#and have the front hooves free

[iwakuraz]

mlp is great but it scares me whenever the ponies wear roller skates on all four of their hooves. do they realise that's not safe :[

[multifandomfanatic02]

"Stuck in a Trap."

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 : deer!Alastor x human!Reader

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 : reader finds herself wandering the woods alone and falls upon a wounded stag stuck in a bear trap.

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨 : deer Alastor, human reader, marked, soulmate trope in a way

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 : 1.3k

It was a cool night in spring. Nice enough to take a walk outside. You had decided to chose a descent into the woods behind your house. It wasn't dangerous or anything, had a nice gravel path. A few miles into it became an attraction to some tourists. Those who were into the whole haunting thing.

The most you heard were some silly ghost stories. What nonsense, you thought. Some believed there was a portal straight to Hell sitting in the thicket somewhere. Some believed there have victims from past murders buried in there. You weren't exactly into paranormal shit, you've lived and roamed these woods for years now.

No, the closest you have seen were the crazy amounts of dead deer lying on the floor. Hunters perhaps? Maybe mountain lions? Nah. The state of the deer made you feel bad, queezy more like. The poaching of the animals was upsetting to say the least. Whenever you went on these walks, you made sure to break whatever traps you could find. More often than not, all being bear traps. It was illegal in this area after all. Nobody really enforces the law around here considering how scared everyone was with this place.

You had been walking for what felt like a few hours. Your cue being the red and pink sky to head home. Oh but it just feels so right to be there. It wasn't until you heard a loud animal like cry that you stopped in your tracks. You bet it was a deer caught in a trap. What were you thinking following a scary sound like this. This kinda thing should only happen in scary movies.

After a few minutes of wandering around for the source of the sound, the creature in question comes in to view. It was a stag. What a divine animal this was. It was a lot larger than most deer, the biggest set of antlers you had seen. And it's color was dazzling. It was as if it reflected the crimson sky above it. There was no way that it was it's natural color.

Inching closer to it, the reason of it's cry came to your attention. A hoof was caught in a bear trap like you originally thought. Blood dripped from it's ankle, in attempt to soothe it, he licked it. Blood staining around it's mouth. Looks like he'd been there for quite some time.

Bending down to the ground, you hold up your hands hoping the creature would realize you were going to try and release it. All he did was bellow in hopes to scare you away. But you just stared in amazement. Your hand just inches away from the trap, the stag notices and understands your actions. Staying still for a few seconds.

His hoof finally free, you put the bloodied old bear trap in your bag. The beautiful creature bows his head slightly, one of his front hooves folding beneath him, obviously showing a little gratitude. You bent down to meet his gaze, returning the unusual human-like gesture. You didn't really think about it too hard.

Your hand reached out to him, in hopes he'll accept your advances. The stags ears laid back against his head as he pressed his forehead into yours. He backed away slightly, giving the entirety of your forearm a well deserved lick before bounding back into the thicket of the woods.

What a strange interaction. Something you surely won't ever forget whether you liked it or not. Upon looking down, you notice a green glow surrounding the area the creature marked. Looked like it was making out a subtle A-like symbol. Well time to proceed home and wash off.

A few years had gone by and the mark still remained on your arm. After many specialist appointments and surgeries, the doctors were just as stumped as you were. It wasn't a tattoo of any kind, no ink was found in the skin. It wasn't skin cancer. And crazy as it is, after several biopsies the mark simply grew over the scar tissue. It was a complete mystery as to what that mark was. And if you told everyone where you truly got it, they would all think you were nuts.

If that wasn't enough, you often felt prying eyes around your secluded house. The paranormal stories were beginning to sound sane after all the experiences you had. There have been many nights where the stereo would turn on by itself or static would just be heard. Or nights when a dark yet comforting shadow would loom over you as you slept. You eventually became accustomed to these intrusions. Most would have moved out by now.

Whatever was here was like a dark guardian angel. You weren't thinking about the holy ones whom would just, look after you, wish you the best of luck and bring you to heaven when you died. No. This one was different. The type to personally interfere with human affairs to keep you safe. The idea wasn't too off-putting considering you had done been in two severe car accidents and a tornado; somehow leaving all situations unscathed.

More often than not, you would have dreams about the stag you had found in the woods all those years ago. Talking about how you belonged to him. How you live under his protection. He had a name too but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. His voice was really unique and drew you in like a magnet. The dreams you've received were so surreal. Like you've known him all your life.

If this was paranormal, you were going to do some digging. The term typically refers to the dead, right? The town library should have records of your property and the folks who lived there before you.

It thankfully didn't take much to get the information you were looking for. There were several newspaper articles from the 1930's that included details of a man named Alastor. Alastor.. that was the name you heard in your dream. It explained the mark on your arm.

He was a local serial killer who targeted those who were for the most part ill intentioned. Especially toward women. He was found dead in the woods behind your house, burying one of his victims. Mistakened for an animal. Which is why to this day hunting is illegal in those set of woods.

More newspaper articles opened up about his profession. Despite the mans.. er.. hobbies, he was quite the talent as a radio host back in the 20's. Youtube even had some of the old audio recordings. Your heart soared upon hearing his voice. This was him. The stag you saved, the shadows watching over you, and the voice that whispered to you in your dreams.

What didn't make sense was.. why was he a stag of all things? Why did it feel real? Well, as it turns out, the power of the human soul varies in the afterlife. Some could just interact with inanimate objects while others can only muster a sound whether it be naturally or through something called a spirit box. Then, what was Alastor?

Ultimately, you had fallen in love with Alastor. Over the course of your life, you had gotten to know him from your sweet dreams. He often thanked you for your kindness. Never had he met someone that put his faith back into humanity. Who would show such a lowly animal mercy and generosity? And the day that you arrive in Hell, he'll be there to catch you and say.

"The name is Alastor, the radio demon. A pleasure to be finally meeting you properly. Welcome home, ma chère."

a/n: i would just like to say that none of the pictures are mine, creds to the amazing artists 🎨

[soapssuds]

stubborn heart ch. 8

yan!capitano x wife!reader

summary | or in which capitano is told he needs a wife. and he begrudgingly agrees.

previous | next

Wife,

The mission is going smoother than previously expected. Expect my presence to be back in the late evening.

You read it over again and again and again. For a moment, you even wondered if your mind was playing tricks on you.

He's coming back already?!?! It's only been two days!!

“What does it say?”

You looked to Atri, “he says he’ll be back tonight-“

Atri clapped her hands at the news, “how wonderful! You must be happy!”

“Happy..?”

“Well, originally he said he would be gone a week or two, yes? It must make you happy that your husband is coming home sooner than later!”

“O-oh well…,” your voice trailed off causing Atri to sigh.

“You know y/n, you have to start acting like a wife at some point. Typically, the wife is happy when her husband comes home, you know?”

“Right,” you said. I need to start acting like a wife!

“Also…”

“Hmm?”

Atri grinned mischievously, “maybe he can help you with your little problem in bed.”

“Atri!”

You lightly whacked her on the arm as she burst into fits of giggles. Your cheeks burned hot as you tried to calm yourself down. Honestly, this made of yours was going to kill you.

“Ignoring that last part,” you grumbled, “what does a wife do anyway? You know, to prepare for her husband coming home.”

Atri immediately brightened at your question as she took a hold of your hands, “I’m glad you asked! Come! We have a lot to do!”

You let yourself get pulled around as Atri basically scuttled about the manor in a frenzy. She fixed your hair, got you into a nice dress, and even took you to the kitchen so you both could help the head chef make a few dishes. You were glad for distraction because despite wearing the nice dress, it felt like you were working as a maid again in the Hearth.

By the time you both were done with your preparations, it was already late into the evening. Capitano would be home at any moment.

Atri was quick to take your hand and drag you to the front door when a carriage could be heard outside, A horse thumping it’s hooves against the ground.

“What’s next,” you asked with a bit of panic in your voice.

“You greet him, silly,” Atri giggled as she went to stand off to the side and bowed her head with her hands clasped in front of her which left you awkwardly standing in front of the door.

Greet him how?!

Before you could ask, the door opened. The hinges creeked, and the cool winter wind blanketed you instantly as a light snow fall started to cascade into the entrance of your new home.

Steadying your heart, you bowed to the harbinger who entered, the door instantly shutting behind him.

“Welcome home, husband.”

Your voice was shaky, uneven. It was obvious that you were nervous. Maybe even a little scared, but luckily Capitano didn’t comment on it. Instead, he reached for you and grabbed a hold of your chin, his gloved fingertips were cold to the touch as he lifted your chin, tilting your head back which was when you noticed how close he was.

And time seemed to stand still as he reached with his free hand to unclip his helmet before lifting it from his face.

You could feel your heart beat quicken when he leaned down towards you and slotted his lips against yours, but just like before he pulled away all too quickly.

“What- what was that for,” you managed to ask as he let go of your chin.

“A husband and wife greet each other with a kiss when one comes home. I am merely fulfilling that duty just as you had done greeting me at the door.”

Putting his helmet back on, he walked past you, and you stood there for a moment before Atri waved to you to get your attention.

Glancing at her, she jutted her thumb towards the direction of the dining hall where Capitano was headed.

Right. Dinner is next.

Like clockwork, you followed after the harbinger. Your legs barely being able to match his long stride as he made it to the dining room before you. And just as you made it to the table to sit down with him, he spoke to you again.

“Did you find any books you wanted?”

You were caught off guard, but calmed yourself quickly, “I found a few…”

“That edge in your voice says otherwise,” he stated causing you to flinch. Of course he would be able to see right through you.

“Well…, you see. I did find a few books that I really wanted, but I also did something quite stupid.”

Deep down you knew that you wouldn’t be able to hide it, and Capitano was the type to find the truth if you weren’t going to tell him everything. You could see it even with his mask on.

“Something stupid?”

“Yes…, I was recommended some books by the cashier, but what I didn’t realize was that she had actually recommended and sold me some.. uhm… dirty books…”

You felt absolutely terrible. To be honest, a part of you wished that you just up and tossed the books instead of keeping them.

“Wife.”

“Y- yes?”

“Not knowing something or making a mistake is not something you should feel embarrassed or ashamed about, especially if it is something you are not aware of or something that no one bothered to explain to you beforehand.”

His words echoed in your head as you finally picked up your gaze from your lap to look at his face.

“But-“

“I am not arguing you about this.”

Playing with your hands in your lap you spoke up anyway, “but what if I don’t know other things that I should know about?”

“Like what?”

It felt like he finally looked at you as if he wasn’t expecting you to talk back to him, but it wasn’t like you were, you were just asking a question.

“What if I don’t even know how to do the things described in those books? Or what consummating really entails?”

“Then I’ll just have to show you.”

taglist

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some say "no blogs found" when I try to add them </3

[heartysworld]

Riding into love // LN4

Lando Norris x Reader

W.C.:2k

The one time Lando turned his niece's horse riding lesson into a speed dating event.

MASTERLIST

It was a bright Saturday morning when Lando Norris found himself in front of his car, waiting for his niece Mila to grab her riding gear. His brother Oliver had entrusted Lando with taking Mila to her horse-riding lessons for the day, and Lando was eager to spend some quality time with his favorite little girl.

