#( i'll get to replies after i get caught up with functions ! )

[zorrasucia]

❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜ carmy berzatto pls

Hi Anon! ✨

Of course! This is some established relationship naughtiness at The Bear. I hope you enjoy it! 💜

It was one of the first days of fall, and probably one of the last warm days of the year. And so, you were enjoying the weather: wearing your favorite dress and cleaning your apartment with the window open to let the soft breeze in. Your phone rang, the name on the screen read Sydney 🐻.

"Hi, Syd," you greeted her with a smile.

"Hey, uh," she hesitated, the sound of a hectic kitchen in the background. "Remember you told me I could call you when Carmy was being a pain in the ass? I know it was a joke and, you know, I'm not his babysitter and you're not either. Like, I know that. But, uh-" she had a nervous tone in her voice.

"Syd, it's okay," you reassured her. "It's Saturday, I bet things are insane in the kitchen."

"You have no idea," she let out a nervous chuckle. "I seriously wouldn't even be calling if I-"

Syd was right, that you weren't Carmy's babysitter but you could probably talk some sense into him. Besides, you didn't have work today - and they'd probably give you leftovers for your troubles.

"Hey. I'm on my way," you said. "Don't worry."

"Okay, okay," Syd sighed. "I'll, uh, I'll try to chill in the meantime."

You grabbed your keys and bag... You suddenly had a sinful idea and grinned.

~

You walked through the back door, avoiding servers and chefs, mumbling 'behind' every so often like you'd seen the rest of them do. You could make out Carmy's hoarse voice between all the noise.

"This steak is fucking dead! Refire. Chefs, wake the fuck up!"

"Hey, Carm," you called him.

He turned to look at you, eyes wide and fiery. "What are you doing here?" he rasped.

"Do you have a sec?" you said with a polite smile.

"Not really. I-" he looked disoriented and frantic.

Syd stepped in, looking determined. "I'll handle it. Go."

Carmy led you inside his office, exasperation radiating from him.

"Why are you-?" he started.

"Uh, Syd called," you replied, giving him a knowing look as he closed the door behind you.

"Fuck."

"Yeah. She said you were being a pain in the ass," you leaned on his desk.

"I- uh-" he hesitated, then covered his face, red from the heat of the kitchen but also from anger and shame. "She- she was being nice. I'm being an asshole."

You sat on his desk and sighed. "Thought so."

"Huh?" he tilted his head. You had caught him by surprise.

You gestured for him to come closer, so you could talk softer and look him in the eye.

"Listen, I know it gets super loud in your head, and you get overwhelmed and you lash out," you had seen it happen once or twice. "You need to step down when that happens."

"Syd-" he avoided your gaze. "Yeah, Syd has suggested it."

"So?" you cupped his face and tilted it towards you. "Can you do that? Can you let go for ten minutes and calm the fuck down?"

He blinked hard, stressed.

"I don't know," he confessed after a moment of consideration.

"I think you can, Carm," you encouraged him. Then, you put the second, more inappropriate part of your plan in motion. You grabbed his chef whites, and brought him closer, opening your legs to accommodate him. Then you whispered: "I'm not wearing any underwear. Thought you'd like to know."

Carmy stared at you, mouth agape.

"We're in the middle of service-"

"Listen," you gestured at the door. There were no loud bangs or screams, just the normal bustle of a kitchen; if anything it was quieter than when you first entered. "Syd is handling it. The rest of the kitchen is functioning. The sky isn't falling," you grabbed his face with both hands. "Now, will you just fuck me?"

"Shit."

He leaned down to kiss you hard, all tongue and teeth, biting a little. You ran your fingers through his hair, bringing him closer, crossing your ankles behind his waist.

"I need this to be fucking fast," he rasped against your lips.

"I know," you smiled while untying his apron and unbuckling his belt.

The mere indecency of showing up to Carmy's place of work planning to fuck him had made you wet enough to take him that very moment.

"Condoms?" he asked.

You took one out of your bag and handed it to him, palming his cock impatiently through his trousers.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He lowered his trousers and boxers just enough to pull out his cock. He grabbed the back of your knees to pull you closer to the edge of his desk, something feral about him. You bunched up your dress all the way up to your hips, confirming that you were indeed bare under it. Carmy's eyes widened.

"Shit..." his fingers touched your drenched pussy. "You planned this, the whole thing."

You nodded proudly, biting on your lip when he entered you.

"Can't believe you showed up, in the middle of service-" he murmured. "Jesus... To fuck me."

"Desperate times," you touched your forehead to his, his gaze intense. He bottomed out and you covered his mouth to muffle a whine. "See? I think you need it."

That was the tiny push he craved.

He fucked you mercilessly, forceful thrusts while he grabbed your thighs hard, keeping you on the edge of the desk, right where he wanted you. His rhythm was frantic, half out of urgency and half out of anger. You kept your hand on his mouth, silencing the tirade of curses and primal groans he was blurting. Your eyes were on him, breathy pleas leaving your lips.

"Give it to me. It's okay. Please. I need you. Please," you weren't sure if he could actually hear it all but you couldn't stop, not when you were so close to your release. Your pussy tightened around his cock, pulsing.

His grip on you faltered, eyebrows raising as he looked at you for confirmation.

You nodded, eyes half lidded in ecstasy. "Let go, baby. Let go."

He gave you a few desperate thrusts, your palm vibrating with the sound of his moans as he came.

Suddenly, the room felt eerily quiet, the only sounds that mattered were Carmy's panting and your heart's beating. You lowered your hand from his mouth to his chest.

"Shit," he closed his eyes, collecting himself.

"Mhmm," you swayed in your seat, moving his softening cock as you did so. "Better?"

He nodded, a little sheepish. "Thank you."

"Hey. Can't do this every time," you said honestly. The likelihood of you coming to fuck some sense into him on weekdays was low to none. "But why don't you think about this next time you're about to lose it?" you suggested.

"You want me to get hard while running the expo?" he chuckled. His heartbeat was slowing down.

"I mean, if that's what it takes to get you to step down and chill, sure," you teased.

While the idea of Carmy fucking his hand while thinking of you was appealing, it seemed a little impractical to do at the restaurant.

"Might just take a smoke break," he offered. "Save the fucking for when I get home."

"Deal," you kissed him and tapped his cheek gently. "Now, come on, get out there."

He got dressed and ready at a dizzying speed, taking time to rearrange your dress and kiss you one last time before returning to the kitchen. He left the door ajar, and you peeked just in time to see him give an apologetic nod to Syd and ask her to continue running the expo. It was a start. You were satisfied.

[thirstydemisexual]

Blood path || Jason Todd x vampire!reader

Prologue

divider by: @sister-lucifer

PSA: the povs will switch from second to third person as convenient. also I'm writing this as I go so yeah the pacing between the parts hopefully will be coherent

warnings: 18+ content, mention of r4pe, blood, a p3do getting what the fuck he deserves, (and bad grammar)

I've made mistakes, Lord struck me down Caught in a landslide, lost underground I hear them gates, swing open loud Come close to midnight, hell fade me down - Used To The Darkness by Des Rocs

The night was young. As the last shades of orange had just dissipated in the sky, Gotham prepared itself as their usual over abundance of criminals took to the streets. Some of them tho, were busy browsing on the internet, unlucky them.

Phil, 38, child predator who escaped Arkham a couple weeks prior, sneaking away as the Bat and the other heroes took care of the bigger fishes, was browsing on the dark web, looking on his phone at his favorite source of inappropriate child videos with a fist down his pants.

The abandoned building in which he resided, which was once an apartment complex before a villain attack, was located in a rather well populated zone of Gotham. Only two streets down from The Wayne foundation preschool.

Unlucky for him, his connection wasn't the most secure. Even a high schooler with basic computer science knowledge would have been able to dox him.

The dumb fuck didn't even try locking the door, not like it had a functional lock to begin with. But non the less, she still wouldn't be stopped by a mere lock as that men's refuge wasn't his home, thus the threshold didn't bound her. She was able to sneak into the premises without as much as a sound.

She was hungry and her face was morphed into an inhuman shape.

He doesn't even have time to scream or fight as her fangs sinks in his neck, tearing his carotid artery. Long claws shredding up the skin on his forearms as he tries to reach to stop his attacker. He stops squirming in seconds as she feasts on his blood, draining him in mere moments.

After she's done she quickly leaves the building, ready to go home and wash her hands and mouth throughly as just the mere thought of having touched that individual, let alone feeding from him, in her post feeding shame(and because of than mans nature) made her regret her choice of feeding.

Although she would never regret ridding the world of scum like him.

It was a weirdly sunny day in Gotham, Jason Todd noticed as he turned off the engine of his motorcycle after parking in the Gotham University parking lot.

Last night patrol had took a tool on him, and he was more exhausted than normal. He threw his book bag on his shoulder before entering the building, toward his first class of the day.

Jason normally quite enjoyed his Modern Literature class, but today all he wanted to do was crush on his bed at his safe house and sleep away until patrol hour came.

He sat down in one of the last rows in the room and crossed his arms on the desk before laying his head down and closing his eyes, he couldn't wait for the day to be over.

"Slept bad?" a familiar voice came from his side. Jason lifted his head up, a little smile at the realization of who it was.

"You could say that" His eyes didn't leave you as you sat down next to him and started to get your stuff ready for class.

"You could have skipped class today Jay, you seem way too tired to be here"

"And miss the chance to have our daily banter, no way miss" he replied, smirk on his face. You couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Seriously Jay, you can't keep coming to class looking like a zombie"

well technically I am a living dead so its not that out of character for me, thought Jason but didn't voice it out to her.

"I'll take a nap between classes alright? Come on, don't act like you wouldn't miss me if I were to go back home"

"You're incorrigible Todd"

"I don't hear you denying my claim" he kept smirking at you, you shushed him as the professor started class.

"Just rest your eyes, I'll give you my notes later" he chuckled a bit as he put his head down on the desk again,

"You'd be a light saver sweetheart"

If you could blush, the nickname would have done it. You tried to stay concentrated but your gaze would often stray onto Jason's figure, slumped over the deck, neck slightly exposed.

Looking so appetizing

You mentally slap yourself as you divert your eyes. That is Jason, one of your only friends NOT a charcuterie board.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm down. You didn't know why but even after feeding the thought and sight of Jason Todd just riled you up, hunger rising through your undead body and plaguing your mind.

Hopefully you'll keep being able to control yourself around him.

You have to

TAG LIST: @deimks , @amber-content , @deans-spinster-witch , @that-one-goblin , @snowy-violet , @thenightwingnerd , @zffhahaa

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[drmaddict]

Free by Choice

Summary: Simon and (Y/n) don't want children. After his vasectomy, (Y/n) realizes how much the fear of becoming a father has inhibited him.

Wordcount: 1.010

She had never experienced Simon like this before.

"The tests look good. If you want to, you have green light."

As neither of them wanted children, Simon had decided to have a vasectomy.

As he had never had a relationship before and sex wasn't really a big issue, he had never given it much thought, but that had changed.

(Y/n) didn't want children either. They're cute as long as you can give them back. She was more than willing to be 'just' the cool aunt.

The decision was final for both of them. The pill worked, but this way (Y/n) could finally stop taking it and no one had to worry anymore.

"Good means absolutely safe?"

"Yes, Mr. Riley. Your last semen sample was positive... or rather negative."

Simon just nodded and held out his hand. The doctor tried to grab it, but Simon slapped it away and pointed to the papers.

The doctor handed them to him with a slight blush on his cheeks.

Simon skimmed the pages and nodded with satisfaction.

"Thanks, doc.", he mumbled.

The doctor nodded. "If there's anything, just let me know."

It wasn't until the evening, when they were both lying on the sofa, that it started. Simon began to gently kiss her jaw, letting his hands wander under her shirt.

If only she had known then, what was in store for her.

Three hours later she wasn't really sure, whether she still had a functioning brain cell. She was lying on her stomach, exhausted and drooling on the bed. She hadn't really come down from her last high when she felt Simon's lips on her back again. Her breath caught. Simon moaned with pleasure and a little laugh underneath. "Just one more little mouse. Seven is a lucky number.", he whispered in her ear and bit tenderly into the shell of her ear.

The next morning, everything hurt. Her thighs were covered in bite marks. Her back was a mess. Her neck felt like her thighs looked and all in all, she was mostly sore. No matter how gently Simon had rubbed her with ointment.

Surprisingly, he was still sleeping next to her. Usually he would have been up and away by the time she got up. He had already trained and made breakfast, but today he was lying on his pillow, slumbering, with a cute little pout on his lips.

She turned to him with a smile. What had gotten into him? They'd had good sex, but this? Despite being on the pill, he always insisted on using a condom. He usually never came more than once inside her. Despite everything, he often pulled out and came on her. She had just assumed he was into it, but after last night?

Had he been so afraid of having a child? Had this procedure taken such a weight off his shoulders?

He moves slightly.

His eyes opened slowly.

"Morning," he mumbled.

"Morning," she simply replied.

He rubbed his face and stretched. "Fuck. My back." he grumbled.

She laughed. "Serves you right."

He didn't answer that.

She snuggled against his shoulder. He buried his nose in her hair.

"You realize, you have to carry me everywhere today, right?"

"Hm. Anywhere you want."

"Why didn't you do this before, if it was weighing you down so much?"

He closed his eyes again. "I have a therapist for that kind of talk.", he mumbled.

She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "I'm serious."

He sighed. "I've never had a relationship and the one night stands were rare and sporadic." He shrugged. "Wasn't necessary up to this point. Sorry, if it was too much."

She kissed his shoulder. "It's okay. Just remember that, when I get ugly, after I get off the pill."

"Why would you get ugly?"

"Hormonal acne and hair loss are definitely coming."

He grinned. "I've been through the meat grinder once and you're worried about a few pimples?"

She pouted. "That's a sensitive subject."

He tousled her hair, "I'll help you squeeze them out, too."

She smacked him on the chest with a grin and no emphasis. He laughed.

Five months later

Simon looked at the nutritional supplement packs that had been piling up in her kitchen for the last few months.

(Y/n's) skin had rebelled briefly, but the worst of it seemed to have subsided. For two weeks, she had been in so much pain because of the inflammation under her skin that she had sometimes stood in the shower crying.

Simon had given her every bath that could even help in the least.

But now, two months later, it had subsided. Things seemed to be settling down, even if they weren't perfect yet. She had an appointment with her beautician today and Simon had thankfully stayed at home.

He was reading the newspaper, when he heard the front door open and close again.

(Y/n) came into the small kitchen. Her skin was still shiny from some cream, but she seemed to be glowing somehow.

Unimpressed, she threw her bag onto a chair and sat astride his lap. She immediately pressed her lips to his and wrapped her arms around his neck. Taken by surprise, he tried to figure out what was going on when she pulled at his shirt. He had no idea what was about to happen.

Hours later, he lay wrung out on the bed, breathing heavily.

"I want another round. When can you manage that?"

"Today?" He looked at her in shock. She nodded.

He looked up at the ceiling, shocked. "Nothing happens here for the next three to five business days."

She looked at him, pouting.

"What's gotten into you?" he asked, pulling her hand towards him, which was already exploring again.

"Not only is my skin fourteen again, but it looks like my libido is too."

"But I'm no longer fourteen mouse... My jaw hurts... And my back."

She grinned. "Will you at least take a bath with me?"

"At least? That was eight rounds!"

"Nine is a lucky number."

"Oh Fuck."

[emma23]

Unprofessional attire:

Nathan bateman x reader

————————————————————————

You could feel Nathan's eyes on you as you entered the dimly lit room of his high-tech mansion. Working for him as an assistant in the hidden facility had its challenges—primarily Nathan himself. He was blunt, opinionated, and as you’d recently discovered, prone to an annoyingly sharp eye for details. Tonight, however, was an exception; he was hosting a reopening event for his company and you’d decided to up your style game.

Your dress hugged you perfectly, just at the edge of formal but with an added dash of allure, mainly for fun. You hadn't expected your boss to react so... intensely. Nathan's jaw clenched when he saw you, his eyes trailing slowly over the fabric as he took in every inch of your look.

You smirked and stepped toward him. "Is there a problem, Mr. Bateman?"

"Yeah," he muttered, his eyes narrowed in that calculating way. "I don't think this dress is appropriate for the reopening."

