any he can see you in, more specifically when you ride him.

He derives pleasure from you being pleased, so with oral he prefers to give rather than receive. Not that he doesn’t like receiving, your mouth on his cock leaves him a drooling mess, but Genya can find his end just by giving you head. Hearing you moan and cry for him makes him delirious with happiness, so use his Mohawk like a handle and hold on tight.

While Genya is giver, he does have a few triggers which set off a more dominant side of him. He can’t help himself honestly… usually it’s jealously. If someone else is flirting with you it riles him up. He gets more brash and mean, not towards you of course, but he does try and fight them quite readily. It leaves him insecure after too, afraid you’ll see his flaws and weakness and leave him.

So when you don’t, and when you comfort him, he just needs you.

Whining into your mouth how much he loves you, all while his hips pound you into the bed and you cum again. He’s fucking you stupid and not even on purpose, he’s just overcome with emotion he needs to let out, and what better way than to make love to you? Even if that love making turns into a sloppy fucking with your cute face pressed down and hips yanked high so he can kiss you inside a little deeper. He’s crying your name while he fills you up, and he really can’t help how his cock stays hard even after, thrusting again inside you soon after while you mewl and try to crawl away from all the pleasure and overstimulation.

He’s yanking you easily back onto his cock, head thrown back as he mindlessly babbles praises for you. “Ah fuck—so good on my cock, make me feel so fuckin’ good—l-love you, I love you—!” You’re too fucked out to do much else but cum for him, eyes watery and helpless as he shows you how much he loves you. Enjoy the stamina of Genya Shinazugawa, he’s got endless energy. He’ll fuck you till he’s shooting blanks.

He’s so sweet after too, kissing and holding you, profusely apologizing of course because you passed out eventually, and thanking you too for making him feel so good. He’s running around heating up a bath, bringing you sweets or whatever you crave. He goes right back to your sweet ‘Nya once he’s secure in his heart again.

Feel free to take revenge after too. He won’t admit it until he’s denied his fourth or fifth orgasm, but he adores when you take charge and top him. Play away to your heart’s desire, Genya is able to take all you give him, like the good boy he is. Panting like a dog after you curb his orgasm again, his body tied up and spread for you to do whatever you please. He’ll cry, sob even, for release. Begging his master for mercy, while you coo and tease him. “Poor puppy, what’s wrong hm? I thought you loved everything I do.” You have him there, because he’ll admit his deepest secrets like this. “I-I do! I love it! T-tease me more, please, master, m-make a mess of me,” he’s adorable like this, obedient and cute all for you. He’ll probably want to die a little if you just leave him like that too, but he’s so cute, you’ll find it hard to just walk away— unless it’s a punishment of course.

Genya is open to most any kink you might have… as long as it doesn’t hurt you. He’s fine if the pain is directed at him, he can take it after all, but he won’t do any breath play, no tight bondage, no whips or chains for you unless you’re the one wielding them, and of course no sharing you. Genya would rather tear someone’s eyes out and light them on fire than let them even see you naked. It makes him feral and enraged immediately. However, the thought of being seen with you doing something to him, makes him wildly aroused.

Genya would never bring it up in a regular conversation, but he’s got a small exhibition kink. If he were the one to been seen tied up and naked with you playing with him? He may just cum immediately. It ties into you claiming him too, showing how much he is to you, who he belongs to.

Genya also has a praise kink. It works both ways too, he wants to be praised and praise you too. “Such a good boy Genya, my sweet love, filling me up so good,” his eyes are rolling back, hips stuttering as he begs to cum. “Y-you feel so good—fuck, tight—wanna be inside you forever, feel you wrapped a-around my cock like this till I die—!” He’s losing control when you cum.

Overall Genya is a top tier lover and golden find. He’s loyal, devoted, and filled with adoration to shower on you.

Dividers/@cafekitsune

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Hey 👋🏽!!,

I just want to stop by and say I absolutely love your fics, you capture Daryl so well😍. I was wondering if you could write something where Norman stops by his restaurant in Senoia for a quick meeting and sees the hot new waitress working there and it's lust at first sight🥵😈 .. He has to have her.. They meet up after her shift takes her back to his home and c o m p l e t e l y ruins her 🥴🫠: Blowjob & swallow, NORMAN WHIMPERING 😩🤌🏽 as reader sucks him off, deep fingering, face sitting & squirt, eating out tongue fuck!ng, ROUGH doggie style with a sloppy creampie breeding kink ending 😮‍💨 WHEW LAWD😶‍🌫️🫣, I hope this isn't too off the rails for you 🙃 Below is an aesthetic of what I want female reader and Norman to look like

"The New Girl"

Please and thank you 🙏🏾 🤭

GIRL. OMFG. THE WAY YOU DID NOT HOLD BACK AT ALL?? LITERALLY CURLING MY TOES PULLING MY HAIR KNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE

I’m actually really scared because this is gonna be my first time ever writing for Norman, or an actor in general, and I’m just nervous for this to come out like super corny or I write him super out of character and it’s like your average fangirl fanfic but tbh we’re just gonna close our eyes, spin around in circles and god willing nothing bad happens

The reader is black, obvs, but it’s written in a way where everyone can still enjoy and squeeze their thighs together, you’ll just be one of us in this story ���

Also how did I not know Norman had a restaurant… three actually…

This definitely has a word count of atleast 4k my phone actually started to slow down everytime I opened this

@blackvelveteen1339 I hope I did you justice cause holy fucking hell this was the hottest request EVER ❤️❤️

THE NEW GIRL

“Are ya' impressed yet?”

Everyone knows that moving to another place will always be the hardest feature in life, let alone moving to a whole new city in a whole different state.

Senoia was absolutely stunning, with breathtaking views and beach perfect weather. It was totally everything that you had hoped it would be, and so was your little studio apartment, which wasn’t bad at all considering the cozy size, not to mention there were quite a few stores around, also well as the infamous main street.

You sighed, a twinge of sadness. At almost twenty-seven, this would be your first time ever living alone, having lived with your parents for a huge chunk of your life. You were still young and wanted to go out into the big world on your own, and for the longest Georgia had been calling out your name.

Some of your friends and family had discouraged you from going, claiming that it was ridiculous to move so far away from home so carelessly. For a minute, you had even thought so yourself, repeating it over and over again in your head that it wasn’t worth it, or that it was just a dumb dream, and you didn’t even have a path in mind. It was a reckless thing to do, to go into a whole new state with no clue on what you wanted to do with yourself, let alone who you wanted to be.

Yet, here you sat in your new apartment, with nothing but a suitcase, duffel bag and mattress to your name, yes, happier than you’ve ever been but lonely as well. You check your phone, swiping through your notifications before unlocking it, and opening your Instagram.

You had always been a quiet and reserved person with a bit of a wild side, which you kept hidden very well under wraps. Your feed consisted of hair tips, food, traveling, and a little heat. You followed a couple of influencers, mostly your favorite music artists, and actors. There were lots of concerts happening in Atlanta, which you found wasn't far away from Senoia at all. You'd always wanted to see some of your faves in person, but none of them had ever come out to where you used to live. Not to mention, it was expensive. Speaking of expensive, you realized that you would need to start looking for a job sooner or later if you wanted to keep your studio.

Luckily you had enough to pay rent for at least the next few months, however, groceries were quite pricey these days. You huffed and glanced over to your suitcase to where it remained unpacked in the corner, clothes spilling out of it from where you had been carelessly digging through it. You had only been in Georgia for a few weeks, and hadn't really left to go anywhere. By the looks from what you could see out the window, it was an undeniably nice day, and job opportunities were always fluttering around. You decided that it was finally time to get your shit together and show Senoia what kind of girl you really were.

Swinging off your makeshift bed, you rose to your feet, grimacing slightly and groaning softly as you stretched and walked over towards the bathroom, frowning at the tangled mess that was your hair once you stood in front of the mirror. There were also a few stains on your shirt. Yeah, a shower was definitely needed. You twisted the handle to the middle and allowed the water to heat up, padding over to your messy suitcase.

There were a couple of hangers in the closet but that was about it. Luckily there were also shelves built in which would have to do for now. You were probably going to need a small list of things, hangers being priority number one.

Going through the suitcase, you had your everyday clothes, some old work clothes, and few clubbing clothes. Your duffel bag contained your personable items, as well as a couple of important documents and paperwork for the apartment. You had already moved all your hygienic stuff into the bathroom, and decided to stress about putting away your clothes later, focusing on what you would actually wear out.

You wanted it to be a mix between comfortable yet classy, classy yet also sexy. A simple and lowcut long-sleeve matched with a pair of bootcut jeans that you could easily jazz up with some jewelry and a cute hairstyle. Draping the outfit over your bed, you began to rid yourself of your clothes, fishing a towel as well as a bra and pair of panties out of your duffel bag, and stacking them together on the bathroom counter. You played music off your phone out loud and made a mental note to also buy a speaker, letting out a satisfied groan as you stepped under the hot spray from the shower head.

The water ran down the length of your body from where it soaked in your curly hair, eyes fluttering shut as droplets began rolling down your face. It felt incredible to have days worth of bedrotting be finally washed down the drain. You wiped the water out your eyes and wringed it out your hair, reaching for the shampoo bottle and twisting the cap off, dumping a handful of the liquid into your palm. You smeared it from the top of your head, carrying it down to your ends, beginning to thoroughly scrub your way back up to your scalp, where you worked the soap into the strands.

Once your hair was completely coated and covered in suds, you rinsed the excess from your hands and grabbed your body wash to start cleaning yourself up as you let the shampoo soak into your hair. You drizzled a generous amount onto the sponge amd ran it under the hot water, rubbing it together in your hands to create the foamy bubbles. You began to work your way up one arm, scrubbing the skin as you went over your shoulder and underneath your arm, moving over across your collarbone to the other arm, eventually working down the length of your chest, as well as legs.

You squeezed the remaining soap out from the sponge, hanging it back in its spot as you started to rinse off your body, leaned your head back and wringing the sudsy water out your hair, hands working to wash all the shampoo out the coily strands. Not that you were in a rush, but it did take a little time, an ache beginning to form in your arms by the time you were done. Pumping a generous amount of conditioner into your hand, you worked it into your scalp with the tips of your fingers and rubbed it into the rest of the strands, clipping it back once there was no more left in your hands.

This time you shaved your legs, cause lord knows it’s been a minute since you’ve done that. In the process of shaving them, you noticed that your bikini area could also use some razor work.

It had been a little while since you had needed any reason to shave down there, but now that you were in a new environment with new faces, you never knew what you might stumble across. The men back in your hometown were okay, but you held your hopes up high that Senoia would toss something totally unexpected your way.

Once you were bare and smooth, you washed away the hair caught in your razor and unclipped your curly hair, rinsing off the clip before your hair, humming at how soft the strands felt under the stream of water. You squeezed and wrung out the conditioner, hearing the days of neglect run down the drain. When it was all out, you gave your body one last thorough scrub, properly washing off your skin from head to toe before shutting off the water and grabbing your towel.

You sighed as you patted your face dry, moving down your neck and chest. As you dried your hair, you stood in front of the mirror, lazily singing along to the current song playing and striking a few poses in your nude form. Although you did have a few insecurities, ones that sprouted from your late teen years and hadn't really left in your adult years, you preferred to just focus on the parts of yourself that you really liked.

It was still fairly early as you rechecked your phone, dropping the towel down on the ground and slipping on your panties, clasping your bra on shortly after. You grabbed your toothbrush and squeezed almost a little too much paste onto the bristles, giving it some water before scrubbing your teeth, mindlessly walking around your apartment as you did. The main street below your window was still bustling with cars and filled with people spilling out of shops, and music thumping from the lively restaurants. There was a nearby park that was full of squealing children, as well as other people from the community and neighboring apartment complexes. All of it was much different than what you had grown accustomed to back home, but it was such a nice change of scenery all at the same time, and you couldn't wait to throw yourself out onto Senoia's street.

Back in your little bathroom, you flicked the sink faucet on and spit the gathered foam out, filling your mouth with water and swishing it around for a little, spitting it out as well. You also brushed your tongue before taking in another mouthful of water, washing out the remaining toothpaste from your brush before dropping it back in its cup, shutting the sink off, and wiping your mouth dry. Taking a deep, but quick grounding breath, you moved to put your clothes on, hiking your fairly tight jeans up before slipping on your top. Even though it was plain black, it had a cute set of flared sleeves.

You dug through your bag for your box of jewelry as well as your makeup, setting both down heavily on the counter as you stared at your hair in the mirror, huffing in annoyance as you started to wonder if you needed to style it. Maybe a half-up half-down look? No, a full ponytail would be better. But a high bun would also be cute... or maybe a half-bun. Maybe bald. Bald would be best.

You mentally kick yourself as you flip the lid to your makeup box open to distract yourself from your hairstyle dilemma. You reassured yourself that you'd figure out something by the time you were fully ready, sighing as you prepped your face. The only times you ever really used makeup was when you were going out with intent, and wanted to make sure that your face stood out to any potential victims. It didn't take long to do as you pointedly and skillfully brushed sharp and soft lines over your honey skin, keeping your hand as steady as your body would allow you.

A few swipes of liner and mascara later, glossy lips, and the front of your hair parted to the side, you were clipping on a silver necklace paired with a bracelet, and a dangly pair of earrings. It was a bit simple, so you decided to layer another necklace on top of the other, smiling at yourself in the mirror before flipping the lights off, padding out into the bedroom, and fishing around for your purse, placing it on the bed next to you as you slid on a pair of wedged sandals. Hopefully, the foot pain later would be worth it.

You slipped your phone into your back pocket, and threw your purse onto your shoulder, tossing in a small bottle of perfume just in case. You shut the doors inside and flicked off the main room light, creaking your front door open and securely shutting it behind you, locking it with your keys before tossing them into your purse, striding down the hallway of your complex with intention hot in your steps.

When you pushed the door of your building open, the warm and inviting air of Senoia almost immediately filling your lungs, you felt a strong sense of anticipation surge through you as you walked out onto the sidewalk, the sounds of conversations now real and more animated than ever, the thumping of music now bumped through your feet and right in your chest.

As you casually strolled down the sidewalk, taking in all the different buildings and things to do, a furniture store caught your eye. While you didn't have any money, it never hurt to look around, and maybe get some information from some of the locals.

The furniture store was filled with pieces on the much older side and vintage lamps that only old ladies would be interested in, but you continued to walk around anyway. As you were browsing a wall of intricate paintings and sculptures, a kind-looking woman approached you.

"Welcome to Hollberg's! Our newer, more modern stuff is upstairs if that's more your style" She smiled, and you gave a polite one in return. "I'm just browsing for now. Just moved here about a week ago and I don't have a job yet" You lightly laughed.

The woman gave you an excited expression, clasping her hands together. "How nice! Where are you from originally?"

"Louisiana, Chalmette. I lived there for most of my life so I just needed a fresh start somewhere totally new." You sigh, still kindly smiling at her.

"I get that, and Senoia is perfect for that, Georgia overall. Atlanta is also quite close, and there's lots of job opportunities out there."

You frown, "Unfortunately I don't have a car, and you can't Uber without money" Shaking your head at your obviously very sticky situation.

The woman seemed to think for a moment, walking quickly away to fetch something from behind a desk and coming back over, holding out a few pieces of paper. "We aren't hiring now, but here are some flyers for restaurants in this strip. Not sure how lucky you'll get, but I do wish you luck. There's a cafe right across the way" You took the flyers from her, smiling at her one last. "Thanks girl. Hopefully, next time we talk it's about furniture" She let out a small laugh, watching as you spun on your heels and walked out of the store.

On your way out, you almost immediately spotted the cafe and wasted no time walking over to it, quickly crossing the street while throwing a few quick glances to the left and right as you did. Before you entered, you slipped the restaurant flyers into your purse and swung the door open, the smell of coffee strong and a bit overwhelming. The cafe was quite large inside, and there was a small line at the registers at near front, nothing you weren't willing to stand in.

Once you reached the front, you were greeted by a young woman, smiling brightly at you. "Hi! Welcome to Senoia's Coffee and Cafe, what can I get started for you?"

"Sorry, I'm not looking to buy anything, I'm actually looking for work. I just moved here about a week ago" She made a small look of surprise, furrowing her brows as she mouthed 'one moment' and disappeared behind a wall, returning mere seconds later with a sheepish look replacing her previous one. "We, unfortunately, aren't hiring right now. I think my boss is in a bad mood, but I heard the restaurant down the street is hiring! Uh, just can't think of the name"

You fish out the flyers, "Any of these?" Holding them out to her. She tilts her head, humming quietly before tapping her finger against one. "This place! They need waitresses, especially around this time. You'd be a great fit there too" She smiled, and you smiled back, giving her a "Thanks" before walking back out of the shop, and down the sidewalk, eyeing a few of the other buildings before stopping in front of dark gray one, reading the sign before pulling the door open.

The inside of the restaurant was absolutely stunning, with clean floors, and light walls mixed with brick that complemented the expensive chandlers hanging from the ceiling, highlighted against the polished wooden furniture. There was casual jazz playing in back, loud enough to hear but loud enough to still be able to talk normally.

The restaurant was fairly small, a highly stocked bar on one side and the dining room on the other, bathrooms at the back. You weren't quite sure where to stand, awkwardly off to the side as you scanned the room for someone, feeling relieved when a woman spotted you and called that she would be right there. You watched as she cleaned a finished table, quickly walking the dirty dishes into the kitchen before coming back out, huffing when she reappeared.

"It's a lot of work, huh?" You asked kindly, and she sighed.

"Hell yes. I jus' wish I had one more set of hands" She laughed airily, tapping at something on her register. "Table fer one?"

You shook your head, "No, I'm actually here to work. Just moved here a week ago" Smiling softly at her.

She gave you a look of surprise, "Really? Where ya comin' from?"