“Uncle Lando, I’m ready!” Mila called out as she bounded down the steps, dressed in her attire, her riding helmet clutched under her arm and a huge smile on her face.

“Alright, let’s go, champ,” Lando replied, ruffling her hair. He opened the door to the car, and Mila hopped in, bubbling with excitement.

The drive to the riding stables was filled with Mila’s chatter about her friends, her horse, and everything she loved about riding. Lando listened attentively, enjoying her enthusiasm and making a mental note to remember all the little details she shared.

When they arrived at the stables, Mila quickly spotted her best friend, your younfer sister, Lily. You were busy helping Lily with her helmet when Lando and Mila approached.

“Hi, Lily! Hi, Y/N!” Mila greeted them cheerfully.

“Hey, Mila! Hi, Mr. Norris,” Lily replied politely.

Lando smiled and corrected her, “Please, call me Lando.”

You looked up and offered a friendly smile. “Nice to see you again, Lando. Thanks for bringing Mila today.”

“No problem at all. She’s been telling me all about how much she loves horse riding on our way here.” Lando replied, his eyes briefly meeting yours.

Mila and Lily quickly ran off to get their horses ready, leaving you and Lando standing by the fence. There was a moment of silence before Lando decided to break the ice.

“So, how long have you been coming here with Lily?” Lando asked.

You looked over at him and replied, “A few years now. Lily started when she was six, and she’s been hooked ever since. What about Mila?

“Just over a year. She’s obsessed with it,” Lando said, chuckling. “She even told me she wants to be a professional rider one day.”

You laughed. “Sounds like Lily. It’s great to see them so passionate about something, though.”

Lando nodded in agreement, watching as Mila and Lily mounted their horses. “Yeah, it is. It’s nice to see them happy.”

A comfortable silence settled between them as they watched the girls begin their lesson. You caught Lando glancing at you occasionally, admiring your smile and the way you interacted with Lily and the other kids. There was something about you that he found incredibly attractive.

After a while, you turned to him. “So, Lando, do you ride?”

“Me? Not really. I mean, I’ve tried it a couple of times, but I’m more comfortable with four wheels under me,” Lando joked.

You laughed. “I figured as much. It’s a different kind of thrill, that’s for sure.”

Lando smiled, feeling a bit more confident. “Maybe you could give me some tips sometime. You know, if you’re free.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on her lips. “Are you asking me out, Lando Norris?”

Lando chuckled, a slight blush creeping up his neck. “Maybe I am. Would you say yes if I did?”

“Depends on where you’re planning to take me.” You teased.

“How about dinner? Somewhere nice, where we can talk without the sound of engines or horse hooves,” Lando suggested.

You considered for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, dinner sounds good.”

Lando grinned. “Great. How about tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow works. I’ll give you my number so you can text me the details,” You said, pulling out your phone.

The two of you exchanged numbers, and as the lesson ended, Lando couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement. He hadn’t expected to score a date while taking his niece to her riding lesson, but he wasn’t complaining.

One date after another, you fount yourself infatuated with Lando and his presence. It was no surprise to you when he asked you to be his girlfriend on the fourth date. Ever since then, he spent every free moment either with you or coming up with arrangements on how to take you with him to as many places as possible.

Several months into your relationship, Lando decided it was time for you to meet his family at one of their family dinners. Your relationship had grown serious, and he wanted you to feel like a part of his life, both on and off the track.

The evening of the gathering, you arrived at Lando’s family home, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. Lando greeted you with a kiss and led you inside, where his family welcomed you warmly. Oliver and his wife, Savannah, couldn’t help but joke about Lando’s knack for turning a simple outing into a romantic escapade.

“The one time we leave my brother take Mila to a riding lesson and he managesto score a date. How does that happen?” Oliver teased, nudging his brother playfully.

Lando laughed, wrapping an arm around you. “What can I say? I’ve got skills.” He said, before leaving a soft kiss on the side of your head.

Savannah smiled warmly at you. “We’re just glad to see him so happy. He’s been talking about you non-stop for the past couple of months.”

You blushed, feeling the warmth of their acceptance. The evening was filled with laughter, stories, and delicious food. You felt at ease with Lando’s family, and it was clear how much they cared for him.

As the night drew to a close, you and Lando found a quiet moment together on the porch. The stars were twinkling above, and the soft hum of conversation filled the air from inside the house.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you said, resting your head on Lando’s shoulder. “Your family is wonderful.”

Lando pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’m glad you liked them. They already adore you.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of belonging. “I adore them too.”

Lando looked at you, his eyes filled with love. “You’ve made my life so much better, baby. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You leaned in and kissed him, your heart swelling with affection. “I couldn't have said it better, Lan.”

As the months went by, you and Lando started making mkre and more appearances at the paddock as a couple. The media and fans quickly noticed how much more laid-back and happy Lando seemed, both on and off the track. It didn’t take long for everyone to connect his newfound ease to your presence in his life.

“Looks like someone’s in love,” one of the reporters teased during an interview.

Lando just smiled, glancing over at you as you stood a few feet away from him. “I guess you could say that.

The journey from a horse-riding lesson to a loving relationship had been unexpected but beautiful. You had found each other in the most unlikely of places, and now, you were each other’s biggest supporters, you couldn't ask for a better unexpected match.

MASTERLIST

Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[heartfullofleeches]

What would happen if fast food reader tried to quit?

"I quit!"

Fourty minutes in - that's a new record. You're in the middle of a transition with a customer when the newest in a line of new hires comes storming from the back, apron and badge on hand.

"In the single hour I've worked here I've been yelled at till my ears bled, pelted with plastic balls, saw my reflection drown itself in the toilets, and had my wallet and keys stolen."

"I'd say you had an okay start...." You pause for a moment, centered on the task at hand. ".....So will that be cash or card?"

Your coworker stares at you like you've grown antlers which probably wouldn't be the weirdest thing they've seen, but still up there in rankings.

"You're staying?!"

"I can't quit."

Pity flashes briefly in their eyes. "Being jobless is better than whatever this is, but I'm sure there's something else out there."

"You don't understand. I literally can't quit."

Your ex-coworker scoffs. "I know the job market is pretty rough these days, but come on..."

Sighing heavily, you carefully remove your apron- folding and setting at atop the counter along with your hat and badge. Glancing apologetically at the customer, you mutter.

"I quit."

Really, it only took the first syllable for what happened next, but it felt weird not to finish the sentence.

The entrace doors swing to a loud shut. Music playing over the speakers descends into static. Caution tape peals and tears from the walls as management's door pries it from position. Darkness oozes from the cracks as a body presses against the frame. A hand reaches out - pointing behind you.

"So!"

Your ex-coworker and the customer scream. You look over your shoulder at your manager's grinning face as they grip your shoulders.

"Please don't touch me."

Your manager laughs. "Oh, you and your silly jokes. So, I hear someone isn't having the best time. Your little friend is free to go, but you are a valued member of our team, Y/n. Anything we can do to make you stay?"

"No."

Your manager hands their head in sadness, immediately perking back up as they remove their touch from your shoulders. "I see..... Well! We'll all miss you dearly, but we respect your decision. Allow us to give you a portion of your severance in hand as thanks for your service."

"Please don't."

"Lambchop!"

The lights flicker as the freezer door slams into the adjacent wall. They continue to flicker with every heavy click of hooves on titled floors. The hulking figure ducks beneath menu signs, narrowly missing its curving horns getting stuck as it rises to full high. The reds of it beady eyes cast you in eerie glow as it stares - pupils shrunk as it turns. It seems to blink away tears as it snorts.

In a flash, the store mascot picks your ex-coworker by the throat and slams them to down on the counter. It reaches for its belt, sorting the sharpest cleaver of its artillery and sporting it against its prey's neck. Your coworker shrieks and flails, ceasing all movement as warm blood runs down their neck. As your eyes meet, you remain perfectly calm - brows raised in a sort of "I told you so look".

They pathetically beat at the goat demon's arm. "What the fuck.... what the fuck?!"

Your manager clicks their tongue. "I do apologize, but it's in their contract. Money is important, but we value something more here. As payment for self-termination from our team, Y/n here is to receive the beating hearts of everyone in the building in loo of breaking our own unless... they've changed their mind."

You shrug. "Long as you're still cool with my taking cash from the registers."

"Wonderful! Lambchop, could you please let the spoiled meat go? I'm afraid they won't be any good trying to posion our dear Y/n like that and I doubt they'll even make it out of the parking lot."

Your coworker scrambles for the door as soon as they're freed. Their blood, which you refuse to clean, paints the front door seconds later. Your manager sighs.

"Now that that's out of the way, please see to comforting Lambchop. You know how they get when you threaten to leave."

You look over at the mascot would bleats softly as they knock their head gently against the side of yours. You pet their horns as you throw your hat back on.

"Come on, Choppy. You can feed me fries in the breakroom."

Lambchop throws you over their shoulder and heads for the back as your manager takes their leave as well - leaving the customer alone in the main lobby.

"They... never gave back my card."

[minotaurs-my-beloved]

Trespassing on harras of centaur's land and becoming their free use whore as penance.

You knew the woods were dangerous, as a child you heard stories about people going in and never coming back. But as you grew older, you started believing it less and less. Chalking the disappearances up to wolves or some other wildlife, and in a sense. You weren't wrong. But you're an adult now, you don't have anyone telling you no.

So, one day, you set out to hike through the woods. The hike starts off fine, the most you see is some hoof marks in the dirt, which you assume is just from deer, even though they do look a bit large, and you roll your eyes at the memories of all of those stories you were told as a kid. Telling yourself you were right and there's absolutely nothing to worry about.

After a bit you hear thundering through the woods and freeze, recognizing it was the sound of hooves. You attempt to figure out where it's coming from so you can get out of the way, thinking it's probably just the herd of deer that made those tracks. But no matter how hard you try, you can't find the direction, it sounds like they're coming from all sides, and they're coming fast.

You try not to panic, because, deer or not, a stampede would be dangerous. You start hearing things besides the hooves, something like voices, but you haven't seen anyone else out here. Yet, as you look into the distance you think you can make out the shape of men. Before you have time to rationalize any of this you're surrounded by at least a hundred centaurs. But that's impossible, right?

Apparently not because their hands grabbing you sure feel real. A centaur, who looks about mid 40s, comes to the front and stares into your soul before turning and deliberating with the ones surrounding him, too low for your ears to pick up. You're hyperventilating at this point, losing your mind because this can't be real. Why didn't you listen? You're going to end up dead like the rest of them.

They finally break away and he nods to the rest of the group. You have no idea what that means, but they must, as they start groping your body. Grabbing your tits, shoving fingers in your pussy, you thrash but try as you might, they're way too strong for you to over power them. So you resort to screaming, hoping someone would hear and try to help. All that achieved was a look of annoyance and a harsh slap on the thigh by one of the men.

The older centaur who gave the order comes forward and easily lifts you, keeping you still under him, you feel his hard cock sliding up and down your slit, slowly pushing the head in. You whimper and try to move away, knowing how massive his dick is, but his grip is too tight and without warning he slams himself deep inside. Groaning at the tight, warm, feeling of your cunt, he starts fucking without an ounce of care for your body. You lift your head slightly and watch as his massive cock bulges through your stomach with each thrust and your body decides to betray you, clenching around his cock. This only spurs him on, fucking you faster as you attempt to bite back your moans. It's been far too long since he's felt a cunt like this so after only a minute or so he grunts and fills your cunt with his thick, hot, cum. Pulling you off his cock and laying you back down when he's done breeding you.