"Oh, come on. It's absolutely appropriate. Women wear stuff like this all the time."

He gave you a look, one eyebrow raised. "Not my women."

"Excuse me, your women?" you teased, tilting your head. "Since when am I yours?"

His mouth opened, then closed again, seemingly stumped. But he recovered fast. "You know what I mean."

You grinned, sensing you’d gained the upper hand. "So what exactly is inappropriate about this dress, Nathan?"

He stepped closer, his voice lowering. "I'll be imagining you on your knees in it and not being able to function. Plus, every damn man will be staring at you the entire night."

You arched a brow. "What, you can’t take a few guys staring?"

"I can," he shot back with a smirk, leaning into your space. "I just don't know if they can take me knocking them out."

You couldn’t help the laughter that burst out of you, and his smirk softened ever so slightly. Nathan Bateman was, in a word, a grump—but there were layers beneath that hard exterior. Layers you found increasingly interesting to peel back.

As the night progressed, he found every excuse to be near you, eyes darkening every time he caught another guest glancing your way. Eventually, he leaned in close, speaking just above a whisper. "Let’s skip the rest of this party. You’re distracting."

"From what?" you replied, breathless at his sudden intensity.

Nathan didn't bother answering. Instead, he took your hand, leading you out of the main hall. The thrill of secrecy and anticipation coiled in your chest as he guided you down the long hallway back to his private quarters.

In his room, the controlled, calculating man dissolved into something far more raw. His fingers traced the fabric of your dress, eyes glinting with a possessive heat. You pulled him close, finally closing the distance that had been building between you for far too long.

"God, this dress," he murmured, fingers slipping beneath the hem. "It’s been driving me insane all night."

You grinned up at him. "That was the point."

His laugh was low, edged with something darker. "You’ll pay for that later."

And so the night unfolded, filled with moments that were heated, tender, and utterly unforgettable. You teased and tested each other, pushing boundaries while finding new ways to get under each other’s skin. As the sun began to rise, you lay tangled together, both content and exhausted, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your skin.

"Still think the dress was inappropriate?" you asked, a mischievous grin on your face.

Nathan chuckled, pulling you closer. "Absolutely. In fact, I think I’ll buy you ten more just like it… and make sure you only wear them here."

You laughed, sinking into his warmth, feeling like maybe, just maybe, this grumpy genius wasn’t so hard to figure out after all.

[pablitogavii]

I love you too

Summary: One where the reader is scared of the three letter word because of the way she's been raised :)

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Reader

Warnings: mentions of smut but nothing graphic/ slight angst/ fluffy ending <3

She has been dating Pablo for some time now and they went though hell and back since the world found out about their relationship.

The survived all the gossip, judgment, obsessive fanatics and still maintained a stable and healthy relationship. They have never loved each other more, and for the first time in awhile they were both happy.

Pablo had just came back from Madrid after a game, when they made love to each other for hours next to a fire place showing to each other just how much they missed being together.

"That was amazing Gavinho.." she smiled laying on his strong chest still catching her breath while staring at the raging fire next to them.

"I love you Y/N.." he said and she felt her face getting serious as she comprehended the meaning of his words. She stayed quiet.

Nobody ever told her those three words before...in her house it wasn't common to hear people "loving" each other..it was more like they "respected" one another..so she didn't even know what those words really meant.

"Um.." he said nervously when she wasn't replying and she got up from his chest holding sheets close to her naked chest finding the best possible excuse to go home.

"I should finish that project.." she said obviously lying but he felt so embarrassed for saying like that so suddenly to her so he nodded helping her collect her clothes watching her get dressed.

Why didn't she say it back? Did she not feel the same?

When she got up, he walked her to the door pulling her waist back and leaving another kiss on her swollen lips which she gladly accepted giving him a weak smile.

"We are good..I'll see you tomorrow" she said leaving quickly while Gavi went back to bed staring up at the celling wondering what had just happened..was he pushing you hard so soon?

The next day, Pablo arrived to the training center way early not really getting any decent sleep last night and it really did show as all his teammates commented how dreadful he looked.

"Might consider getting your sleep schedule checked, kid!" Xavi even said and Pablo apologized for slacking off during training getting caught by Pedri who pulled him to the side.

"Is everything okay hermano? Is it Y/N?" he said and Pablo nodded knowing he can trust his best friend with this.

"I said "I love you" to her last night...but she didn't say it back" Pablo explained to Pedri feeling his heart breaking as he remembered wishing he knew why you didn't love him back...he wanted you to love him back so badly.

"You know how her parents are hermano, they are colder than winter..maybe she just got scared you know? But there in no doubt she feels the same as you..just give her some time to realize it" Pedri assured and Pablo nodded hoping that he didn't scare you away forever.

She couldn't sleep either neither could she function the next day at school...she kept thinking about last night and those three words Pablo used.

"I love you Y/N..." kept replaying in her head when her best friend interrupted her thoughts brining her back to reality.

"Alright, what happened?"

"Nothing..I..."

"Wanna try again? Something clearly upset you"

"He said he loves me...last night, after we made love..but I don't know what that means..so I didn't say anything...and I think I lost him forever now"

"Oh, don't be absurd. Pablo wouldn't give up on you so easily! Boy is obsessed with you..it's kinda adorable actually"

"I'm obsessed with him too...I think I might feel the same...what do I do now?"

"Wait for him at his place and tell him! You still have the key, right?"

"Yeah.." and with the last school bell she departed to Pablo's apartment to wait for him to return from his trainings.

Pablo stayed long after the training to hand out with the guys, truthfully because he couldn't get himself to lay in the bed he slept with her so many times before..it made him think about last night and he didn't want that.

"Alright, let's head home chicos!" Ansu said when it was almost midnight and everyone agreed so Pablo didn't have another choice than to go home..to his cold bed..without her next to him.

While Pedri was giving him a ride, he kept checking his phone for a text or a call but nothing came. He knew when her school ended but she didn't reach out to him the whole day...maybe she will never reach out again.

"She will call again...just time hermano" Pedri said like he was reading Pablo's mind making him smile weakly before exiting the car and getting into his apartment building.

He unlocked his door walking inside and tossing the keys to the jar before taking off his jacket little startled when he saw her sleeping on his couch.

His heart started beating fast that he saw her again as he came closer and touched her cheek softly(gif)...she was so beutiful.

"P..Pablo?" she opened her eyes unaware that she fell asleep looking up at him sleepily. He smiled nodding his head and squatting down to grab her bridal style and carry her to bedroom.

When he put her underneath the covers and walked to the closet to get changed, she started fidgeting with her fingers nervously..she wanted to say it back to him..she was ready..but she was scared...what if he changed his mind after last night?

"I love you too!" she just blurred out making him come out of the walk in closet shirtless and in his boxers with raised eyebrows.

"Um..I.." she got up from the bed walking towards him snaking her arms around his shoulders "love..." she went on her tip toes " you.." she pecked his lips "too" and the moment all that left her lips he grabbed her body making her snake her legs around his torso as he kissed her passionately.

He tossed her onto the bed hovering above her with a bright smile on his face while looking down at her glowing eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't say it last night..I didn't know.." she tried to explain herself but he stopped it with another kiss training kisses down her neck.

"I know amor....you haven't heard someone say it before..you got scared but I promise to show you what love feels like..if you'd let me?" Pablo said and you smiled nodding your head with tears falling down your face but he kissed them away capturing your lips again.

I hope you enjoyed! <33

[diejager]

Gentle Giant

Pairing : König x fem!reader

Cw: blood, gore, murder, injuries, war, FLUFF.

Wc: 3.1k

(A/N) : Its my first try at mw2 fanfic, I'm sorry if he's ooc >~<

Ps. I went with standard german since I can't find a free and functioning austrian german translator.

Calling him a giant didn't do him justice, a goliath within the army giants fit him better. Face hidden under a hood over a balaclava and the skin around his eyes painted black that made his icy blue irises gleam, König was as shrouded in mystery as he was shadowed by thick layers. His sole figure made others move away, parting ways for the behemoth to pass with big strides to match his size.

You've seen it happen too often with bigger or scarier soldiers - Ghost and König being a part of this selection - lower ranked never bothered too much with them, not wanting their ire. You understood them, having met and worked with both KorTac and the 141 before, you felt the difference between you and the men you've worked with.

You being smaller than most men, probably a bit under the average height for a woman your age, knew how menacing having someone towering over you in warfare; but you fought and earned your rank and notoriety.

You watched from afar, laying stomach down and arms propped up to hold your sniper that stood on pegs, observing your teammates through the scope. Your sights zoned in on the squad that moved forward steadily, yet carefully, weapons up and sticking in duos when they split to check corners. They caught on the front lines, the danger being higher than yours, especially on an open-aired ground like this place. KorTac could fall victim to snipers - you made sure to take care of them before you gave them a clear, spotting five gleaming scopes from the dilapidated building you hid in and you took them out, careful not to get caught - grenades, flash bangs, trigger happy newbies or enemy arms.

You watched their back, covering them from any strays advancing from the back of from higher up, you were thorough with your job. People knew you for your 'no man left behind' principle, ensuring everyone came back in one piece or with a few missing, but always alive; you were a sniper people wanted to have covering them, and that's why KorTac placed so much trust in you - aside from the times you joined them.

You heard them talk, about spreading out in teams of two through the radio, half took the front and the other would go through the back, ensuring that they'd trap the target inside.

"Moving in, Owl, " Horangi informed you, eyes forward and leading the front through the back door.

"I'll keep the line open, " you replied, watching as the last of his group entered the building.

Your eyes scoured the windows, watching through them for KorTac operators. You took shots at any armed men you saw running through the door or trying to enter the building. You pulled the bolt back and snapped it after every shot, reloading and searching around you for any enemy before returning to your observation. Gunshots rang in your ear, pained cries from afar, and loud thumps from falling bodies, given a few minutes and they would radio back for exfil with the target. As expected, your prediction of KorTac's skill happened, Stiletto radioed over that they had acquired the target and were moving out.

"Cover us, Owl," König's rumbling voice called out, the monotone timbre in his words sent a shiver down your spine.

"Copy."

"Moving towards exfil."

You watched the men exit from the back, pushing a cuffed and limping man, screaming threats at them, from garnering the ire of his country or thbackupup he called, but the operators ignored his crazed babbles. If the latter really happened, you'd have to be ready. You scoped the area around them and further back, switching to and fro the team and surroundings until they got to the helicopter.

Once you saw them board the aircraft, you jumped to your feet and held your bolt-action sniper across your chest as you watched the helicopter fly your way. The closer it got, the louder the propellers sounded and the harsher the winds became, blowing sand into your eyes, balaclava shielding you from nose to mouth from the grimy taste. Once it lowered itself near the roof, it landed and you boarded, grasping the helping hand of the behemoth. You gave a firm squeeze of gratitude before you slide the door shut and caught the glaring eyes of your target.

"Gute Arbeit, Owl."

Your answer was a swift nod, eyes meeting König's icy blues as he towered over the rest of KorTac and you.

The mission was a success, the target - terrorist - apprehended and the interrogation was left to Laswell. You'd go back to solo missions or join others as their sniper.

***

A few weeks flew by rapidly, you hadn't seen König much between your missions with TF 141, other teams, or solo missions, and the little rest you got when off duty. A part of you wished for a day of rest, but another one reminded you of the threats of straying for too long, work helped get your mind off of unwanted thoughts, and dark and dangerous ground. Working helped you stay preoccupied, leaving only your nightmare to haunt you.

You were heading to the armory, to suit up and meet with Laswell for another mission, with who? She hadn't told you. "Meeting in 15." those were her words, clear and direct. You wore the dark grey vest over your grey hoodie, helmet, and balaclava in hand, and strode to the room after you stocked up with knives, a pistol, ammunition, and your sniper in a well-protected case. You preferred arriving a minute or two before it started, not wanting to be the last nor the first to step into a room and risk the chance of an awkward waiting time with other people you hardly knew.

Fortunately, the moment you reached for the door, a familiar figure opened it, looming over you at the entrance with the palest blues you've ever seen - or admitted you liked.

"König," you greeted softly, walking in when he moved back.

He gave a slow nod, eyes fleeting and jumpy - perhaps his anxiety was acting up, you spoke with him about it once, when you were forced to stay hidden in a safe house while you waited for evac to come. Did he come here right after another mission?

"Owl, good to have you."

"Owl, how copy?" a gruff voice radioed.

Aksel, the sole Norwegian of KorTac, you knew from the rough rasp he had even when you spoke in person. This task hadn't demanded the whole team, having the need of half of the members for it in case it turned bad. Laswell had you join Aksel, König, Roze, Zero, Oni, and Zeus.

"Affirmative, Aksel, " you replied, eyes catching sight of the target's car.

A dark limousine rolled to the side, doors opening as guards in ironed suits walked out, surrounding an ugly-looking man in luxurious clothes worth probably more than your life. You could see him from 2 blocks away through your scope, eyes probed to focus on your target. He was smart, having meat shields around him from all sides, it gave him a chance to survive; if he wasn't put up against you, he's an unlucky son of a bitch. Human trafficking, drugs and weapons dealing, child prostitution, and more, all on the grounds of a country that couldn't do anything about it unless they risked betrayal. That's why they employed PMCs.

"Target in sight. Permission to shoot."

"Permission granted," Watcher, Laswell, told you from the safety of the base in the foreign country.

You were primed for a headshot, eyes narrowed to his disgusting mug. You blinked, took a slow breath, and fired as you exhaled, body jolting slightly from the fire. You kept your sights on him as you pulled back the bolt, snapping back when you saw your target fall, his head blown bloody and body slumping forward.

You felt almost proud about ending him, watching his bodyguards scramble around his corpse for safety, knowing that their boss, the one who paid them, was dead and bleeding from a hole in his head on the floor. Some jumped into the car and sped away, others into the building and some ran for cover behind alleys and buildings.

"Target down, Watcher," you spoke loud and clearly into the mic, letting her know of your success.

***

Your next mission with König, around two weeks after the prior one, hadn't gone as your expected. What you thought would be a regular job - Laswell's intel made it seem casual, recon and infiltration - turned to shit, for you at least.

You'd been deployed ahead to let you settle down and mark your sniper's nest for easier extraction, to get into position and cover for KorTac when they landed and started the infiltration. You spent a good 10 minutes covering the ones on the ground - perhaps a bit too much - after taking down the snipers posted on towers and windows to ensure their success. Your constant cover had led you to a rising problem, the enemy would figure out where your nest was and reinforcement would be called or they would send a squad to take you out. You better on the latter, but didn't know when to move; too early would alert them of your position, and too late would come to bite you in the back. The first one was too risky, the second option seemed a bit better.

You'd taken fewer shots, taking more care of keeping them guessing your position until you absolutely needed to move. You had the line open in case of emergencies, if you were caught you'd need to warn them, and let them know that you couldn't support them. You kept your guard up, eyes through the scope and ears open for any clicks or cracks from feet stepping off the rocky debris you littered around the nest.

It was a good idea on your part, as the bolt snapped, you heard crunching and moved quickly. You stuffed the sniper inside its case and swung it over your shoulder, pistol pulled to defend yourself when your buck met the wall behind the entrance.

"This is Owl, I've been made," you hushed through your mic, eyes strained on the blank opening.

Pistol pressed to your chest, and you waited until the first one walked in, seeing his extended hand before his head appeared. The gun was trained on him the instant his head passed the door, your index pulled the trigger and his head jerked right with an explosion of blood and gore. He keeled over and the following enemies all swarmed in.

It was a rush of adrenaline, you're body moved on habit and your mind was keen on killing and surviving, you kicked behind his knee and jammed a knife down the junction of his neck and shoulder, watching the blood spray over your covered face and hand. You pulled his heavy body against yours, using him as a shield as his brother unloaded his mag into him. When he was out, you shoved him forward, corpse toppling over the living soldier with a pained grunt. Dead bodies were somehow amazing weights if you needed them, it was unexpected and the lax muscles that usually held the body up crashed down. You sent a bullet through his head and watched through calm eyes the blood that soaked the floor.

The fear in his eyes when he saw the gun strained on his head, cold and creeping death that loomed over him at that moment before he saw the barrel. Fear was nothing new in your field, fear for yourself, for someone else, or from someone, fear, and death came together in war, as blood and bullets did.