"Chalmette in Louisiana. I just needed a different change of scenery, somewhere new where I can figure my shit out" She nodded her head at your words. "I hear that. Good fer ya' girl! Like I said, I need one more set of hands. Got any experience?"

"I worked in a sports bar for a good while back home, there wasn't really much to work with" You sighed. "I've never served tables but I was a host for a little bit"

She seemed pretty satisfied, nodding as you spoke with a smile tugging her lips. "Well, I'd say yer gonna make a pretty good damn waitress. How soon can ya' start?"

"I'd start today if you let me" You laugh lightly, and she makes a face. "I mean if you can bring me the papers I need within the hour I can get you a shift tonight"

You blinked at her, raising a brow. "Seriously?"

"I'll give ya' the uniform straight after, m'serious" She smiled, holding out her hand.

You took hers in yours with little hesitation, shaking it firmly. “I’ll be right back” Was all you said before walking out the restaurant, quickly and eagerly striding back over to your apartment building. It was maybe a five minute walk, which was not bad at all. As you entered, walking through the lobby and up the stairs, you dug in your purse for the keys to your studio, swinging them around your finger as you walked down the hallway on your floor.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside and shut it, placing your purse on the counter and taking out the flyers, rushing over to your suit case and flipping it open, rummaging through. You grumbled as you began pulling stuff out, zipping open pockets and shaking the bag, about to freak out when the blue folder fell out. “Aha!”

You cracked it open, smiling when you confirmed the important papers such as your W2 as well as birth certificate. You rose to your feet and it in your purse, finish out your wallet to make sure you had your I.D as well as social security, tossing it back into the bag and sliding it back over your shoulder, setting out your house once again to go get your new job.

You felt a small amount of anxiety boiling in your stomach as the sun started to set, the main street of Senoia, only get louder and louder, even through your shut window. Your eyes flickered down to your pressed uniform, sharply exhaling as you checked the time on your phone and unlocked it, rereading the schedule over and over again. It was about five-thirty, and you needed to be there at six.

Hooking your phone up to get some more charge as you stripped out your regular clothed and into your work ones, humming pleasantly as you looked the mirror. The shirt was tight but loose fit, and the pants covered your ankles. It was an all black uniform, ‘Nic & Norman’s’ in the left corner embroidered in white.

To keep your hair out the way, but still stylish, you tied it back into two high and curly space buns. You decided to go for a simple cat eye liner look, sticking on a pair of lashes instead of mascara this time. A few quick swipes of a rose pink gloss, and a couple spritz’s of your most expensive perfume, you were done and ready to go.

As you slipped a pair of black tennis shoes on, you still had a lingering feeling of nerves in your tummy. This wasn’t your first job obviously, but this was you first waitress job. The woman you had spoken too, who’s name you learned was Tyler, reassured you that you were a perfect fit.

Standing in the mirror one last time, you gave yourself a good look over to make sure you looked professional and presentable, hopefully also tippable.

You tossed your purse over your shoulder, and draped a sweater over yourself, flipping off all the lights and shutting the front door behind you, locking it and stuffing your keys inside.

Just as you expected, the air was brisk and much cooler than it had been when the sun was still high in the sky, night falling over the streets and Senoia’s street lighting itself up, restaurants now more alive than ever. As you walked with a small crowd, you observed how almost everyone was now dressed in more proper attire, nicely ironed suits paired to modestly short dresses.

The outside seating of Nic & Norman’s was already packed full when you arrived, swinging the door open to find the inside seats equally as stuffed. You felt your nerves soaring this time, and tried not to awkwardly duck your head down as you walked into the kitchen, feeling like a foreigner.

“Y/n! Thank fuck!” Tyler gasped from behind you, making you jump slightly. “I’ve got salads and burgers wedged so far up m’fuckin’ ass” She grumbled, grabbing you by thw wrist and pulling you quickly through the clamoring kitchen into a back office.

She dropped down onto a seat, sighing heavily. “Is it like this every night?” You asked, a little more scared then you should be.

“Sometimes. If m’not mistaken, one of the owners should be coming tomorrow. Boy do I sure hope it’s Norman” Tyler sighed, dreamily at the end. She stared off into space with a small smile, and you looked around the room, looking at the overflowing cubbies. “Shit sucks. Ya’ can stick yer stuff with mine” She spoke, snapped out her trance and pointing at a pile a good distance away from the rest. “It’s okay. People know not ta’ fuck with m’shit” Tyler added when she saw the wary look on your face.

“So, who exactly is ‘Nic and Norman’?” You question, and Tyler’s mouth drops.

“You don’t know who Greg Nicotero and Norman Reedus are?” You shook your head, brows furrowed in pure confusion. Maybe you did know them, you just never were very big on putting faces to names.

Tyler whipped out her phone, but frowned. “Shit girl, forgot we had a job ta’ be doin’. Don’ even stress. Ya’ look real good. Shirt fits ya’ good too. Yer gon be loaded up with tips, ‘nd m’sure ya’ can handle tha’ creeps” She rose to her feet, checking her own makeup in the camera lense of her phone before pocketing it. “And don’ try ta’ be fuckin’ superman and carry thirty plates at a time. Pro-tip, learn some Tetris” Tyler swiped a new layer of gloss on her lips, and tossed it into her pocket, pulling you back through the busy kitchen.

“Luckily they print tha’ table number tha’ food is fer on tha’ ticket, so tha’ chef’s started ta’ put tickets with plates, so when ya come here, just find yer table” She explained quickly yet simply, each word she spoke going in one ear and echoing in the other, turning themselves on loop.

Tyler poked her head out the kitchen, looking around before she beckoned someone over. A young man came jogging over, and she pulled him inside by his shirt. Damn if she didn’t play around.

“This is Javi, one of our hosts tonigh’.” Tyler gestured to his with her hands, and he waved politely. “Javi is gon’ show ya’ yer table section. From this point on, m’gon be nothin’ but a blur ta’ ya” She placed a hand on your shoulder, smiling at you before turning and picking up the plates from earlier, easily balancing them on her arms and kicking open the kitchen door, out onto the floor.

A awkward moment of silence passed between you and the young man, not really quiet, but there were no words spoken as he swiped through something on an iPad, brows slightly furrowed. “You’re um, you’re y/n right?” He mumbled, and you nodded.

Javi motioned for you to follow him with his head, and he led you out into the loud dining area, bringing you over towards the bar. “See those four tables there?” He pointed, and you had to follow his finger, nodding when you spotted the four booths he was pointing to. “All yours. They can hold up to like ten people, so good luck.” You grimaced at that, feeling your stomach do flips.

“Here. Can’t be a waitress without your notepad. Or a pen” Javi joked, and you smiled kindly at him, thanking him. As you did, a new wave of people entered, prompting Javi to go over and get them situated. You watched as he seated the new guests, and pulled a group waiting from the lobby, grabbing their menus and leading them over to your section.

He came back over, mouthing ‘all yours’ before disappearing into the kitchen.

You took a few, shaky and deep breaths, before putting on your friendliest face and approaching the table.

Luckily, it was just a simple family, mom and dad with their two kids who seemed to be well over the age of ten. You greeted them with a kind smile, “Welcome to Nic & Norman’s, my name is Y/n and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you started on any drinks?” You clicked your pen, pressing it into the pad of paper.

The mother smiled back at you, “You guys sure are busy! I bet it’s always exciting when they come to town, huh?” She glanced back at her menu, acting as if she hadn’t left you totally clueless.

“Yeah. It’s only my first day here so I’m a little nervous” You confess, brushing off her earlier statement. “Gosh! Well, guess we’re testing you now!” She laughed, and you laughed as well, only a tad unnerved. “I think I’ll just do a simple cocktail” You nodded, writing down at the top of the pad. Her son ordered a strawberry lemonade, her daughter a soda, and her dad a beer.

“I’ll have those right out for you guys” You clicked your pen once again, and quickly walked away, retreating back into the kitchen.

You pushed the doors open, but frowned at the loud clamoring and multiple orders being shuffled out. No way in hell would your drinks be done in a reasonable time. You exited out the kitchen, glancing around when you had a lightbulb moment.

“Psst, hey muscle man” You called to the bartender, leaning against the counter. “Think you could make these real fast?” You held out the drink ticket, wiggling it as you flirtatiously smiled and batted your lashes.

He stammered for a second, “muscle man?” glancing down at himself and feeling a heat rise to his cheeks. What could you say? You knew a strong man when you saw one.

You kept your hand outstretched, motioning for him to take it.

“Do I even know you?” He raised a brow, and you shook your head. “Nope. But you should do it anyways” You smile, and he frowns, taking the paper from your hand. You spot Javi leaving your section, throwing you a glance and a thumbs up, and you tap the bartop. “I’m counting on you, Hercules”

You approach your second table, and feel a hint of annoyance surge through you as you discover it’s a group of men. Very loud ones at that. You put on your best fakest smile, clicking your pen against your leg as you spoke. “Welcome to Nic & Norman’s, my name is Y/n and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get a round of drinks going for you gentlemen?”

One of the men whistled, “Well ain’t you just somethin’ pretty to look at” letting out a very country laugh.

A few of the other men let out laughs, and you simply smiled, more of ‘I wish I was off the clock so I could rock you’ smile, but still a smile. “Yeah. I’m also here to get you guys something to drink” You joked, knowing men tipped more when you gave into their antics.

"Let the woman do her job, Bill" Another man said to him, nudging him with his arm and he swatted them away. You tapped your pen against the paper, trying not to hurt one of them. Thankfully they made things easy and agreed to order a round of beer. You murmured that you'd be back, quickly walking out of the section to the bar.

When you walked over, you could see the family's drinks sitting on top of the counter and swapped out the drink tickets when you stopped before them. It was a little awkward trying to carry four drinks at once, struggling as you kept picking up and putting the cups downs.

“See? Wha' did I say?” Tyler spoke as she suddenly appeared next to you, placing a hand on her hip. “Tryin’ be some kind of fuckin’ avenger when yer jus’ makin’ yerself look goofy” She scoffed and held out her dish tray, watching as you placed the drinks down on it.

You took it from her with a sheepish look. "Thanks, Just a bit on edge" You told her, and she placed both her hands on your shoulders, smiling softly at you. "Don' be. Yer a natural. Jus' keep doin' wha' yer doin'" She gave you a salute and was gone as quickly as she had come.

Sighing sharply, you walk the tray of drinks over to the family with a smile and hand them, listening to the mother awe over the colors of her cocktail. "How pretty! I think we're all ready to order, right?" She glanced at her family for their confirmation, and you pulled your notepad out, tucking your tray under your arm. The mother ordered a margarita flatbread, her husband ordering a whiskey salmon, and her kids both ordering a classic hamburger. "I'll have those out for you guys shortly" You smiled once you had their order scribbled down, collecting their menus and leaving them be.

You walked past the men's table, briefly letting them know you were coming back with their beers, and dropped the menus off to the front where Javi was standing, getting the next group of people seated. "Y/n, I'm gonna stick these folks in your section. Hand me those" He said as he turned to you, taking the menus from your hand and leading them to your third table. You weren't doing too bad if you did say so yourself.

Thanks to the help of the tray, loading up the round of beers for the men wasn't much of a hassle at all. When they saw you approaching with the mugs filled to the bim, they whooped and hollered, prompting you to shush them as they began to collect eyes nearby. Instead of handing out the drinks like you did with the last table, you simply let them take their respective mug off the tray, knocking their glasses together. "I'm guessing you fellas are ready to order huh?" You give them your best show, even jutting your hip out a little. Don't get mad at a girl for using her resources.

"You bet'cha sweet ass we are, and this big boy wants a steak" The one they call Bill piped up once again, drumming on his belly as he spoke. A few laughs erupted from the table, and you felt your eye twitching. "How would you like that cooked?" You mumbled, smile just barely clinging to your face. "Medium-rare. I like mines to be pink on the inside" He laughed gravelly, and you tried to act like he wasn't comparing a steak to someone's vagina.

The same man nudged Bill, this time a little harder and more serious than last time. "Sorry 'bout him. I'll do the medallions" You nodded at him as you wrote down his order, murmuring how it was alright. The other men just started to throw their orders out there, placing their menus down in the middle once you had their request scribbled down. You gathered all the menus and dropped them off to the front, exhaling as you made your way to the kitchen in order to get your tables food started.

As you pushed the door open, you groaned when you saw how chaotically busy it was getting, loud chattering and banging filling the space. Orders were lined up and quickly being pushed out, some of the other waiters brushing past with their own trays of food in hand. Glancing around for someone, you awkwardly handed off the papers to the nearest chef. Getting ready to exit out the kitchen, feeling as though you were in the way the sound of applause rang out from the front, and all movement around seem to freeze for split second. You all looked around at each other, mirroring faces of confusion before Tyler came barreling through the doors.

"Norman fucking Reedus just fucking walked in and I swear on everythin' I love I'm gon’ go absloutely mad" She rambled, bouncing with energy.

“I thought he wasn’t supposed to come til tomorrow?” The head chef spoke, rising a brow from where he was manning a large grill.

Tyler rolled her eyes, charging towards rhe back office. “Who cares? He’s here now ‘nd I need ta’ make sure I look good!” She got about halfway, before turning back around grabbing you by the wrist, resuming her mission to the office.

Inside, she shuffled over to hee stuff, digging through a backpack and pulling out a makeup bag, plopping down in a seat and pulling up the lens of her phone. “So what’s the big deal?”

“Wha’s tha’ big deal?” Her eyes almost bulged out of her head, staring at you in shock and a bit of horror. “Oh, nothin’, jus’ tha’ he’s tha’ sexiest guy in Hollywood”

You scoffed at her, “Sexy ain’t nothing if he’s shit in the sheets” shaking your head.

Tyler groaned, curling her lashes carefully. “Ya’ don’ even know wha’ yer talkin’ ‘bout. He’s a munch, certifiable”

“Psh. I’ll believe that when I see it.” You say, turning to walk out the office and get a look at this guy for yourself.

“Wait!” Tyler held out her hand, rising to her feet. “Yer not leavin’ without a little touchup. One of us is gettin’ lucky tonight and it’s gon’ be me. If ya’ fuck him, I want all them details” She spoke as she maneuvered you to sit in the chair, tilting your your head up and insecpting your face.

“If I do fuck him it’ll just be so I can get ahold of his wallet” You murmur, closing your eyes as she dusted the lids of them with glitter, brushing some down the bridge of your nose. “Well ya’ better share some with me” She pinched your nose, and you swatted playfully at her, smirking. “I’ll think about it”

She swipes a glossy layer of gloss over your lips, before her own, tossing the contents of her makeup back into the bag and the bag back into her backpack. The kitchen has returned to loud clamoring and pots and pans being banged together, servers dashing in and out with their orders.

Nearby by, the food for your first table was waiting patiently for you, and you gasped softly. “Oh wow this stuff actually looks really good!”

Tyler held out the dish tray for you, again, holding it with both hands and verbally helping you to cram all four dishes on there, the flatbread being a long and awkward dish. “The salmon is super good. I probably done’ forced the kitchen ta’ make it fer m’bout a hundred times now” She laughed as she spoke, gingerly handing off the the tray to you. “Don’ drop nothin’”

“Now why would you even say that?” You roll your eyes at her, and lightly kick her shin, turning on your heel quickly to walk out the kitchen when she frowned your actions.

You pushed the door open with your hip and walked back out into the busy dining area, a smile on your face as you approached the family with their food, placing the tray down on the table so you could hand out their plates easily. The mother helped by taking her flatbread off, humming as she made sure it was exactly what she had wanted. “Could I get anything else for you folks tonight?” You politely asked, sliding the tray off the table and back under your arm. “Nope! Thank you, you’ve been so kind and helpful” The woman smiled back at you, and you slightly bowed your head before leaving them to their meal.

“I should be back with you guys food as well. Another round while we wait?” You stopped by the mens table, observing their almost empty mugs and giving a thumbs up at their rowdy agreement. “And my apologies for the wait. At least you had plenty of menu looking time right?” You joked lightly as you finally approached your third table for the night, a small group of friends who seemed like easy people to deal with.

“Ahaha, not much. We were pretty hung up on drinks. I think we’re all gonna try the Bloody Nicotero” One of the women spoke, glancing around the table for her friends confirmations. They all nodded in agreement, and another girl requested for a cup of water. “Would you like table water? For all of you!” They nodded, and you scribbled down the few drinks. “I’ll be right back with those” You smile at them, and as soon as you walk out the section it totally drops.

“Hey, muscle man!” You called out to him, leaning over the bartop. He eyed you from the side, finishing the drink he was currently pouring before moving over to you, a brow raised. “I have a name y’know” He pointed to the tag, but you ignored him, raising your own finger and pointing to the group’s order. “What the hell is a bloody Nekot… Nickote- Tar?-“

“Nicotero. And it really packs a punch” A man spoke suddenly from behind you, making you instinctively jump with your hands raised. “My God! Didn’t your momma teach you not to walk up behind people?” You huffed and put a hand over your thumping heart, turning back to the bartender to promptly ignore the asshole behind you.

“So like I was saying- What? Why’re you looking like that?” You glance at his stun face, and turn back to the man behind you, a curious smile tugging his lips. “Are you Nicotero?” You quirk a brow, and the bartender sputters.

The man lets out a light chuckle, shaking his head which made his wavy curls bounce. His hair was fair dark and stopped at his shoulders, his bangs attractively pushed back by a pair of sunglasses. He was pretty tall, and very well built, eyes lingering on his musclar arms longer than they should’ve. Your eyes flickered down to the skull inked on his hand, and then back up to his face.

“Nope. Nicotero is the other guy. I’m just Norman” His voice was smooth and rich, but not quite deep. It had a light and airy feel to it, very gentle on the ears.