You try to pretend you didn't enjoy it and let out a sigh of relief that it's all over, only for that illusion to be shattered immediately as a different centaur takes the other man's place, picking you back up so you're in line with his dick. Pushing it in just as relentlessly as the previous, keeping the centaurs cum from leaking out of you and ready to fill you with more. You look around at all of the centaurs surrounding you, knowing you're going to be stuffed over and over for hours with nothing you can do about it, not that you even want too anymore

[wisteriadumster]

Neat Whiskey❥Arthur Morgan

･｡ﾟ☆:*.☾ ·☽.* :☆ﾟ.

ARTHUR MORGAN X FEMALE READER

･｡ﾟ☆:*.☾ ·☽.* :☆ﾟ.

CW➻❥ Smoking⋆ Drinking ⋆ Intense Kissing⋆ Unprotected Sex⋆ Orgasm ⋆ Undressing of Others ⋆

WC➻❥1971➻❥ this isn't well proof read so any mistakes or odd things are purely accidental

Summary➻❥Arthur comes back from a rough mission and you’re there to greet him, you pour him a glass of whiskey and help undress him, leading you to fucking in his cot, in the morning you give him a cup of coffee and he dresses you for the day

*✧･ﾟ:* WisteriaDumster original work.*:･ﾟ✧*

You sat by the fire, finishing off the cigarette you had. You took the final drag and threw it into the fire. The thundering sound of hooves caught your attention as a group of the men came back, you started towards Arthur.

As you approached him you could tell the job had been hard, dried blood covered his clothes, and he had smelt like he was a bag of pure gunpowder.

“Rough job?” You wiped dirt off his shoulder as he fixed his saddle, he sighed and grabbed a cigarette from his saddle bag. “You head on and relax now, I’ll go get you a drink, calm your nerves.” You kissed his cheek and headed towards Pearsons wagon.

“We got a bottle of whiskey around here?” You examined the wagon, “of course we have whiskey.” Pearson opened a cupboard and grabbed a bottle, “you got a cup?” He opened the bottle, “check that drawer.” You pulled the drawer open and grabbed one of the few cups sitting in it, “go ahead and put it back when you’re done.” Pearson headed towards the cauldron of stew he had finished.

You grabbed the bottle and poured the honey gold liquid into the metal cup, you set the cup down and pushed the bottle into its original spot before grabbing the drink again.

You quietly made your way up the stairs, listening as Abigail was speaking with John, their talking paused for a moment as you passed by the hole through their room.

You slid into the room, Arthur was on the balcony, finishing the cigarette he had.

You stood beside him and held the cup towards him, “hope you enjoy it, whiskey.” You looked out in front of you, admiring the humid swamp, something about it was calming, maybe it was fitting with the summer season.

Arthur lifted the cup to his lips and gladly took his first sip, “sure know what helps a man.” He looked at you, “what did you do today? To end up looking like a muddy pig.” You looked at his buttoned shirt, looking at the spots where mud was caked on. “Ouch, wow” He chuckled before taking another sip of whiskey. You grabbed his shoulders and turned his body towards yours, “unless you want to steer away every living thing within ten miles, I suggest you change, and at some point, bathe.” You began to unbutton his shirt, “I can do it, you don’t have to.” You looked at him, his protest ended with the glare.

He watched you carefully as you pulled the buttons through their holes.

You stood back and looked at the man in front of you, he was finely fit, with a perfect layer of chest hair covering him, you were truly breath taken.

You went to pull the shirt off when he stepped back, the feeling of embarrassment started to flood in, he headed inside his room, taking back the last of the whiskey.

You followed behind, hesitantly, he set the cup down and turned around.

He pulled his shirt off and walked past you, closing the door, he turned to you.

He stood next to you, looking down at you, his face giving a mixture of emotions you couldn’t figure out.

He cupped the side of your face with a hand and leaned in, slowly letting his lips connect with yours. You were surprised but quickly accepted the kiss, you wrapped your hand in the back of his hair, the kiss was swift to become hot-and-heavy.

He pushed you against the door, rather hard, but you were finally having the chance you wanted with Arthur.

His free hand was digging into your hip as your kiss was sloppy and wet. His hand travelled down your leg, pulling it up to his own hip. His lips pushed in yours, they were impatient and aggressive as if he had also been wanting this.

He pulled you off the ground, refusing to break the kiss, he headed towards his cot.

He pushed you against the wall, his lips started to trail down your body, his lips were delicate on your neck, reaching your collarbone he pulled back and looked in your eyes.

He lowered you, slowly his hands journeyed up your body, taking in every curve of how your body was carved. His hands pulled on your skirt, letting it hit the ground.

He froze as he admired the newly shown skin, he watched as you removed your shirt, how your arms crossed over and pulled the shirt over your head.

“Arthur,” you were interrupted as his lips hovered by yours, pondering if he should let this continue to the next level.

He caved in, letting himself kiss you once again, letting it be serene.

Arthur laid his hands on your hips, they pulled you against him. With his grip he pushed towards the cot, his forearm wrapped around the bottom of your back and as if you were fragile, laid you on his cot.

He leaned over you, his kisses went back to going down your body, he pulled at your underwear as he went down, kissing at your breasts, his attraction making him continue even lower down your figure.

He pulled your panties off, coming back up to your lips, before kissing he stared into your eyes, they were full of salacious intent before you heard the sound of calloused hands against jeans.

“I can back away now,” He looked down as he watched himself remove his pants, “please don’t.” You lifted his head back to your face and kissed him, “can we switch?” He pulled back and stood, “let me treat you, pretty boy.” You teased and watched him lay down, you put your legs beside his and started a kiss trail down his body.

As you got closer to his cock you could feel his body's tension, and his breathing getting heavier.

You start to kiss his cock once reaching it, you kissed up and down it as it hardened.

You slowly let spit soak on it, a raspy groan left him, you made it back up to him.

You kissed him, having your hand direct him to entering.

The kiss froze as you both inhaled each other's air as he slid inside.

He started at a slow pace, trying to find the right motion and spot to hit.

You were holding in the urge to let out loud moans.

Arthur gripped your hips, controlling how your hips moved in circles. His groans were low and raspy, making you feen even more for him.

You gripped the side of the cot as you went up and down, your eyes starting to twitch and roll at Arthur’s thrusting.

“Shit,” you whispered under your breath as you felt the overcoming rush to hit your climax.

“A-Arthur,” You stutter at the increased pace, “you like that darlin?” His words scratched your ears as you nodded.

The setting sun basked the room in pinks and oranges.

“Fuck,” his voice was low and dragged on, you wished for his voice to never quiet.

Arthur flipped you, his eyes studying your figure from the top.

You let a moan slip out as he kissed your neck, his hands pushed hard against your hips.

Arthurs breathing was hard, and hot, you looked at the sweat covering his body, surely your body didn’t look much different.

Your climax was harder than you had ever imagined, everything your body was building up for was ready to release.

“Arthur I’m gonna,” he took your words in with a kiss, “me too.” He mumbled in your mouth, his pace was getting faster he meticulously matched his climax to yours.

With a deep sigh you let out a moan, muffling yourself with your hands as your climax hit.

Your legs tightened, your stomach sunk and fluttered at the same time.

Arthur abruptly groaned at your climax, hit him causing a chain reaction, he pulled out and leaned over you.

You were both panting heavily, you pulled him down in for a kiss.

Arthur stood up, his hand offered to lift you, accepting, he helped you up from the cot.

“I’ll clean this,” Arthur grabbed a sheet of fabric and laid it over the cot, covering his spot of cum.

You grabbed your underwear and slowly put it on, “are you leaving?” He looked at you as he pulled his own pants up, “do you want me to?”

He shook his head, “I’d rather make sure you’re okay, and maybe get seconds in the morning.” He came up and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in for another kiss.

You smiled against his lips and wrapped your arms over his shoulder, “fine, I’ll stay for the night,” you giggle.

You pulled from the kiss, “are you full, or would you like some stew?” He shook his head, “I'm alright darlin’, I’m gonna go to bed, if you’d join me.”

You couldn’t help but smile and nod.

You laid beside Arthur, his hand was twirling with your hair. “Goodnight Arthur,” his eyes fluttered, “goodnight, darlin’.” You rolled over on the small cot, a smile hard on your face, your cheeks blushing as you reminisced on the events of today. Arthur wrapped an arm around you, pulling himself close against you, his lips pressed a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

It was early, the sun was barely starting to peak over the horizon, the nightlife of the bayou was quieting as the birds began to take over.

You sat up, looking back at Arthur, who was sleeping peacefully. You stood up and opened the door slowly.

John was walking down the hall towards the stairs, he looked at you as he began down the stairs.

“Mornin,” you were sluggish as you made it down the hall.

You and John had the same idea of going to the fire, “you need two cups?” He poured his own cup of coffee, “I’ll be okay,” you waited for him to pass the kettle.

“Remember, there’s plenty of ears in camp,” John laughed and walked off, you let out a cough and poured the cup of coffee.

You made it back in the room, Arthur was still asleep. You set the cup of coffee on the nightstand and sat on the bed, gently touching Arthurs shoulder.

You leaned in closer and kissed his forehead, pushing back his messy hair, he groaned.

His eyes slowly opened, you smiled and grabbed the coffee cup.

Arthur smiled back and sat up against the wall, taking the coffee you offered.

“Sleep alright?” He nodded and took a sip, “been sleepin’ on a cot for about twenty years, I’m used to it.” He took another sip of coffee, “I’ve got stuff to do, I’m sure you do too.”

You shifted to the edge of the cot, Arthur set his coffee down and pulled you in, nuzzling himself in your neck. His kisses felt so good, you were addicted, “Arthur please.”

He let go of you and watched you grab your clothes, he stood and grabbed your skirt from you.

“Arthur,” he laughed, “let me help you out darlin’.” He held the skirt low, you put your arm on his shoulder and stepped into the skirt.

He pulled it up your legs, spinning you around and tightening the back of it for you.

Arthur grabbed your shirt and pulled it down your head, he let go, going back to his unfinished coffee. You put your arms through the sleeves and tucked your shirt into your skirt, “can we do this again,” you grabbed your boots, “soon?”

Arthur removed the cup from his lips and set it down, “oh darlin’ I think i can fit you in my schedule.” He followed you to the door and kissed you once more, “see you around Arthur.”

[spaceshipellie]

everything’s about you to me

ellie williams x reader

chapter three: bathe me clean

masterlist for other chapters (prev) (next) *✧･ﾟ: wc: 5.9k

summary: in the midst of the apocalypse, you and ellie find each other after you’ve both lost everything. what started out as a mere safety in numbers pairing, turns into something imperishable. however, after some time you get separated, leaving you both to believe the other is dead. four years later you find a commune in wyoming.

warnings: tlou au, violence, knives, guns, dead bodies, murder, stab wounds, self inflicted injuries, ellie’s dad humour, 18+ MDNI

author’s note: this took me a lot longer to write than i was expecting so hope people are still interested in this series lol, i’m kinda proud of it and thank you for being patient <3 as always lmk what you think!