You pushed the image back, quickly stepping over them with a guarded stature, making your way down to find another place to settle down.

"3 down, probably more on the way, moving west," you informed KorTac, hearing grunts and shots from their end.

"Are you all right, Owl?" asked a worried tone.

König, even in this mess, had time to worry about you, voice low with concern instead of his cold, monotone one when he fought. It was sweet, made your connection to him seem more relevant, deeper, and holding more meaning. It made your heart thrum happily.

"Yes," your reply was short since you were busy.

Moving around bodies and reloading behind the hard, cement wall, you sprung forward and shot down two other soldiers, two tapping them for assurance. The number was amassing, it went from three upstairs, one on your way down, and now four near the exit. The inside felt musky and stank of iron, maybe it was from your balaclava being soaked in someone's blood, but the smell permeated from the room, and you could taste the metal tang.

Your eyes fleeted left and right before making an exit, sprinting to the nearest cover and watching for enemies. You moved every time it felt safe, jumping from cover to cover until you reached a tall building far enough to continue your cover. It was safer, or so you thought. Someone in the enemy's beige fatigues grabbed your hands, struggling for your submission.

"Shit-"

Your curse made it to KorTac's ears, they asked for your status, to know where you were. Although you wanted to reply, you were a bit too busy with your struggle for ground when he pushed you down, back splayed on the floor as you tried to angle your gun to him. Your shared grunts were heard through the radio, your hiss from your cheek nicking a rock.

He spoke something foreign, you didn't understand him, hadn't had time to learn Farsi with all the missions you were sent on daily. You ground your teeth, your knee pushing against his abdomen with a groan. Unfortunately, he only huffed and brought the knife from his other hand closer to your face, your struggle wouldn't last long with a man twice your size over you.

From your narrowed eyes, you - both of you - missed the big silhouette of a man entering the room in a rush. A familiar knife was shoved into the man's neck as he was pulled away with beige-tipped gloves and pushed to the opposite side of the room with a raging KorTac operator holding the drowning man a few inches above the ground. His choked gurgles reached your ears as you sat up, seeing König hunched over the limp and dying enemy. He jabbed the knife multiple times into him, breaking the soft walls of the enemy's esophagus. It was a bloody display that would make privates shiver.

"König-"

As his name left your lips, he was immediately by your side, knife sheathed and weapons put aside, his hands were all over you, gripping your shoulders, arms, face, and waist. He was making sure you weren't wounded. You huffed, telling him you weren't wounded, a few scratches and bruises, but that's all. Whatever words you muttered, fell on deaf ears, König's eyes gleamed with worry, dilated and wide.

Getting hurt and dying was part of the job, but that didn't mean anyone wanted to get hurt or die. He knew that, yet the thought of seeing you gone, bleed out, or fallen into the enemy's hands scared him. He worried about you, a being so small and fragile to him, but strong and fierce as you've shown him so many times.

You broke down the barriers he put up, melted the anxiety that he had, and shared your darkest moments with him as he did with you. Your heart beats for him and him, you. It was a dangerous thing, letting one so close that your heart would die if the other was gone. Fear had rushed through him when he heard your grunts, it latched to his back and dragged him back. He couldn't go with the others knowing you were ambushed, he had to turn back and help you. Although he knew you were capable, he just couldn't shake the terror off until he saw you still in one piece.

That's why he left his formation and ran to yours in blinded fear and anger, the latter for the one who stood over you.

Even crouched down, he towered over you, hooded face shadowing you from the sun. Your stomach fluttered every time your eyes met his, the cold and calculative - sometimes murderous - gleam melted to a soft and caring one, warm and comforting as the sun. You muttered again, told how he saved you, that you're alive because of him. You gave him soothing words, eyes locked in a war-torn location.

***

König, however dangerous, was calm and caring, a quiet figure that held your hand and moved with you down the halls. He used to hide in the shadows - he still had the tendency to do it when you weren't with him - and distance himself from others. He used to hide and avoid people, explaining his reasons as to why he would only let you in, close enough to hold hands and share kisses. You liked the thought of being the only one inside, the special someone he let himself be near and touch without freezing up or stuttering.

You remember seeing him sliding through the crowd and vanishing when he ruined the corner or when you blinked, steps so quiet and so purposeful that you thought he was making sure to lose you - he had mentioned feeling you stare at him, wanting to bury himself in a pit for getting your attention, someone he admired and respected.

König was guarded, he protected himself from pain and people, and now, he vowed to do the same for you, to keep you from harm - when he was teamed with you - and from people - although not the jealous type, he didn't want to risk it.

Fraternizing was shamed by some higher-ups, the old coots like General Sheperd, but most didn't care, some encouraged you - Task Force 141 - and König - KorTac - to make due with what you had and reap the best of it. The danger of getting attached ran high, but you two made it work, you watched over him as Owl and you loved and adored him as (Name).

Perhaps, after retiring, you'd buy a house, a small one in the countryside far from civilization to keep to yourselves. To love and grow old together seemed like a beautiful idea to you when König had his drunk, bumbling mess after a can or two while you stayed sober to drive the team back.

You've come far, from brothers in arms to lovers on the battlefield, you've had your fears and your moments, but you always reached for him when he reached for you. Love's a game for two, after all.

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Daryl has never been so proud.

After managing to get her into a car, which presented itself to be quite the challenge they had driven out to her last living space and took all the pelts and items she had left behind.

It was clear as day she was terrified of the vehicle but she soldiered through, wrapping herself and her son into their retrieved pelts for some comfort on the way home.

She did it scared.

"Where ya wan' these?" Daryl stepped through the doorway with a stack of pelts in his arms, staring at her pointing up the stairs and walking to show him. He followed suit.

The room she had been using for the last few days was still relatively empty besides a bed and a cabinet, but she wanted the pelts there, and the bed gone aparently.

"So, bed out." Nod.

"Mattress too?" He got a look in return, not really sure what it meant so he kept it up against the wall for now. "So what's next? Wanna check the community stash fer somthin' ta wear?"

Another short moment of quiet before she nodded. She wasn't comfortable around the people yet, had tried to meet some but quickly hid when even one too many came up to her. "Ya got me witya, ain' no one botherin'ya."

And so their first official trip around the community was a fact. Olivia had given them space on Daryl's request and promised to watch her as she dug through the inventory of clothing and fabric items and after having picked out a bunch of stuff and having wrapped herself in a thick, soft flannel Daryl had called Olivia back to check on their selection and went back home again.

It wasn't strange they caught a bunch of stares from original residents, seeing the strange new woman walking around and barely knowing how to function as a human. Even after being explained the situation they still weren't happy with this feral person freely walking around.

Daryl watched her pull the flannel closer to her body, head ducked low as to hide and put an arm around her. "Ignore them. 'M happy yer here so it don' matter what they think." She pressed further into his side, as close as she could while she held her son and Daryl carried their haul.

Another little victory for her.

Back home she quickly went back upstairs again, trying to get help with putting everything away. "Yeah I suck at foldin' this. Ya gotta ask Carol."

He knew she didn't want to. While Carol had offered her things she was still wary. Which he found a little weird with how easily she seemed to have stepped up to the gate and interacted with Rick. Probably adrenaline and the dire need for help.

"I'll come witya, but yer doin' the askin'." A grumble was all he got as reply as she picked up the newborn again and handed him over.

So now the three of them were on their way to two houses over. Her up front with Daryl at the porch steps with his son in his arms, which Carol found an absolutely beautiful picture.

"What brings you here, sweetie?" Carol stared at the scared woman and paid attention to her motions and noises, trying to get at least some gist of what she needed.

"I gotta come with you?" Nod nod. Carol nudded in return and agreed to follow, giving Daryl a look in hopes he'd tell her more but he shook his head. "Ain't helpin' er. She's gotta learn." He only shrugged and continued to play with the little one in his arms.

"You're good at that." She commented on the way he was so calmly handling his child he didn't even know he had a week ago.

Back home upstairs Carol was led to the pile of clothes, watching as she grabbed a shirt, flopping it into a somewhat folded mess and held it out to Carol who now understood why she needed help. "Yeah okay I see. Daryl sucks at folding laundry so you asked me huh." A proud smile made its way into her face as she nodded. She was pleased to be understood by someone else than Daryl.

"Okay so I'll show you and you watch first, okay?" Nod nod.

And so Daryl was seated on top of the nest of pelts with his son, absentmindedly chatting and bonding while the women were working through laundry lessons. "Shirt. Easy." Carol's voice was soft and clear as she talked through the steps of folding different items and watched her steps being repeated in a well enough matter. "You got this! You learn quick." She smiled widely with her compliment. "Now, don't be afraid to come by for more help, okay? I'm a friend."

Daryl said that word a lot. Friend. She knew it was a good one, it held a good feeling from long ago before she lost it all.

"--anh yoo" it felt weird to use her voice, but she knew she had to eventually. But when Daryl shot up at the sound she spooked a little. "Didya just.. talk?" The energy coming off both humans was that of pride and happines. So much it warmed her on the inside. She gloated and happily nodded. "Anhcyoo" she repeated herself and it was clear that she meant 'thank you'.

"Look at ya sayin' yer words." He had a hard time containing his excitement at her progress, and Carol couldn't help but give him a knowing smile.

"'M' so proud o' ya, wolfie."

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: After some time there's a new one!

[Pt.1] [Pt.2]

[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 22

WARNINGS: passionate kissing

Sadly, there had not been enough time left for a full lesson after Harry's speech back in the Room of Requirement. You want to begin Dumbledore's Army sessions as soon as possible, but you're going to have to remain patient for now.

You can't believe this is all happening... all of this. You-Know-Who is back. The entire Ministry of Magic has gone completely bonkers. You are going to learn defensive magic (and also, hopefully, some offensive magic; that would be absolutely wicked) from Harry Potter himself! But, somehow, above all else, you've gotten to know Fred and George Weasley on a personal level. You smile to yourself at the thought.

"What are you so happy about?" George asks.

You are currently in the twins' dormitory, sitting cross-legged on the floor by the warm stove. In your hands is an open book with the title of "Potion Ingredients: Combinations and Functions". Tonight is a study night, so there's no bubbling cauldron in the center of the room. George lounges in bed, lying on his side with his head propped up on his hand. Fred sits on the other side of the stove, flipping through some other text book.

You weren't aware of George watching you, so you're caught off guard. "Nothing," you reply quickly out of habit. Fred looks up from his book, and George raises an eyebrow, but neither of them push any further.

You go back to your own book for a few minutes until you spot some movement in the corner of your eye, and you lift your head. You catch a glimpse of Fred nodding briefly to George.

"What was that?" you ask.

"Nothing," the twins reply in unison.

You laugh. "Fair enough, fair enough."

Fred gets to his feet and stretches his long arms up above his head. "I've got a scheduled visit with the loo right about now. I'll be back soon; don't miss me too much." He gives George one of their unspoken and indecipherable twin communication looks.

"We won't," George chortles as Fred closes the door behind him.

There's a long moment of silence in which the quiet snoring of the twins' roommates and the soft crackling of the stove are all that can be heard. You start to yawn sleepily, but cut it short when George sits up in bed. You curiously watch him stand up and come over to sit facing you on the floor.

You close your book and set it aside. "Well, hello th—"

George interrupts you with an unexpected hug, and it's very different from any hug you've ever received before.

He brings you to him, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you up against his torso. His large hands splay out over your back and grasp fistfuls of your sweater. He buries his face in your neck, causing a pleasant shiver to run down your spine.

You are absolutely stunned, frozen until the sound of your own heart thumping rapidly in your chest brings you back into the moment. You exhale excessively, not having realized that you were holding your breath, and return George's embrace.

It isn't until now that you fully recognize just how big George is. It's obvious to anyone that the twins are tall, and you've hugged George once before, but now that you aren't occupied with crying your eyes out (as you had been during that previous hug) and can take your time to really feel him in your arms, you seem like a complete child compared to George! You're even having to prop yourself up on your knees for this hug while he's sitting down.

A minute later, George hasn't let go of you yet, and you begin to worry.

You gently run your fingernails up and down his back and his frame quivers beneath you. "George?" you say quietly.

"Yeah?" he replies, his voice muffled by your neck. You have to force yourself not to giggle when the movement of his mouth tickles your skin.

"Are you alright?"

George pulls away from you so he can see your face, but keeps his hands on your waist. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

He does appear to be just fine, happy even. So, why else would he hug you if it wasn't for comfort? You know that hug was too intimate to be a simple I-appreciate-you-as-a-friend hug, and even now the way George continues to hold you sends a very particular message...

You make contact with his lovely, bright, green eyes, and feel yourself start to blush. "I mean, maybe it's just me..." You look down at your hands to hopefully hide your blush until it goes away, but your hands are on his broad chest and realizing this makes your face redden even more. "But you seem to be acting a little out of character."

George lowers his head and forces you to meet his eyes. He notices your bright, red cheeks and grins in amusement. "I'm not," he says, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. You must be blushing an incredible shade of red now, and you are grateful he doesn't mention it. "Acting out of character, I mean." He finds your hands on his chest and takes them into his. He pulls them up over his shoulders, giving you no choice but to come closer so your face is only mere inches away from his. He places his hands on your waist once more and gives you one of his crooked smiles, and your heart melts at seeing it so up close. "As you, of all people, should know," George continues. "The further you get in a book, the more you get to know the characters. I think that..." He pauses, glancing down at your lips, and his words become almost a whisper. "You just need to keep on reading."

Your face is hot, your palms are sweaty, and your heart is beating so hard that you wonder if George can hear it. You can't help but stare at his mouth, his dashing smile, his lips... You start to lean in, but George is the one who closes the gap.

He kisses you. George Weasley. Kisses. You.

The way his lips brush yours is sweet, gentle, almost careful, like he's unsure of what sort of reaction to expect from you. You don't blame him. Even you don't know what to expect from yourself in this kind of situation. So, you try not to expect anything. You simply listen to your heart, close your eyes, and soon find yourself kissing George back.

George's cautious approach immediately disappears. His hold around you tightens, his lips now moving with yours confidently, joyously, triumphantly.

For the first time, you allow yourself to be entirely submerged in that now familiar, sweet scent of honey and redwood. You acknowledge the firmness of George's arms as they flex around you, appreciating also his broad, muscular shoulders. Your hands move up the back of his neck and into his thick, red hair. He sighs into your mouth and you feel his entire body momentarily relax as you unintentionally begin to massage and scratch his scalp with your fingers, but he recovers quickly and comes back kissing you with twice as much vigor.

You sense George is getting carried away when his fingers begin to fiddle with the bottom edge of your sweater, so you reluctantly break the chain of kisses. This seems to bring him back to his senses, and the both of you remain on the floor for a minute or two, panting heavily.

"Did I read far enough?" you eventually chuckle.

George laughs and stands up. "Don't put my book back on the shelf just yet." He helps you to your feet, then wraps you into another hug. As you rest your head on his chest, a concerning thought forms in your mind. You take a step back from George.

"Y/n?" George asks. His expression turns worried and he goes to take your hand, but you pull it away.

This is wrong. This is so wrong. You're interested in two guys. Two guys that are brothers. And even worse, they're twin brothers. They are each other's best friends. You're almost certain that Fred feels the same way, and to the same extent, about you that George does, and you can't favor one over the other. Your equal range of feelings for both twins won't allow you to choose between them. Even if your heart did have a preference, you're sure it would cause a rift between the brothers if you followed it. Ever since you've known them, you've treated the twins exactly the same regarding relationship status. But what you just did solidified huge progress in your relationship with George that you don't have with Fred. Could you have possibly just... accidentally chosen George?

"What about Fred?" you whisper, mostly to yourself. "What happens when he finds out...?"

George's expression softens with relief, and he chuckles. "I have a feeling he already knows."

You're eyebrows knit together in confusion. George nods toward the door, which is cracked open suspiciously. You see something move behind it.

You slowly approach the door and open it to find... nothing. Then you look to your left and gasp in alarm. "Fred!"

He casually leans up against the wall by the door, propping his leg up and folding his arms like he wasn't just eves dropping on you and George seconds ago. He turns his head at the sound of your voice. "Y/n! How do you do?" he greets you, standing up straight. There's not an ounce of guilt on his handsome face.