Norman. Norman… “Reedus?” He nodded. Oh, well, shit. “Don’ know if you were aware of this pretty girl but I own this place” He spoke casually and easily.

“I wasn’t actually. I’ve only lived here for a week” You told him, watching as the bartender busied himself with your group’s drinks, as well as the men’s beers. “And this is my first day working here, and right now you, Norman, are being a distraction”

He raised a bow, smile only growing across his lips as he spoke. “That’s just what I do best darling”

You placed the tray down on the bartop and assist the man in fitting both the bloodies and waters onto the platter, slowly and very carefully picking it up.

Norman stepped out your way, and as you shuffled past him you stopped to whisper in his ear. “I feel like there’s a lot else you do best” You murmured, flirtatiously winking and walking into your section, greeting the friend group with a smile.

“Got your drinks here folks, heard these things knock your socks off so good luck” You joke as you hand out straws, clicking your pen and flipping through your notepad. “Is everyone ready to order?” You press the tip of the pen into the paper, writing down the first order shouted out and going down the line. There was a simple mix of burgers and salads, a few people had special requests on how they wanted their food to be which you wrote underneath, small but big at the same time.

You collected their menus, letting them know you'd have their food out shortly and whisking away, dropping the menus off at the front and walking quickly to the kitchen, glancing at Javi who seemed to be conversing with Norman. You pushed the door open and huffed a sigh of relief when the men's food was sitting there waiting. Placing the tray down, you loaded the plates on the best you could, having to carry two of them out with your other hand, balancing one on your forearm.

Another waitress saw you as she entered the kitchen, and she politely held the door open for you, nodding as you thanked her on your way out.

"Not gonna drop that are you?" Javi questioned when you walked back past, causing Norman to turn and glance at you.

You continue walking away, a smirk pulling your lips. "Not if you stop talking" The feeling of eyes lingering on your back makes a chill run up your spine, and part of you swears that you can feel butterflies in your stomach.

The men see you approaching their table, and at first, they start cheering but quiet down when they realize you were balancing heavy plates, resuming their celebration once the food is safely placed on the table. You call out the names of dishes to find their rightful owner, watching the men grab their plates and eagerly start eating, satisfied groans sounding from the table. With that, you left them to eat and returned back to the family, who was chatting amongst themselves and seemed finished with their food, most of it half eaten.

"Would you guys like some to-go boxes?" You smile, and the mother nods, "Yes please, and you can bring the tab as well," mirroring the kind smile you gave her.

You informed her you'd be right back with that, quickly walking out of the section and to the kitchen, glancing around. "Where's Tyler?" You asked a nearby chef, and he furrowed his brows, tilting his head in confusion. You repeated your question, a little louder this time, and he made an 'O' face, pointing to the office. You thanked him, and made your way back there, knocking before creaking the door open.

"What are you doing?" You stare at her, sitting in the chair with a tall cup and her phone in her hand. "Wha'? I needed my coffee" She shrugged, a smile playing on her lips. "Talk to my beloved husband yet?" You rolled your eyes at that, stepping inside the office, but catching yourself. "Wait! Uh, my first table is ready to pay"

"Oh!" Tyler kicked herself off the chair, stretching and taking another sip of her caffeine. "C'mere, lemme show ya'" She said as she ushered you out. She led you through the kitchen, bringing you to a section behind the door you hadn't even noticed was there.

There was a computer with a list of waiters and waitresses on them, table numbers as well as totals on it. You spotted your name, and read the first tables total, which actually wasn't a bad price at all. "Jus' click tha', and then the huge print button" Tyler pointed, tapping the screen as she explained. The machine behind the computer whizzed to life, printing out a receipt. "They want boxes?" She questioned and you nodded, watching as she reached her hand down and pulled four to-go boxes out. You took them from her silently, blinking as if she had just performed a magic trick.

Tyler tore the receipt out of the machine, clicking her pen and scribbling something down. As she did, the machine began to print once again, and Tyler pulled out a slim booklet from underneath. "It prints twice 'cause tha' second receipt is tha' one tha' customer signs" She said as she took the paper out the machine, sticking it into the booklet, and handing it to you.

You took it from her with a smile. "Thanks. I did talk to Norman, and he's alright. Nothing too special" She gawked at your words, and started to playfully smack you with her hands. "Ugh! Ya' don' know wha' yer yappin' 'bout! Tha' man will change yer life" She harped, voice fading as you walked out the kitchen, lips stuck in a smile as you brought over your first tab of the night.

The rest of your shift went by with a breeze, the number of people coming in was now lessening and coming in pairs of two and four. It wasn't as busy anymore, and the air around seemed to be less tense.

You only had about one more hour left before you were done, and had about two tables still waiting for their food. You were ecstatic that your first night had gone by without any mishaps or complaints, having received generous tips from all your tables throughout.

On your way back to the kitchen to check on your last few orders, you spotted Norman sitting alone at the bar with a small drink in hand as he seemed to do something on his phone. You aren't sure what came over you, but you found yourself quietly approaching from behind.

"Shouldn't you be riding away in a limo back to your mansion?" He jumped slightly at the sudden sound of your voice, turning towards you with a small smile. "Maybe, but I didn't wanna leave without getting to know you better" You raised a brow at that. "Seriously? I'm just a waitress. Shouldn't you be like screwing around with models?"

Norman laughed at that, shaking his head a little. "Who's to say you aren't a model?"

"Well, aren't you just a real charmer" You giggled, feeling a heat rising to your cheeks. "What? You wanna take me home or something?" You said jokingly, standing more off to his side now.

You observed the look on his face, soft, interested, yet so dark. His piercing blue eyes shamelessly raked over your figure, tongue darting out over his lips. "Yeah. I really do" He whispered, eyes landing on yours. "Can I?"

"Not very celeb-like taking home staff don't you think?" You hummed, taking his drink and downing the rest, a mix between whiskey and coke. "It would be quite unprofessional for you to take me to your house when I get off in thirty minutes, very unprofessional indeed" You sensually mumbled, tossing him a final cheeky glance before disappearing into the kitchen, almost sprinting to the back office to go find Tyler, giddy smile tugging your lips.

Staring at his now empty glass, head resting in his hand, Norman couldn't help the way his stomach flipped, excitement and anticipation building up as your words rang out in his head.

Thirty minutes had felt like a whole other hour, and you heaved a sigh of relief when you finally clocked out, purse slung over your shoulder and your sweater draped over yourself in a puny attempt to shield yourself from the cold.

Tyler had almost flipped the table over when you told her, jumping off the walls and excitedly shaking you, squealing as she rambled about all the things she thought were gonna happen, yelling that you needed to tell her every detail afterward. She even downright begged for you to get some pictures.

She had already left in her car to go home, slamming the digits of her number into your phone and pulling you into a tight hug, telling you to be safe and text her as soon as you got to your next destination, threatening to send out a search squad.

You stood outside, mindlessly rolling a rock under your foot and swiping through Insta, starting to wonder if a literal A-list celeb had just totally played in your face. Minutes went by and you started to feel a little offended, rightfully so, deciding to start making your way back home instead of waiting around like an idiot. As you were walking, you texted Tyler that you were leaving, that he had just left instead. Cars passed by and obviously none seemed to belong to someone who would own a restaurant. You scoffed, annoyed but not surprised.

As you rounded the corner to the street of your apartment building, you just so happened to crash into somebody smoking a cigarette, of coursing falling onto your ass like a dumbfuck.

"Damn, tryna run away from me gorgeous?" Norman's light voice sounded, and you blinked your eyes into focus. "Been looking for you" You grumbled as he easily lifted you off the ground, taking a drag from the cigarette. "Sorry. I get bored sitting still for too long" He shrugged, smiling cheekily at you. "Ready to go?"

"Go where? My house is right there" You shook your head, gesturing towards the building.

Norman waved his hand, dismissing you. "Nah. Gonna take you for a little ride. C'mon," He took a final pull, stubbing his cig out on the wall and motioning for you to follow him.

He led you back down the sidewalk and a little distance from the restaurant, making easy and light conversation. It felt like you had known him forever with the way he casually joked around with you, your heart fluttering a little each time he laughed.

He walked you over to a sleek and shiny motorcycle, standing on the other side of it with his hand held out, offering you some help with climbing onto the back of his bike. "A romantic bike ride? And here I thought you had ghosted me" You laughed when he himself straddled the bike, the engine roaring to life.

"Ghosted? Someone like you? Never doll" Norman chuckled over the rumble of his bike, kicking the stand out and rolling out the parking lot, glancing both ways for any passing cars.

You wrapped your arms around his middle when he started to pick up speed, turning off Senoia's main road and revving the engine, motorcycle quickly shooting forward. "Not so fast!" You gasp, tightening your hold. He laughed, patting one of your hands with his. You put your head on his shoulder to get a better view of the road, catching a strong whiff of his very expensive-smelling cologne, an exotic herbal smell that attracted you to him more, a heat shooting down to your core.

Norman caught a glimpse of your lust-filling eyes in his side mirror, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he knew he was in for a treat tonight, almost instinctively revving his engine again to speed up, but obeyed your request to not go too fast. He drove with the flow of traffic, listening to you awe over the lights and buildings. "Ever been to Atlanta?"

"Atlanta? Wh-why are we going there?" You stammered, taken aback since well, that was bit of a distance.

"Oh no doll, we aren't going. Yer just back there 'oh'ing and 'awe'ing I figured not" Norman chuckled, laughing when you smacked his shoulder. "Hold on, we're almost there" This time he revved his engine again, weaving between cars.

It made you feel like a teenager again, getting whisked away at night to some random guys house for an hour or two of fun, just to be dropped off somewhere unknown but close to home. It brought you back to your early twenties also, the years having been filled with nothing but hungover days and drunken nights, latching onto some poor guy who was willing to buy you every shot you down, likely in hopes of getting laid.

Sitting on the back of Norman’s bike however, something your gut told you this would be a little more than just a plain hook-up. Tyler’s words rang out in your head, and you couldn’t help but start to wonder if this really would change your life.

The traffic on the road dispersed as he drove further out, eventually turning down a quiet and dirt road.

“Whoa, I ain’t about to get murdered am I?” You joked, but you were really asking.

Norman chuckled, squeezing your hand and even looping his fingers through. “Nah. I’d take you out somewhere pretty”

“You wanna take me out or take me to bed?” You wiggled your fingers in his hold as a mock wiggle of the brows.

“Maybe I wanna do both”

Jesus, this man was something else.

The dirt road continued out for a couple of miles out, gravel and rocks crunching under the spinning tires of his bike. The road seemed to be hidden by a tall grassy field and towering trees, the only sound interrupting the peace being the rumble of Norman’s engine.

He made another turn, the tall field of grass seeming endlessly as he drove until you could barely make out what looked like houses at the top of a field. Shit, maybe he really was gonna murder you?

Norman revved the engine and the motorcycle picked up speeds, whipping the cool country air into your face and probably messing up your tied hair. The large houses came closer into view, huge properties with cars in driveways and lights on. The houses were scattered, your next-door neighbor being about five normal houses away.

Norman rolled down the street at a slower speed as to not disturb his neighbors, approaching a dark and gated house. The gates opened after the man pressed a few buttons on his phone, the outside lights of the home fading on and making it look more welcoming.

The gates closed behind the two of you when he rumbled onto the large driveway, lazily parking his bike right where he was.

This time you didn’t need any help, swinging yourself off the motorcycle and immediately tossing your arms up to stretch as you stared at the literal mansion you were about to walk into.

“C’mon. Did you get a chance to eat?” Norman placed a hand on your hip and led you to the front door, some fancy thumbprint technology letting him in.

“Not yet,” You smile softly as you enter the home, standing in the boxed-off foyer. “I got whisked away before I could escape back home”

“Well, I surely didn’t bring you here to starve you. Take your shoes off, I’ll mix something up” Norman said as he took his own shoes off, socked feet quiet against his wooden floors.

You toed off your own shoes next to his and followed, staring in awe at the midsized entrance. Two staircases descended on either side, leading to an equally large-looking upstairs with a small balcony.

Straight ahead, there was an opening that led out to the spacious main area, tall industrial windows covered the walls in the living room, paired with ceiling-to-floor navy blue curtains tied back so as to probably let in the earlier sunlight. The kitchen was big as well, with dark and wooden cabinets matched to grey ash-colored granite counters with specs of black obsidian throughout.

You had never seen such a gorgeous home, marveling at how clean it was. It had a luxurious feel while still being homely at the same time, a few paintings and sculptures hung up on the walls, sitting on table tops.

“This place is beautiful,” You said after taking a minute to fully appreciate the decor, resting your hip against the counter. “Do you live here?” You placed your purse down.

Norman laughed from somewhere, rounding a corner with an expensive-looking bottle of whiskey. “For the moment. I’m usually out in New York, but I have to be here for some work” You watched as he poured two glasses, handing you one a small smile.

You clinked the glasses together and both threw them back, the liquid burning your throat as well as your chest. “What do you do for work?” You said as you cleared your throat.

“Well right now we’re shooting,” Norman said casually, turning and opening the large fridge.

“A movie?” You question, pulling at the collar of your shirt.

The man chuckled slightly, “Do you have any ideaa who I am?” turning to you with a playful smile tugging his lips.

You scoffed, cheeks heating up a little bit because, well, “No, not really. My co-worker seemed to be a fan though”

“Oh really now? What’d she tell you?” Norman quipped, chopping and tossing the ingredients for what you could see was a really stuffed chicken salad.

“That you were the sexiest guy in Hollywood” He laughed at that, and you couldn’t help but stare at his broad shoulders from behind, watching his back muscles as he fixed the food.

“Well?” He said after a minute, and you realized you had zoned out. “What?”

Norman glanced at you, a dark look in his blue eyes. “Do you agree with her?”

You stared at him for a moment, before slowly approaching, stopping only a few centimeters short from him.

“Make me agree with her” You whispered, batting your lashes as you ran your finger up his arm.

Norman halted his movements, staring at you before his eyes flickered down to your lips, not hesitating to lean down and kiss them.

“Ya’ ain’t got no clue what you’re askin’ for, doll” He rasped, disregarding the half-made salad as he gripped your waist, lifting you off your feet and onto the island top, slotting himself between your legs as he moved to capture your lips in another kiss, this one way more eager and heated.

You moaned softly into his mouth as his hands caressed and fondled your waist, sliding down to your hips and pulling you closer against him, pressed his bulge into your clothed cunt.

He kissed you calculated yet sloppily, tongue swirling around in your mouth as his fingers slipped under your uniform. You hooked an arm around the back of his neck and bit down on his bottom lip, hard enough to where he groaned painfully. “Come on, impress me already”

“Whadd’ya want from me?” Norman started to kiss and lick your neck, but you yanked his head back by his hair, for starters yanking the pokey sunglasses off. “I wanna see what you’ve got, maybe like,” You trailed a hand down his chest, pushing him hard so he stumbled into the counter behind him. “What you’ve got in your pants?”

You kicked yourself off the island, pulling the hair ties out your hair and fluffing it out, dropping down to crawl over to Norman, evil smile taking over your lips as you scratched your nails down his denim jeans, mouthing and placing open mouth kisses over his straining cock.

Norman groaned above you, “Think ya can handle it?” a hand coming down and tangling into your hair.

“Can you handle it?” You retort, taking the zipper of his jeans between your teeth and unzipping them, popping the button open.

You tugged his boxers down, very unexpectedly getting smacked in the face by his cock, a good thick eight inches. His tip was red and leaky, the veins running along his shaft pulsating. You had been with your fair share of big guys, but Norman was quite impressive, your fingers stretching when you wrapped them around him.

You gave him a few experimental strokes, playfully looking up at him through your lashes as you run your tongue from his balls, all the way up to the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it and taking it into your mouth, sucking the salty pre-cum off.

Norman’s hips jerked slightly, a mumble of curses falling from his lips as he tightened his grip on your hair. “M’not gonna be very nice to ya’ if you keep it up” He grunted, his face a little flushed.

“Didn’t want you to be nice in the place” You mused as you licked down the sides of his throbbing dick, smearing spit from your tongue as you went along. “Such a big cock but do you even know how to use it?”

Norman scoffed slightly, “Ya’ really don’t know who I am” rolling his hips when you took only his tip past your lips.

“Gonna show me?” You wiggled your butt a little, a surge of excitement coursing through you when rough hands gathered all your hair in one. “Yup, gon’ make you remember it too. Open that little bratty ass mouth wide” He tugged your head back, and you moaned, stretching open your lips as well curling your tongue inside your mouth.

Norman slowly slid himself inside, grunting at the warm wetness engulfing him as he leisurely rocked his hips, thrusting half his cock past your lips. There was an uncomfortable stretch the more he pushed in, a slight burning sensation as he worked himself in.

“I know this pretty throat can take a lot more, c’mon girl” Norman rasped, tilting your head further back and holding himself at his base, pushing in until his tip hit the back of your throat.

You relaxed your gag muscles, staring up at him innocently as you started to slide the head of his cock down, Norman letting out a thick hum as his grip in your hair tightened and his eyes fluttered, his hips jerking forward. He snapped the rest of his length suddenly down into your throat, a harsh grunt coming from him when your moan vibrated through him.

He pulled his hips back and sent them forward again, going smoothly back down in one thrust, repeating this action a few times. Norman watched how all his cock disappeared past your plush lips, nose nuzzled in his well-trimmed pubes before he pulls his hips back, leaving only the tip in before fully sliding right back down.

You squeezed your thighs together each time he plunged his cock into your mouth, eyes rolling shut as he started to increase his pace, only pulling himself out halfway now.

“Takin’ me so well gorgeous,” Norman said in a low, husky drawl. “S’like ya’ were made for this”

He was practically humping your face at this point, his own a bright shade of red as pants, and small gasps came from him, flat-out fucking your mouth. Each little noise that came from him made your cunt throb.