♪ ‘cause the world could be burning, and all i’d be thinking, is “how are you doing, baby?”

A few days had passed and you and Ellie had decided it was a good idea to investigate the town. You were in the kitchen, checking through your backpack to make sure you had what you needed. You had to make sure you packed enough so you had resources out there, especially considering the town was several miles away, but not too much that it meant your bag was too heavy to move swiftly with.

“You got the map?” Ellie asked, zipping up her own bag and slinging it on her back. You noticed she had traded her blue shirt for a brown, long sleeve shirt that must have been Jack’s. It was slightly oversized on her but not too much.

“Yeah.”

You put your bag on, attaching the machete on the side and putting the pistol in your back pocket. You had already locked and secured the front door so you followed Ellie out the back and towards the barn. She grabbed the brown leather bridle from a hook and took it over to Harley, stroking her peach-fuzz soft nose before hooking it over her ears and buckling it up.

“Where did you learn to do that?” you asked, watching as Ellie scrunched her face in concentration.

“I read about it.”

She then grabbed the saddle and the forest green blanket underneath and slung it over Harley’s back. She studied it for a moment, adjusting its position until it seemed to slot better with the curve of the horse’s back. Harley stood patiently, kicking one of her hooves on the floor and snorted a soft breath. Ellie reached under her stomach for the band that dangled down, bringing it up to her side.

“Okay okay, let’s remember how to do this,” she mumbled to herself, fingers fiddling with the buckles. She stuck her fingers in between the band and Harley’s stomach to check the tightness and yanked around at the stirrups before giving Harley a pat on the neck, seeming satisfied with it all.

“That should be fine,” she said, turning to you. You blinked a couple of times, not realising how hard you had been staring at her hands working. You nodded, standing back as she led Harley out of the barn.

Ellie put one foot in the stirrup and held onto the saddle as she swung her other leg up and over. She adjusted her hips in the seat, bunching the reins in one hand before taking her foot out the stirrup and holding out her other hand to you.

“You ever ridden a horse before?” you asked.

“Nope, you?”

You grabbed her hand, putting your foot in the free stirrup to support you as she helped pull you up. You had to hop a little on the foot that was on the ground cursing a “fuck,” as Harley took a step forward as your leg flew over.

“Never,” you said as your ass hit Harley’s back.

She chuckled. “Well, this’ll be fun.”

She replaced your feet in the stirrups and indicated for the horse to start walking. The sudden jolt made you keenly aware that this was definitely the closest you and Ellie had ever been. Instinctively, she put her free hand on your knee for a second steadying you before moving it back to rest on her thigh.

“You okay back there?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”

Your chest was pressed against her backpack, brushing up and down slightly with the movements of the horse. Harley walked through the field until you reached the road, the clack of her feet louder now that they were on the concrete. You held the map in both hands so it didn’t blow away, looking to see if you were heading in the right direction.

“According to this, we walk down this road for about a mile then we go right when we hit the junction,” you observed before folding it and shoving it back in your pocket, hands resting on your thighs.

“Seems easy enough, ‘least it’s not raining.”

“You’ve jinxed it now,” you teased.

“Oh shit,” she laughed.

It felt wrong to laugh too but you did. It felt selfish laughing when so many bad things had happened lately. It felt insensitive to laugh when your mom wasn’t around to hear it. Up until now, you thought you might never laugh or even smile again. You knew that it would take you a long time to heal after her death for who could put a restraint on grief. Yet you didn’t want to feel like actual poison was running through your veins anymore.

After losing your dad, it had been anger that had controlled you. You had fallen into a frenzy where everything you did was erratic and irascible. It was as if your body didn’t belong to you anymore. Your fingertips would claw at anything that made you feel as though you had found some retribution for what had happened to him. You thought at the time that it was the worst pain you had ever felt, but you’ve come to quickly realise that sadness is worse than anger. Anger can blindley carry you through whereas sadness makes your limbs too heavy to even move.

After losing your mom, you were overwhelmed with sadness. Everything hurt permanently and instead of time moving rapidly as a distraction, it had slowed to an impossible pace, as if it had pins holding your eyes open to watch the events play out over and over again. Her speaking to you, hugging you, leaving you.

“Y/n?”

“Huh?” you shook your head, snapping out of your thoughts.

“I said what does the map say after we turn right?”

“Oh right, um,” you flustered as you tried to pull the map out of your pocket, fingers suddenly feeling slippery as you tried to unfold it. “Um, oh fuck, fuck.”

Your hand flew out as the piece of paper floated to the ground, whisking along with the breeze. Harley staggered back and forth on her feet as your weight shifted, naturally trying to follow the direction of the fallen map.

“Woah, careful,” Ellie’s hand suddenly gripped your leg firmly and your hand darted out to grab her arm to stop you from sliding off.

“Sorry, but shit, the map,” you said pointing.

“I know, here,” she held her hand out for you to take, “get off for a second.”

You complied and she did the same, rushing to stamp on the measly bit of paper so it didn’t go any further. She picked it up and shook off some of the dirt, wiping it before holding it up to you.

“See? Good as new.” She chuckled at her own sarcasm.

Your stomach lurched with anxiety. You had barely left the house and you’d nearly lost the very thing that could help you navigate this place.

“Hey, don’t stress. We’ve got it,” Ellie said, noticing the way you were wringing your hands and nibbling your lip.

You met her eyes and nodded. “Sorry, I’m fine.”

She handed you back the map and you folded it up, safely tucking it in your pocket. She mounted Harley, once again holding her hand out to help you on.

“I had a look, after we go right we need to go left at a gas station,” Ellie informed you, asking Harley to walk again.

“Okay.”

“If you need to hold on, don’t be shy. I’d rather you not actually fall off.”

You nervously placed your hands just below her waist, lightly fisting the fabric of her shirt so as to not touch her body too much. She had just said to not be shy but that didn’t mean you weren’t. You spent the next few minutes in comfortable silence, taking in the sights of greenery around you. How it shined under the strips of sunlight that poked through the huge clouds.

“Have a look in my bag a second, there should be a book in there.”

“Did you not see me nearly fall on my face? I don’t think I’m good enough to read and ride a horse,” you jested.

“Not that kind of book,” Ellie laughed, “just look.”

Keeping one hand gripping her shirt, you unzipped her bag and dug around for something book shaped. When you felt it you pulled it out.

“No Pun Intended: Volume Two,” you read outloud, “what the hell is this?”

“Open it and read something,” Ellie pushed, grinning to herself.

You flicked through the pages.

“I stayed up all night wondering where the sun went. Then it dawned on me.”

Ellie laughed. “Funny, right?”

“Sure,” you smiled, unconvinced.

“C’mon, read some more.”

You turned the page.

“I never trust stairs because they’re always up to something,” you snickered, flicking through more pages.

“These are so dumb,” you commented before finding another. “I had a crazy dream last night. I was swimming in an ocean of orange soda. Turns out it was just a Fanta sea.”

“I don’t get it,” Ellie said, frowning in confusion.

“Me neither.”

“I’ve got one,” she started excitedly, already laughing at her own joke. “Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon? I heard the food was good but it had no atmosphere.”

You put the book over your mouth, trying to stifle the laugh escaping your lips. “These jokes are so stupid.”

“Yeah, but you’re laughing.”

“No, I’m not,” a smile evident in your voice.

“Yes you are, I can hear you,” she chuckled, turning her head around for a second trying to look at you.

“Okay, fine. I laughed. But you’re the one who’s memorised some of them!”

“Who knows when you’ll need an emergency pun!”

You squeezed Ellie’s side where your hand was and it made her jump. “You’re so weird.”

About an hour later, you arrived at what you heavily presumed to be the town. The gas station you had passed on the way you thought you would check out on the way back if supplies in the town weren’t great. On approach, you could see terraced buildings lining the streets. It looked like a typical small town. Shops with broken windows. Cars parked in skewed positions with flat tyres. Street signs half covered in vines that grew thick across brick walls. A general eerily quiet atmosphere. Very normal. Ellie pulled Harley to a stop and you both got off.

“Where should we look first?”

“Um, maybe make our way down these,” Ellie gestured to a row of shops on your left. You climbed over the open window pane, carefully avoiding any of the broken glass on the floor. You seemed to be in a pharmacy with its clinically white walls and flooring. The shelves were mostly empty, some completely knocked over with various items littering the ground. You naturally both went to different sides, scanning for anything useful. There wasn’t a great deal where you were looking, just some paracetamol that expired the same year as the outbreak, some expired baby formula, definitely won’t be needing that, and some dust covered sunglasses. They had massive frames with electric blue lenses. Beside them on the wall you saw a ripped poster of a guy who was also wearing sunglasses and a colourful open shirt, carrying a large board on a beach. You smirked to yourself and wiped the lenses clean before putting them on and looking up at where Ellie was.

“Think I might save these for my next beach visit. You know, try ‘n’ catch some waves,” you joked, putting on your best surfer dude voice for the last sentence.

“Hot,” Ellie laughed, stepping closer to you and slapping a huge, wide brimmed straw hat on her head. It had a reduced sticker on it which made sense considering the world went to shit about a month after summer. “I’ll join you.”

Getting into character, you sauntered over to her and rested an arm on the shelf beside her, popping your hip and resting your hand on it. You pitched your voice lower. “What brings you to the beach, pretty lady?”

Ellie pitched her voice higher, pretending to twirl her hair around her finger. “Oh, you know, just wanna work on my tan.”

“Well lemme know if you want any,” you pretended to flex your muscles, “any surfing lessons.”

“Oh I will,” she fake giggled before you both burst out laughing.

“That hat looks ridiculous,” you said, slapping the front of the rim.

“These don’t look any better.” She tapped on the lens of the sunglasses.

“No really? I thought I looked cool.” You took them off, pretending to be disappointed.

Ellie chuckled and frisbee-threw the hat across the store. You continued your searches for supplies, again coming up against nothing. You crouched under a knocked over shelf, more broken glass crunching under your feet.

“Ohhh, fuck yeah.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of Ellie’s voice. She was grinning smugly at something small in her hands.

“What is it?”

She held up and wiggled a tiny plastic bag containing thin rolls of paper.

“Weed?”

“The one and only. Saving that for later,” she smiled, shoving it in her pocket.

You smiled at how excited she seemed. You had smoked once when you were fifteen with Amy but you both had no idea what you were doing so you’re not even sure if you did it right. You just remember it making you feel a bit wobbly and your throat had felt scratchy and burnt.

“I’m not having any luck here, wanna try next door?” you suggested and she nodded.

After searching through the row of shops you decide to find the supermarket, using the map for directions. It was a large, standalone building with rusted cars parked sporadically in the carpark. A few with windows broken and dented hoods, some completely destroyed from crashing into each other. It made you stop and think for a second about how terrifying and confusing it must have been when the outbreak hit. One minute you’re hearing the sounds of shopping carts across gravel whilst you load your shopping into the car and then you hear screams and screeching tires trying to escape.

“This seems to be it,” Ellie pondered. She suddenly mumbled a “shit” and you followed her eyes down to a skeleton beneath ripped clothing on the ground by the door. You grimaced thinking about how long that had been there and how many people had walked past the decomposing person over the years. Perhaps not many as this seemed to be the epitome of a ghost town.