Your mouth hangs open in disbelief. "When did...? How long...?"

"I saw and heard everything!" Fred declares cheerily. He brushes past you and enters the dorm. He greets George with a congratulating handshake. "And you, dear brother! How was it?"

George looks over at you longingly. "It was absolutely grand," he replies, and you blush, flattered and flustered by the memory of kissing George, until you remember that Fred is now present.

"Fred... y-you're not upset?" you stutter, still trying to process all of the emotions currently running amuck in your mind.

"Not in the slightest," Fred responds. He comes back over to you and rests his forearms up on the top of the doorframe that you still stand under, making himself appear even larger than he actually is. "But you seem to be." With the dim light of the room behind him, Fred's body is only a shadowy silhouette in the doorway, so it is rather spooky (in an exciting, stimulating sort of way) when his green eyes seem to glow despite the lack of surrounding light. Fred's hands gradually slide down the sides of the doorway as he bends down so that his mouth is right by your ear when he speaks. "Don't worry, love," he whispers. His warm breath on your skin causes goosebumps to form on your arms. "You'll have your time with me soon enough."

Fred's words ring in your ears long after he says them. He stands up straight and smirks at the look on your face. George is suddenly standing behind him, and, for a fearful moment, you wonder if he's cross about Fred flirting with you, but no. He taps Fred on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, good sir," says George politely. Fred gives you a wink before moving out of George's way.

George steps forward to hug you once again. He plants a quick but tender kiss on your lips before encouraging you out the door. "You'd better get moving," he says. "It's almost midnight."

"Oh, wow! Midnight?" The time had really flown by. "Alrighty then. Goodnight, George." You stand on the tips of your toes to kiss him. You then peer over his shoulder and wave to his twin. "Goodnight, Fred."

"G'night, y/n," Fred responds, smiling knowingly and returning the gesture, only adding a little bit more flare by waggling his fingers. You giggle.

You turn away to start heading down to your own dormitory, but George grabs your hand and spins you back around. "One more, one more," he chuckles, and does indeed give you one last passionate kiss for the night.

You walk away feeling lightheaded, and silently pray that the recollection of tonight's events won't cloud your mind, causing you to let your guard down and get caught on the way back to your common room.

[zop-story-archive]

Upon leaving the dingy washroom's quiet respite, Sylvain was quickly reminded of his grim present. Faded, worn band posters covered the holes and tears in the smoker beige wallpaper. The ancient wooden floor loudly protested at the smallest step on its planks. None of the light fixtures, plumbing, or appliances had been updated in at least three and a half decades, so it was a coin flip if anything in the home functioned properly, if at all.

"Hey, took ya long enough!" Aldin lightheartedly teased. The lizard man laid on their worn, tacky couch, his clawed fingers tapping away at his phone. Even in the apartment's drab lighting, his multicolored scales and long, yellowed horns noticeably glimmered. Unfortunately, Aldin’s choice not to wear a shirt meant his teal tendoned innards shone prominently out of the gaping hole in his gut. Of all the repugnant traits and behaviors that made up his Dagon-spawn companion, Sylvain found this part of him most vile.

The vampire ignored his roommate and entered the unwholesome kitchen. He nervously paused at their bright orange fridge, a noticeably newer item compared to the apartment's other accommodations. In one foul swoop, he opened the door, grabbed his breakfast, a single beer, then shut the fridge with a loud slam. Thank the cosmos, it was inactive for the day. Sylvain made his way to their stripped sofa as he popped the bottle cap off his drink. Aldin immediately shifted up against the couch's arm while hanging his scaly right leg and tail off the side. The pale ghoul sat in his typical spot, smashed into a crude cast of his frame due to repeated use, and took a swig. "So, what the hell did you feel the need to bother me about?" he inquired.

"Ah, right, one sec!" After a bit of rapid poking and clicking, Aldin showed off the screen of his phone. The multiple small cracks and large bandage plastered on the front heavily obscured its display. Sylvain never understood how the lizard managed to use that piece of junk for anything. "Kent texted me this mornin' about another lead he found in his paper stash. Said he needs more time to look into it, but it seemed promisin'," Aldin explained.

Sylvain scowled with doubt at the news. Kent was a burglar whom Aldin paid to garner the city of Pythonel's long forgotten secrets. While the maggot sack had access to good resources, the bloodsucker was still dubious of his intentions. "You honestly think that worm can still help? He's been feeding you that same line for months, and he hasn't dug up much of shit."

"Now c'mon that ain't fair! He's helped us plenty to get cozy with the holders, hasn't he?" Aldin countered vehemently. "Kent's a bit slow, I'll admit that, but he gets results. I wouldn't be botherin' with him if he didn't."

"Fine, maybe he's not totally useless, but I still think relying so heavily on one guy could come back to bite us in the ass," Sylvain argued.

"Well we ain't got much choice mate. Most blokes in town think what you wanna do is gonna get you killed," Aldin replied with a shrug.

"What really pisses me off is that I know the brainlets in this shithole want it as much as I do." The vampire's words dripped with condescending vitriol, like the noxious saliva of a rabid dog. "They're just too scared to actually get up and help themselves."

"Maybe you're right, but you ain't gonna win many more buddies with that attitude," the lizard offered. He sat himself up, got on his filthy, taloned feet, then grabbed a slightly musty Grunts and Hoses shirt off the floor. "I'm gonna head out and try muggin' the mongrels at the park," Aldin explained as he dressed himself.

"Alright. Just don't get caught, we don't have money to piss away on bailing you out," Sylvain warned.

"Yeah yeah I'll be careful. Stay safe, cunt!" The miasmic gatorman gave his roommate a wave goodbye before exiting. Left alone with silence and his cheap pork chop, the vampire took his time finishing his drink. He looked around the poorly maintained abode, often left a mess due to him and Aldin being absent most days. Sylvain thanked the horrid thing which brought him into this world that his brothers were not here. If they saw the pitiful conditions he was forced to live in, they would brutally kick him while he was down. Well, those degenerates frequently battered him no matter the situation, seeing as he was the runt, but that was besides the point.

Sylvain eventually rose with a stretch, and tossed the empty bottle into a trash across the room. He then made his way to his own quarters, eager to plan out his day of calculated bloodshed.

[clairedaring]

Okay, I dare not reblog your response to the essay post because the length of it is already too much, so Imma continue/reply through this new ask instead! ---------------

First: Thank you! I'm delighted that you enjoyed my rambling essay so much! And if it's good, it's only because you asked the right questions and gave me this opportunity to yap! An answer is only as good as its question allows it to be, after all!

-----

Assuming that the paper receipt Win found in the last episode implied his missing? dead? dad was also caught up in some money laundering shady business at the temple, I think Win will play some kind of double agent character in S2 where he’s forced into both running shady temple business all the while reporting back to the RDJ-looking cop.

YES! I think Win's gonna find himself in a teeth-clench cooperation with Cop RDJ (and the feelings might be mutual until maybe the two of them reach an understanding as S2 progresses)!

That cop seriously has more things going on with him beyond what we glimpsed. He has very personal goals he wants to achieve—whatever means necessary. Could he actually be a personal friend of Win's father? Or someone who used to work with him? Is Win's father the common thread between Win and Cop RDJ?

I'm very interested in his side of the story, man!

----

To be honest, they’ve ended Monk Dol’s arc so well, I really don’t want to sacrifice his character’s integrity and beliefs for the sake of the narrative but I also badly need him onscreen again as the only character with a moral compass in this series full of peope without it ಥ_ಥ

Sadhu, you nailed my struggle! I know I shouldn't be attached, but bro, I am. Too late!!! Y'all made him too charismatic and earnest in his practice and conduct, and now you created one of the best religious-affiliated characters I've ever met in my personal list of fiction.

Imagine if Monk Dol was a real person I know!!! Yo, I'll do anything to be his kalyāṇa-mitta ("noble/virtuous friend;" Buddhist friendship characterized by camaraderie in helping each other improve while practicing The Noble Eightfold Path. It includes chastising each other for unskillful conduct, etc).

I like to point out that Monk Dol was also written to be afflicted with the Three Poisons (klesa) through his attachment to Dear, so he's actually flawed despite being the best boy person in the series. He showed delusion (moha) such as thinking Dear could ever be with him and that he should disrobe to be with her. He showed attachment (rāga), most obvious in his dream of Dear and that scene in the bathroom. The only klesa he exhibited the least, even when he had grown attached to Dear, was aversion or hatred (dosa), but it was still present—in his quiet resentment and growing regret over becoming a monk at too tender an age. He was growing averse to his life as a monk.

So I think, one of the many functions Monk Dol provided in สาธุ was also about a Buddhist's valorization of growth from mistakes. Instead of characterizing his lapse with Dear as a sort of fall in morality or failure in his religious duty, the emphasis was placed on how Monk Dol overcame his delusion. In Buddhist ethics, moral progress is extolled—more so than moral duty and moral adherence. It's all about effort, striving, and using your mistakes to learn; Monk Dol's character arc exemplifies that. One of the Buddha's lauded disciples was Aṅgulimāla, a serial killer, after all.

Okay LOOK I REALLY LIKE THIS GUY, OKAY

------

Whatever happens in S2, I hope S2 gives me lots of Monk Dol internal struggles, nothing I love more than a tortured gentle, kind soul (@ สาธุ scriptwriters, please don’t use my beloved Monk Dol as a sacrificial martyr though, HE’S SUFFERED ENOUGH) getting a bittersweet, hopeful-ish open ending.

OH SHIT. I... I'm also a sucker for tortured gentle, kind soul!!! Ahhhhhhh!

--------

I LOVE the scene you chose to make your new gif.

Because this Dhamma talk was probably the hardest-to-understand of all. I'll tell you why...

In this one, Monk Dol was explaining upādāna ("clinging; attachment"). However, he wasn't talking about the usual stuff about attachment like "don't be attached to money" "don't be attached to beauty" or "don't be attached to fame."

He's talking about attachment to things Buddhists think are good. Meditation. Making merits. Offering alms to monks. The rituals. He's saying that one should not even be attached to these good things. "It's easy to be attached to things that feel pleasant. But we should not be attached to them, too."

It's very counterintuitive. Buddhists are taught that all of these stuff are good and moral, so why not be attached to them?

Because if you're so stuck in doing them, it will also start to become a burden to your mind, and then it turns into suffering. But there's also more to it!

The Buddha had an analogy for this (I forgot in which sutta/sutra, though. Bruh yapped way too much and had a shit ton of sutta in the Pali Canon). Paraphrasing from my memory here:

The Dhamma is a boat. When you want to cross the river and reach the other side, you use the Dhamma (and related tools). But once you reach it and are now on land, do you still hold onto the boat? No. You discard it, having no longer need it on land. To cling to anything when it's no longer required causes dukkha.

This is what Monk Dol was also saying in that talk. Samadhi ("wisdom") during meditation is nice and pleasant, but true samadhi is knowing when to be detached from the pleasantry of meditation so that the "bliss" of it doesn't distract you from your real goal (of Enlightenment).

And this, I need to stress, was the Dhamma talk Monk Dol was giving in his first appearance. I was absolutely floored and impressed, man, because this isn't something someone with a more pop culture understanding of Buddhism can come up with. Again, fucking props to the scriptwriters and their advisors; they really know their shit!

----

Okay yea I am done rambling ahahhaha. Please, if you cook more The Believers gif set I will EAT THEM SO GOOD. I wish more people are into this shit, goddamn. And I can't wait for Season 2!!!

(You have no idea how happy I am to find a fellow appreciator like you!)

Thank you Lyn for once again blessing me with even more insights into the brilliant writing and details in the characterisation of Monk Dol (i don't deserve this. cries happy tears ಥᴗಥ. months and months of waiting and lurking in the สาธุ tag for fellow สาธุ appreciators has finally come into fruition. i truly have no regrets spending hours screencapping สาธุ. always said they were purely self-indulgent but i must admit i always secretly hope people would come across them and gave the series a chance).

I didn't think I could love Monk Dol more but you have truly proven that Monk Dol is truly in fact best flawed boi monk. In a series with such a sensitive topic, I understand that careless writing could have easily made him a terrible character or cause great controversial or mixed reactions but I do think the writing for Monk Dol was just sophisticated enough and it feels like there's much care in the crafting of his character (my beloved Dol).

Kudos to Pup who plays Monk Dol as well, because I would have never guessed that he isn't a professional actor but the frontman of a rock band (funnily enough i've been listening to Potato (his band) forever but i didn't register that they're the same person until I started watching interviews and they start asking Pup about how does it feel to transform from a rock singer to a monk).

i shall end this ask with a gif encapsulating my exact reaction of Monk Dol's first Dhamma talk/sermon

[deviljayman]

Darksider - Vampire Fantasy Novel (WIP) Chapter 4 - Run (Draft 2)

If you want to read the full story, send a message over and I'll give you access to the full story currently.

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Arlin’s sleep was restful but strange; he spent most of it drifting between a state of unconsciousness and waking. He caught glimpses of their travel, the snow beginning to fade and the trees gaining their leaves as they traveled further down the mountain. That freezing chill shifted to something more comfortable, still cold but no longer hostile. 

He hadn’t realized it, but there was a point where they had stopped moving. He felt something solid supporting his head and something soft keeping him warm. In the moment where Arlin recognized this change, he felt himself being gently shaken.

“Awaken now, little one; it is time to get up.” Leon whispered. 

Arlin groaned slightly, clearly wanting to sleep more but forcing himself awake. He opened his mouth wide to yawn, shaking his head after to dispel his sleepiness. Opening his eyes, he looked around to see his new surroundings. 

To start, he was resting against a tree while covered by a warm blanket, most likely something Leon brought with him. They were resting on a hill; to Arlin’s right was the forest they’d just come out of, the snow still visible just past the treeline. To his left was a new sight to him; a small township was located just at the bottom of the hill. 

“Good, you are awake. Did you rest well?” Leon asked, seeing Arlin look around.

Arlin yawned once more before replying. “Yeah, it was good. Probably some of the best sleep I’ve had in a while.”

“That is good to hear.” Leon looked tired, to be expected from spending the night running and not sleeping. He was no longer in his wolf form and was now taking a sip from a tea cup. Looking to his side, Arlin noticed there was a cup for him as well. 

“The town just down the hill is called Silvala.” Leon stated. “It is a small city; we can stop there for supplies and perhaps find some place to keep you safe.”

Arlin nodded, picking up the cup of tea to his side and taking a sip. It was a bit bitter; it seemed Leon had added some sugar to offset the pungent flavor. Regardless of the taste, it was warm; it was just what Arlin needed. 

“Is your arm okay?” he asked. 

Leon gave a comforting smile. “My arm is just fine, there is no need to worry yourself.”

“I still don’t really understand how it healed, could you tell me how?”

“Of course I can.” Leon assured. “What do you know about the anatomy of Monsters? How our bodies function.”

Arlin thought for a moment, trying to think back to the books he was made to read; most of the knowledge having been forgotten. “Well I know that we’re made of magic, but I don’t really know what that means.” 

“That is correct, how much do you know about magic?”

“My caretakers always described it as ‘the ability to impose one’s will on the world’, it always sounded cruel.”

“I think there are better ways to explain it to you.” Leon stated, clearly unhappy with the education Arlin received. “Magic is a force, one that makes up our bodies and can be shaped and formed. That is how we exist. Magic is malleable, it can be changed and influenced.”

Putting his arm out, it shifted and changed into a wolf-like claw. 

“Because we are composed of magic, we can shape our bodies. That is how I can change into my lycanthrope form, and it is how I healed my arm.”

“So we can just change our bodies in any way we want?” Arlin asked.

“Not exactly. Our bodies are still concret, they have form. If we were able to freely change our bodies at will, we would be at risk of losing our physical form. That is what our skeletons are for, they act as anchors to prevent us from losing control of ourselves.”

“So I couldn’t transform into a werewolf like you?”

“You could not.”

Arlin looked a little disappointed. “Why not?”

“The capabilities of our magic is dependent on our heritage, from what we are born of. You are born of darkness so you can command shadows, I am born of blood which allows me to transform. Does that make sense?” 

Arlin nods. “Sorry, I’m just a little bummed I can’t turn into a werewolf.”