Speaking of throbbing, you could feel the way Norman’s cock was pulsating in your throat, deep and shaky grunts starting to come from him. His hips sped up, the sound of his balls slapping against your chin slightly echoing in the spaciousness, the soft gagging of his cock abusing your throat only heard between the two of you, followed soon by Norman’s heavy whimpers, grip on your hair impossibly tight.

His hips stuttered, cock twitching and spasming as he spilled deep inside your throat, trying your best to swallow but you sputtered around him, cum dribbling from the sides of your mouth.

Norman pulled himself out from your mouth, groaning softly at the cool air hitting his sloppy dick as it rested still painfully hard against your equally messy lips, gasping as you stared up at him.

“Impressed yet?” He raised a brow, out of breath himself.

You ran your tongue over your top lip, tasting his bitter release with a smile. “I thought you weren’t gonna be nice? I think you’re being quite boring if you ask me” You teasingly spoke.

Norman smirked, “Who said I was done? By the time m’done with ya’, your body will remember the shape of my cock” He said, snapping himself all the way back down into your throat, not wasting any time before he was fucking into it. He was still a little sensitive from his first orgasm, each bump of his tip pulling a husky whine from him.

It didn’t take long at all before he was already starting to get weak in the knees, each thrust feeling better than the last. He increased his pace, breathing picking up as small whimpers and gasps fell from his lips, a few final strokes before he was cumming down your throat, holding you flush against his navel as you swallowed the best you could.

He pulled out, leaving only the head of his cock on your tongue as he rutted against it, drawing out his orgasm until he was spent, cock softening when he pulled completely out.

You swallowed his load while staring right into his eyes, fluttering your lashes with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Salad can wait. I wanna see wha’s hidin’ under this uniform” Norman said as he suddenly leaned down, scooping you up and tossing you over a sturdy shoulder, strong arm keeping you secure by your middle.

You let out a high yelp at the change in position, bouncing slightly as he trudged out of the kitchen, tugging at your pants as he climbed the stairs. He tossed them somewhere for you to hunt down in the morning, letting out a satisfied chuckle at your round backside, smacking a bubbly cheek. You giggled around a moan, especially when he firmly squeezed that cheek and spread it, helping himself to the view of your soaked panties, a dark red with black lace.

He pushed open a door to a huge and luxurious bedroom, the bed he dropped you on feeling like a cloud pulled straight out of the sky. Norman tore his shirt off, you doing the same as he dipped down, dragging his lips and teeth across your dark skin, sucking and biting as he explored your exposed collarbone.

You groaned and shamelessly wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him down to feel his already-hardening cock against your wet heat. Norman seemed to have something different in mind.

“Wanna sit on my face, sweet girl?” He murmured into your ear, brushing curly hair out your face. “Did so well fer me, gotta return the favor”

“You don’t gotta ask me twice,” You said in a honeyed voice, using your legs to flip your positions.

Norman landed with a small sound, looking up at you as you rolled your hips down on where you had his cock trapped between your two bodies. His hands traveled up to your waist, caressing and fondling the deep skin.

You looked like a goddess straddling him, curly hair flowing everywhere and framing your upper half, Norman’s eyes flickering down to your black bra where your tits were practically spilling out. You crawled towards his face, dragging your core heat up his abs and pressing it on his chest, towering angelically above him.

“I hope you don’t disappoint me” You tease, lifting yourself up onto your knees as you stuff your panties to the side, heart racing a little.

Norman licked his lips, hands squeezing your hips as he watched you toy with your clit. “Wouldn’t be able to forgive myself” He whispered, tugging you towards him.

You lowered yourself down, Norman more so pulling you down onto his waiting tongue, licking a warm stripe up your aching cunt, a pleased moan coming from you as you gripped the headboard, rolling your hips.

He started at your clit, flattening his tongue and giving the puffy bundle of nerves multiple hard licks, waves of electricity shooting through all your limbs, down to your tightly curled toes. He took the small bud into his mouth, sucking hard and rubbing the tip of his tongue against the raw nerves, making you gasp and rut down onto him.

Norman seemed to be enjoying himself, soft groans of his own coming from him as he started to slide his tongue between your folds, teasing your entrance before swirling around your clit, repeating the action a few more times. He used his grip on your hips to steadily rock you back and forth in time with his deep licks.

Eventually, he slid his tongue all the way inside your hole, curling it as well as thrusting it in and out. “Mmm, fuck yes, keep using that fucking tongue in me” You were almost bouncing on his face at this point, passionately moaning as he curled the wet muscle into you, harshly licking as his nose bumped against your clitoris.

His hands encouraged your movements, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass as he plunged his tongue as deep into you as he could. His cock twitched and needily ached, hips slightly jerking upward into the air. You ground your clit down on the tip of his nose, body rolling as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.

Norman could feel you clenching around his tongue, deciding to speed up your nearing orgasm by suddenly slipping out you, replacing his nose on your clit for his tongue, and filling your back up with two thick fingers, blissfully curling right into your sweet spot. You moaned loudly as one of your hands tangled in his hair, gripping roughly. Your body trembled as he fingered you in time with his tongue, bone-crushing weight washing over you as your hole spasmed around his wiggling digits, grinding down on his tongue until you just couldn’t take it anymore, groaning as you could feel your used cunt leaking juices all over his hand and face.

You were both gasping for air when you lifted yourself onto wobbly knees, Norman’s fingers slipping out as you kept yourself steady by gripping the headboard with both hands.

“Are ya’ impressed now?” He asked, audibly out of breath as he licked your slick from his glistening lips.

You scoff, smiling down at him. “A little, but I’d like to get to the main course now,” You said, swinging a leg and crawling off from above him. “No more side dishes”

Norman watched as you discarded the drenched pair of panties somewhere in the room, landing on the wooden floor with a small slap. You yanked your socks up, taking a needed second to ball them together before tossing them as well, starting to grab at Norman’s unbuttoned pants.

He helped kick them off, murmuring to you as he tugged his own socks off. “Forgot ta’ take yer bra doll”

“That’s your job, mister famous” You chuckle as he comes up behind you, hands exploring your bare melanin skin as they run up your sides, climbing and cupping your breast, circling to your back to unclasp the bra hooks. He threw the final piece of garment onto the floor, pulling you flush against his front.

He started sucking on your neck, one of his hands fondling your tit while the other snaked down to toy with your puffy clit. He rubbed his cock between your cheek, biting and licking his way to your shoulder. He pinched and rolled your nipple with his fingers, trailing his lips up the side of your neck and nibbling on your pulse.

You moaned softly when his hand dropped your tit, coming up to brush your hair out the way, gathering it in a tight but gentle grip as he tugged your head back onto his shoulder, dragging his tongue across your newly exposed throat, up the underside of your jaw till he reached your lips, capturing them in his.

Norman’s cock twitched against you when your hand joined the one still fingering your clit, scratching his skin with your nails gingerly as he slowly kissed you, deep and lustful. You blindly reached your hand behind yourself and felt around for his dick, a small grunt coming from him when your fingers grazed his tip. “Ya’ ready fer me?” He murmured against your lips.

“Been ready since I got here” You sass, dropping down onto your elbows with round hips in the air. “You better fuck me like you mean it”

A hand landed on your ass, Norman’s other still holding up your hair, grip a little tighter now as he burned the image of your arch into his head, the hand he spanked you with spreading your cheek, thumbing your pussy as he pressed his tip to your entrance, greedily sucking him in.

He was big, but you were so wet and dripping to the point he just completely slid in, unrestrained groan coming out his chest as his entire cock was swallowed up and wrapped in your squishy walls, almost immediately starting to find a rhythm with his hips.

Norman’s fingers curled into the fat flesh of your ass, “Takin’ all of m’so goddamn well baby girl, could fuck this pussy for fuckin’ days” spreading you apart so he could watch the way his cock was sliding into you and blissfully stretching you open.

“Pound me already, I thought you were gonna be a meanie tonight” You drawl as you roll your head from side to side, pushing back needily against him.

He gripped your hair at the roots suddenly, yanking it roughly to pull you up onto your arms, almost pulling himself all the way out before slamming right into a sensitive bundle of nerves, mewl of pleasure racking your body as he started to relentlessly and mercilessly thrust into your body, so deep that you thought he was actually in your stomach for a moment.

You gasped and sputtered as he pulled you back by your hair in time with his harsh hips, huffing as he started to fuck you with all his strength. Each slam of his hips sent his cock flying into your cervix, each one leaving you more breathless than the last. “Got real quiet all of a sudden girl. This wha’ ya’ want?”

Norman’s fingers were fisted in your hair, the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberated in the large room, bed quietly squeaking as he railed you, watching how each forward thrust of his hips made your ass bounce, a wet sound coming from where his balls slapped against your clit.

“Yes, Oh fuck yes,” You mewl, eyes rolling back as your toes curled. “Harder, I know you can fuck me so much harder” Norman groans at your words, yanking you back onto your knees flush against his front and wrapping a hand around your throat, dropping his grip in curly hair to tightly grip your hip, jamming the entirety of his cock into your body, poking spots you didn’t even know were there.

He quickly resumed his unforgiving pace, pounding into you so deep and so rough, you choked out small sobs with each hit of his tip, gasping as you started to lose air. It was everything Tyler told you it would be and more, dots starting to cloud your vision and prickle under your skin, clenching as you could feel each thrust send you further and further to the edge.

You can tell Norman can feel it too, resting his sweaty forehead against your shoulder as he starts to lose rhythm slightly, pace not faltering as his cock twitches inside you, so tight and hot, your cunt squeezing his full dick like never before. It made Norman’s head fuzzy and a little dizzy, fueling the buzz he had from the earlier alcohol, though he only had about maybe three drinks total tonight. He was purely drunk off your body, letting out a soft whimper as he throbbed, on the verge of his orgasm.

“Feels so good, don’ wanna pull out of ya’…” Norman mumbled as he rocked himself into you, grunting when his tip nudged against your cervix. “Might just hafta’ stuff ya’ beautiful”

You rolled your head back onto his shoulder, his grip around your throat loosening as you cheekily smiled. “Yes please, let’s make a mess” Norman mirrored your expression before reaching down and capturing your lips in a deep kiss, swirling his tongue around yours.

He pulled his hips back, leaving only the tip in before sliding all the way back inside, hungrily groaning into your mouth as he repeated the action, downright stroking his cock using your cunt. "Jus' gonna let me to fill this pretty pussy? Pump you full of all my cum?" Norman groaned, increasing his pace as his hot mouth landed on your neck, his teeth and beard scraping the skin as he continued his deep strokes, still pounding blissfully into you.

"God yes, give it all to me" You moan, rough fingers coming back up to your hair. Norman forcefully pinned your upper half down into the fluffy sheets, his other hand firmly gripping your ass as he fucked into you like an animal, shoving his whole dick into your cunt from tip to base. You let out a high keen with every unforgiving thrust, each one sending you a little closer to the edge.

Norman huskily panted, whimpering a little as he sped up, this time pulling you back onto his cock to meet his hips as he started to really fuck you, now railing into you with all his strength. Uncontrolled whines came from you, eyes rolling as his hand tightly gripped your scalp, each loud slap of his pelvis against your backside sent you lurching forward, only to be yanked back by the fistful of curly hair.

Your walls were practically milking his cock, so warm and wet around him, greedily sucking him in with every thrust, squeezing the entirety of his length as he increased his pace even more, letting out unrestrained gasps and grunts as his hips begin to stutter in their rhythm. “Fuck m’gonna fuckin’ cum” Norman chokes out, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he groaned with each hot drag of your cunt, cock twitching and throbbing inside you as he fucked himself closer and closer over the edge. “Jus’ keep fuckin’ takin’ me doll, takin’ me so damn well”

His words made you tighten up around him, and it was all he need to fly off the handle, tossing his head back as his hips sputtered, cock slipping out of your stretched hole with an audible pop, Norman softly groaning as he came all over your twitching pussy, suddenly pushing himself inside and letting out a loud, shaky whimper, fingers curling in your hair as he started to fuck into you again, followed by the filthy squleching of Norman’s cock sliding into your ruined cunt, his cum becoming a creamy mess were it was being pushed in and out, dribbling down your folds to your clit where his balls slapped lewdly against.

“So fucking good for me, ya’ve got such a perfect pussy ‘could fuck you all day” Norman purred, dipping his head down to latch onto the skin of your already marked shoulder, sinking his teeth into the flesh and shuddering when he seemed to slip impossibly deeper into you. His hand fell from your hair, both palms falling firmly on either side of your head. "Feels like a goddamn dream" He snapped forward, breathing hot in your ear and gently nibbling on it. One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, helpless gasps falling from you with each drag of his cock, feeling the throbbing veins which each thrust.

Your nails curled into his skin, eyes fluttering shut as your second orgasm built rapidly in your gut, whines of pleasure spilling past your lips. You couldn't even speak, each hard snap of his hips knocking the words straight out your chest. Norman roughly groaned in your ear, hotly kissing and licking at your bare shoulder. You were both so close, it only fueled his animalistic pace as he sped up.

Norman fisted the comforter in his hands, the skin tingling and raw from where you dug into it, little half-crescents decorating the back of his hand, and puffy lines sprouting blood on his arm, sweet sobs coming from you with every jab of his cock. Norman buried his sweaty face into the crook of your neck, sucking and biting the skin, his beard scratchy as he trailed his lips up to your pounding pulse. A breathy, shaky whimper came from him as he stuttered in his movements, pressing himself deep as he spilled into you for the second time, capturing your kiss in a greedy and heated kiss, moaning into each other's mouth as he drew out your shared orgasm.

When he pulled out with a slick pop, softly humming as the cold air hit his cock, you were both thoroughly fucked and completely worn out, panting heavily with Norman still halfway on top of you.

“Are ya' impressed yet?” He huffed out, a smirk forming on his face as he tugged your head back.

With a deep exhale and a small smile playing on your lips, you looked over at him with heavy, satisfied eyes. "I guess I am"

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Okay, I absolutely LOVED writing this request. It practically consumed my life lol. I would definitely be open to more reqs like this where there’s a little bit of a plot, even though I already have so many that are unanswered 🥲🥲🥲

I was really nervous about posting this because I’m just not a fan of the ending but at this point all I can do is hope for the best

THAT BEING SAID If people are also interested in sending in more Norman requests… 🥶🧏🏾‍♀️ y’know where to hmu babe

ALSO SHOUTOUT TO MY FAV POOKIE TYLER WHO DIDNT EVEN KNOW I WAS USING HER AS A WAITRESS I LOOVE YOOU BABYGIRL MY OLDER SISSY FR 😝

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi Miss Raven! I’m new to twisted wonderland, so I’m still confused by a lot of things, and I still can’t understand Idia’s curse and what it exactly does. Also, I don’t understand, why his friends memories will be erased? Can you explain it to me? I’m really lost

I believe you’re bringing up some points I mentioned from this post (since I got this ask shortly after that original post went live)?

Your questions are answered in book 6 of the main story. However, I realize that not everyone has access to the game, the time to read/watch it, and/or the cards to power through to that deep in the story. It’s easy for newcomers to understand the gist in the beginning (~prologue and book 1), but books 6 and 7 are packed with detail and lore that can be overwhelming to understand without sufficient context.

Firstly, the Shroud family curse originates from the Age of the Gods. The Shrouds are considered a branch family to the Jupiter family, and during this time period they attempted to overthrow them. For their defiance, they and all their descendants were inflicted with a curse which quickly burns away blot (the byproduct of magic). This seems like a strength (since that means it’s hard for a Shroud to overblot), but in reality it condemns them since their bodies will start to burn away at their own magic/life force if there isn’t any blot around to consume. In other words, the curse is detrimental to the health of Shroud mages.

Back when mages were still feared and the relationship between magic and lot was not well understood, the Jupiters sealed away overblots and a Watchman (from the Shroud family) was appointed to guard them. Over time, the Watchmen would become Styx, a secret independent organization that researches blot. Some Shrouds they could perhaps find a cure for their curse through these endeavors. Being around blot for their work also technically benefits them, as their bodies would burn the blot in their environment, thus making it less burdensome on the Shrouds’ physical status. However, Idia often phrases their circumstances as shackling and restrictive, as the Shrouds have basically been put in positions they cannot escape from due to the nature of their curse. His childhood is also presented to us as very dreary, as he grew up in Styx HQ, isolated from the real world and in a sterile environment surrounded by Styx staff.

In book 6, Idia reveals himself to the OB boys up until that point as the acting director of Styx. He then proceeds to conduct experiments on them and they goof off a little as well. Ortho expresses hope that Idia could maybe become friends with the OB boys, to which Idia is pessimistic and claims it’s pointless to try since they’ll “be sent down the River Lethe” eventually. In Greek mythology, that river is said to wipe the memories of those that submerge itself in its waters; in TWST, it’s a special program thar Styx uses to purge the memories of outsiders brought into their HQ. This would allow the outsiders to return to normal life without issue while also preserving the secrecy of Styx. It’s like… the ultimate NDA 😂

Because the OB boys are outsiders, Styx has to wipe their memories as a safety precaution before they can be released. This means that all of the fun times Idia spends with them in Styx will be forgotten too, so Idia doesn’t believe it’s worth it to make an effort to befriend them. It’s implied that Idia has always been pessimistic about his chances at forming friendships because of his isolated upbringing in combination with the expectation that he is going to become the future director of Styx—a thankless job that forces him to toil in a cold, dark place, far away from any intimate human connections.

Hope that helps ^^

[elizabethwritesmen]

I once was poison ivy

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Part 2 but now I’m your daisy

Older!Fireman!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Synopsis - You've spent your entire life taking men who intend to manipulate you and manipulating them instead. It's the only way you know how to survive. Then, one day, you meet Steve Harrington and you realize love and lust are so much more than survival.

A/N - This will be a two-parter. Maybe three if it runs too long.