Not being shocked by the sight, Ellie began trying to shove the broken automatic doors apart further. You watched as the wind blew a piece of her hair across her face, catching it in the corner of her mouth. You wanted to reach out and fix it for her, frowning to yourself as you weren’t sure why you had the urge to do that. Instead, you helped her pry the doors apart, each slipping through once there was enough room. You glanced around the expanse of aisle, noticing the signs that hung above them. The chipped cream floor was littered with anything from knocked over produce, broken shopping baskets, ripped pieces of board, broken glass, smears of blood and other unknown substances. The deeper you looked the darker it got, the light from outside only travelling so far, especially seeing as on one side some of the windows had large pieces of cardboard taped to them. Maybe that person out the front had been camping out here once upon a time.

“I’ll start left, you start right and we’ll meet in the middle?” you suggested. Ellie merely nodded before heading to the far right aisle. There were fifteen of them in total so hopefully you would find something.

You had made your way down to aisle four and had lucked out in finding some scissors and matches. Shaking a box upside down to see if anything came out of it you suddenly heard a rattle which sounded like the door. You inched your way towards the back, careful to not to bump into anything and give your location away. You prayed the sound was just Ellie, but you weren’t about to call out her name to find out.

“In here,” a gruff voice sounded. Fuck.

Footsteps clambered in, rubber soles screeching on the floor. You couldn’t detect how many there might be but you were definitely outnumbered. You made a mental note of where your weapons were and clutched your machete. You racked your brain for what to do, fear boiling up inside you. You could hear the movements from these newcomers spread out, shadows slipping underneath the shelving units. You slipped around to the end, peering round to see if the next aisle was clear. It wasn’t.

A woman was walking towards you, a gun in her outstretched hands. You moved quickly back into aisle four before she could see you but you knew you weren’t safe to stay there. You trod carefully down to the other end, towards the front of the supermarket but there was someone guarding the door. Knowing that you would have to face one of them no matter what direction you went in, you decided you had a better chance against the woman who could be turning in your direction any second now. You paid close attention to any noises you heard although the building was eerily silent as you made your way back up to the other, darker end of the aisle. Your body faltered as you heard a squelch in the distance followed by a low, agonising grunt.

Having reached the end, you braved peering around the corner again only to see the woman with her back to you, slowly walking away. You swapped your machete out for your switchblade and took your opportunity to wrap a tight arm around her neck and puncture it. She choked out a splutter of bubbling blood, dropping her gun as you brought her body down slowly to the ground. You snatched the gun from the floor and moved forwards in hopes of finding Ellie.

The next aisle was clear so you kept moving before a hand suddenly slapped itself over your mouth and an arm held a firm grip around you, yanking you back into them and onto the floor behind a freezer unit. Your eyes widened and your body went rigid until you glanced down and saw the brown shirt sleeve. Bringing your knees closer to your chest so that they weren’t sticking out the side of the freezer you slowly turned your head. Your eyes met Ellie’s as she removed her hand from you and brought a finger to her lips to be quiet. You noticed some blood smeared on her hand. Your worried eyes darted between hers as she tightened her lips in a line.

“They got Milo.” you heard a sinister voice.

“Sadie too,” a shakier voice said.

“C’mon, let’s find those little shits,” the first voice commanded.

Your back pressed harder into Ellie and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. You both knew you couldn’t just wait there, they would find you eventually, but you had no idea how many of them were left.

“We’ll take out the guard at the door and run,” Ellie whispered so quietly she had to practically press her lips against your ear in order for you to hear.

She snaked her arm away from you and gave you a gentle push, indicating for you to shift away so she could sneak a look over the freezer. You were now both crouched as she peered over before snapping her head back down. She pointed left and you nodded slowly before beginning to move forwards, still in your crouched position. You held your breath as you emerged from behind the freezer, exposing yourself to the possible dangers. Swiftly, you ducked into one of the aisles, Ellie following suit.

You moved down the aisle with careful speed, wanting to just get out of there. A dark shadow flashed before your eyes before a tall man with a scar starting from his cheek and finishing on his neck appeared. You halted and immediately rushed back up the aisle to create more distance, now behind Ellie as you both ran. A sharp, dense pain hit your thigh as you yelped and stumbled to the ground. You looked down at your leg and saw a knife that the man had thrown at you lodged in your flesh. Beneath the rip it made in your jeans, blood spilled down your leg.

Your eyes darted up to the sound of heavy boots stomping towards you. Ellie reached for your hand as you tried to scramble your way up but a rough hand gripped and yanked at your ankle, pulling you onto your back and away from her outstretched hand. You tried to kick as the man climbed on top of you, a cry coming from your lips as he ripped the knife out. With your legs stuck under his weight, you tried to blindly grab for your machete. You could hear Ellie’s grunts in the distance and assumed she had also been grabbed. Your frantic fingers managed to get a hold on the weapon and pull it out from its location on the side of your backpack but before you could swing, the man gripped your wrist. With everything you had, you tried to fight against his strength but it was no use. With his other hand he slammed his knife down and you screamed as the metal punctured your arm. He then pulled your machete out of your weakened grasp and tossed it so it skidded along the floor far away from you. You looked into his hardened eyes, your own glossing over. Your fingers scratched at him as you tried to push him off but your actions were cut short when he pulled the knife out of your arm and brought it up above your chest, thick fingers adjusting to get a stronger hold on the handle. Your crimson blood dripped from the blade and clung in splotches to the fabric of your top. Whether or not Ellie was okay flashed through your mind before your ears started ringing and your eyes squeezed shut at the sudden splash of something on your face.

A gunshot echoed through the store and when you opened your eyes you realised the only thing holding the man up anymore was your grip on him. You gasped at the glassy look he had in his eyes as you shoved his corpse off of you, the knife he had clattering to the ground. You sat up and tentatively brought your hand up to your face and swiped your cheek before looking at the blood that coated your fingertips. Turning your head you saw Ellie with an enraged look on her face and a shotgun pointed in your direction. At her feet lay another dead body, blood spilled and smeared around it. She lowered her gun and her expression softened ever so slightly as she walked towards you, crouching at your side.

“Here,” she mumbled as she ripped a piece from the hem of her shirt to make a tourniquet for your leg. You winced as she tightened the knot and her eyes glanced quickly to your face before noticing the stab wound on your arm. She ripped off another strip of material and did the same thing before holding your arm to help you stand up. You scrunched your face in pain at the weight being put on your leg but gritted your teeth to bear it.

“Was that all of them?” you asked.

“Think so, I haven’t seen anyone else.”

You hobbled towards the door of the supermarket, Ellie keeping a firm grip on your arm to support you. She hadn’t let on that she had any injuries but you could tell she had suffered beatings of her own by the way she slouched and strained her face. When you reached the door she let go of you to pry the doors open again. As soon as her hands gripped them a scrawny body came out of nowhere and wrapped a metal pole tight around Ellie’s neck. You screamed her name as her hands flew to grab the stranger's arm, trying to pull it away from her as they stumbled back. The man looked young and scared yet he desperately held his firm grip on the pole.

Ignoring your injuries, you grabbed your switchblade and threw yourself at him. The impact made him loosen his grip letting Ellie free. She was bent over, coughing and holding her neck as you tackled the boy to the ground. The fear you had felt about nearly losing your own life as well as Ellie’s transitioned into red anger as the faces of everyone you had lost flickered through your mind like embers. You fell completely inside your own head to the point where it felt like your ears were stuffed with cotton wool, blocking out the cries and screams of the man as you stabbed his chest over and over again with your knife. The sticky blood splattered your hands and stomach as you remained on top of him, repeatedly releasing your rage with every slash. He started to choke on bright blood as his eyes lost light. A pinching grip on both your arms was the only thing that snatched you from the trance, your vision and hearing becoming clear again. Ellie’s shouts became louder and clearer.

“That’s enough, that’s enough! Stop!”

She pulled you off of the man, your switchblade slipping out of your red hands. You sat sideways with your legs bent and looked up at her sat on her knees in front of you, her hands still holding your arms. She looked into your eyes with concern and took in your bewildered expression.

“I-” you choked on your words. The adrenaline was still running through your body.

“It’s okay, let’s go home.”

Ellie grabbed your switchblade off the floor and wiped it on her jeans before shoving it in her pocket along with hers before helping you to your feet once again. You both wobbled your way out and thankfully over to Harley who hadn’t been harmed. She neighed and kicked her front foot upon seeing you as if she was grateful you were still there. You steadied yourself by placing a hand on Harley’s neck whilst Ellie lifted herself up. She held her hand out for you and you braced yourself as you heaved your aching body up and onto the horses back. You had no embarrassment this time about holding onto Ellie’s waist as she gently kicked her feet for Harley to go.

The ride home felt like an eternity. The adrenaline had soon worn off, allowing the searing pain to sink in. Ellie had occasionally checked in on you with a quick “you still with me back there?” to which you’d mumble out a yes. All you wanted was to lie down. When you reached the house you climbed off of Harley and made your way to the back door whilst Ellie secured her in the stable. As soon as you got through the door you slumped into one of the dining chairs. You groaned as you shoved your backpack off, revelling in the removal of its heavy weight. Ellie came in and dropped her bag down also before rotating one of her sore shoulders and sighing.

“Wait there,” she instructed.

“I don’t plan on moving any time soon,” you joked as she dug through the kitchen cupboards.

She pulled out a first aid kit and some alcohol before marching back over to you and setting them on the table. She pulled a chair for herself to sit in and placed it in front of you. Your knees bumped as she opened up the first aid kit. She then paused, realising that in order for her to access your wounds you would have to take your clothes off.

“Um,” she started. It then clicked for you too.

“Oh right, um, yeah, you know, I can do it if you–fuck,” you groaned as you started to stand up. Her hand darted out to stop you but she quickly brought it back.

“It’s fine,” she laughed nervously, “if you don’t mind, I don’t.”

You nodded in appreciation, pausing before fumbling with the makeshift tourniquet on your thigh. You tried to swallow a groan as the pressure on your leg was released. You hesitantly undid the button and zipper on your jeans before resting your weight on your other leg so you could push the rigid denim down, exposing the nasty, deep gash on the side of your leg. You pulled your top down over your underwear and looked at Ellie who was looking intently at the wound. She didn’t seem phased, only concentrated on helping you. She poured a bit of sterile rain water onto a cloth and dabbed to clean any grime out of it, pausing to look at you when you flinched.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you.”

“It’s fine, you’re not the one who stabbed me.”

She chuckled at your dumb joke and continued dabbing the wound. You became very aware of how her fingers softly touched your bare skin. It felt like that shouldn’t be something to think about right now but you couldn’t help but watch how she was delicately looking after you.

“Okay, this definitely will hurt,” she said, grabbing the alcohol and twisting the cap off.

You shifted in your seat, readying yourself. You had suffered stab wounds before but that didn’t mean you had gotten used to it. You let out a string of curses as the splash of alcohol burned. It dripped to the floor in tinted red droplets as she pressed the cloth to the cut again, applying pressure whilst she grabbed the roll of bandages with her free hand.