“Well, I can not create animals of shadow to aid me. We all have our strengths, it is important to have pride in them.”

“They are pretty cool.” Arlin summons a small bird which nuzzles up to him and nests in his hair.

“Magic is quite a powerful thing, it can shape the world around us and even ourselves. However I would refrain from overusing it, as you saw when you summoned that falcon, it can be taxing on your body if used too much.” 

“I wish I could do more with my magic, I can’t just be collapsing after summoning one animal.”

“There will come time to practice and learn, however now we must head into the city. First Night is young, let us try to find a place for you to be safe.”

Leon walked over, finishing his tea and extending a hand to help Arlin stand. His body was still a bit stiff from sleeping but he stretched and rose with Leon. The city was just below, and seemed to be quite lively as the night had just begun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silvala was bigger than anything Arlin had ever seen before. It was a sprawling place, buildings crawling up the hill and uniting at one point at the peak. Traversing the city was like walking uphill at all times, the whole thing was exhausting. The people here didn’t seem to be having as much trouble as Arlin was having, they almost glided up and down the inclining streets.

“Why are the streets like this?” Arlin asked.

“The cities here are built like mountains or hills, they are meant to build up to the peak where the nobles of the city live.” Leon explained. “Everyone else lives on the incline.”

“I wish they would have thought about my poor legs when they were making this city.” Arlin said. “We just got here and I’m already sore.”

“We will be leaving once we find a way to keep you hidden, try to bear it for now.”

Arlin nodded, groaning a bit as they both trekked further into the city. He tried to ignore his discomfort and took a look around. Like before, the people seemed used to this city and its design, like they had adapted to their circumstances a long time ago. 

The people here were different to Arlin, he had been so isolated on that mountain that he had never seen what other monsters looked like. Many of them had the features of animals, some with animal-like ears or tails. They had the features of wolves, cats, rabbits, and even bears. Some looked like Leon in his lycanthrope form while some were somewhere in between. Among the crowd were a few vampires, but they weren’t the majority. Arlin could pick a few out as they walked past, many of them seemed to be heading toward the higher parts of the city. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he saw a hooded figure with horns duck into an alley. When he turned his head to get a better look, he saw nothing there.

“Is something wrong?” Leon asked.

Arlin thought for a moment, before shaking his head. “It’s nothing.”

Leon led the two of them over to a small market, the stalls being embedded in the ground to make sure they didn’t slide down the incline. They were selling all sorts of things there, from food, clothes, and all kinds of trinkets. One table had a spread of different knickknacks, they were these small wooden dolls inlaid with various gemstones. Arlin stared at them for a moment, a shine forming in his eyes. He hadn’t noticed that Leon had already moved on and felt a tug on his arm as he signaled to Arlin to keep going, he shook himself out of his starry eyed state and followed.

They walked over to a small stand selling an assortment of fruits, piled up in baskets to the brim. There were plums, nectarines, kiwifruit, and many more. Leon reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag, emptying out a handful of silver coins. He exchanged the currency for a small bag of figs, taking out a few and handing them to Arlin.

“Here, I hope you find these palatable.” Leon said.

“What are these?” Arlin asked.

“They are figs.” He explained. “Here, let me show you.”

He took one of the figs from the bag, the fruit dwarfed by his hand. It was a small thing, a pale green color in the shape of a teardrop. He pinched the stem, twisting it and revealing the beautiful light red color inside. Arlin looked in amazement, the color of the fruit matching his big ruby eyes. Leon held the small fruit out to him to take. 

“You can eat them whole or peel the skin off if you would like, try it.”

Taking the fig, he held it up to his nose and sniffed it, picking up on the sweet and almost dirt-like smells. With slight hesitation he ate the fruit, quickly chewing it so he could spit it out if he didn’t like it. But he didn’t, because it tasted amazing. His eyes lit up, literally, as the honey-like taste of the fig filled his senses. 

“Do you like it?” Leon asked.

“I love it!” Arlin exclaimed. “All the fruit up on the mountain was sour, this is so sweet!”

“Are sweet things to your liking?” 

“I think so, I haven’t had a lot but I love this. Could I have another?”

Leon smiled. “Of course.”

He took the bag and took out a handful, placing them in Arlin’s extended palm. They started walking further into the city, Arlin forgetting about his sore legs as he happily ate his figs. The two of them were currently around the border of the lower and upper city, the building of the upper city obscuring the moon and stars. The Coven Guard were dense here, stopping any undesirables from entering the upper city. 

Leon took Arlin’s hood and made sure it covered his face.

“Be careful, the guard could already be after us.”

“Already? It’s only been a day.” Arlin said.

“Our escape was a bit, loud. The driver could have informed his superiors about our disappearance, word travels fast among the High Coven.”

Arlin thought about their escape, it was his idea to get out of there in that way. A pit formed in his stomach. 

“We will have to stay low, we don’t want any unwanted attention on us.” Leon explained.

“Okay…” Arlin said, trailing off. “What are we doing so close to them then?”

“I have heard that this area is known for more, unsavory characters. Perhaps they could help us find some sort of safe house or hiding place.” 

“Are you sure we have to go here?”

“We do not have any other options, this will have to do.” 

Arlin groaned, he didn’t like the plan but couldn’t really argue against it. The further they walked into this section of the city, the more his anxiety rose. All around them were other monsters, most wearing cloaks just like them. They were all staring at him, clearly noticing they weren’t from the area. He didn’t like it, he didn’t want these people to scrutinize him so closely without even speaking to him. 

Soon the two of them were in the back alleys, far away from the sight of the Coven Guard. The alley ended in a small circular loop, a few other people were hanging around and watching the two newcomers.

“It should be near.” Leon said. “Stay close, Arlin.” 

Arlin did just that, sticking very close to Leon and keeping a nervous eye on everyone around them. They walked up to the back of a building, a rough looking vampire standing by the door. He had long gray hair to the right side of his head, the left side was undercut with an uneven shave. His skin was pale and his eyes glowed a dim orange. 

“What do you want?” he growled. 

“I heard you offer services to hide those who are being sought after.” Leon stated.

“What about it? Are you gonna report me or-” 

He was cut off as the door next to him opened next to him. The head of another vampire popped out, short light-brown hair, pale skin, and glowing green eyes. He seemed much more cheery than the vampire outside, looking over to what seemed like his friend.

“Everything all right Thymós?” the vampire asked. “Are you getting thirsty?” 

“Get back inside Chara!” Thymós hissed.

“Huh? Why? I was just coming to check on yo- Oh hello!” Chara said, turning to look at Leon and Arlin. 

Arlin managed a wave but couldn’t say much else, despite Chara’s seeming kindness he was just too scared of everything happening to reciprocate. Chara tried to open the door but Thymós pushed him back inside, taking the two of them inside. Despite the door between the pairs, Arlin could still manage to hear a bit of their conversation. 

“What’s the problem?!” Chara asked. “If they’re asking about our services they could be potential customers!” 

“I don’t trust them.” Thymós barked.

“You don’t trust anyone!”

“That’s not true!” Thymós argued. “I trust you.”

“Well they don’t look so bad to me, you can trust that okay?”

Arlin didn’t hear Thymós say anything after but he could imagine him making a face of begrudging acceptance. The door swung open fully this time, revealing Chara with Thymós standing behind him. 

“Sorry about my friend, he’s not very people friendly.” Chara said, giving a side eye to Thymós. “Were you looking to hire us? We can hide people if that’s what you need.”

“Yes, that is exactly what we need.” Leon said. 

“Then come inside! We’ll get everything sorted out.” 

Chara held the door open for the two of them to enter, Leon looked back to Arlin who still seemed apprehensive. He gave Arlin’s hand a little squeeze, giving him just enough confidence to enter the building. Inside the first thing that Arlin noticed was that the floor was no longer on an incline. It was the first time since entering the city that he actually had stable ground to stand on. Arlin gave a big sigh of relief, he hated having to make sure not to accidentally fall down hill while walking.

Chara laughed a bit. “It’s nice right? The streets can be a pain sometimes.”

He caught Arlin a bit off guard. “Y-yeah, is it because of how the house is built?”

“Yep! Most of the houses around here I built to be level against the incline. You wouldn’t want to accidentally roll off your bed in your sleep.” he said, giving a little smile. 

“I suppose it is obvious we are not from around here?” Leon asked. 

“Yeah.” Thymós chimed in. “Anyone could tell with how you were walking around the alleys.”

“Thymós is probably right, people around here have an eye for people who don’t belong.” Chara said.

“I apologize, we came here in a hurry.” Leon explained. “We are in need of your assistance.” 

“Right!” Chara exclaimed. “What can we help you with?”

Leon looked to Arlin expectantly, seeing if the young vampire wanted to take the lead. Arlin noticed and panicked, he wasn’t sure what to say or even do in this situation. He just looked down to the ground, keeping quiet so Leon would hopefully forget he was there. Leon sighed and looked back to Chara and Thymós.

“A certain group is searching for us, we are in need of a safe place to stay without them finding us.” Leon explained. 

“I see.” Chara said, processing the request. “How long do you need to be hidden for?”

Leon looked to Arlin for a moment, still unresponsive. “I am unsure, mostly indefinitely.”

Chara thought for a moment. “Hmm, that will be difficult. Is there any other information you could give us? It could help us find the right place for you.” 

“I can not.” Leon replied, blankly.

“Oh bullshit you can’t.” Thymós said, pushing past Chara and getting up in Leon’s face. “I’ve got a question for you wolf man, who the hell is after you?”

“I would rather that information stay with me and my comrade.”

“If you don’t tell us who’s after you, we’re not doing this job for you.”

“Hold on Thymós.” Chara said. “That’s their business, if they don’t want to tell us then we should respect that.”

“Think about it Chara.” He turned around and looked to his friend. “If they’re being chased by some people who are bad news, that could put the two of us in danger.”

“Yes but-”

Chara was quickly cut off by Thymós. “Tell us who’s after you or no deal.” 

Leon inhaled sharply. “Fine, if that is what it will take then I will tell you.” he stated. “We are being pursued by the High Coven, they are trying to find and capture us.”

“Oh hell no.” Thymós growled. “We’re not getting involved with High Coven business.” 

Leon actually seemed to panic. “Just a moment, I will compensate you handsomely for your services.”

“Keep your coin! We’re not putting our necks on the line for people we don’t know!” 

The tension was rising, it was clear on the faces of everyone there. Thymós’s eyebrows were furrowed and his fangs were barred, like he was ready to fight and wanted everyone to know. Leon tried to stay stoic but his frustration was sneaking through, the corners of his mouth tipped down in a frown. Arlin found it harder and harder to simply ignore what was happening, his anxiety was building and he felt himself on the edge of a spiral. 

“Hold on Thymós!” Chara interjected. “If we don’t help them, who will? Let’s just talk things out.”

Thymós turned to Chara, his expression softening when looking at him. “It’s too dangerous, Chara, and for what? So we can help this wild beast and his creepy kid?!”

“Don’t call him that!” Arlin blurted out, shaking himself out of his stupor. 

“Oh look at that, it actually speaks. What the hell are you going to do about it?”

Arlin’s hair bristled, a rage bubbling up from deep within him. He stepped back, his posture lowering as his claws were readied. At this point, both Arlin and Thymós were ready for a fight.

“Arlin.” Leon said, more on edge than before. “Calm down.”

“Y-yes, let’s all just settle down.” Chara stammered out. 

“No Chara.” Thymós said. “I think we’re done here.”

“That’s fine with me.” Arlin said, beginning to carefully exit the room. 

“Arlin, don’t.” Leon said, sternly. 

“Wait!” Chara called. “You don’t need to go, we can still talk this over!”

Chara ran over, attempting to stop Arlin from leaving. In a panic, he grabbed the young vampire’s arm to try to get him to listen. That however, was a mistake. It wasn’t intended, it was all just instinct. Arlin was still on edge, ready to defend himself at a moment's notice. As Chara grabbed his arm, his body acted before his mind could even understand what was happening. Arlin’s claws slashed upward and racked across Chara’s arm.

“Ah!” Chara yelled, grabbing his arm in pain. 

He stumbled backward, the unexpected attack throwing him off balance. Thymós ran over and caught his friend, his face quickly changing from anger to concern.

“Chara!” his gaze switched to Arlin, the rage in his face returning. “You bastard!”

Arlin had just realized what had happened, his anger fading as he looked at what he’d done. Chara was lying in Thymós’s arms, in pain from the injury that Arlin inflicted on him. The gashes were deep, dark crimson blood bubbling out and beginning to pool on the floor underneath him. Chara looked at him with fear, his green eyes dimming as his body shook in fear. 

This isn’t what he wanted, Arlin looked in fear and terror, but not at Chara or Thymós. He didn’t know what to do, his breathing quickened and his body felt like ice. Without even thinking, he took off, throwing the door of the building open and charging down the alley.

“Arlin! No!” Leon yelled as the boy took off. 

Everything in his body was telling him to go, to just run as fast as he could and get out of there. As he went into the alleyways, everyone looked at him, their gaze turning to the panicking child running away. He could hear them all, his senses seeming to spike as the fear took over him. They whispered to each other: “Who is that boy?” “Why is he running?” “What is he doing here?” Arlin covered his ears, trying to shut it all out but he couldn’t. It was all too much. 

He needed to get away, away from everything. Looking around, he tried finding somewhere quiet, where no one could find him. Racing through the uneven streets, he began to trip and stumble, his feet getting caught in each bump and crack in the road. He took a careless turn into another alley but ended up fully falling as his foot got caught on one of the uneven stones beneath him. He slammed into the ground with a sharp thud, landing on his side right on his rib. The pain shot through him, rattling through his bones and flowing back out through the rest of his being. It hurt, he could already feel the bruise forming as the pulsing numbness took over his senses. Yet another scar he’d have to bear.

The sound of footsteps approaching the alleyway brought him back to reality, quickly scrambling behind a box to hide. Peeking over the side he saw a small group of people looking around, seemingly drawn by the commotion he caused. They took a glance down the alleyway he was in, Arlin quickly ducking down to be out of sight. The small group seemed to pass, leaving Arlin completely and totally alone. 

He covered his face with his hands. “Why am I like this?” His voice shaking as he felt tears running down his cheeks.

He curled up into a ball, trying to make himself as small as possible. He didn’t want to be seen, he just wanted to disappear. 

Running away again? Don’t you learn anything?

A chill covered the area, as if the place was sinking deeper into shadow itself. Into Null. Arlin didn’t want to look up, but he did anyway, and his fears were made real. Across from him in the alley was a formless shade, blacker than black, darker than dark. 

“No no no no…” Arlin stuttered out in disbelief. “You can’t be out here, you’re only in the Null.”

Am I? Are you really sure about that? You already heard my voice before.

He wanted to deny it but it was true, that presence was there before when he fought the Beast. He’d know it anywhere, especially after all those nights spent in the Null. 

“Just go away, I want to be alone.”

Alone? But you don’t like being alone. How is this any worse?

“It’s worse because it’s with you!” 

There’s no need to be angry, why are you so aggravated?

“I know you, you already know why.”

I do, I just wanted to ask you. I also wanted to ask you why you attacked that person?

“It wasn’t me! I didn’t want to do that!”

But you did, and it was with your own hands that you did it, not anyone else's. 

“It wasn’t what I wanted, I just did it without thinking!”

Hurting people is a bad thing to do without thinking, can you really not control yourself?

“I can! It was just a mistake!”

Mistake? So it could have been anyone then. Would you have done that to Leon?

“No!” Arlin screamed, panicked. “I would never do something like that to him!”

Of course not, you would never do something like that on your own. But you’re always making mistakes, mistakes that get people hurt. What do you think your running did? Do you think that helped him? 

“You’re wrong, just shut up!”

Why? Don’t you want to hear the truth? 

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Arlin cried, trying to cover his ears and block it all out.

I’m sorry but this isn’t something you can run from, you need to accept it. No matter if you intend to or not, you hurt people. 

It was all so much for Arlin, he wanted it to go away. So he did the only thing he could think of, he started to bite his own hand. He tried to replace this stress with something else, something he was used to, pain. His fangs sank into his skin, piercing pass and hitting blood. The first blood he ever tasted as his own, the pungent stink of iron filling his lungs. He hated it, he hated that his body was accustomed to it. But it was better than having to face the Null, that was something he could not do.