Warnings: Fluff, sexual themes, smut to come in the second part, talks of using men for their money, vivid description of a car accident, drunk driving.

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

I've been breaking hearts a long time and Fooling with them older guys Just playthings for me to use

The napkin on my lap was in pieces.

I'd been tearing it apart, whether out of anxious habit or sheer boredom I wasn't sure.

The man sitting across from me just would not stop talking. He started the second I met up with him in the parking lot and hadn't closed his mouth since. I nodded along and provided just enough commentary to seem present, but my brain was miles away.

He cleared his throat, staring at me pointedly until I met his eyes, a saccharine smile gracing my face.

"Are you alright, doll? I know all this shop talk can be a lot for a pretty girl like you to keep up with," he stated with all the confidence in the world, and I fought a scoff at his condescension.

"Oh, I'm fine!" I grinned wildly, almost childlike, "To be honest, I'm just in awe of you. Absolutely fascinated. I keep asking myself what I did to deserve a date with you!"

The lies cut through my teeth like butter, slick and smooth. I knew they worked when he puffed out his chest and a red tint covered his full cheeks, "Well darling, if you keep talking to me like that, you'll get more than one date with me!"

"There's nothing I'd love more!"

I know I should've cursed him for all he was worth, but that's not how my lifestyle worked. I didn't care how much of a pig a man was, as long as his money was louder than his mouth. And this man's money definitely was.

You see, he was older, a business man. He worked at some high end finance job, and he was most definitely the boss. I met him through my own job. I was a waitress and he frequented my corner booth on his lunch breaks. He knew my schedule and came to eat every single day I worked at 12:00 sharp with a new story about his job, his divorce, or his 1970 Chevelle. On the days I didn't work, he stayed away, claiming I was the only girl there worth looking at. And, every time, he left me a crisp 100 as a tip.

The last time he'd come in, he'd ended his lunch by asking me on a date. He told me he wanted to pick a dress out for me and treat me to the nicest dinner I'd ever had. Poor thing had no idea he wasn't the first millionaire to offer that. I agreed happily, pushing down any reservations and forcing myself to look forward to it.

So there we were, at one of those restaurants where you have to dress formally and use certain etiquette. I hated those places, I knew I didn't belong there, but it was what I had to do and I always did it with a smile on my face.

He continued talking and I began fiddling with the Versace dress adorning me, tugging on the hem. I only heard snippets of what he was saying. After hearing a million men tell the same stories, I thought there was no reason to pay any real attention.

Our waitress startled me out of the trance I'd fallen into, dropping the check off at our table.

"Here," he smiled, placing $200 neatly in the little black book, "That's enough for you to add a cheesecake to-go for my beautiful companion, and to buy something pretty for yourself!"

The girl's eyes widened and she grinned, staring at the generous amount she'd been given. It took her mere moments to bring by a bag with the cheesecake in a box at the bottom, and I was finally done.

"I'll walk you to your car," Mr. Boring offered in a way that I couldn't possibly refuse.

Well, almost done.

Once we reached my Passat, he pressed me lightly against the driver's door and planted a sloppy kiss on my lips. I cringed my way through it until it was finally over, and he opened my door for me.

"Maybe we can go out again next week?" he proposed, "I'll call you and we can set it up."

"Of course!" I nodded, eagerly climbing into the seat.

"Oh, and before I forget," he sighed, pulling his wallet from his pocket and fishing out two more crisp hundred dollar bills, "This should cover gas and the rest is a thank-you for making an old man feel young again. Seeing you in that dress made my evening."

I smiled at him as he walked away, my expression dropping the second he was out of sight. And then, I was finally headed home.

Something happened for the first time In the darkest little paradise Shaking, pacing, I just need you

It was about a 30 minute drive to my house, and I had the music cranked up the entire way. I was passing through the last intersection before my highway exit when I saw something out of the corner of my eye.

It was an SUV, much bigger than my car, headed straight for me. It was going so fast but in that moment time slowed down. It was too late for me to stop or get out of the way, I knew I was screwed. I yanked the wheel to the right, hoping they wouldn't hit me directly. I thought that if they caught the back end of my car it would hurt less.

They slammed into the back driver's side door, just barely missing me, sending me careening across the highway and into the ditch. I screamed as my head slammed into my window, blood running down my temple and onto my neck.

Finally, everything stopped. My car was, beyond all rationality, still playing music. I turned it all the way down, looking around.

The SUV was upside down on the highway, engulfed in flames. I saw a man laying about 20 feet away from it on the asphalt. I prayed he was okay, and that nobody else was in his vehicle.

Then, I examined myself. Glass had shattered everywhere, and there was a pile of it in my lap. My poor Versace was tattered and bloody, and I frowned momentarily in a small fit of grief. The back of my car was completely done for, and I was shocked my airbags didn't go off. Of course, there was no impact to the front of my car.

It only took minutes for sirens to overtake the scene. There were two ambulances, a firetruck, and several police cars.

I slipped my seatbelt off, groaning at the pain. It felt like I'd been hit by a truck. I guess I had, in a manner of speaking. My body was suffering from the turmoil.

Shockingly, my door opened when I pulled the handle and I climbed out, falling to the ground with a cry and a sharp wince.

"Hey, hey, hey!" the voice was deep, and I glanced up to see the fireman it belonged to running in my direction, "Don't move, just stay still. Please, stay still. God, you could've died trying to climb out of that car. Too tough for your own good!" He kneeled beside me, his arms holding me up, his eyes scanning me for all signs of injury. "Here you go, calm down. It's okay now, I've got you."

His voice was soothing me, and so was his thumb as he rubbed calming circles on my hip.

"Please," I cried, my voice almost too small to be audible. I squirmed, trying and failing to break free, "I need... I need..."

I wasn't sure what I was pleading for. I just wanted relief. My bones felt like they were combusting.

"I'm gonna get you some help, sweetheart, I promise. You're safe with me." He called the paramedics over to have a look at me. They ran straight for us and he lifted me up placing me comfortably on the stretcher.

As he began to walk away, I called out meekly, "Please stay with me!" and reached blindly for his hand. He gave it to me and nodded, squeezing my palm lightly as he helped them wheel me to the ambulance. They got me inside of it and starting poking and prodding, asking me questions.

"I don't want to go to the hospital," I whined, "I'm fine, I don't need a hospital."

"We gotta get you to the hospital, sweetheart. I'm sorry, I know it's scary, but you're tough though, huh?," his voice was still so soothing, and I nodded, holding tighter to his hand that was still intertwined with mine.

"Will you come with me?" I stared up at him, my eyes wide and pitiful in a beg.

"I can't, I have to get back and help clean all this up," he told me, his voice regretful.

"Please," I was whimpering at that point, desperate. I hated begging but he was the only thing keeping me from an anxiety attack. The only thing grounding me. The only thing keeping me from asking questions like, what if I'm seriously hurt? What's going to happen with my car? Is my cheesecake okay? How am I going to replace this dress?

Okay, some of the questions were silly but cut me some slack. I'd just been hit by a truck.

He chewed his lip in thought for a moment before sighing, "Let me talk to my boss and see what I can do."

He was gone for about five minutes, but when he came back, he was only in a white T shirt and his turnout pants. He set his jacket and hat on the bench seat next to me and climbed in beside me, grasping my hand again.

"Thank you," I whispered, and the sweet smile he gave me warmed my tummy.

Hours passed in a flurry of medical stuff I didn't understand and tests being run. When everything calmed down, I was sitting on a bed in an ER, a thick medical grade bandaid on my temple where I hit the window and some pain killers in my system. Fortunately, I wasn't hurt badly at all, just extremely sore and shaken up. I had a concussion, but that was the brunt of it.

"Okay, Miss L/N. I've got a prescription here for painkillers, it should help soothe your soreness and your headache. Other than that, you're free to go," the doctor walked in the room and told me jovially. He was nice, he made me feel comfortable. I was thankful to have him instead of someone colder. But what really made me feel comfortable was the firefighter, whose name I'd discovered was Steve. He stayed right beside me the entire time, even when I was first admitted. He even called my mom for me when I was first admitted, and that's the only time he let go of my hand.

"I think that's all, thank you," I sincerely responded.

"Great. Then I'll leave you be. If anything else happens, come back. Concussions are no joke. But I'm sure Steve knows that, so you're in good hands. He'll take care of you," he gave us a pointed look, glancing from mine and Steve's interlaced fingers to our faces.

"Bye, Joe," Steve dramatized, rolling his eyes.

"Bye Steve. Bye Y/N," the doctor responded between laughs, taking his exit.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Steve turned to me, his hard features softening the second his eyes met mine.

"Have you heard anything else from my mom?" I asked, trying to keep the hope in my voice at bay.

"She checked on you once, about an hour ago. I told her I was taking care of you."

"Oh."

His eyes were boring into me, searching. I'm sure it seemed odd to him, a mother not immediately rushing to her child's side when she hears there's been an accident. Wasn't very strange to me, though. My mom had never spared much time for me.

He cleared his throat, speaking more quietly, "She said she wants me to get you home safe, so that's what I'm gonna do. One of the nurses is gonna give us a ride to the station and I'm gonna drive you from there."

"Well it's settled, then. Let's go," I beamed, grabbing his hand and hopping off the bed. I didn't make it very far, though, nearly collapsing the second my feet hit solid ground.

Steve was quick, catching me and holding me steady. I lifted my eyes and they met his, inches away. I could feel his breath, warm against my skin.

"Be careful there, Super Girl. You're too weak to take on the world just yet," he sighed, and I had to fight the urge to lean in.

He was handsome. I'd noticed it the second he ran over to me, my knight in dirty turnout gear. I'd noticed it again in the ambulance when he told me he could go to the hospital with me. And I noticed it as his arms squeezed me tighter.

"I can walk," I mumbled.

"I'm sure you can, but you aren't. Come on, I've got you," he stated, as if there was no room for argument or disagreement. One of the arms around me slipped down to the crook of my knees and he lifted, pulling me securely into his hold. I gasped, grasping tightly to his shirt, my nails leaving imprints in the soft fabric.

"Steve, I'm heavy!" I screeched, and he chuckled.

"Even if you were heavy, I can handle it," he said, like it was obvious. My stare stayed skeptical and he sighed, "Sweetheart, you're not heavy. You're nothing compared to the gear I wear and haul, and the people I have to carry out of buildings."

I stayed stubborn for a moment longer before giving him a slight nod, "If your back starts to break, put me down!"

"I don't have any plans to put you down, sweetheart," he winked, and with that, he was carrying me to the ambulance bay where an Altima was waiting for us. One of the nurses was leaning against it. She was pretty, like a young Angelina Jolie. Her scrubs hugged every curve and jealousy pinged in my gut at how perfect she was. It turned to discomfort, though, when I saw the way she was looking at us.

There was a scowl plastered onto her face, full of judgment. Her eyes were stuck on Steve's arms around me, and if looks could kill, she'd have me dead in a second.

"Can you open the door for me, Bridget?" he asked, frustration laced in his voice from the way she was staring at us instead of helping.

"Of course, Stevie," she cooed, doing as she asked. He helped me in the back seat, going as far as to buckle the belt around me. My breath hitched as he did so, the proximity turning my cheeks bright red.

Bridget's face dropped as he slid in beside me and shut the door behind himself. She opened it right back, "What are you doing, Steve? Your spot is up front!"

"I'd rather sit back here with Y/N and make sure she's okay. Come on, we should get going. I'm sure she's ready to shower and rest."

She huffed, her anger embarrassingly evident, but she gave a slight nod and slammed the door, climbing into the driver's side and speeding off. My head was pounding, so I leaned on Steve's shoulder the whole time. Every now and then he'd shield me from the sun with his hands or run his fingers through my hair, keeping me as comfortable as he could.

Once we got to the fire station, he helped me out and we waved goodbye to Bridget. She gave me one more dirty look before leaving, and I hoped I would never see her again.

"There you are, Steve!" a voice joined into the mix, and I turned around to see a man about Steve's height with long curly hair approaching. He had a bag in his hand.

"Hey, Eddie," Steve greeted, "Thank you for covering my shift all night."

"All night and all morning. I'm assuming you won't be back after you take her home."

Steve looked bashful. It was cute, his cheeks turning red and his eyes averting downward.

"I promise I'll make it up to you, man. I just couldn't leave her, she needed me," he rushed out an explanation and I couldn't stifle my giggle.

"Yeah, sure she did. Come on, dude, I'm not mad. I needed the hours anyway and I'm not like you, I don't have a ton of beautiful women begging me to escort them to the hospital. My Friday night was all free."

"I don't have a ton of them either," Steve cried out defensively, "Just the one."

"Well then get her home before she decides she doesn't neeeeeeed you anymore," the other man, Eddie, winked then and turned to me, "Oh, by the way, I'm Eddie. Steve's best friend, confidant, life saver, shift coverer. I'm the reason he could be with you all night."

His tone was joking, so I played along, "Oh, well thank you so very much. I would've just died without him. As a matter of fact if he leaves my sight I'm sure I'll faint."

"Marry her," Eddie deadpanned, turning to Steve with the most ridiculously serious look on his face. The only response he got was an eyeroll. "Okay, whatever, get out of here. Here's the rest of your stuff, and what we managed to get out of Y/N's car. You can make the shift change up to me later." He handed Steve the bag and glanced my way, "And Y/N, I'm sure I'll be seeing you again. Until then, I'm glad you're okay."

Steve pulled his keys out of the bag, clicking them. A truck beeped across the parking lot and he wrapped his arm around me, helping me over to it.

The last we heard of Eddie was a scream over the parking lot, "Oh and Steve, put some clothes on that poor girl!"

He glanced down at my ripped up dress and blushed.

"Here," he handed me his turnout jacket, "Put this on."

I did as he asked and slipped back into his arms, allowing him to lift me into the passenger seat. I liked the way the material felt on me, warm and loose. It smelled of smoke but it also smelled of cinnamon and something muskier, all Steve.

As he pulled away, I decided to make small talk. It was a ten minute drive back to my house and I didn't want it to be awkward. Not that a single moment we'd already spent together had been. Steve had a way of making me feel like I was finally safe at home.

"Bridget and Eddie seemed nice," I commented. Obviously, I didn't mean the first part but I had a sinking feeling that Steve and Bridget were something of an item and I didn't want to upset him.

"Eddie is a great guy. We've known each other forever, and he's always had my back." He paused for a moment, "And Bridget was awful to you today. You don't have to pretend she wasn't."

"I just thought you and her were probably friends, or maybe even a thing, and I didn't want to say anything mean about her just in case," I smiled softly, apologetically.

"We're not. But she wants to be. She's a uniform chaser. She doesn't know the first thing about me other than my job."

"Do you get that a lot? Girls that are only interested in you because of what you do?"

"More often than you'd think. But it's okay. I guess it's better than not being wanted at all."

"You think if you were something else, something more boring, girls wouldn't want you?" My brows were furrowed in confusion. How could a man so wonderful have such a gaping insecurity?

"I didn't feel that way at first, but I guess I've become cynical over time."

"Well, I'm cynical with the best of them and I'm telling you that you're wrong," I started, "Don't get me wrong. The turnout gear is ruggedly sexy. Straight out of a calendar, really. But I wouldn't have wanted you to come to the hospital with me if you were any other fireman. I wanted you there because of how you made me feel. Safe, and taken care of."

Silence filled the air. I don't think he knew how to respond.

"What about you?" he finally asked, "That was a nice dress before it was ruined. You must've been on quite a date."

"I wouldn't call it that," I stared at my lap, color rising in my cheeks.

"Didn't go well?"

"It's not that, it's just... I wasn't really interested in him."

"What was wrong with him?"

"You ask a lot of questions," I breathed out a laugh, wanting a subject change. I felt shame, like if Steve found out the kind of men I date and why, he would drop me off and forget about me. I didn't want that. I craved more of him. More of his time, and his headspace. I hadn't known him long, but it's hard not to swoon over a man who spends hours of his time taking care of you.

"I'll stop. For now."

Shortly after he said that, we pulled into my driveway. He helped me out of his truck and into my house, commenting on how cute he thought everything was.

"Where's your bathroom? I'm gonna get the shower running for you," he turned to me and said.

"Oh," I blushed, "You don't have to do that. Really. I can manage to get around."

"I want to. I told you I would take care of you, and I'm not doing it halfway. Now should I go looking until I find it or are you gonna tell me where it is?"

"My room is down the hall, the bathroom is in there," I smiled shyly.

He didn't waste a second, pulling me back into him and let me lean on him the entire way there. I leaned against the sink as he looked around, taking the room in.

"A bath would probably be better than a shower. You're still weak, I don't want you to slip and hurt yourself."

I didn't respond, I just watched him as he turned the faucet on and felt the water, adjusting until the temperature was perfect.

"Thank you," I finally said as he finished up and stopped the drain.

"Of course. You gonna be able to get from the tub to the bed?" he asked me.

I giggled, nodding, "I think I'll manage."

"Okay... if you have any trouble or need anything, you're welcome to call me."

"How am I gonna do that without your number?"

His face went red, a silly smile crossing his lips, "Of course. You're right. Here."

He slipped his phone out, pulling up the screen to create a new contact and handed it to me. I quickly typed in my name and info and handed it back. He called me once, hanging up as soon as it rang, and nodded once affirmatively.

"There. Now you have mine, too."

"I'll call you, Steve."

"Yes, if you need anything at all."

"Okay."

He seemed reluctant to leave, and I was reluctant to let him, but he finally mumbled a goodbye and let himself out. I grinned into my hand, the butterflies still not settled.

I was not the kind of girl to feel things like I was feeling. I had a process, a way of getting through life, and it didn't involve getting hung up on the first handsome fireman I meet. I willed myself to come back to reality, but it was difficult. His face was stamped into my mind.

My phone pinged and I glanced down, his number filling my screen.