“Hold this, keep the pressure on,” she gestured with her head to her hand on your leg and you swapped with her.

She started to wrap the bandage around your thigh, your hand slipping away as the wound was covered and she used her switchblade to cut through it and tie the bandage off. You thanked her before she gestured to your arm.

“I’ll go and get you some clean clothes then do your arm.”

She ran up the stairs and returned with a top and some loose pyjama trousers and handed them to you. You thanked her and winced as you pulled the trousers on before peeling your sweaty, blood soaked top off, leaving you in a vest. Ellie resumed her role as nurse and treated your arm the same way she had done your leg. She gave you a soft look as she helped you pull the fresh top on.

“Can I help you now? What about changing this–”

“Don’t,” she cut you off and sat back as you tried to reach for her bandaged right arm.

You sat back too, mumbling an awkward sorry whilst her eyes darted nervously side to side.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“It’s fine.”

A somewhat uncomfortable silence fell. You couldn’t help but stare at the bandage and wonder why she didn’t want your help. Especially seeing as she was completely fine helping you. You didn’t know what to assume but you could only suspect that something horrific had happened to her to make her suddenly shift from sweet to closed off in an instant.

“You should get some rest,” she whispered, avoiding eye contact.

You nodded and made an attempt to stand, groaning as you did so. A hot flash of burning pain pounded in your leg as you put your weight on it. Ellie quickly snapped a hand out to support you.

“Maybe you should just stay on the couch.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

Your lips tightened as she helped you shuffle to the living room where you not-so-gracefully flopped onto the couch. You thanked her again and both mumbled goodnights before she disappeared upstairs, leaving you alone with your pain and curious thoughts about her.

ELLIE’S POV

Ellie’s fingers tapped nervously on her wrist where her hands rested on her stomach. It was in the early hours of the morning and she was staring up at the ceiling, her body feeling restless and flighty. She couldn’t keep this up any longer, not now that she wasn’t travelling alone. She was scared to death about how you would react and how you’d see her if you knew. She had to do something to hide it, something much more convincing than a raggedy bandage. The mattress springs screeched as she got up from the bed. She made her way to the bathroom and rummaged as quietly as she could through the cupboards.

“Fuck, nothing.”

She carefully descended the stairs, nose scrunching at the loud creak from the top step. She had to find something fast so that you wouldn’t accidentally wake up. She crept into the kitchen and started looking through all of the cupboards. Her wavering eyes suddenly landed on a white bottle. Hesitantly, she reached her hand out for it and stood up, staring at the glaring warning labels. Her eyes quickly scanned the small print to see if it was strong enough to do the job and when she deemed it was, she turned her head to peer out the kitchen door and into the living room. You were still fast asleep. Grabbing the bandages and a bottle of the sterile water that was still left out on the table, she went back upstairs and set the things down on the bathroom floor by the bathtub and shut the door. She took a big breath and stared at the items before her. Shaking her head to rid it of the doubtful thoughts she quickly knelt on the ground and yanked up her sleeve, peeling off the bandage. The scarred indents of the bite mark revealed themselves and she brushed a hand over it.

“Ok ok ok,” she chanted quietly to herself in an attempt to psych herself up.

She grabbed the bottle and twisted the cap off, grimacing at the chemicals unnerving scent. She clenched her right fist and held out her arm over the bath. Her teeth gritted as she held the bottle ready to pour, occasionally tipping it back each time it got close to releasing the liquid.

“Fuck, come on.”

She clenched her jaw and tried to swallow a grunt as she poured the substance over the bite. Her skin stung but it took a few minutes before she could see it turning red with irritation. Her fist tensed as she let the chemical stab away at her skin, ensuring that it would blister enough to cover the bite mark. She tried to focus on keeping a steady breath to avoid thinking about the pain and when she had had enough, she quickly rinsed her arm thoroughly with the water before bandaging it up. She slumped to the ground and hung her sorry head low between her bent knees, looking down at her arms before her. She didn’t even realise she was crying until she felt a tear drop on her hand. She sat there and quietly sobbed until her head started to hurt. She figured she should put the bottle back in the kitchen where she found it to avoid any suspicion from you before she climbed into bed. Her eyes felt sore and heavy, a contrasting drowsy feeling to the lightening pain that was prickling her arm. But eventually, she was able to sleep.

taglist *✧･ﾟ: @bellasfavelesbo@ximtiredx @abbyily @heartzjules @gold-dustwomxn @sawaagyapong @aouiaa @pinkigirl @nil-eena @ucannotcompare @cherriesxinthespring @blvebanisters @lonelyfooryouonly @ellieslegalwife @carmellie @iheartgeto @faceache111 @lveunoialv @jajsnjz @simpforellie @frickfrack-paddywack-ukulel-blog @unicycl @cass00x @lizziee-williamss1 @muthafuckingstargirl @kattirin @corpsebridenightamare @hopeless-y @eleactric @666eve999 @wavesgocrash

[shiongenkai]

On this night I am thinking about Haru Sagara and how he is consistently putting others' needs in front of his own. And how, though he plays stupid and plays the overbearing captain, when given the choice between self-preservation or saving others he will always, without any question, choose to save others.

It's really sad in a sense to see this trend happening over and over. Like... he's burdened with someone else's debt and he deals with it himself with a fairly reasonable amount of griping. He takes over a park he doesn't know the operation of and teaches himself to do it by himself, because there's nobody else to rely on like general students (and, generally, Towa seems to be a free-spirit, and Haru encourages it!).

He frequently ignores his own health in order to give the anomalous animals the best lives he can in the park too. He remarks about getting bitten a ton, he obviously deals with upset anomalies frequently, he sacrifices AC on the off chance an anomaly may wander into the dorm... I think something that sticks out to me is that, when he wakes up from his tetanus coma, the janitor reprimands him for another ignored injury. And it's true! We see him get injured and subsequently ignore it a Lot! Or we see him put himself in positions to be injured for the sake of other people.

In Princess Oto's castle, he uses his stigma to save Ren and Calimari despite knowing he'd get hurt. And Ren is right to be mad at him about it! But what's worse is that he turns around and almost immediately does it again, this time with the implication that he was ready to lay down his life!! He tells Towa to stay with the MC and Ren because he thought they would have a better chance if he distracted Oto! His final words before Towa breaks the tank is that it's up to Towa now! And I think he knew Towa would most likely pull through, but he was definitely in bad, bad shape beforehand. And what if he didn't have the first aid kit? I don't think it would've changed his actions.

It's just. I want him to take better care of himself. I want him to value himself outside of the joking contexts we always see. Outside of the context of the park and the anomalies in his care. I want him to be able to rely on Ren and Towa more often, because right now he does tend to take the fall for them more often than not. Towa vists the hill so he stays home instead of asking him to return. Ren wants to work at the diner, so Haru lets him rather than forcing him to quit like he originally tried to.

Haru Sagara you will meet me in the pit (the pit is a nice comfortable bed) and I will beat you to death with my hooves (tuck you in goodnight because you wake up at like 4 in the goddamn morning and go to bed at god knows when if you even manage to ever sleep) (and then cook you a meal since you obviously don't eat enough either given that you have to be like oh don't worry i ate some lettuce and bread)

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Hiya! It's me, dude!

Seeing as we finished our moth one, I have to keep you busy. So, I have a new au for you!

This one is based on The Last Unicorn. I'm not sure if you've seen the movie, but you should definitely watch it. It was made in the 80s, so it's a tad old. But it's a gooden. I've changed the story a little bit.

I'm going to try and keep it short, but you know me.

Adam is the last unicorn, basically just living his life. Every other unicorn have been killed for their power.

Alastor is the big bad in this. He's the Red King and has been using the unicorns for their power. He's basically immortal at this point.

Lucifer is a knight in this. His story is that he's the real king and is trying to kill Alastor. So there's a bit of a selfish reason behind him helping Adam.

Lucifer knew there was only one unicorn left, and if he could capture it, he could use its power against Alastor.

Unfortunately for Lucifer, he finds the unicorn, but as it's being attacked by the Red Deer, a minion of Alastor.

Lucifer decides to turn the unicorn human to stop the deer from being able to find it. That's where he meets and names Adam.

Adam hates Lucifer at first, recognizing that he's only wanting to use him, like every other human. Lucifer tried to convince him otherwise, but it didn't work out very well. Eventually, Lucifer finds himself falling for Adam. He doesn't know if he wants his king title back or to just run away with Adam.

Adam doesn't enjoy being human. Everything is so different. He doesn't trust anyone, especially anyone who could work for Alastor. It takes him a while to trust Lucifer, but he eventually gets convinced that he helped him to keep him safe. But in the back of his mind, Adam knew the real reason.

Lucifer falls first Adam falls a lot later.

Of course, there has to be some angst. Alastor eventually works out that Adam is human, and he actually manages to kidnap Adam.

And I'll leave it there. It's basically dark fantasy- but it's not too dark! I promise!

Ima right a little bit- feel free to join if this interests you 😫😫

---

Lucifer trudges through a thick forest. The trees are suffocating. Everything made Lucifer feel uneasy, like he's being watched. But he needs to be here. He needed to find it.

The forest was so quiet, but Lucifer could sometimes hear the snapping and crushing of dead wood. The sound was all around him, sometimes far away, sometimes close.

Looking up, he could barely see the sunlight, but small beams were able to penetrate the trees, illuminating the way in front of him.

He heard the breaking of branches and trees again. This time, he could also hear the heavy falls of hooves.

He managed to duck behind a fallen log when, in the distance, he finally saw what he had been looking for; a white unicorn. It was beautiful. It's furr glistening and looked so unbelievably soft. Lucifer could see its golden eyes from here.

Lucifer was brought out his trance as his vision was assaulted by a giant, red flaming deer. Its huge antlers smashed through ancient trees, its hooves crushed vegetation, and killed small animals that were too slow to get out of the way.

He recognized the creature instantly, a minion of the Red King Alastor. The bastard manipulated his father, lying about Lucifer. His father made Alastor King.

He needed that unicorn before the Deer got it.

He sprinted off after them. Lucifer didn't have a plan, but he knew he had to do something to the Red Deer. That fucker was going to make Lucifers plan difficult.

Finally, Lucifer made it to a large clearing. But in front of him was a large, jagged cliff. The fall would kill anything, even a unicorn. That's when he saw the deer and unicorn running straight towards the cliff.

While running, he had an idea on how to save the unicorn. He just needed to get a little closer.

As he ram towards them, he could feel the head from the deer. Is wasn't warmth from a fire bit more the air around him reacting to the beast. It's skin looked sick and acidic.

Lucifer yelled some ancient words towards the unicorn. His mother was well versed in magic, so he picked up the arts easily.

With a flash of light, Lucifer saw the unicorn disappear, and the red deer ran off the cliff. But it didn't fall. Instead, it took off to the sky, soon turning to a thick smoke before disbursing.

Lucifer looked from the sky to where the unicorn was. The light is now gone, and left behind is quite surprising to Lucifer. A brown haired man lay in the grass.

Lucifer ran towards him, the clanking of his armor woke the man up.

Lucifer stopped in his tracks as he saw how beautiful the man is. He looked perfect in every way. The only thing that wasn't human about him was the four pointed, golden star on his forehead, where his horn was.