Fine, I’ll leave you. For now anyway. Good luck.

The pressure over the area faded, the color of the world returned and that pit in Arlin’s stomach was gone. He breathed in and out, but all he could smell was iron. He slowly took his fangs out of his hand, the blood now pouring out from his hand and dripping from his mouth. 

“Arlin!”

He heard a call from the entrance to the alleyway, swinging his head over he saw a familiar face, Leon. For the first time Arlin saw that Leon’s stoic demeanor was broken, his face filled with a mix of fear and anger. He looked over Arlin, seeing a boy who was scared and injured. He marched over and stood over Arlin. 

“Do not ever run away like that again!” his voice boomed.

The loudness was something Arlin didn’t expect, he looked down, he expected to be striked so he braced himself.

“I’m sorry.” Arlin whimpered. 

Leon softened, he reached out to Arlin but stopped himself, instead deciding to sit down next to him. 

“I apologize for raising my voice at you.” he said. “You scared me when you ran off, I thought I had lost you.”

“Are…are those people coming after us?”

“No, Thymós seemed to be more concerned with caring for his father rather than pursuing us.”

“I messed up.” Arlin said, still looking away from Leon. 

“I will not lie to you, you did. Chara was willing to talk things out and I believe it was a possibility. It was a mistake of yours to act so rashly.”

Arlin fell silent, he didn’t know how to respond, sorry seemed redundant at this point. Leon seemed to exhale, trying to let out all of the emotion that had built up over such a short time. 

“You are injured.” Leon said. “May I please see your hand?”

Arlin showed him, the blood had begun to stop pouring out but he had already lost a good amount of blood. Leon reached into his bag and pulled out some bandages and a damp cloth.

“This might sting a little.” he warned.

Leon started to clean the wound with the cloth, it stung but it was nothing that Arlin couldn’t handle. The cloth began to stain, turning red as the blood soaked into it.

“It is not a sin for a child to make a mistake, only to not learn from it.”

He finished and began to bandage the wound, making sure it wouldn’t come undone easily.

“Please do not run off like that again, if you were to end up somewhere dangerous and I wasn’t there I am not sure what I would do.”

“I won’t do that again.” Arlin said. “I panicked, I’ll try to keep my head straight in the future.”

“Good, I will try to not put you in situations that will cause you to panic. I did not properly prepare you before we entered the back alleys.”

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine as long as I’m with you Leon.”

Leon smiled. “I’m glad. Now, we should get going, how is your hand feeling?”

“It’s better.” Arlin rubbed the bandages. “I can handle it.”

“Alright then, come with me.” Leon said, holding out his hand. 

Arlin took Leon’s hand as the two of them began walking together. Once again, Leon made sure to put Arlin’s hood up as well as his own, it was clear that after the commotion Arlin caused they didn’t want to be seen. Looking around it seemed that things had died down for the most part, some were still looking around but Arlin made sure to put his head down when they got close. Everything however, was quiet for the most part. 

That was until they made their way out of the back alleys. They heard it first, the sounds of a crowd yelling and booing. Arlin looked to Leon, very clearly wanting to check it out. Leon nodded and the two of them silently got closer to the sounds. Turning the corner they both quickly saw the cause of the stir, a horned girl with red hair was being held up by the arm by a Coven Guard. 

“Finally caught you, little thief.” 

She struggled to break out but couldn’t, looking around for anyone who could help. Her eyes darted around as they finally settled on Arlin, both of their eyes meeting. The glace shared a single request. Help.

[liverobinreaction]

“Thank you so so much for reading and enjoying it so much!! Though I'm curious, do you have a favourite scene?? Let me know!!”

Ohhh I have a BUNCH of scenes that I really loved!! I loved pretty much everything going on in the last chapter- it was touching to see Tim share so many intimate moments with his family. Something I love about his character, and something that I think you captured really well, is that he’s. Y’know. He’s definitely an unreliable narrator! Throughout your entire story, he saw himself as very “other.” Separate from his family, separate from his friends, separate from death and, so he thinks, from the trauma that comes with it- and in that last chapter we get to see his family say “no actually, you are loved whether you like it or not!” The entire chapter just captured this really nice, quietly hopeful tone- I loved it!

Another thing that I really loved (but was more of a like… background thing?) was Tim’s relationship with the violin. I think it’s just. Ugh I’ve thought about this a lot and am looking for words. I love how it can symbolize his relationship with his parents- it’s this thing that they are abstractly proud of (in a bit of a “look how gifted our heir is” way) but for Tim it shifts from a way to make his parents look at him into something that he actually, genuinely loves. The way that his mother, in particular, absently asked him to learn pieces for her only to never listen is heartbreaking and such a clever way of representing their relationship as a whole- of Tim putting in hours of effort, and of his parents thinking of him only passingly.

The violin also feels like one of the first things that Tim really LOSES as a result of all of those deaths. Or at least- one of the first things he registers the loss of. After Titan’s tower, when he comes back but his fingers are broken- UGH! Throughout the entire story, he minimizes his own pain- brushing it off as not real or as something that doesn’t count because he never DIES. But this is a real, physical wound that doesn’t heal- this is something that his death’s have taken from him- because his pain IS real and DOES matter. Chef’s kiss.

(There is also, of course, that throwaway line from Jason’s pov about how Jason had only ever heard Tim playing the violin badly. Jason doesn’t know that Tim once was very good! And that Jason is the reason he now struggles! My poor fucked up boys <3 )

First of all, sorry it took me so long to reply to this, I've been savouring it in my inbox as extra inspiration and encouragement, because your analysis is just. Chefs kiss. I'm so so glad you enjoyed so many scenes and picked them apart!!! It's always so so nice to see how someone reads a scene and interprets it. Delicious.

YESSS I loved writing the intimate moments between Tim and the Batfam. I love deconstructing a relationship between two characters to put it under a lens and see how exactly it functions and why. More than that, I'm so so happy to see you enjoy the unreliable narrator. It's one of my favourite devices to use, because it just adds that hint of uncertainty. Tim loves his family, but he's seen himself as 'other' for so long (you were SPOT on) that he can't help but distance himself. To him, he's not quite a human (and I actually have a story in the works that looks at this even deeper) and therefore isn't allowed to suffer in the same ways as a human. He is, you see, deeply stupid. So having his family, and Cass especially, confront him and tell him how harmful this view is not only to himself, but the people he loves, kicks his ass into gear!

THANK YOU! The violin was actually going to play a much bigger role, but my hands began wandering, and it fell to the wayside. It's very much a symbol of Tim as a child and caught between the wishes of the people he loves and his own desires. You are once again spot on in your observation of it symbolising his relationship with his parents. In the epilogue that I'll someday get to writing, he picks it up again as a way to reconnect his turbulent childhood and impossible expectations, with the love he feels for the instrument and the audience surrounding him that is willing to listen. Something, something, a family that doesn't expect him to play but still wants to listen, something, something, parallels with Jack and Janet.

And YES YES YES, the violin IS the first thing he really loses as a result of his powers. Or more accurately, it's the first thing he really views as 'worth something' that he loses. There's a paragraph I didn't include in the main story where Tim recognises how he's not angry about dying, and isn't even that mad about dying as Robin. The thing he can't forgive Jason for is breaking his fingers. I used to play violin and cello, and let me tell you, stiff fingers make it incredibly difficult to play. So Jason has taken away the one thing that Tim made his own, without even knowing it. And yet he doesn't have the time to mourn it. Not really.

Your addition KILLED ME, because I completely forgot about that part. YOU'RE RIGHT. He never knows how talented Tim was with the violin, and unfortunately due to the lingering damage to his fingers, Jason may never know. It depends on how much I want to torture these two idiot boys <3

As always, thank you so so much for this ask, it's absolutely GLORIOUS

[invisibleraven]

Sick days for PeterPatterLina please and thank you

The first thing Julie thought when she woke up was how much every part of her hurt. It felt like a bone deep ache that radiated through her entire being. She didn't think she had pushed herself any harder than normal at the gym the day before, but maybe she had?

Only the ache didn't go away even after a long hot shower and some pain meds. Thankfully she didn't have anywhere to be, but still, she had hoped to be a little productive on her day off, not clutching a hot water bottle on the couch.

Worse was that the guys were both out today; Reggie had taken the kids to a farm outside the city to see the animals, maybe see if he could convince Danny to pet a horse. Luke was doing some guitar work as a studio musician for an up and coming band they had met at some function or another.

So Julie had the house to herself and couldn't even take advantage. Instead she got herself some of her favourite feel better snacks and turned on the cheesiest rom com she could find.

She eventually drifted off, but woke up still hurting all over and started to worry. What if something was really wrong? She dragged herself up, and grabbed her phone.

Julie: Don't want to worry either of you, but I really don't feel well, gonna get papi to bring me in to get checked out.

Reggie: We're on our way home now anyways angel, sit tight and I'll drop the kids off to papi and bring you in myself.

Luke: I've got one last track to finish up, just let me know where you end up and I'll be there as soon as I can boss.

Reggie was home soon afterwards and froze when he saw Julie laying there on the couch. "Hey darlin', not feeling too hot?"

She shook her head, hissing a little when he scooped her up, patting him gently on his chest when he started to apologize non-stop. "It's okay cariño, I just hurt everywhere."

"You didn't do that at yoga yesterday though," Reggie commented, securing her in the passenger seat of their sedan.

"It's probably nothing, but I'd rather know then not," Julie said. "Now distract me with stories of the farm."

Reggie offered her a smile, even if it didn't reach his eyes, regaling her of how Danny now wanted a horse and Luna had almost caught a chicken. "Apparently they have a 4H club at their school, I'm gonna see if they can join, they'd love it."

"And see if they need parent volunteers while you're there?" Julie teased. Reggie flushed but she knew that meant yes. They were in between albums now anyways, it would be great for him to get involved in something involving the great outdoors before they missed daylight once they got stuck back in the studio.

They registered at the local hospital, and Luke joined them after a half hour, clutching Julie's hand in his, Reggie's in the other. None of them were fans of the hospital, and more than a little worried. Especially after all the tests they ran on Julie with no answers.

Finally they were called back, the doctor not even reacting to there being three of them. But nothing could prepare them for what he said next.

"We found a tumor in your ovary Mrs. Molina," the doctor said. "We are hopeful that it's benign, but we'd have to do a biopsy to make sure. If it is, it'll be a simple surgery to remove it. If not..."

"I know," Julie replied. "My mom... she went through it all. She didn't make it."

"I'm sorry to hear that," the doctor said. "But let's not dwell on that right now. We'll schedule your biopsy, and take each step as it comes, okay?"

Julie nodded, hands clenched, barely feeling her husband's hands on her. The words were muffled, the world sideways. She couldn't register anything, not even being guided home, two anxious faces sat beside her as she started to cry.

Most of the rest of that night was a blur to Julie. she was sure at some point her dad showed up, Victoria with food in tow, not that she could even think about eating. She tried to be normal for Danny and Luna, but she was also sure they could feel the tension in the air, and they treated her like she was made of glass.

Luke carried her to bed that night while Reggie tucked in the kids, the three of them eventually gathered in a tearful huddle in the bed as they made plans. Discussed what would happen if the worst should happen.

None of them slept very much that night.

The day of the biopsy, Julie was wide awake long before dawn, staring out the window. Luke and Reggie were curled around her, Danny and Luna down by their feet, the whole family wanting to be together the night prior.

"Mami," Julie prayed. "Please... look after them if I can't."

"Don't talk like that," Luke murmured. "It'll be alright."

"And if it's not, there's lots of options," Reggie said, yawning around the words. "You're not going anywhere, we won't let you."

"I don't think you have any control over that hun," Julie chuckled.

Reggie and Luke just clutched her tighter, as if that would keep her there. Like their love would make it all better, and Julie sorely wished it would.

She doesn't remember much about the trip to the hospital, or going under. Only awakening in a private room with four anxious faces holding flowers, balloons, and stuffed animals. Hugging her family close and starting the next part; the worst part-all the waiting for the results.

The next few weeks were fraught, and Julie jumped every time her phone rang. She tried writing song after song, with the guys helping when she broke down or screamed in frustration, tossing the notebook at the wall.

Finally the call came, and Julie was sure she cracked her phone screen from how tightly she was gripping it.

"Mrs. Molina? The tumor was benign."

"Oh thank God," Julie breathed out.

"We're very happy to report that we found no pre-cancerous signs either, so we can schedule a time for us to get the rest of it out and that should take care of the pain."

Julie thanked the doctor profusely, setting up a follow up appointment and turned to her family, full of smiles.

"I'm okay," she breathed out.

There was a lot of cheering, crying, and hugs that night.

And Julie slept surrounded by her family once more, not wanting to be apart from them any longer than she had to. They clung to her, and maybe there was something to their love keeping her there. So Julie hugged them back just as tight, determined to stick around for as long as fate would let her.

[fragileizy]

out of absolute nowhere am i thinking about gwen again after leaving her dad and joining spider society; she's quiet, and the adrenaline of being in a new place just dips. she thinks about her dad, her lack of a mom, she thinks of her peter (god, does she think about her peter), and thinks about how her house— her home— her bedroom is all gone.

there's nothing left.

she finds herself a tiny little corner in miguel's office/brooding area, unsure of what to do, thinking about her dad. her dad. held up at gunpoint by her dad. her dad. here, miguel's office, is the most quiet place all of the spider society, because nueva york is filled with noise, and for once she just wants the deafening silence.

miguel tosses her an empanada one day.

"you don't eat," he says, before she's even asked. she's caught it, of course, because reflexes and spider and things are generally best when caught when things are thrown in someone's general direction. its from the cafeteria. it's warm.

"i haven't been feeling hungry all that much," she mumbles.

he leaves it at that. it's nice, knowing that someone's noticed, but all she can afford is to nibble at her food.

it stays that way for a while. every day, she hides in there; jessica tries to get her out, talks to her, but she keeps retreating. over and over, like clockwork, people try. jessica, trying to get her to come onto missions with her and learn how to be a functional member; peter (peter, peter is here, maybe he'll understand, maybe he'll—) with... mayday. he's a father now. mayday looks so happy with her father. they come often, and she says hello, and she tries to smile, but peter notices the sunken eyes. depression leaks out of her like waves. mayday is so happy to sit in her lap, completely unaware of how broken gwen is.

miguel tosses empanadas every day up there, like a coffee run. each one is different— he probably orders whatever is in the glass case, uninterested in the actual flavour— and she deals with it. blue cheese. spinach. pork. beef. she has a personal vendetta against the salmon one. each one, she nibbles on, doing something to pass the time.

a day comes, and instead of tossing it up and leaving her like that, turning back to his monitors, miguel throws it onto her ledge, sits on his own platform, and waits. waits, and waits, and waits. she's seen his patience, surprisingly long for a man who loves to aggressively snap at anyone— a passionate man, it seems— so when she doesn't budge, and his face settles into the most neutral expression she's ever seen, anxiety starts to build.

"what?" she blurts out.

"eat."

"i will."

"no. now."

"not hungry," she explains, though poorly, because he doesn't even blink.

"i don't care. eat."

"why?"

"because i used to be a father," he replies, blunt and swift, "and i know when a child is grieving."

oh.

"you're a father—"

"'was'. eat. maybe you'll like ham."

she's quick to look up from the styrofoam packaging. "have you been ordering different types on purpose?"

"i didn't know if you were a picky eater."

tears swell up at her waterline. "why... are you helping me?"

"you're sad." this man has no capabilities to be just calm about something, can he? the way he says it just sounds so aggressive, almost like he's imploring her to be sad just so that he'll be right. then, he sighs, broad shoulders going down, something like remorse on his face. "being a spiderman is hard. don't suffer through it on your own."

"i just don't want to bother anyone," she mumbles. "i don't have anywhere to go if this goes to hell, you know? what if i have too many issues?"

a humorless laugh graces his wide lips. "if there's one thing spidermen are good at, it's having issues. you won't be bothering anyone."

"you're busy all the time. with your monitors, and stuff."

"i'll be a good listener until i won't be. and i'll be a terrible person when it comes to advice. trust me, i know. you've seen the way jessica and peter have to reel me back in." he waits until she's done sniffling into her spider suit she's yet to take off, wiping her tears on the back of her hand. "but i created spider society so that we don't have to suffer through things alone. so. talk."