"I left my jacket. Can I stop by later and get it? And bring you dinner? I'd like to check on you anyway."

Any hope of coming back to reality flew out the window. I typed quickly and pressed send before I could talk myself out of it.

"It's a date."

[kurishiri]

n.5 . . . “ in the medical records reflect a hidden love ”

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties for characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— cw: crown being crown, a little mention of blood.

Kate: Roger, there’s trouble…

Roger: What’s wrong, you got a case of diarrhea or something?

Kate: Wh— I don’t!

Roger: Haha, sorry, it was a joke. So, what actually happened?

Kate: It’s Liam...

We headed to the laboratory, where I saw Liam, one of his arms dangling and swaying at his side with no support.

Roger: I’m pretty sure you weren’t scheduled for a mission, so how’d this happen?

R: And Al, weren’t you in my room just a couple hours ago? What happened between then and now?

Alfons: After I left, I accompanied Liam on a most amusing outing to satisfy his curiosity.

Kate: Apparently they were doing a game where they ran on top of moving trains...

Roger: You guys’ll get caught for this stuff sooner or later.

Liam: ...I’m really sorry for causing you trouble like this, Roger. But, can you... fix this?

Roger: Ahh... this one might be beyond my scope.

R: Worst case, it might never heal again...

Kate: N-no way...

Roger: ...is what I would say, if it wasn’t just joint dislocation. That’s all it is, so here, take a breath. I’ll put it back in place for you... one, two, three—

Liam: Whoa!

L: Ah, it’s back to normal!

Alfons: Yaaayy, cue an applause from me here.

Kate: Oh, thank goodness, Liam! And thank you so much, Roger.

Roger: Jeez, all that ruckus and it was just a dislocation—

Victor: Roger, there’s an emergency!

Harrison: Hey—let go, you damn geezer!

Roger: What is it this time?

Victor: Harrison stuffed his cheeks with the scones I had just finished baking, so he burned his mouth!

V: See, look, it’s already red here, the poor thing!

Harrison: ...It’s nothing worth going to Roger for. I’ll just put some ice on it or something.

Kate: Uhm, then what about Lord Elbert?

Victor: Elbert has a case of dry eyes, it seems. See here, it’s a little red!

Elbert: ...??

Harrison: You’re so overprotective.

Roger: Now hold up guys, just who do you take me for?

Ellis: Hey, Roger. Wah, it’s packed here.

Roger: What’s up, Ellis. Don’t tell me Jude got himself stabbed again by someone who hates him—

Ellis: Ah, sorry, this time it’s me.

Kate: Ah, Ellis, there’s blood on your arm!

Ellis: Don’t worry, Kate, I’m fine. We’ve already stopped the bleeding, and the wound isn’t deep anyhow.

Jude: It’s ‘cause yer so big n’ ya got distracted.

Ellis: But, at that rate you really would have been stabbed at your side?

E: I can’t have you die now, Jude.

Jude: Ya always yappin’ ‘bout that, give my ears a break already.

William: Hello there, Roger.

Roger: Will... don’t tell me even you got hurt somewhere too?

Liam: I think it’s just he heard all of us talking and came to see what was going on, right?

William: Hehe... yes, that’s right. I was quite drawn to the voices here. It seems you all were having fun.

Letting these troublemakers say what they want and do as they please, it was so noisy I could hardly bear it.

But, that was a scene I was almost painfully familiar with as well.

(...Yeah, that’s right, this is just the “norm” for me.)

As long as the thing called Curses exist in this world, though, this “norm” will eventually break.

After all, those who bear a Curse are absolutely unable to escape their “tragic fate.”

But, if by any chance, I found a way we could escape from these fates.

If that happened——if their smiles don’t have to be stolen by their destined fates,

(I guess... I would be a little happy.)

“Just how long do you plan on continuing this?” Al’s question popped into my mind again.

Roger: Al, I’ve got an answer to that question you asked.

Alfons: .........

Roger: Until the day I see my ambition realized.

Alfons: So I see you are a difficult person as well. Alright then, do what you wish.

Seeing Al shrug his shoulders, I couldn’t help but think he hadn’t changed at all since he was a kid, and I ended up laughing at the thought.

Roger: Jeez, all you troublemakers line up in a single file now. I’ll examine you all.

Kate: I’ll help, Roger!

Roger: ......... [surprised]

R: Thanks, that’ll be a big help, Kate.

R: There are some bandages on that shelf over there—

Within the Cursed ones, there was a unique presence named Kate.

For just a moment, I thought that she might hold the power to break the Curses we bore.

And I couldn’t help but wonder, why did I think something like that?

But whether such was the case would reveal itself in these fleeting moments that would pass us by from here on out.

Fin.

← prev fin. ecb story 🪞🍻

full masterlist 👑

END NOTES: thank you to everyone who read and supported the translation! this is quite an interesting story, where Roger gives us a snippet of multiple characters who have appeared in previous episodes of “the past records” plus Victor. I think Roger has always struck me as a sort of older brother type with an interesting sense of humor, and it’s really charming to be able to see that in action with so many of the other cast.

he may be a bit egotistical, but i really can feel that he has a soft spot for the other crown members, and treats them with respect — it was especially evident to me when he vowed to not touch elbie without explicit permission first when he knew he was adverse to doctors, and when he told jude to do what he wanted when he realized smoking was involved in his drive to live.

i hope this gives you a taste of roger — and others — when you go into his route!

p.s. there is an epilogue to this story, which i will eventually translate, but that actually takes place after kate and roger become lovers and it can sort of be treated like a separate story i feel. so, i will be translating the early bird bonus story, which features alfons and roger (..as children!) first, as i feel that fits with the timeline of this story a bit better, haha.

[lou-struck]

I Got Your Back

Asmodeus x reader

~ Asmo has a special gift for your beach trip that just  keeps on giving.

WC: 1.5k

Warnings: Kinda suggestive but its Asmo so what do you expect 

~This is one of the requested prompts for my Summertime Fun Event. Feel free to check it out. 

You are perched on Mammon's shoulders as you stare at your opponents in your friendly seaside game of chicken. Beel and Belphie make a formidable team, but Mammon has enough energy for the both of you.

Or so you thought, one minute you had your arms outstretched, trying to knock belphie into the shallow sandbar, and the next you find yourself falling into the cerulean water barely having enough time to hold your nose as the waves claim you. 

By the time you resurface, you find that all three demons are staring down at you worriedly.

"Oi, watch it; humans are fragile. You coulda crushed em." Mammon scolds, scrambling to help you to your feet. The water goes up to your waist and is a refreshing break from the heat of the human world sun. 

"M' sorry," Beel frowns, looking at you with big eyes, "I didn't realize that this game was so dangerous,"

"It's not that dangerous Beel; You're fine, right Mc?" Belphie asks; although he tries to hide it, there is a bit of guilt in his lavender gaze as he looks you over. 

"It's okay," you giggle, wiping some of the seawater out of your face before it drips into your eyes. "It's all a part of the game; I'm just not as physically strong as the two of you, so I fell."

"Are you sure?" Beel asks, "I didn't hurt you at all?"

"Not a bit," you say, "But the game may last longer if you guys got someone else to play against you."

"Like Lucifer," Belphie smiles evilly. "I'd love to push him into the water."

"Let's go get 'em." Mammon smiles. "I bet I could get some serious Grimm if I caught it on camera."

"And we can get some food on the way," Beel adds hungrily. 

The three brothers trudge out of the water in search of the Eldest as you head towards your spot on the shore. 

The only one who is at your little setup is Asmodeus. 

The Avatar of Lust is sprawled out on a luxurious-looking lounge chair, his peach-colored eyes hidden behind a glamorously large pair of sunglasses. Not a hair is out of place on his head and he looks camera-ready. 

"Aren't you going to take a swim, Asmo?" you ask, sitting on the chair next to him; this chair is adorned with a fluffy pink towel that cushions your back as you lean into it. "The water feels great."

He tosses his head back in laughter and lowers his glasses seductively, giving you a stunning view of his beautiful eyes. "Sorry Hon, my hair looks too perfect to get it wet. I'd rather just sit here and get a little glow. Would you like to join me?"

"I would," you beam, "I think I need a break after that last game of chicken."

"I saw that," he giggles. "But you should probably reapply a bit of your sunscreen after falling in the water. You have such lovely skin; I'd hate for it to dry out."

"You're probably right," you reply, noting that if you are going to be out in the sun, it's important to protect yourself just a bit.

You spot a bottle of sunscreen sticking out of a navy blue beach bag and reach for it, but you are stopped as Asmo lightly takes hold of your wrist. "Not that old bottle Mc, I made sure to order you a custom bottle of screen that is sure to make you feel your best."

He reaches into his own beach bag and pulls out a fancy-looking teal bottle with golden lettering. You don't even have to read the label to know that this product belongs to one of the human world's most luxurious cosmetics companies. Even just a trial-size bottle of this is worth more than a full tank of gasoline, and Asmodeus went ahead and bought you a full-sized one.

"Thank you for this Asmo, but are you sure that you don't want to keep this for yourself? This brand is pretty nice." You ask, feeling guilty to be given such a nice product unexpectedly. 

"Of course not, Hon, I got that made just for you." He smiles, pulling out an identical-looking bottle from his bag. "But don't worry, I got one for myself too. All I want is for the both of us to look and feel our best while we are on this little trip. And besides, seeing that cute look you get on your face when I spoil you makes the cost more than worth it."

Although it is ridiculously hot outside, you and Asmo both know that the flustered heat blossoming on the apples of your cheeks is because of him. Knowing that he is able to charm you, being just himself, is like a drug to the Avatar of Lust, and you can tell that he is waiting eagerly for you to put the present he got for you to use. 

Carefully, you grab the tube of whipped sunscreen and press lightly down on the fancy-looking pump until a dollop of coconut-scented lotion squirts onto your hand. The lightweight product intrigues you as you wonder how this will compare to the stuff you have used in summer's past. 

You start with your arms and are amazed at how the product seems to melt into your skin without leaving so much as a streak. "Asmo, this stuff is amazing; it doesn't feel cakey at all." You say excitedly, noticing how your skin glows healthily under the protectant; he grins as you apply it to the rest of you. 

When you make it to the backs of your shoulders, you stop as you try to figure out how to get those hard-to-reach spots on your back. You were so focused on the task at hand that you failed to notice Asmodeus had moved from his seat until he was right behind you, the most innocent of looks on his face.

"Ooh darling, let me get your back for you." Asmo purrs in your ear. Sending little shivers down your spine. 

It's crazy how easy it is for him to fluster you. 

"Oh, thank you Asmo," you say looking at him over your shoulder. "I couldn't get it by myself."

"That's what I'm here for, Love," he grins, squeezing a generous glob of lotion onto his hands. "I have to make sure you are taking care of your beautiful self."

"Oh, it's cold." you gasp when his lotion-covered hands make contact with your back, sending a jolt down your spine. His movements are soft, but tender, making those pesky butterflies in your stomach go wild. 

"It's so cute when you squirm like that. But try not to move so much," he chuckles, rubbing the lotion in like he is your personal masseuse. The light sensation of his nails tickling your back feels heavenly as you feel yourself beginning to unwind. The beach around you disappears as your eyes flutter shut. Asmo's soft humming and softer touches becomes all you know as your shoulder begins to slump in relaxation.

"Does it feel good?" he giggles, shaking you a bit to keep you awake. "Don't fall asleep on me yet; I know you would hate to miss out on all the fun."

"Can't. Move." you murmur weakly, "too comfy."

Asmo's gentle movements stop abruptly "Oh my, we can't have that." he sighs and gets to his feet. Although he and his brothers are enjoying this little getaway, the main reason why everyone got to go in the first place is so that you can enjoy the sunlight in the human world. If you end up falling asleep in the shade, he knows you'll be disappointed. "I may not want to get my hair wet, but I'd hate for you to miss out on the fun. What would you like to do?"

You pry your eyes open and turn to face him with a victorious grin. "Walk along the beach with me? We could find some pretty rocks and make jewelry?"

"Oh what a perfect date idea." he gushes, placing his hands on his cheeks. "You are just the cutest Mc."

His eager excitement brings a smile to your face as you get to your feet. But before you leave your little beach stall, the demon's laughter stops you in your tracks. 

"Oh Mc, it looks like you missed a spot," he tsks a manicured hand coming to cup your face as he smooths out a crease from the lotion on your cheek. He stares at your face as if it were a piece of art on display. His thumb brushes your lip as his voice drops to a whisper. "There now, you're perfect."

[kuruk]

do tumblrinas and twitter lgbts forget what the real world is like actually. I guess because all topics have already been covered and it's assumed we're all on the same page about other realer issues but the bi girls with boyfriends topic is so overblown it's more people complaining about people being bitches towards bi women dating men than people actually being rude about those women.. I've seen like 20 different unspecific posts about it already just the vague idea of these bitchy as fuck lesbians getting passed around after a handful of people expressed bad opinions a few times. I'm not sure if people realize how their biases show through that because if they're aiming to fight against a certain perceived prejudice it means they're automatically just in doing so. but it's not a real widespread issue and even if it was it's still more of a matter of hurt feelings and insecurity than genuine hatred and bigotry that would affect anyone in the real world any further than feeling bad about yourself after reading a rude post. which yes it's rude of course but what is all of this for what is the obsession? it's insulting sorry it's rude to automatically do this every pride it's overcorrecting for an issue with a minority of lesbians.

when I got my first boyfriend after my parents previously thought I was a lesbian for years I was suddenly treated much better and during that period my dad stopped beating me because he saw more hope for my future. and yeah of course he didn't see me as bisexual because he didn't believe in that but I was treated better than I had been before because I now had a boyfriend and had more worth and was deserving of my place in society. so I don't know it feels so tone deaf for this to be the one big issue getting talked about every fucking year like as if bisexual women's greatest enemies are online lesbians you think are bitchy, when I'm sure that's not at all their biggest problem or even an issue that makes the list at all. like either you're just talking to talk and you wanna make a rebloggable post or you're trying to alleviate your own insecurities and guilt by claiming there's this overwhelming hatred for you and your boyfriend coming from dykes that just isn't there. and if that prejudice is there on such a scale then this is still a very uncompassionate and misguided reaction lacking empathy that doesn't make sense coming from people who sling words like dykefag around like it's nothing

[pascaloverx]

BORN TO DIE

Summary: In a tense political setting, a Targaryen bastard working as a prostitute is summoned by Prince Aemond to the Red Keep. Aemond wants her to approach his dragon, Vhagar, as a test of her worth. Although he plans for her to claim another dragon in the future, her immediate challenge is to survive Prince Aemond demands while trying to stay alive.

Author’s Note: This work is set in the world created by George R.R. Martin, as depicted in his book Fire & Blood, and none of the characters belong to me. The story will follow some events from the series House of the Dragon (2022), but with changes to fit the fanfiction narrative. Therefore, it will not adhere strictly to the series' storyline. This fanfiction is a work of fiction and may contain inappropriate language, adult content, and violence. Readers be warned. I hope you enjoy the story and interact with it. I apologize if there are any errors in the High Valyrian sections; I used a translator and am unsure of its accuracy. Thank you and happy reading.

Warning: This chapter will contain violence, as well as inappropriate language and adult sexual content. Minors should not read or interact with this chapter or this fanfic.

TWO

THREE (+18)

The horse continues its steady trot, the rhythmic sound of hooves filling the silence between you and Prince Aemond. Since you had declared that only he or a dragon could take your life, neither of you had spoken. The images of the ragged commoners still haunt your mind, the blood of one of them staining your skin. The scent lingers, almost as though it corrodes your very soul—if there is any soul left to corrode. Aemond, in contrast, remains unnervingly calm, as if such violence is second nature to him.

"When I was younger, my mother taught me to always adapt. Kings and princes like you were not born to be contradicted by people like me. My mother was a woman who adapted well, and that is how I was conceived. The man who fathered me sought a replacement for his dead wife, and my mother shaped herself to meet his desires." You can sense that your words mean little to Aemond Targaryen, yet for a fleeting moment, you feel compelled to share them. Perhaps it is the honesty, or perhaps the looming realization that this might be your final journey—the last stretch before the war claims you. It has never been clearer that your end is near, whether by the hand of a one-eyed prince or the flames of a dragon. The manner of death is inconsequential now; it is merely a matter of time.

"My silence must have been misunderstood by you, gundjabo. I have no need to hear your lamentations." The prince’s low voice carries a hint of irritation as he lets out a frustrated grunt. You exhale sharply, frustration building within you. There is something dreadful about being condemned to a war that is not your own, dragged along by a man indifferent to your very existence—one who does not even deign to bed you.

"Unless you plan to kill me for speaking, I shall continue. These may very well be my final words, for all I know," you say, your tone steady but defiant. "As I was saying, I always knew my fate would lead me to the brothel, as a whore. But when the man who fathered me came to weep over his legitimate children, I discovered I was a bastard of someone of importance. And that I had a sibling who bore a resemblance to me. That is why I speak High Valyrian, for I was meant to be the perfect replacement for someone’s trueborn daughter. Tell me, Your Highness, how did you know I was a bastard?"

Your boldness stems from a desire to have your story heard, to have someone in this world know the truth of your existence. And you are certain Aemond will not kill you—not before delivering you to the dragon.

"What gave you the notion that I would be inclined to engage in conversation with you? Know your place, Y/N," Aemond snaps, turning toward you with a sudden, fierce movement, as if poised to strike. His single eye fixes on you, sharp and unwavering, and there’s a dark satisfaction in the way he watches your reaction. He seems to revel in the way his abruptness unsettles you, savoring the fear or hesitation he provokes.

"What led you to believe that I would be disposed to engage in conversation with you? Understand your position, Y/N." Príncipe Aemond pivots abruptly to face you, his single eye piercingly fixed upon your countenance. His demeanor is one of restrained menace, and he appears to take a grim satisfaction in the disquiet he has stirred within you.