Lucifer unclipped his white cape and quickly covered the man, he didn't look completely aware yet.

But what took Lucifers' breath away was his stunning, golden eyes, that captured the sunlight.

---

Hope that set the scene and made it more interesting for you 😫

Okay- bye!

I haven't seen the movie but man!! Hit me with this! I love Al being the bad guy so much hehe. Bare with me because I will go off script lol 😆

-

Adam could feel the soft grass against his cheek, when did he lay down? He was running away only moments ago and now it was as if he collapsed. But he didn't remember falling.

He felt something get draped over him, so he opened his eyes to see a human man looking at him with equal parts wonder and concern. It had been so long since a human had been this close it freaked him out. He jumped and tried to back away, they killed all his friends and family!

Luicfer: Hey, woah woah woah, it's okay I'm not going to hurt you.

Adam: Says you.

Did that come out of his mouth? Since when could he speak English?

Lucifer grinned, oh good he would be able to talk to him that would make things so much easier. He helped him up into his wobbly two legs.

Two!?

Adam looked down and..... He was human!? What the fuck was this sorcery??

Adam: What did you do to me!?

Lucifer: I saved your life from that deer thing! It was chasing you and..... Well unicorns do exactly fly.

That was Pegasus, another one Alastor was hunting but because they could fly they were a little harder to get.

Adam glared: I know that! Fuck....

He never thought a unicorn would have such colorful language.

[idkfitememate]

We need more boar and venti fluff

They gotta be chaotic besties

Or chaotic rivals

Like all venti sees is boar creator loving saying this:

Venti vs. Boar..?

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Boar Reader vs. Venti/Barbatos

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 1.8k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : CRACK CRACK CRACK, tiny bit of angst ???, fluff :3

Barbatos was a benevolent god.

He was the god of freedom for Archon’s sake! His entire deal was allowing these people the will and right to choose to live their lives however they pleased with no judgement from him or anyone.

And yet, here he was absolutely hating the free will of a single Boar.

Now it wasn’t like he wasn’t amazed at all the way the Boar found to terrorize his people, but the animosity came from the fact that the Boar targeted him out of everyone.

Like why??? What did he do to them??? He just fucking existed and the Boar decided he would be the perfect victim.

Which was ironic, he guessed. He, a God, was being bested by a Boar.

Venti sneezed for the one hundredth time as he combed the cat hair off his clothes and out his own hair, sighing and subsequently coughing afterwards.

All because of that damned Boar.

And Venti didn’t swear a lot so you know he means business.

Just recently the Boar had surprised him with a tree full of cats, which was awful, naturally. Why and how this Boar knew his weaknesses he would not know, but Venti was tired.

He wanted to know the Boar’s weaknesses, anything really, just to get back in some kind of way. His people loved the thing, but as time continued, he really didn’t feel too much.

Annoyance? Yeah. A tiny bit of anger? Yeah that too. But any real kind of rage?.. No.

Every time he tried to will any kind legitimate rage or true anger towards the animal, he just couldn’t. The faint memory of the Boar sleeping next to him under a tree never fully faded from his mind.

Barbara’s fan club was slowly dissipating because of them. Which was nice, amazing for her. Jean was finding more time to relax due to them taking Klee out of the city for a while to do… whatever they did, again amazing of everyone really. Everyone seemed to be benefiting by the Boar’s presence in one way or another, besides Venti.

He just couldn’t understand it! Why? What did he do in order to piss this Boar off so bad, that it would try to fight him at every given moment. He was tired of it.

Hoping down from the tree he was currently residing in, Venti slowly made his way into town, taking off his hat and ruffling his hair, plopping it back on haphazardly and yawning. As soon as the gates of Mondstadt came into view, Venti stopped and slapped his cheeks lightly, taking a deep breath and dawning his signature grin, nearly skipping into the city.

He greeted children and slowly made his way to the bar, but was stopped by shouting down an alley. Looking around and noting no one nearby, Venti leaned back and took a look. There, he found, was his enemy, The Boar. And by the looks of it, one of Barbara’s fan club members.

Venti honestly almost snickered at the sight of this full grown man down on his ass by a very angry Boar. Every attempt to rise back up was met with hooves to the face and legs - and even once the poor man’s balls R.I.P. - and all he could do was moan and groan some shit about having to go see her, a comment that would be met with a head but.

For a few minutes it was funny, watching you beat the shit out of that man, but it very quickly and very suddenly escalated. The man, despite all the pain he should’ve been in, shoved you off. You were disoriented for a second, but quickly jumped back up to beat the shit out of him, but he - the mad man he was - whipped out a switchblade.

Venti’s eyes widened, taking a step forward to help, but instead was met with a harsh gust of wind. His eyes shut from shock, only opening after putting hands in front of his eyes. You, the Boar, was blowing on the man, pressing him against the back wall of the alley.

After pressing him there for sometime, you dropped him, smoke billowing from your snout, you stepped forward and opened wide, revealing flame licking the back of your throat.

The man screamed, the blade long forgotten as he jumped up and ran, shoving past Venti and into the streets.

Venti turned to look at you, you who had your chest puffed up in pride and glee. You both stared at each other for a moment, before you scuttled away, darting out the alleyway and into the city.

Venti tugged on one of his braids, eyes glancing back over at the alley. With a new pep in his step, Venti walked back into the sun, out of the alleys.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍬🍯🍡୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Drinking was a long-time acquaintance to Venti, something he knew would never leave him even as the sands of time continued to flow.

He’d never be one to admit why he drank, and with the looks he’d get from Master Diluc and other patrons, he didn’t think he’d ever admit it. To himself, or anyone.

The bard had just been kicked out on his ass, Diluc staring worriedly yet disappointedly at the man, musing something about going home and sleeping this off. Venti shrugged with a giggle and shambled off into the darkened streets.

The tipsy man sang drunkenly, old sea shanties and bar songs bouncing off the silent streets, making it seem as though there were a thousand men singing with him. With each passing breath he grew louder, though if anyone was awake at the time, no one tried to silence him.

Venti wobbled his way closer to the entrance of Mondstadt to go off to his favorite tree to nap, cape half-hung around his shoulders and top buttons of his shirt undone.

He was stopped abruptly by a hand dragging him down another alleyway. What was with him and alleys today?? He was slammed against the back wall, a hand unceremoniously slamming over his lips, finally silencing the rambled singing.

Now he wasn’t scared, the god in a man’s body knew very well that no matter what he’d be fine. His real… concern(??) was in the fact that someone even had the gall to do something like this. Not to say Mondstadt didn’t see any crime of course it was usually just… regulated.

Venti looked up to the man who had the nerve and - yep - it was a Fatui member. The grunt was shaking, breath puffing out into the cool night air. His lips were trembling as he huffed, eyes darting between Venti and some invisible force beyond the alley. Just as Venti was about to speak up, the Fatui member beat him to it.

“Listen, we don’t have much time but I can’t risk it finding me-“ He cut himself off, flinching at the sound of something falling over, looking over to find a cat next to a fallen flower pot. He sighed and sniffled, stiffening up again to look down at Venti.

“Just keep your mouth shut, okay? No more singin’, no more nothin’. Just be quiet and let me slip away-“ This time, he was interrupted by flame dancing across the walls of the alley, licking him and Venti.

The man screamed, tears suddenly pouring from the eyeholes of his mask as he ran through the alley towards the other end, only to be blocked by a wall of Geo. He sobbed louder, slamming his fists against the wall in hopes of anything happening.

Venti stared at the pathetic display, drunken mind still comprehending the literal man-child before him who had by this point slid onto the floor with his face in the dirt, sobbing into the ground.

Venti looked back up at the sound of small hooves trotting along, coming into view was you. Despite your trotting, your face read nothing but rage to the short god, and all he could do was shiver and let you pass him by. Even when dealing with all your pranks you never looked at him like… that.

There was something in your eyes he couldn’t read, power radiating off you like a rushing river. He almost fell to his knees.

Finally you made it to the whimpering Fatui grunt, who was now on his knees and shaking like a leaf. Your little trot came to a stop as you stepped closer to the quivering mess of a man before you both. You snorted in disgust and flicked him with your front hoof, making him squeal like a child.

He jumped onto his ass and pressed his back at the wall, kicking at you as you oinked in annoyance. Venti could only watch, having sobered up a bit by this point. Sure, it was obvious that you saving him - even if he could’ve done it himself - was a byproduct of you already being on the Fatui members ass, but it was the mere fact that you did.

There was an understand between you both, unspoken, that you each knew the other was non-human. Venti had a damn good idea that you knew he was Barbatos, but to you… he wasn’t entirely sure. Evidently you were different, he’d be a fool to not see that, but he genuinely couldn’t place it.

Venti was thrown from his train of thought when the Fatui member flew over his head, screaming. He landed with a thud and scurried off, screaming. Both you and Venti watched, you huffing with pride.

You glanced up at Venti and snorted, and began trotting off.

“… Wait!” Venti’s voice called out. You stopped and turned, looking at the bard with interest. He took a few cautious steps towards you which would’ve been offensive… if you hadn’t deserved it.

When he got close enough, you sat down which made him flinch. You snort-chuckled and he clicked his tongue. Finally he stood before you, staring down at you as you awaited why he stopped you.

“… Why?” The question startled you. You tilted your head and he sighed.

“Why do you hate me so much? Why do you seem to despise me out of everyone?” Your eyes widened before you huffed, turning away, eyes downcast.

Venti sighed before kneeling, and with a hesitating, shaking hand, he ran his fingers through your hair, brushing his nails over your scalp. After a beat, you leaned into the touch.

“I don’t know why, but I’m tired of fighting you. Small truce, just for a while?” You hummed, tail starting to wag as he pet your head. The wall of geo fell behind you both and a nice breeze blew in, cooling Venti’s face and bringing a smile to his lips.

“Thank you, Wild Boar.”

You snorted.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : No because that ending tho I’m so tired LMAO-

[travelingcentaur]

Centaur: Night Rider

That feeling when your centaur lover of elven origin has had enough of your nonsense. Your insistence on reading when its that special time of year for his people, and you are insisting on staying in and reading! His annoyance is laid bare as he insists on going out with the moon begins to climb, but you decline in favor of reading your favorite book. Forcing him to be direct as his mother has taught him with troublesome mates.

Resulting in you, still laid on your favorite blanket, suddenly finding his rear hooves slamming down on either side of your shoulders. Startling you to no end before finding your head pinned to the floor by two extremely warm and swollen balls as he squats down on you. Musky and near sticky from the intensity of his natural needs. Each bigger than your chest and weighing just as much as he settles his weight down on you.

Nearly sitting as a dog on your head as he makes a point of taking your shorts off. Unbuckling and sliding off to show he's not a brute as you protest. Only to be silenced by him shifting his rump across your face to have his plump sack pressing against your mouth. Ensuring no further protests as he grips your throbbing member and begins stroking.

Feeling his determination to get you to relieve yourself with his firm practiced strokes. Needing but a few minutes before you spill heavily into his hand for him to loudly drink and lick clean before he gets up. Leaving you breathlessly as he grabs a belly harness you purchased for his birthday the month prior.

Something you immediately regret as he stands over you for a moment with a smile. Then leaning down and sniffing your face for a few moments before kissing you and stripping you of your shirt. Making it far easier for him to slip you into the harness before stepping into the straps and pulling you up.