[greypetrel]

Sorry I missed this yesterday! "i'll feel better once you're out of this." for Aisling/Cullen! c:

Hey Mo! ✨

Don’t worry about being late! :3 I’m replying late as well after all, LOL!

I was very indecisive between what you got and another take… But the more I wrote on the other the grumpier about it I got. So yeah, this is brief, but it makes me cringe less (and I know that when I get like this, either I turn something around, or you’ll see this prompt maybe the next month and I would still hate it to bits), I hope you’ll like it!

Tis the prompt list.

Jump.

"i'll feel better once you're out of this."

Nobody ever expected the Emprise du Lion to be easy to conquer, but this was getting worse than every one of the more fatalistic expectations Cullen could have had nightmares about.

Because of course the last red lyrium pit had been closed off, the Templars making all the entrances to the cave it was set in explode and trapping themselves in before getting caught.

And of course they brought prisoners with them, so leaving them to the sad, gruesome destiny wasn’t really an option. They had to enter, and quickly. Comes in Scout Harding, who informed them of the chimney. And here we are now.

Cullen looks down the almost vertical tunnel that brings air to the cave mine down below, with a frown. He’s sceptical of the plan, particularly so because, of course, Aisling wants to go down first. Because of course. Some days, he hates how reckless she can be: he knows she’s competent and good, and he knows that she made sense in her decision She’s the only one that could hold her own against a group, defending herself from all around with a barrier and fade-stepping away, and attacking without burning precious air, which made Dorian the last but one of the line, since he had to rely on necromancy only and thus needed some people to be already dead to be functional. He knows and he agreed it’s the best plan they get. Still, she’ll be on her own for some minutes -too many, in his opinion- with a band of Templars, and he couldn’t help but worry. All that he could actively do right then, tho, was frowning angrily at the tunnels and at the Templars down below, as if they could see him glaring at them.

“Managed to dig a better tunnel with a scowl?” Aisling chirps from his left, and as he turns, she’s already harnessed in rope and padding closer to him, breath coming in silvery puffs before her smile, cheeks and nose reddened by the cold.

“The rock refuses to bend.” He replies, drily.

“Keep going, maybe it just needs some more scowling.” She giggles, stopping close to the border and tugging at the rope to check if the knots are secure.

He turns and helps her in the task, placing a hand on her shoulder to keep her steady as the other tugs more firmly at the knot on the centre of her belly, testing its resistance and strength and venting out some irritation at this whole plan.  It isn’t her first time fighting Templars, he got her a rapier with a physical, metal blade just in case, that now hangs from her belt beside the spirit hilt. They are all ready. And yet.

“My knots are always secure, just ask Dorian.” The Qunari scoffs from behind them promptly swatted by said Mage, with another scoff that would melt rock. “Ouch! What did I say?”

“Privacy, you horned doofus!”

Cassandra lets out a disgusted noise, stepping away from them as far as she can. Which is little, considering they’re all tying themselves up and she’s the first in line, right after Aisling and before Bull.

“As if you didn’t like it! We all heard you, Fancypants!” Mocks him Sera, the last of the line of climbers, elbowing the mage in his ribs. Dorian just scowls at her, but doesn’t reply, and he can see Aisling biting down a smile, sincerely happy at how bad their friends are hiding whatever’s going on between them.

She turns on him after a moment, tho, face softening at him and stepping closer, hands coming to fix his cloak.

“I’ll be very careful and stick to the plan. As soon as I’ll get down, a round of small lightning to stun them, with all that metal in their armours it’ll be easy to get more than one at the same time with minimum effort. Cast a barrier right after and get my back against something solid. Duck Behemoths, they’re slower, and concentrates on rogues and archers first. If they silence me, roll and cover and tug the rope, wait for Cassandra, I have the rapier and a couple of other daggers around. Stick to the plan, don’t do anything crazy.” She recites.

It’s the fifth time, but instead of being out of patience, she’s calm and soft, as much as she can as she closes down his cloak before him, tugging it so he gets the message and bends down. As soon as he’s in comfortable reach, she cups his face in both hands and squishes his cheeks.

“It’ll be fine, you lovely, lovely over-worrier. We’ve been in worse situations that I’ll be glad to remind you of later, one by one.”

“Please, don’t.” He chuckles, leaning in on her right, with a smile as he closes his hands on her wrists. She hops on the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his lips, as sweet and loving as she can -and it’s quite a lot- dragging it on a little more than necessary and, at the same time, way too little.

From their side, there’s a chorus of yucks and a loud cheer from Bull, all their friends reminding them to please cut it off with the honey and that they don’t have all day or the stomach to bear with so much sugar. Aisling ignores them altogether, still smiling at him with love as she breaks the kiss.

“Will you be fine?”

“I’ll be fine when you’ll be out of it.” He grumbles, with less of the animosity of before.

“Well then…” She sighs, and with a last quick kiss on the tip of his nose, she steps back towards the tunnel, unfastening her staff from the back harness, and yet not looking away from him. “Sooner I get in, sooner I get out, no?”

Cullen knows the smile is a show, and that she’s trying to convince herself that she’s not going down to butcher some people. She told him the first night he arrived there and she slipped in his tend and pounced at him as soon as scouts and lieutenants left him for the night, that she hates the place, and she can’t but think that every single Behemoth she fells it’s him, in another time and turn of events, and she hates it, but she has to do it anyway, and she can’t wait for it to be all over. He knows, by now, that Aisling is upkeep and cheerful not only for the others, but for herself as well. There are times for sadness, but those are the times when she can sit down and stay with her melancholy and her tears, like old companions. This is not it. So, he smiles back, glomps down worry and all protective instincts that would make him snatch her out of the harness and jump in himself instead of sending her down, and remembers she’s the Inquisitor, she’s there because she’s qualified. They’re in a war and they have parts to play. It’s a game of chess, nothing more, nothing less, and the Queen is wasted if kept on the side of the board.

He smiles at her, straightening his spine and crossing his hands behind his back and nods at her, encouragingly.

“May Andruil bless your hunt, Inquisitor.”

She smiles at him, in response, and this time it’s sincere.

“May her eyes not fall over you, Commander.”

And with that, she turns to the others, and after a solemn nod from Cassandra, she blows him a last kiss, winks -Dorian is definitely rubbing over her, but Cullen’s not complaining- and jumps down the tunnel, in a last flash of green and gold.

Cassandra shouts that’s too fast and to just wait, for the love of the Maker or whatever deity she would prefer not to make run after her, but all the reply the Seeker get is an echoing laughter from down below.

Maybe it is gonna be fine, after all.

[just-some-random-blogger]

“How many times is that today now?” She asks, gently tossing the phone to her as a missed call notification replaces the incoming call alert.

Mysaria hard carrying for aemond is still so girls girl of her. Bless her

She shrugs, not averting her gaze from the TV screen as a rerun of Come Dine with Me, that neither of them are particularly paying attention to, plays to itself. “Dunno. He’ll get the hint eventually.”

BUT IM SO PROUD OF HERRR!!!!! IM SO FUCKING HAPPY SHE ❌👅 ❌ IGNORED THAT RATTTTTTTT DESERRRVVVEEEEEEEEEEEE DESERVVEEEEEEE

It’s Sunday evening and she hasn’t spoken to Aemond since she woke up alone in his flat the previous morning, despite the fact he texts and calls her more times than she can count. She deletes the messages without reading them, and lets each of his calls go to voicemail. He’d made her feel cheap, used, put a price on her body, and she had no desire to ever speak to him again.

I LOVE THAT FOR YOUUUU

Mysaria sighs, flopping back against the sofa cushions. “Can I be a bitch for a second?” She asks, turning her head to face her. “You aren’t going to like it, but I think you need to hear it.”

Do it. My beloved girls girl. Even though I'm absolutely going to DESPISE LOATHE ABHOR EVERY MOMENT

“Why are you punishing him because you’ve caught feelings?”

DAMN. But 🤨 cos he deserves it??

Her annoyance bursts forth into anger as her brow furrows, her body language becoming squared and defensive. “I haven’t–”

YOU THINK YOU DONT LIKE HIM????? TANGA KA PALA EH BOBO NAKAKABWISIT KA TITI NG AMA MO ULOL GAGO HINAYUPAK

“Yes, you have,” Mysaria interrupts. “I get that he did a shitty thing by leaving you high and dry, but he clearly feels bad or he wouldn’t keep trying to reach you. Give the guy a chance to explain himself, if you don’t like what he has to say then break things off.”

No. I love you. Shut the fuck up. Ok maybe I'll do it but after I make him suffer a bit more

“Because I’m right,” Mysaria says smugly, leaning over to tap her on the nose. “You gonna call him back then?”

🙄 you are but I hate it shut the fuck up I won't call him. EW

“Erm…so it’s not pizza…” Mysaria says awkwardly as she re-enters the living room, a silver haired figure a good deal taller than her trailing behind her.

“You’ve not been returning my calls,” Aemond says flatly.

Aemond nods gratefully, taking the seat next to hear. “These are you for, by the way,” He tells her, handing her the flowers.

🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬YOU MUST THINK IM STUPID OF COURSE THEY'RE FOR ME IF THEY WERE FOR MYSARIA ID SKIN YOU ALIVE

“Listen, if the other night wasn’t good, or I hurt you–”

YOU KNOW HOW

LOUD

THE SOUND OF MY HAND SLAPPING ON MY MOUTH WAS??????

“Cheap? But I bank transferred you afterwards.”

IM SO FUCKING AGGRAVATED BY HIM WHAT THE FUCK GET THE FUCK OUT KF HERE YOU CHUFFER DALCOP 👺👺👺👺

“Yes!” She replies with exasperation. “You made me feel cheap, and used.”

LOUDER FOR THE BUFFOON IGNORAMUS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU

See this why I hate rich people they're so disconnected to reality and they use theyre money like it could fix the world WHICH US COULD BUT YOU CIRCLE BACK TO HE FACT THEYRE SO FUCKING STUPID AND DISCONNECTED

“No funny business, I promise. We don’t have to sleep together again, but I’ve enjoyed having your company at family functions, it makes them more bearable. Please say you’ll consider it?”

No. Get out of my house. I can't possibly answer your life altering question right now the same moment

She’s not sure what prompts the words from her mouth, perhaps it’s the pleading look in Aemond’s eye, or the fact that she enjoys his company too, but she says them before she fully has a chance to think about them. “Okay, we’ll carry on as before.”

🫤 fucking imbecile

“I suppose that’s my cue to leave,” Aemond says softly. “I’ll text you, okay?”

Don't text me get the fuck out of my house

FASTER BUDGET MALFOY

.... Ok considering he's rich I don't think that's a good insult. ITS A GREAT INSULT

She nods, and they both stand, hovering near each other, both unsure of what would be an appropriate goodbye. Eventually Aemond leans in, kissing the corner of her mouth lightly before pulling back and exiting the flat. She holds her fingers against the area, still able to feel the press of his lips even after he’s departed.

SEE YOU DID IT AGAIN. I DID NOT CONSENT. YOURE SUCH A COLONIZER ALL YOU DO IS TAKE WHAT YOU WANT AND DONT THINK ABOUT THE CONSEQUENCES OF YOUR ACTIONS 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️ YOU THINK WITH YOUR DICK AND EVERYTHING IS A CASUALTY. YES IN A VILLAIN BUT YOURE A MAN. EVEN AT THE DATE YOU JUST PULLED HER CLOSE. YEAH IR WAS GREAT BUT FUCK YOU IT WOULD HAVE BEEN GREATER HAD YOU ASKKKKKKKEDDDDD

Yeah, I’m free :) xoxo

The only xo this man deserves is the xo in extermination.GET A GRIP GURL

Aegon merely holds up a hand by way of greeting, looking less than enthusiastic to be there, [...]

AEGON I TRUST YOU STEAL ME AWAY

“It would mean having to switch off their Playstation, so I very much doubt it,” Rhaenyra says with a roll of her eyes.

😬😬😬😬😬😬🤢🤢🤢🤢 PLAYSTATION SONS I HATE THAT FOR YOU RHAENYRA

“You’ll be okay for a moment won’t you, darling?” Aemond asks her.

🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃 Im convinced this man is insane. SIR YOUVE MET YOUR FAMILY WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU LEAVING ME THE FUCKKKKKK??????

Aegon has sidled up to her, beer in hand, a slight smirk on his face. “Having fun?”

NO 🤬. 💞💞💞💞💞 Aegonnnn 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 HI..PLS HELP ME.

“At least you’re getting paid to be here.”

“You play a convincing part,” He takes a swig from his bottle. “Too good to be acting, actually. You can’t fake how you look at my brother.”

Ok. I guess I can't trust you. Nah that's on me 💩💩💩 I knew men were shit and I still opened my heart to the possibility of them not being that

“Incestuous?” Aegon lets out a laugh that borders on being too unhinged to come from a place of genuine mirth, before taking another swig of his beer. “Yeah, yeah, it is.”

🤢🤢🤢🤢🤚🤚🤚 at least he's self aware

Wait I the part about the canon rhaenyra alicent event got eaten. I just wanted to say I get rhaenyra but she's being a petty cretin about it and as a petty cretin myself that is not the way to go.... Or maybe it is.... IDK THIS FAMILY NEEDS THERAPY but we all already knew that

Luke smirks, elbowing Aemond. “He should be careful, almost had your other eye out.”

Rhaenyra your demon spawn needs a leash what the fuck is that. Go aemond BEAT HIS ASS

She buries her hands into the softness of his hair as he latches his mouth against her, bringing her to quick release with harsh strokes of his tongue. Every thought of what they’d discussed on Sunday evening leaves her mind as he pushes her back against the mattress, the force of his thrusts inside of her causing her toes to curl and her eyes to roll back, until he eventually collapses against her with a grunt, the faint pulsation of him inside of her signifying he’s reached his end.

Annnnddd now we're fucking 🫤 it be like that I guess. Go give us nothing queen

“Your mattress is fucking terrible,” Aemond grouses sleepily, pulling her tighter against him. “It feels like I’ve slept on a pile of loose change.”

❓❓❓❓❓❓ Then leave❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓ sleep in your own bed❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓ buy better sheets❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓ buy a better bed❓❓❓❓❓❓❓ I mean money fixes everything right❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓

He clears his throat, setting down his own knife and fork, before slowly wiping his mouth on a napkin. “I can’t do that,” He says quietly.

This is your cue to throw him out the window btw

Aemond reaches across the table, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re perfect,” He reassures her. “But I’m not, and I don’t do relationships. My circumstances are too complicated, I’d end up hurting you, and that’s the very last thing I want to do.”

GIRL HE SAID IT HIMSELF. RUN.

RUN

RUN 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️💨💨💨💨💨

“Can you…can you just go, please?” She whispers, unable to look at him.

FINALLY SOEM FUCKIGN SENSE

Only after she hears the front door click closed, and the feel of his lips have faded from her skin, does she allow herself to fall apart. Hot tears cascade down her cheeks, as she feels the presence that has taken up so much of her life leave behind a gaping void in its wake.

😔😔😔😔💔💔💔💔💔 ok I still feel for you tho. Ngl he had us in the first half. He had good dick game but not good enough. SOO LA VOO

Who Taught You How to Love Like That? - Chapter Four

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person) Warnings: Sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics. Smut. Oral (f receiving). Angst. Word count: ~3.5k

Series masterlist

Chapter summary: An understanding is reached and Aegon dishes family dirt at a BBQ.

Author's note: I don't have a tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

Her phone vibrates on the coffee table, the buzzing causing it to move dangerously close to the edge. Quick as a flash, Mysaria lunges forward from the sofa to catch it before it topples to the floor, smirking when she sees the name that’s flashing up on the screen.

“How many times is that today now?” She asks, gently tossing the phone to her as a missed call notification replaces the incoming call alert.

She shrugs, not averting her gaze from the TV screen as a rerun of Come Dine with Me, that neither of them are particularly paying attention to, plays to itself. “Dunno. He’ll get the hint eventually.”

It’s Sunday evening and she hasn’t spoken to Aemond since she woke up alone in his flat the previous morning, despite the fact he texts and calls her more times than she can count. She deletes the messages without reading them, and lets each of his calls go to voicemail. He’d made her feel cheap, used, put a price on her body, and she had no desire to ever speak to him again.