The horse comes to an abrupt halt, causing your body to jostle against Prince Aemond Targaryen, who seems increasingly agitated. He dismounts with a brisk movement, signaling the end of your journey by horse. Before you lies a solitary figure, stationed by a boat, standing guard with an air of grim duty.

"My esteemed Prince Aemond, I present to you what you have requested. Should you follow the prescribed route, you shall arrive at the location where it has been reported that your future dragon was sighted. I wish you a successful and prosperous journey." The peculiar man, clearly seeking to flatter the Prince, elicits a noticeable expression of disdain from him.

"Then your presence here is no longer required. I suggest you keep your lips sealed regarding my business here. Additionally, worm, should I fail to find the 'safe' path to the dragon, be aware that you will face a most unfavorable encounter with Vhagar." You are unable to observe their exchange directly, as you are preoccupied with dismounting the horse, given that Aemond appears to be indifferent to your presence at the moment.

"My prince, I would never lead you into an ambush. I wish you a successful journey and hope you acquire the dragon," you finally manage to dismount from the horse, nearly falling onto the ground. The peculiar man watches you with a smile, seemingly amused by your misfortune, while Aemond, though visibly irritated, remains unyielding. His irritation persists even in moments when you are not actively provoking him.

"Rise from the ground at once, gundjabo. If this is your feeble attempt to gain my pity, you are failing. And as for you, Larys, you should have already removed yourself from my sight. Of course, if you hold no regard for your life, you are welcome to remain." Prince Aemond's voice was laced with irritation, the impatience in his tone unmistakable. The peculiar man, now silent, awkwardly retrieves the horse you both arrived on and departs clumsily, leaving you and the prince alone once more.

Yet you remain on the ground, lost in contemplation of your wretched circumstances, bound to the will of Prince Aemond. Your gaze drifts away from him, drawn instead to the waters that flank the path to Dragonstone. The sight of the water, so free and fluid, captivates you. It seems to beckon, offering a silent sanctuary, a world away from your current plight. It had been so long since you had been near the water, and now it appeared almost sacred, a reminder of peace in a life devoid of it. Though you hear Prince Aemond’s voice, it feels distant, as if muffled by the pull of the serene waters. In this brief moment, it is as though you and the water are the only things that exist. You rise, however; not to obey any command but to delight in the water. Slowly, you begin to strip away your clothing, letting the fabric fall carelessly to the ground as the cool wind brushes against your bare skin. A deep sense of freedom, unfamiliar and intoxicating, washes over you. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, you taste the sweetness of liberation, a brief escape from the chains of your fate.

It does not matter that Prince Aemond will see you in such a vulnerable state, nor does it concern you that his inevitable anger will rise once more. His threats of death hold no sway over you in this moment. As the last of your garments slips from your body, you stand, unburdened and untamed, indifferent to the consequences. For now, you are part of the wind, the water, the air—untouchable by any prince or king.

"What do you think you are doing? I did not bring you here to gaze upon your nakedness, nor for any such entanglements," Prince Aemond snaps, his voice sharp as steel, while his hand grips your arm, halting your movement toward the water. His touch, firm yet restrained, feels different for the first time—no longer cold or harsh, but strangely… grounding. Though his grasp is strong, it does not hurt you. You turn your gaze to him, your lips curling into a relaxed, almost defiant smile. The tension between you, once a barrier, now seems to shift subtly, as though something unspoken lingers between the two of you.

"It seems, Your Highness, that you are under the mistaken impression that I have any interest in such entanglements with you," you say, your voice soft yet pointed, as you step closer to him. "If it appears otherwise, you are gravely mistaken. You have made it abundantly clear that you are here as my possessor, not my lover. But the blood on my skin reeks of decay, and if I am to face a fatal destiny by your hand or another, at the very least, grant me the decency of being cleansed for it. I do not believe I am asking for much." Though your tone is measured, almost submissive, your gaze remains sharp, as if daring him to challenge your words. Yet beneath that facade of defiance, there is a clear falsehood—you wouldn't mind if he took you here, on the cold, unforgiving ground. The threatening look in your eyes, too, is a lie; in truth, at this moment, you pose as much danger to the prince as a child would. You know this, and so does he.

"Ao kostagon jikagon, gundjabo," Prince Aemond finally responds, his voice carrying an edge of authority. As he speaks, you offer him a faint, resigned smile. Without another word, you run toward the water. The cold is biting, eliciting a drawn-out gasp as you immerse yourself, but as you cleanse your body with the water, you feel the burdens you have been carrying begin to lift. When you look at Prince Aemond, he is naked; coming towards you. For a moment you can't believe what you're about to witness. Or rather do.

"Your excitement at my presence here is a disgrace to yourself. I have no intention of expanding the bonds of our relationship, gundjabo." Prince Aemond speaks as he steps closer and closer. He certainly wants to dispel any lust that is taking hold of you.

"Tell me, Your Highness, are you so afraid of fucking me?" In moments of the prince's presence, the cold that was taking over your body turned into heat; burning deep within your soul. The prince smiles mischievously as if he liked her question; even if in a diaceous way. Your gaze then shifts to Prince Aemond's member, which appears to be quite erect for a cock that isn't considering entering you.

"If you must know, there has been no fear under me for some time. What I have, is caution. You think I don't notice that your desire for me lies in the need to manipulate me," Aemond approaches you quickly, his hand then roaming over your face, almost as if he was scrutinizing you. "A whore like you must be as thirsty as any other to have the privilege of being taken by me," Prince Aemond stands directly behind you, his cock lightly touching your ass. As his hand moves from a light, affectionate touch to your face and moves downwards, touching your neck with a certain dexterity, in a firm way.

"Dear prince, my intentions towards you are the most pleasurable possible. What risk can a mere prostitute bring you?" What you say comes out of your mouth like a whisper, as half of your concentration has already been lost. Instinctively you turn around, still feeling Aemond's hand on your neck. A drawn-out moan is released by Prince Aemond, who holds your breasts tightly with both hands.

"Say, gundjabo, would you like me to take you here, in the middle of the water? That I would use these hands to fuck you? To satisfy you?" As Prince Aemond aggressively touches your breasts, you let out somewhat scandalous moans. It looks like Aemond's hands are massaging your breasts in a teasing way.

"By your hands, Ñuha Dārilaros; I would accept any fate. Death or pleasure, whatever you decide; it will be to my advantage." You drawl, trying to seduce Aemond. Between your legs, if there was already water before; now everything was wet. Your pussy is ready to receive Prince Aemond's cock. And then abruptly, he grabs your ass firmly, pulling you towards him. Almost like climbing a mountain, you climb up Aemond, wrapping your legs around his waist. Once you secure yourself around Aemond, It's like your pussy is throbbing just from feeling his cock pressed lightly beneath it. In a desperate act, you pull Prince Aemond's face to yours, kissing him. A thirsty kiss, as if there was an uncontrollable thirst within you and only Aemond Targaryen's lips could quench it. At first he seems apprehensive, controlling his tongue so as not to lose his rational side even in a simple kiss, but as soon as you press a little on his cock, which is already hard, he gives himself over to the kiss; body and soul. The prince's long fingers firmly gripping the top of your ass, creating a pleasant friction between your body and his. And just as it seems like he's finally going to give himself to you, he pulls away from your lips and drops you into the water.

“Certain privileges must be earned before they are received so impulsively, gundjabo. Tame the dragon we are about to seek, prove yourself indispensable to your King, and you will gain some worth in my eyes. Until then, savor this moment. There may not be another opportunity for you to experience such freedom again in the future.” Prince Aemond speaks as he holds your face up after you finally manage to catch your breath from being thrown into the water. You are seething with anger inside—frustrated by the way the one-eyed prince has treated you, by the inability to grasp the full magnitude of his presence, and by your own intense yearning for him that has made you lose all sense of absurdity.

In silence, the prince exits the water, gathering his garments from the ground and donning them once more. You watch him attentively, struggling to suppress the anger that is consuming you. Fortunately, as the desire ebbs away, your good sense returns. With a sense of urgency, you leave the water and dress yourself. No words are exchanged between you and Prince Aemond during the journey to the boat, nor during the voyage to Dragonstone.

Certainly, you had to be discreet, feigning the role of commoners while you followed Prince Aemond to the location where he hoped to find his potential dragon. The journey took hours, leading you to a nearly forgotten place amidst a quiet fishing village. Against the prince's will but driven by strategy, you had to repeatedly obstruct the view of curious onlookers who tried to recognize Aemond. Through a bit of your own charm, you managed to divert their attention, effectively becoming his shield. In the tempestuous atmosphere, you finally come upon the dragon. It is enormous, with black scales that blend into the shadows. Its eyes are closed, indicating it is resting.

“Your Highness, I cannot... Find another bastard,” you say upon seeing the dragon so close. The fear of death outweighs any sense of duty at that moment. You step back, trying to distance yourself, but Prince Aemond grips your arm with a harshness. This time, he pulls you close with aggression.

"Swallow your cowardice, go over there, and claim that dragon. And if this seems like a request to you, know that it is an order, and should you disobey, you will die by my sword, gundjabo." Prince Aemond threatens, looking at you with impatience. His menacing tone frightens you somewhat, but as a final act of bravery, you grab the dagger from the Prince’s waist and point it at him.

"Your Highness, regrettably, I must clarify that I have no intention of obeying you. Let me go, and I assure you, you shall never hear of me again," you say, your voice trembling somewhat, though not from cowardice. The thought of death, at this moment, feels unsatisfactory to you.

"Go to that damned dragon and claim it for yourself, or you will die here. There is no other option, gundjabo. My patience is wearing thin, so drop this dagger and go now!" Prince Aemond bellows with all his might, his demeanor fierce and ready to strangle you if necessary. As you remain indecisive, contemplating your options, Prince Aemond suddenly throws himself at you, causing both of you to tumble to the ground. He grips your neck tightly, while you still hold the dagger against him, the weapon trembling in your hand.

"Your Highness, you are squeezing my neck...with a certain unnecessary firmness." You speak between attempts to catch your breath as the air escapes you. Aemond's blank stare tells you he might kill you. So while you still have strength, you hold the sharp dagger against the neck of Aemond Targaryen, who is lying on top of yours. He only seems to notice that he is hurting you more than necessary when you cut him, more specifically cut a small but significant part of his neck. And then his hands lose their grip on your neck and his attention seems to be elsewhere. It could be that the pain from the cut is bothering him, or the fact that he is bleeding and the blood is dripping down your face. The taste of Aemond's blood is surprisingly sweet, but you worry that you've seriously injured him.Then you drop the dagger you were holding and look worriedly at Prince Aemond. He removes his hands from your neck and slowly holds both of your hands at the height of your head.

“Do you feel powerful for having managed to make me bleed, gundjabo?” Prince Aemond’s words are laced with a cruel edge, as if your injury to him has only heightened his thrill. The dangerous proximity of your faces is palpable. However, before you can respond, the dragon stirs and awakens. You both quickly disentangle as you hear the dragon's roar, followed by a burst of fire that sends a shiver down your spine. It may seem like madness, but you could swear the fire that it spewed was green, an unusual color for dragon flames. The dragon's eyes are also green. It appears to be the most magnificent dragon you have ever seen.

"What should I do, Your Highness?" you ask desperately as you feel the hot breath of the dragon's nostrils blowing over you and Aemond. You recall the commands for summoning dragons that your father taught you, but without knowing the dragon's name, it will be impossible to call it.

"Command him, tell him to calm down; if he obeys you, he will be your dragon. His name is Cannibal. I suggest you act quickly before he kills us, gundjabo," Prince Aemond commands authoritatively as he gives you instructions. After a moment of effort, you take a few steps forward, under the watchful gaze of the dragon.

“Naejot Māzīs, Canibal,” you say, approaching the dragon as you notice your hands stained with Prince Aemond’s blood. Despite the bloodied state, you persist in your attempt to claim the dragon. “Lykiri, Canibal. Nyke daor dangerous. Sȳz taoba.” You raise your blood-stained hand towards the dragon, which responds with another roar. Despite the force of the roar nearly causing you to fall, you stand firm, determined to show the dragon that it will have a fearless—if not reckless—rider. The dragon spreads its wings and positions itself in front of you, undecided on whether to accept or attack. It then unleashes a powerful flame into the sky.

You close your eyes tightly, resigned to your fate, but also emboldened by the attempt to claim a dragon, an unprecedented advance from your life as a bastard prostitute. As you brace for the dragon’s attack, it approaches, waiting. You glance back at Prince Aemond, who stands behind you, observing. He gestures for you to place your hand on the dragon. With a deep breath, you gently and slowly reach out to touch the dragon’s face.

As soon as your hand makes contact, a powerful surge of energy envelops you. Your eyes shut again to fully experience the bond forming between you and Cannibal. Though it feels like mere seconds, you sense that more time has passed. Prince Aemond’s voice reaches you through the haze, calling you several times. When you finally open your eyes, both yours and the dragon’s meet in unison. Turning slowly, you face Prince Aemond, who appears astonished. You and Cannibal now stand united, as one.

"Congratulations, gundjabo. You have just bestowed a significant advantage upon your King in this war," Prince Aemond declares, his expression betraying genuine satisfaction. Yet, there is no joy within you. The gravity of your new reality is apparent: you are now irrevocably entangled in a conflict that, though not of your own making, could very well claim your life. Moreover, your evident lack of experience with dragons only compounds the danger you face. Officially, your existence has been altered beyond recognition.

TO BE CONTINUED

GLOSSARY

Ao kostagon jikagon - You can go

Gundjabo - Prostitute

Ñuha Dārilaros - My Prince

Naejot Māzīs - Come Forward

Lyriri - Calm down

Nyke - I

Daor - Not

Sȳz - Good

Taoba - Boy

[payasita]

Speaking of fic stuff: The Lamb and Nari wake up one morning covered in bandages, surrounded by empty bottles. They have ZERO recollection of the night before. Now what?

He awakes to a taste like bile and rust, and with one hand wrapped in at least twenty layers of gauze.

Narinder takes a second to stare at it, wiggling immobile fingers and contemplating the mechanics of sitting up with a head somehow filled with both cotton and lead. He drops the hand and decides against it, rolling over and pulling a blanket over his head. The movement does absolutely heinous things to his stomach.

A slow minute passes before he realizes he is not under a blanket at all. It's comfortable regardless, so he cannot summon the effort to care. Far softer than anything yet available in the commune. The familiar scent doesn't hurt, warm and securely claimed with his own, and indeed does a good job in blocking out the currently unmanageable stench of the outside world.

Until it's nearly pulled away from him. He clutches onto it with a hiss, and instantly regrets moving so quickly.

"Oh good, you're alive." The Lamb gives it another tug. "Give me back my fleece."

Narinder vaguely remembers having lost a battle against them while at his full divine potential. He'd even had both hands available to him and everything. He cannot truly imagine the odds are with him now.

"Thank you," they huff when he unlatches his claws. He searches for something else to cover his face while they clothe themself. His skull appears to be imploding.

"I am dying," he declares. There's a few seconds of silence. Contemplation on the Lamb's end. Abject suffering on Narinder's.

"Nope. Not sensing it."

"Your competence with the Crown is dubious at best."

"You're not dying," they assure him, lightheartedly, "It just feels like it."

He groans, rolling over and hitting himself in the face with the large gauze lump in his attempt to throw his arm over his eyes. He snarls, and begins blindly picking at it with his free claw to find the edge.

The Lamb snorts, leaning over him. They have an armful of empty bottles under an arm, and are looking infuriatingly chipper.

"How'd you go and do that to yourself?"

He glares at them, pointedly.

"I clearly cannot have done this on my own."

"What, you don't remember?"

"...No," he admits. "What happened, then?"

"Oh, hell if I know," the Lamb laughs, and is saved from having that smile shorn off their face by his vertigo alone.

They move around him and pick up another bottle, inspecting it. "I was at the same feast you were, y'know. And if you'd had all this yourself, you probably would be dead," they gesture to the bundle under their arm, already five or six strong and slipping a bit.

"... Actually, we should probably both still be dead," they tut. "I don't even know what the flock puts in this stuff, 'sides from berries. But wow, they're good at it. Hey, actually, do you think maybe we have the makings of something worth exporting to the outside world? Plimbo's always making trips back and forth to who-knows-where, I bet we could--"

"Lamb."

"Mm?"

"Your chattering is causing me physical pain."

"Oop. ...Guess I should be grateful for the divine healing factor, huh?"

Narinder ponders the irony of wishing Death incarnate to choke, and finally finishes unraveling his hand. He squints at it. He sees no damage whatsoever that might have compelled anyone to waste medical resources on him. Not a strand out of place. He inspects his claws, and finds a bit of blood under them. Odd.

"There must be, like, a dozen bottles of wine in here. Do you think I drank most of it? I remember everyone in the temple cheering when I started chugging one. ...Or, uh. Three," the Lamb recounts, setting the pile down on a nearby table. Narinder watches them, scanning down their body for any abnormalities. No claw marks or stab wounds remain, but they would be gone by now. Still. The fact that he feels metal when he pushes his hand under his pillow is probably worth noting.

"You have a basket around here?" the Lamb asks after a point, "I need somewhere to put these."

Narinder says, "I do not live here."

"...Whuh?"

"This is not my hut."

The Lamb pauses. They glance around, newly curious. Narinder grasps at the bit of metal under his pillow, and retrieves a dagger. It is smeared with blood. He eyes it, vaguely toying with the way light plays off of the dull blade.

"Did I attempt to kill you last night?" he asks idly. The Lamb looks over. They see the knife.

"...Nnnno?" They try, not even attempting to sound certain.

"I believe," Narinder mutters, hardly feeling bothered to spare the focus, "I might have killed someone."