Mysaria sighs, flopping back against the sofa cushions. “Can I be a bitch for a second?” She asks, turning her head to face her. “You aren’t going to like it, but I think you need to hear it.”

She leans her head back, eyes flitting to meet her flatmate’s, already feeling a prickle of annoyance heat her skin, but decides to let her say her piece. “Go on then.”

“Why are you punishing him because you’ve caught feelings?”

Her annoyance bursts forth into anger as her brow furrows, her body language becoming squared and defensive. “I haven’t–”

“Yes, you have,” Mysaria interrupts. “I get that he did a shitty thing by leaving you high and dry, but he clearly feels bad or he wouldn’t keep trying to reach you. Give the guy a chance to explain himself, if you don’t like what he has to say then break things off.”

She scoffs in frustration, turning back towards the TV and rolling her eyes. “You are so bloody annoying!”

“Because I’m right,” Mysaria says smugly, leaning over to tap her on the nose. “You gonna call him back then?”

She chews her lip absentmindedly, turning her phone around in her hands. She supposes it wouldn’t hurt to reach out to him, if only to ask how to return the five grand he’d transferred to her.

The buzzer to the flat startles her out of her train of thought and Mysaria peels herself off of the sofa with a groan of “Finally! I’m bloody starving!”

Pizza first, then she’ll call him. She’s definitely not putting it off, she reasons with herself, she just doesn’t want her food to go cold.

“Erm…so it’s not pizza…” Mysaria says awkwardly as she re-enters the living room, a silver haired figure a good deal taller than her trailing behind her.

Dread gnaws at her stomach as she takes in the sight of Aemond, hair thrown back in a bun, dressed in a tight black henley and fitted black jeans, holding the largest bouquet of lilies and roses she’s ever seen before. Even when she’s angry with him he still manages to look absolutely breathtaking, and it irritates her.

“I’ll just…uh…” Mysaria makes a gesture towards her bedroom, and quickly makes herself scarce.

Lucky bitch.

“You’ve not been returning my calls,” Aemond says flatly.

“No…” She responds quietly, feeling the warmth of embarrassment spread through her, as she plucks nervously at the legs of her jogging bottoms. He’s never seen her not put together, and she loathes that she feels shame for her appearance, when she hasn’t done anything wrong. Him seeing her with messy hair, an oversized t-shirt and threadbare joggers makes her feel weak and vulnerable in his presence.

“Or replying to my texts.”

“I know.”

“Listen, if the other night wasn’t good, or I hurt you–”

“Why don’t you sit down?” She interjects, suddenly realising how absurd he looks, stood in the middle of the living room, dwarfing everything around him with his obscenely large bunch of flowers.

Aemond nods gratefully, taking the seat next to hear. “These are you for, by the way,” He tells her, handing her the flowers.

She hums a quiet thanks, immediately overwhelmed by the sweetness of their aroma, and places them on the coffee table, knowing she’ll need no distractions if she’s to say what she needs to say.

“The other night was great, really great, actually,” She begins. “But you just left the next morning without a word, and that really upset me.”

“You were upset because I left?” He asks, sounding almost surprised.

“Yes!” She replies with exasperation. “You made me feel cheap, and used.”

“Cheap? But I bank transferred you afterwards.”

“Jesus, Aemond! I’m not a prostitute!” She throws up her hands angrily, gesticulating her point.

He swallows thickly, clearly considering his next words carefully. “I know you said you’ve never done anything like this before, but neither have I, and I made a mistake. My grandfather called me into the office early on Saturday morning. You looked so peaceful sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you. I’m sorry that my carelessness has hurt you, but I am keen to continue our arrangement.”

It all seems so simple when he words it like that. She could easily have reached out to question his actions, but she’d allowed her emotions to guide her and now feels foolish because of it. When she says nothing, Aemond presses on. 

“No funny business, I promise. We don’t have to sleep together again, but I’ve enjoyed having your company at family functions, it makes them more bearable. Please say you’ll consider it?”

She’s not sure what prompts the words from her mouth, perhaps it’s the pleading look in Aemond’s eye, or the fact that she enjoys his company too, but she says them before she fully has a chance to think about them. “Okay, we’ll carry on as before.”

“Thank you,” He says earnestly.

The buzzer sounding again prevents him from saying anything else, as Mysaria hurries from her room towards the door, in pursuit of her pizza delivery.

“I suppose that’s my cue to leave,” Aemond says softly. “I’ll text you, okay?”

She nods, and they both stand, hovering near each other, both unsure of what would be an appropriate goodbye. Eventually Aemond leans in, kissing the corner of her mouth lightly before pulling back and exiting the flat. She holds her fingers against the area, still able to feel the press of his lips even after he’s departed.

It takes three days for Aemond to message her again, and in that time it feels as though she could crawl out of her own skin with the apprehension that his silence brings. Had he changed his mind, decided her withdrawing contact over an honest mistake was too much to deal with? It fills her with a nervous energy that makes the days unbearable.

The relief she feels when he finally deigns to reach out is borderline humiliating.

Not sure if you remember my half sister, Rhaenyra, but she is having a BBQ on Saturday. Are you free?

I remember. Are you sure you want to go after what happened on your mum’s birthday? Xoxo

My mother will never let me hear the end of it if I don’t go. Will you come with me?

Yeah, I’m free :) xoxo

When Saturday finally rolls around, she keeps her hair and make-up simple, wearing a floral sundress and strappy sandals, but immediately feels underdressed as she recognises the house they pull up outside of as being the one they’d been to for Jace and Baela’s engagement party.

She has little time to dwell on her appearance though, as Aemond ushers her through the expanse of the house and out into the back garden. A sprawling, lush green lawn that could be considered more of a field due to its size plays host to various members of the Targaryen and Hightower families, as the smell of barbecued meat lingers on the breeze.

Aemond leads her around, his hand glued to the small of her back, so she can say polite hellos to everyone. Alicent and Criston greet her with warm hugs and kisses to both cheeks, Helaena does the same, while standing with Baela and Rhaena, the two girls offer a quick “hello” in sing-song unity. Aegon merely holds up a hand by way of greeting, looking less than enthusiastic to be there, and Otto says a polite “good to see you both”. The rest of the family’s greetings are a little more frosty, with Rhaenyra, Jace, Luke and Joffrey giving curt nods of acknowledgement, while Daemon is too preoccupied with the barbecue to notice they’ve even arrived.

“Viserys and Aegon not joining us?” Alicent asks Rhaenyra softly.

“It would mean having to switch off their Playstation, so I very much doubt it,” Rhaenyra says with a roll of her eyes.

The tension is palpable, but her nerves subside slightly when she sees a Rhodesian ridgeback galloping around the garden, with a copper coloured dachshund hot on its heels.

“Oh cute!” She says, turning to Aemond. “Could you not have brought Vhagar?”

“No,” He sighs. “She doesn’t get along with Syrax and Caraxes, so I’ve left her with the dog sitter.”

She gratefully accepts a glass of Pimm’s that’s offered to her by Otto, before he tells Aemond he needs a word.

“You’ll be okay for a moment won’t you, darling?” Aemond asks her.

The pet name causes her breath to catch in her throat and she merely nods, not trusting herself to speak. As they walk away together, she wanders over to a corner of the large garden, pretending to examine an ornate sundial to keep herself busy, when she feels a presence beside her.

Aegon has sidled up to her, beer in hand, a slight smirk on his face. “Having fun?”

“About as much as you are, by the looks of things,” She replies with a tight smile.

“At least you’re getting paid to be here.”

Her eyes go wide, her chest tightening as she realises he knows.

Aegon chuckles. “Ah, you didn’t think I knew? It’s fine, who do you think showed him the app?”

“O-oh…” is all she’s able to stammer, feeling too shocked to say anything else.

“You play a convincing part,” He takes a swig from his bottle. “Too good to be acting, actually. You can’t fake how you look at my brother.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She snaps, feeling the familiar heat of embarrassment tingle at her flesh.

Aegon snorts derisively. “Look, take it from me, don’t get attached. My brother is the last person you want to get involved with. This whole family is a fucking car crash.”

She sips anxiously at her drink, nodding slightly. “I’d noticed none of you seem to get along that well.”

“That is the fucking understatement of the century. Has Aemond told you much about us?”

“Nothing substantial.”

“Allow me to fill you in,” He gestures discreetly towards Alicent. “My mother used to be best friends with my half-sister, they went to school together. My grandfather and my father were business partners, tri-owners of multiple companies alongside Daemon. When my father’s wife, Rhaenyra’s mother, passed away suddenly, my mother started dating my father.”

“Jesus…” She mutters under her breath.

“Oh, it gets worse!” He says with a leer. “See, Rhaenyra wasn’t happy that her best friend had shacked up with her dad. I mean, who would be? She was even more pissed off when the three of us came along, as it meant she was no longer an only child. She started sleeping around to get back at my father, that’s how she ended up with those three.”

Aegon nods towards where Jace, Luke and Joffrey all stand.

“What about her other two children, Aegon and Viserys?”

“Those are the kids she’s had with Daemon. They got married shortly before my father passed away. Mum thinks she did it just to strengthen her claim of the assets, as Daemon’s a partner in the business and Dad didn’t bother to leave a will. Everything Mum has ever tried to claim for us she’s contested.”

“So that’s what all that talk of Dragonstone Cottage was about at your Mum’s birthday?”

“Yeah, ‘Nyra’s sneaky way of trying to hoard assets for her brood.”

“How do Baela and Rhaena fit into all of this?”

“They’re Daemon’s children from a previous marriage.”

“But Baela is engaged to Jace, isn’t that a bit…” She trails off, not knowing the exact word she wants to use.

“Incestuous?” Aegon lets out a laugh that borders on being too unhinged to come from a place of genuine mirth, before taking another swig of his beer. “Yeah, yeah, it is.”

“So what does this have to do with Aemond? Why should I not get involved?”

Aegon rounds on her. “Has he ever told you about, y’know…” He taps his eye.

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Hmmm. Probably best to leave that to him to explain then.”

Their attention is pulled away by the sound of a fork being tapped against the side of a glass. She turns to see Daemon standing at the head of the garden. “Just wanted to thank you all for joining us today”, He says as everyone gathers closer, herself and Aegon included. “I think such an occasion is cause for celebration.” He brandishes a bottle of champagne, before popping the cork, a few that are stood closest step back out of its line of fire.

Luke smirks, elbowing Aemond. “He should be careful, almost had your other eye out.”

It happens so suddenly it seems like a blur, but Aemond has Luke by the collar and Aegon is rushing forward to tackle Jace away. Punches are thrown from both sides, until the ensuing scuffle is broken apart by Daemon and Otto.

Aemond’s eye is wild as he approaches her, his breathing ragged, and his usually immaculately styled hair tousled. “Come on, we’re leaving,” He grits out.

She has to hurry to keep up with his long strides through the house and to the car, and they drive in silence, Aemond’s knuckles blanched with the force of the grip he has on the steering wheel.

She drums her fingers anxiously against her thighs, not quite knowing what to say, but it is Aemond who eventually breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” He says quietly. “It was a bad idea for us to go today.”

“What was that all about?” She asks as gently as she can. “What got you so heated?”

Aemond sighs heavily, keeping his focus on the road ahead, and for a moment she doesn’t think he will answer her.

“Luke’s the reason I lost my eye,” He admits. “His little comment today got to me, and I lashed out.”

“What happened?” She turns slightly in the passenger seat to face him.

“It’s stupid really, an irresponsible rich family allowing their kids to roam the woods with Airsoft guns. The official story is that it was an accident, but accidents don’t happen at point blank range, accidents aren’t something you never apologise for.”

“Jesus, Aemond, I’m so sorry.” Her heart aches for him, having to play happy families with someone who has maimed him

“It is what it is,” He says with a slight shrug. “Makes being around them harder than it already is though. Thank you for being there with me today.”

“That’s alright,” She fidgets nervously with the hem of her dress as they pull up outside her block of flats. “Do you want to come inside for a bit? You shouldn’t be alone when you’re feeling like this.”

No funny business.

Her heart races as Aemond’s hands disappear up her skirt, reappearing with her underwear grasped in his fingers, dragging them down her legs.

We don’t have to sleep together again.

She buries her hands into the softness of his hair as he latches his mouth against her, bringing her to quick release with harsh strokes of his tongue. Every thought of what they’d discussed on Sunday evening leaves her mind as he pushes her back against the mattress, the force of his thrusts inside of her causing her toes to curl and her eyes to roll back, until he eventually collapses against her with a grunt, the faint pulsation of him inside of her signifying he’s reached his end.

They fall asleep, curled around each other in her tiny double bed and she’s pleased to see he’s still there when she awakens the following morning.

“Your mattress is fucking terrible,” Aemond grouses sleepily, pulling her tighter against him. “It feels like I’ve slept on a pile of loose change.”

She giggles, nuzzling into his neck.

They spend most mornings like that, over the coming weeks. Aemond becomes a frequent presence in the little flat. Her feet stay planted in his lap while they watch TV after work in the evenings, before he fucks her into the mattress like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Their mornings are lazy and indulgent, spent slowly exploring every inch of each other, before they part ways to go to work, only to do it all over again in the evening.

She buys a dog bed, which takes up half the floor space in her bedroom. Aemond raises an eyebrow at this.

“Vhagar’s quite fussy about where she sleeps,” He tells her, only to watch in disbelief as the elderly doberman circles several times on it, before settling down to nap. “I stand corrected.”

Their presence in her life becomes larger as time goes on, and it’s difficult not to feel that it is more than it is, but she is constantly reminded of the transactional nature with every shopping trip on Oxford Street, every visit to Champney’s Spa, each time he hands her his credit card.

The thought occurs to her that perhaps she ought to broach the topic of what they are, how their relationship is developing, but each time she decides against it, too afraid he’ll say something she doesn’t want to hear.

Mysaria smiles as she sees them snuggled together in front of the TV, when she comes home. “You’re here so often, we’ll have to start charging you rent,” She says playfully.

Aemond pulls out his phone, bringing up his banking app. “How much?” He asks, deadly serious.

“Aemond, she was joking!” She laughs, swatting his arm playfully.

It’s been a slow Saturday morning, almost midday and she sits at the kitchen table, a satisfied ache between her legs, as she sips at a coffee while Aemond plates up eggs benedict for them both. One of the things that surprises her most about him is that he’s able to cook, and he does it well.

She eyes him carefully as she pokes at her breakfast, unable to shift the feeling of how his fingers dug into her flesh, how he gazed at her so reverently, his lips featherlight against her throat just an hour before.

His money, his lavish lifestyle, she wants none of it. She just wants him, so she decides that this time she’ll be brave and shoot her shot before she has the opportunity to second guess herself.

Carefully, she sets down her cutlery and rests her chin against her hand. “So I’ve been thinking…about us.”

Aemond pauses, fixing her with his right eye.

Nerves flutter in her belly at his silence, but she continues anyway. “What we have, let’s make a proper go of it? I don’t care about your money, Aemond, I just want to be with you.”

He clears his throat, setting down his own knife and fork, before slowly wiping his mouth on a napkin. “I can’t do that,” He says quietly.

She is immediately struck by the hollowness in her chest, sucking in a harsh breath to ground herself against the lump forming in her throat.

Aemond reaches across the table, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re perfect,” He reassures her. “But I’m not, and I don’t do relationships. My circumstances are too complicated, I’d end up hurting you, and that’s the very last thing I want to do.”

She can’t argue with him, he’s being so bloody nice about it, and Aegon had warned her of this. She wants to scream at him, to cry, to tell him it isn’t fair, but it’s her that has asked for this, and at least he’s being honest with her, even if the truth does make her feel like her chest is being crushed under a vast weight. “I understand,” She chokes out.

“I’m sorry,” He says sadly, genuinely.

“Can you…can you just go, please?” She whispers, unable to look at him.

He nods, standing and presses a gentle kiss to her temple before leaving.

Only after she hears the front door click closed, and the feel of his lips have faded from her skin, does she allow herself to fall apart. Hot tears cascade down her cheeks, as she feels the presence that has taken up so much of her life leave behind a gaping void in its wake.