The Lamb looks at him, having the grace to at least look troubled. Narinder, on the other hand, remains far more concerned with the roiling in his stomach.

"... Okay, wait. Wait, I think I remember-- yeah," the Lamb snaps, and points at him. "Yeah! You lost your hand privileges."

"What," Narinder says.

"Yeah! You were doing-- something," the Lamb waves off vaguely, "Yeah, I think I remember-- I had to take the claws away? I mean. That would explain the bandages?"

Narinder glances over. It certainly sounds like the sort of logic they would act upon, in the event of his own uninhibited violence.

"...So I did try and kill you, again."

"Iiii, dunno? I mean. Maybe?" Again, they don't sound remotely sure. The "divine healing factor" does not, it appears, account for episodes of alcoholic blackout. Good to know.

So, trying to kill his spouse was one possible explanation. Admittedly, it wasn't even a far-fetched one. But the ambient stench of this hut offers another.

"Lamb," Narinder sits up, winning a valiant battle with his own vertigo, "Whose shelter is this?"

The Lamb pauses. They look around again at all the bottles strewn about. They look up. At the same time they do, a droplet of blood plops onto their cheek.

"...I think his name was Bremar," the Lamb hums.

"You think?"

"I mean, the Crown can only tell me so much. 'Specially when the corpse in question has somehow been reduced to... uh... streamers."

"Ah."

"So, uh, we should--- we should go."

Narinder growls. His stomach does not agree with the prospect of standing up anytime soon.

"Ten more minutes."

"Nari," the Lamb deadpans, "You eviscerated a guy."

"...Five, then."

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Just want to say: a, I admire very much that you've figured out a healthy way to work on your fics that allows you to have fun with it. And also b, am very excited to hear that you are getting there with pez! It has fully given me brain rot ever since I read it last year, there is just such a lack of content for the highly specific trope of using time travel as a device to explore extremely unhealthy levels of self loathing.

I just adore everything you're doing in it. Neither midoriya is anywhere approaching okay for any portion of the fic and I love rereading and mining into all the subtle characterization pointing to that. It's a bit like nhtycth in that some really goofy funny stuff is often hiding some really fucking worrying things, but the fact that characters DO do that stuff—that todoroki uses his teaspoon's worth of extremely stunted social skills to bludgeon his friend's door open and help him, that a rpf shipping war is an actual source of drama despite how goofy the sentiment seems on the surface, that about half of what jon says is deeply worrying and the other half is extremely funny and there's a lot of overlap between the two—really lifts the tension and brightens the universe. It's sort of similar to what you did with gerry, in that endless misery isn't nearly as painful as the ups and downs of a life that, when you step back and zoom out, has something deeply and horribly wrong with it.

(jon sort of reminds me of spider-man in that he uses human to deal with trauma and stress, except I don't think he at any point realizes how fucking funny he is. He's just there, in a home depot, gnashing his teeth because he's got so many bodies to dispose of and this cashier sure is taking her time.)

I really, really, really have had trouble finding fics that take everything midoriya has dealt with to task. It's a hell of a thing to live 14 years as a disabled minority, have it heavily shape your existence, and then one day you wake up and you realize you're...not that, or at least, nobody will ever acknowledge you as that again. You've lost all claim to it. Those experiences that shaped who you are? Dust in the wind. 14 years of pain and life might as well be buried in the ground for all the good they do you. Nobody's going to cut you any slack or quarter, you've gotta simply work harder, be better. And now when you do that you get the results you wanted, so that's fine, then. That's good. There was something wrong with the you before, and there's something right with the you now, and if the transition is a little rough, well that doesn't matter, you're the same as everyone else now, so it's your own job to fill in whatever gaps you need to.

I really can't get over how mentally fucked it must be for midoriya to run into quirkless people, run across quirkless issues, and be silently caught between, incapable of speaking his mind and too scared to do so anyway around those he can trust.

Also I should mention, I'm just very excited for bakugou to get back from the gym. He's been there like a year I hope he's getting a good workout in.

Me realizing that it’s been a year since pez dispenser debris:

I feel like there’s just this very specific type of grief that Izuku has to grapple with in the span of pez dispenser debris that I’m just obsessed with. He’s sort of silently mourning who he could have been, when 1) he has to present like there’s nothing lost to maintain his secret and 2) the entire world is constantly inundating him with the message that there was nothing lost.

Like. I don’t want to get too deep into it because it risks spoiling things and I do have major plans to continue it (I’ve loved this story for so many years before I ever even hit publish), but the emotion that Izuku’s feeling right now is so much more complex than “I hate who I used to be and want him to stop existing” or “I just want to keep my secrets.” And I think the way he interacts with Mirio is the biggest evidence of that.

Izuku’s placed himself at the very center of the Quirklessness debate with his support of Mirio. He fights for Quirkless heroes, very publicly, to the point where he’s not even graduated yet but considered to be one of the most prominent voices on the matter. If you took a poll of Quirkless people as to which hero would be most supportive of them pursing their own career in heroics, Izuku would be right at the top of the list. When it comes to Quirklessness itself, he’s nothing but supportive.

But he didn’t tell Mirio the truth of his own Quirklessness.

Out of everyone, Mirio’s the one everyone expects to know, despite him being a relatively newer relationship compared to someone like Iida or Uraraka or Todoroki. And I tried to imply that he’s sort of the one who knows the most about Izuku out of everyone save All Might.

Like, we’ll get into how much exactly Mirio knows soon, so I won’t divulge what, if anything, Izuku has told him. But we know that Mirio knows, weirdly enough, that Izuku is deeply fucking haunted. He knows that boy has many violent ghosts in his bones. He finds it hilarious and will tell their realtor about it. Izuku told him about the discontent spirits who died in a violent passion and live on inside of him before he told him about his Quirklessness.

And I just feel like one of those things is a little bit easier to discuss than the other.

Izuku has decided to keep his own Quirklessness quiet in a way that surpasses secrecy about One for All. If it was just about OfA, he could tell people he didn’t get his quirk until the entrance exam, and it wouldn’t even be a lie. He’s purposefully obscuring his own past as Quirkless even as he takes a forefront of the Quirkless hero debate with his open support of Mirio.

And the fact that he’s at the forefront of this debate in and of itself requires a difficult dichotomy. He is the world’s most vocal proponent for the first Quirkless hero. He is a known figure in the Quirkless community now.

He isn’t considered one of them anymore. He’s an outsider coming in.

It must be such a strange, odd sort of grief to come to the people you were home amongst for most of your life and be greeted as a stranger. To return home, and to be welcomed in for the first time, and to not even be able to tell people that you’ve lived here all your life and don’t need a tour.

It’s a sort of death of self, I think. And I think Izuku never expected to have to grapple with his own ghost.

[olderthannetfic]

I'm a known writer for my fandom. It's a very small fandom, so it doesn't really mean anything, but I got there early and built a nice little following.

I don't know what happened in the past few weeks, but I suddenly started getting a bunch of anon asks in my inbox demanding I express myself on the "issue" that is the current Palestinian situation. I've been ignoring them, blocking the anons, but they just kept fucking coming.

Under my last fic, I got a couple of guest comments accusing me of being antisemitic and a couple of guest comments accusing me of being an islamophobic colonizer. Under the same story!! How???

I had to disallow guest comments and anons, so now I keep receiving insults and demands that I express my opinion through sock puppet accounts. I don't know how many fucking times I've been so far labelled as a Zionist and an antisemite, and the last asks I've received got really over the top and violent, claiming that I'm the reason why Palestinian children are dying and I'm a privileged white woman (I'm not white and emigrated from a third world country, but ok) and I'm contributing to genocide.

And I'm so fucking tired of this internet activism! So, so fucking tired!

Because the reason why I engage with fandom is to take a step away from reality. I watch the fucking news, I spend my due time informing myself about global issues on the internet, I do discuss this shit with my IRL friends and colleagues and family members, I go to protests, and during the BLM protests I was out there helping with water and first aid.

But fandom is fucking me time. It's the time of my day when I unplug my brain and write whatever the fuck I want, reblog gif sets on Tumblr, and watch thirst traps on TikTok. I don't log into Tumblr, the site that cunts use to spread misinformation and fake Go Fund Me's and people who pretend to have written My Immortal to promote their shitty memoir, to receive or do any kind of information.

Stop looking for influencers and random people on the internet to explain to you global issues! Why the fuck are you people so into your own asses that you can't fucking understand the reason why some kid who got famous for dancing while wearing cat ears doesn't want to talk about their opinion about far more serious matters?

Everything has a place and a time, and some people realize that their audience goes to them to detach from reality, rather than being reminded of it.

"Oh, but if you don't talk about it, it means you're supporting the bad guys!" Sure! Because the fucking apartheid is build specifically on me not wanting to use my fandom blog to post pictures of dead children and raped women! Too bad that Nelson Mandela became an activist before the internet, uh? He could've solved a bunch of issues by posting a couple of Insta stories!

"Oh, you don't realize how privileged you are to be able to ignore the issue!" I'm not fucking ignoring it, I'm ignoring it in places where my opinion matters less than zero! And yes, I'm fully aware that I'm privileged to be able to ignore it, but you're disgusting because you're using it as a way to build a following on a blogging platform. Hope that posting pictures of slaughtered human bodies was really worth the 50 followers it got you, Allison!

I don't know if this makes sense. Whatever. I'm fucking pissed.

--

Sounds like a bunch of clowns in a discord somewhere decided to target you or something.

[minetteskvareninova]

I finally realized why it always rubs me the wrong way when people compare Alicent to Hürrem: despite multiple genuine similarities between the two, people often use it to imply things about Alicent (and Rhaenyra) that are just plain untrue. Notably, Hürrem has legitimate reasons to worry about her sons' lives, while Alicent... Just doesn't. I am sorry, she really fucking doesn't.

First off, let's make something very clear - recent history of their worlds is very much on Hürrem's side, while with Alicent, it's a lot less clear. Notably, while the oldest members of the Ottoman dynasty, when the empire was just really just a small emirate in Anatolia, were able to peacefully coexist with their brothers and other male relatives that could challenge their power, as the empire grew, so did the propensity of potential candidates for the throne to fight over it. By the time Süleyman I. became the sultan, fratricide was very much an established practice. Ottoman succession laws were rather murky, and at the time the show takes place, the good old "to the strongest" principle was in place when it comes to deciding which prince was to become the next ruler. There was some sense that the oldest has more right to the throne than his brothers - hence Mustafa being considered the strongest candidate, along with his general popularity among the janissaries - but Selim I. did win the throne from his older brother, so it was hardly set in stone.

Then there's Westeros, which is a lot more complicated. Sure, you did have Maegor I. usurping and murdering two of his nephews, where the third was only saved by going into hiding, but notably that was only after the oldest one rose in open rebellion towards him. Now, Aegon the Uncrowned wasn't really in the wrong there, considering Maegor had at that point already burned the Starry Sept and generally showed himself to be the absolute worst. Aegon was fully within his rights to be worried about the fate of himself, his own family and the whole country. But it's worth noting, because even the most tyrannical king Westeros had up to that point didn't just shank his nephews completely unprovoked (as was at the time the show was set already an established practice for the Ottomans). Hell, Maegor previously fully supported the reign of his older brother, apparently for no other reason than because of affection between them. Even after they had a falling out because of Maegor's bigamy, Maegor went into exile rather than directly challenge his brother's rule.

Then we have Viserys I., whose claim was also contentious, but after it was cemented trough legalistic means, noone ever went directly against him. It's worth noting that Rhaenyra's claim too was established trough legalistic means (her father's decree) and just like Viserys' claim, it also went against the common practice of Westerosi succession. Admittedly, Rhaenyra's claim was much less stable, mostly because of her gender, but still. In addition, there is absolutely no indication that Rhaenyra would ever go the Maegor route if her throne wasn't usurped; admittedly, she would've kept a close watch on her brothers (and they might be in danger if there is ever an unrelated crisis during Rhaenyra's death - possibly, maybe), but that's far from the "certain death" scenario Alicent presents to Aegon the Trashy. And considering the alternative is a civil war, which also endangers the lives of her children... Yeah, keeping your head down and trying to appear as faithful as possible to Rhaenyra suddenly seems like a pretty viable option, doesn't it?

But that would mean Alicent has to firmly go against her manipulative father and place her trust in Rhaenyra just after she lied to her about *gasp* having premarital sex, and she just isn't emotionally ready for that.

Look, I am not saying Alicent doesn't have good character-driven reasons to be horribly, horribly wrong. But she is. By God is she wrong. Superficially, hers and Hürrem's situation are similar. But one of them is probably right, while the other is just wrong. And that makes all the difference.

[justcallmefox89]

Submission: Chapter Five - Deference

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

Drakul encounters Minthara.

“A True Soul?  Do not think this means we are equals, jaluk.  Are you here to join my hunt?”

I blink, genuinely startled to find another drow here amongst the goblins.  The absentee matron of House Baenre no less.

How did she get here?  Why is she here?  Has she abandoned Lolth?

Her thoughts collide with mine, cold fingers sifting through my thoughts and sending a drop of sweat slithering down my spine.  Everything else melts away until all that is left is a dark, endless void – and in it I see my fellow drow in conversation with a pale young woman.  The same woman in the vision we received before the inhabitant of the artifact shielded us.  One of the Chosen of the Absolute.  The vision fades away, leaving Minthara staring at me impatiently. 

Centuries of training take over and I dip into a low bow, averting my eyes in a show of deference.  “I am yours to command, Ilharess Minthara.”

Gale, Shadowheart, and Astarion shift uncomfortably behind me while Minthara lets out a pleased hum. 

“Then hunt with me.  In Her name,” she commands. 

“Your will is my own,” I murmur.  “Who is our prey, Ilharess?”

“Drakul,” Gale hisses in a desperate attempt to get my attention.

A dull thud and a muffled ouch lets me know that one of our other companions has discretely kicked the wizard in an effort to shut him up.

“Worshippers of a false god,” Minthara sneers.  "Their existence is an insult to the Absolute’s claim on this region.  There is a weapon the Absolute seeks.  I’m sure those wretches have it hidden away there.  We will find it amongst the dead and the ashes.”

A faint tingle in the back of my skull makes me shudder… surely the prism isn’t the weapon the matron is seeking?  To be safe I decide to hold my tongue and keep the artefact’s existence to myself.  For now. 

The worshippers she speaks of are surely the druids of Emerald Grove.  Her excitement is tangible, and her thoughts of victory, of unbelievers’ blood spilled, ignites my own bloodlust.  The anticipation of the hunt thrums through me, the chance to please the Matron of House Baenre… to prove my worth as a male to one of my betters sends a thrill of delight through me.  What are the lives of a handful of druids in the face of the pleasure of an Ilharess?

Nothing.  I am the will and the sword of those Lolth has deemed superior.  When they command, I shall obey.

A brief chill settles over my body, soothing the numerous aches and pains I’d accumulated on my journey thus far, and infusing my limbs with renewed strength.  It is a comfort to know that Lolth’s blessings can still reach me even in this accursed surface world. 

“The thief whimpering in our dungeon tried to flee to their sanctuary,” Minthara continues.  “We will continue to remove parts of him until he tells us exactly where it is.  He’s been resilient, but he will talk.”

“The prisoner is of no consequence,” I inform her.  “I know the location that you seek.  They have welcomed me as a ally.”

“Drakul,” Shadowheart whispers hesitantly. 

Minthara’s eyes light up.  “Perfect,” she purrs.  “If the inhabitants do not realize you are the knife at their throats, we can use that against them.  Return to their refuge and make your way inside.  As a friend.”

I nod once in understanding.

“I will gather a raiding party and move into position.  You will open the gates from the inside when the time is right to strike.  We will cleanse the place of infidels and burn it to the ground in the Absolute’s name.  And then we shall be the first among her favorites.” 

I shall always remain loyal to you, my Spider Queen.  I will not be led astray; I will endeavor to bring this lost child back into your arms.

Another soothing wash of comfort flows over me, and I know Lolth has heard my silent prayer.

“I shall be your right hand and your blade,” I respond, bowing low.

“Good.  Marshalling the goblins is no simple matter, but my warband will be ready to attack by next light.  Make your way inside.  Once I am in position, on your signal, we break them.  And when they are dead, the Absolute will reward your faith.  As will I.  Now go.”  Minthara waves her hand in dismissal.

“As you command.”  I bow one last time before turning and leading my companions away. 

Our group remains silent until we have exited Selune’s temple and are a considerable distance from the goblin camp.  Gale breaks the silence first.

“What have you done?” he demands, scowling up at me.

 I blink at him, confused.

Realizing I have no idea what he’s referring to Gale groans and scrubs his hands over his face.  “Oh gods…”

Astarion looks up from examining his nails.  “I think the wizard is upset that you’ve agreed to exterminate the Emerald Grove, darling.”

“Oh.”  I squint at Gale.  “And we care if they die…?”

“Well…”  Shadowheart waves her hands side to side. 

Gale glares at her from the corner of his eye.  “Yes.  Yes, we do,” he says firmly.

“The druids are a bunch of arseholes though,” I pout.  “Are you sure we can’t kill them?”

“Yes, I’m sure!”

I shrug.  I’ve already sworn my oath to a matron; I will carry out her will no matter the wizard’s objections.  And if he stands in my way I will eliminate him too.

“Did you forget the tieflings are there as well?” Gale presses on.

I shrug again.  “I don’t care for them either so….”

“Rolan is there.”

“Oh.”  I blink as that particular realization settles over me.

Yes, it would ruin several of my plans if that saucy little tiefling were to die before I’ve tasted him again.  Thoroughly.  Many, many more times.

“Godsdamn it!”  I break into a sprint, leaving my companions far behind.  Their shouts reach my ears, but I ignore them, intent on reaching the Emerald Grove as quickly as I can.  The only thing that matters now is ensuring Rolan’s safety.