Nice and taunt against his belly and rump firmly pressed against his sheath. Barely getting everything in place and tightened down properly before you moan with his cock pressing free of his sheath and entering you in one smooth motion. Needing but a few tense pleasure digging moments before you find your favorite blanket wrapped around you.

"Now, we have much time to make up for, most of the herd are already on their seventh releases into their partners. And I still intend on setting the new record with thirty before the first light of dawn!", he proudly says as you jostle and bounce on his swelling cock as he walks out the front door.

Feeling his plump sack bouncing and smacking against your rear with each step as your belly and his becomes warm with your pleasure driven release. Earning a delighted chuckle from him before he sprints off into the field and away from the house. Barely slowing as you cum again with his own balls clenching against your rear. Letting loose a flood you know to be dozens of gallons yet refusing to miss a single step or sway in his gallop.

Racing hard into the night to catch up with his herd, joining them for their games and chases. Sharing in the joyous fun as you speak to the others on their lovers belly as you are, drinking wine brought by the others. Laughing heartily as you do not regret teasing your lover as you had. Joking over who is leaving the bigger and longer trails of seed behind them. And by the peak of the moon he has already caught up and exceeded most others in releases.

A delightful eighteen heavy releases into you with no signs of slowing or stopping as he takes the lead in the next race. Galloping hard and fast with his balls slapping against your ass as its a long one this time. Earning another two releases by the time he reaches the finish, in third place. But no hard feelings are hard as everyone, including him, cheers for the one who came in first.

As the moon reaches high above he proudly declares his count of twenty-seven. Earning a few whistles and cheer as more wine is had before he and everyone gathered hunch over slightly and really begin fucking their belly tied partners. Encouraged by the others to thrust hard and fast into you as your seed has long since soaked through his fur and spilling out around your belly and back. Dripping heavily onto the ground as he cums again and again.

Determined now as he breaks the record of thirty releases and continues without slowing. Leaving you to try and count with difficulty with the pleasure soaking through your numbing mind. Feeling his release blending together with the next till exhaustion finally takes you. Slipping into a intense dream of pleasure that seems to never end.

Waking the next day with a pleasant snap, finding yourself staring at your lovers chest. Taking a few seconds to realize he has not taken you off yet. And... he's cooking breakfast.

"Fret not dear, its tradition for one to keep their partner on them for the weeks leading up to the full moon. To ensure proper bonding and show of love between two men such as ourselves. And for those with woman as their lovers, to ensure their seed takes.", he says with pleased tones.

Barely finishing before you feel his balls tense once more with a fresh filling of warmth. Only to frown up to him as you point out he's the one who is going to be scrubbing the floors clean, not you.

[thisisourlovestory]

Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Wordcount- 3.1k

Notes: Sorry this one was so late, it was just not chaptering but it's here now so enjoy!

Chapter 5

My heels clicked as I walked across the stone floor. My dress swirling around in the light breeze that flowed through the opening at the other end of the room. I felt eyes on me as I walked. So many eyes. All latching onto me and following my every movement. I locked my own gaze on the horses. Beautiful creatures, tall, strong and powerful. I stopped next to the chariot I would be riding in and stroked the horses pulling it. I found myself drawn towards the one on the left. His depthless black eyes pierced my skin. I felt as if he knew everything I was feeling, everything I thought, everything I had done. I stood directly in front of him. My own eyes locked on his as I lifted my hand to stroke his face. Dark fur like velvet under my touch. He nickered quietly, hooves pawing at the ground. 

“It's okay. It's okay.” I soothe him gently. “I'm a friend, I won't hurt you.” I hold his head and stroke along his nose to calm him down as I chatter mindlessly to him. “You're very beautiful, you know. I'd love to see you free, running in the wild. I'm sure it would be a sight to behold, you in the meadows. I think you'd like that, meadows are pretty. Especially if they have lots of flowers, my favourites are the blue and purple ones. Then again you might eat the flowers.“ I frown. “I don't know if flowers are good for horses so you maybe shouldn't eat them.” He snorted as if laughing at me and I smiled before turning around and taking a step forward. Immediately, eyes were on me again, assessing, questioning, some downright sadistic- as if they were already plotting how to kill me. I shuffled nervously on my feet, putting my hands behind my back and fiddling with my fingers as I peered around curiously myself, Cashmere and Gloss were stood chatting to Enobaria and Brutus, their sneering expressions as they glanced over me giving away exactly what they were talking about. Other tributes were milling around, chatting to each other quietly, trying to not draw attention to themselves. I decided to mingle a bit, I meandered through the room, not looking directly at anyone but nodding hello or raising a hand in greeting. Without realising it I somehow ended up by the district 12 tributes, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. The winners of last year's games, the star crossed lovers. I gave them both a quick nod and turned, in doing so I lost my balance and wobbled, almost falling over but Katniss grabbed my arm and righted me. 

“Thank you.” I muttered. She said nothing in response so I thanked her again awkwardly and made to walk away. 

“Wait,” I turned to see her holding a hand out to me. “You're Y/N right. The winner of the 68th.” I nodded.

“Yes, I am.” 

“I remember the year you won. I watched your entire games. You won by killing the three career tributes didn't you.“ I shivered at the reminder and replied softly. 

“Yes.” 

“Nobody thought you would be the one to win. I didn’t either. Thought it would be the district 2 boy.” I laughed lightly. 

“That makes two of us.” I stopped for a second before continuing. “I know you don't know me or anything but for what it’s worth I’m sorry you have to do this again. You and Peeta. You don't deserve it.”

“None of us should have to do this.” Peeta interrupted. “None of us.” I quirked an eyebrow as I studied him. His face set in a stony expression. 

“You shouldn't have won either but you did and here we all are again.” I turned away from him to face Katniss again. “And what you did for your sister last year was brave.”

“What you did for Annie this year was brave.” She countered. I hummed

“How do you know I didn't do it for glory?”

“Because none of us want to go back in there.” I studied her, a sad smile on my lips.

“That's not entirely true.” She looked confused for a second and I shook my head. “Some of us want to go back in, not for the reasons you're thinking, not for glory or bragging rights. Some of us just want to protect other people.” I shook my head slightly, my hair falling over my shoulders. “Like him,” I nodded to Peeta who was petting the horses,”He wants to protect you and he didn't want Haymitch to go back in because he would have probably died.“ She gazed at me for a second. 

“So you volunteered to protect someone as well.” I stared back at her. 

“I didn't mean to volunteer. It just happened.” She opened her mouth to respond but we heard a scream of my name from across the room. I turned and was immediately enveloped in a huge hug, my face filled with coiffed hair and I spluttered as it covered my mouth and nose.  

“Effie, hair. Face. Hair. Breathing.” I stuttered out, Effie pulled away from me and gasped. 

“Oh you look so beautiful! Absolutely gorgeous!.” She grasped the fabric of my dress and inspected it closely. “The stitching is impeccable and this colour is so lovely on you.” 

“Wait a minute, how do you three know each other?” Katniss interjected.

“We met when I was in the games, Effie loved me from the start because according to her I was ‘just so adorable’ and Haymitch warmed up to me after a while. But we’re only acquaintances, very rarely see each other.” She looked sceptical but nodded anyway.

“Effie’s right kid. You look pretty incredible. They'll all love you out there.” Haymitch said from behind, patting me on the back. “How’ve you been doing?” I shrugged. “Come on, something must have happened since we last saw you. It's been what, three, four years since you refused to see us again?” 

“Four years, eight months and twenty seven days.” I muttered, looking down at the floor and laughed awkwardly. “There have been some tough moments, nightmares that you can never get rid of, but other than those I've been fine. Same as I always was. Same as I always will be.” I squinted at him. “What about you?” 

“We’ve been very busy looking after these two and making sure they are adapting well to life as victors but other than that it's been much the same as usual.” Effie chimed in, sending a glare Haymitch's way and mouthing something I couldn't discern. Haymitch rolled his eyes at her and spoke to me as she fussed over Katniss.

“You volunteered. I thought you said nothing could ever make you come back.” I looked down.

“I lied.”

“I don't know why you did it kid and I know you won't tell me because you don't get close to people if you can help it, so just,” He  sighed, ”Just try and stay alive as long as you can alright.” He patted me on the back again and went to talk to Peeta as Effie 

“I have missed you like you wouldn't imagine darling. Although I did see you dancing a few times, it was so graceful and beautiful.” She covered her mouth. “You've grown up so much. Now where is that escort of yours, Lysander?” I shrugged again. 

“Don’t know. Probably hounding Finnick or something.” Effie let out a loud sigh. 

“He really is useless. Utterly useless. And I’ve told him that before you know. But apparently my advice is meaningless! Does he even know what his job is? It’s to help you win by getting you sponsors. And ignoring you completely is not the way to help.” 

“It’s okay. Finnick has got the better chance of survival anyway, it makes more sense to focus on him.” Haymitch sent me a look.

“Do not look at me like that. I'm going to try my best but let's be honest it's not going to be enough.” I scrunched my nose up and tipped my head to Katniss. “See you out there girl on fire. It's been a pleasure meeting you.” She shook my hand.

“See you out there.”

“And you Peeta.” I called out to him. “We’ll all bump into each other again at some point I'm sure.” With that I walked off, leaving them all staring at my back in surprise. I let out a shuddering breath as I leaned against a wall, my head tipping back and my eyes shutting in a moment of peace that was over as soon as it began when they called us all to our chariots. I pushed myself off the wall and made my way back over to the horses and chariot, stroking their noses quickly before being helped up into the chariot. Dark metal and deep blue flowers at the front to represent District 4. I picked a petal and smoothed it over with the pads of my fingers, smooth and velvety. I felt a tap on my shoulder and jumped, turning to face a smirking Finnick. 

“Sugarcube?” He asked, holding them out to me. I took one hesitantly and bit into it, the sweetness spread across my tongue, coating my entire mouth. 

“Thank you.” I mumbled, sucking the rest into my cheek. Unfortunately, I finally clocked what he was wearing, or lack thereof, and almost choked on the sugar as I inhaled sharply and swallowed at the same time. I had been prepared for this to happen. But clearly not as prepared as I had thought I would be. Because there stood Finnick Odair, still smirking, biting a sugarcube with his back teeth, dressed in nothing more than a golden net tied in a knot to secure it around his waist. He was perhaps the closest thing to naked I’d ever seen a person be before, I thought to myself idly and swallowed again, the grains of sugar scratching my throat. I averted my gaze quickly as I felt heat rising in my cheeks and resolutely stared anywhere but at him. He laughed next to me.

“I didn't expect that.” I admitted quietly. “I thought you'd at least be wearing actual clothes.” I peeked at him for a second, the man was built like a greek god. All muscle and tan skin and just unfairly perfect. 

“My stylist is of the belief that the more they see of me the better.” He held out a hand towards me. “I don't think we've been properly formally introduced. I'm Finnick Odair.” My heart broke in my chest at his words but I shook his hand and whispered my own name back as the chariots began to move forwards. I smoothed out the creases in the delicate fabric of my dress and plastered a pleasant expression on my face just as the noise of the Capitol hit my ears. And we were out. Parading down the Avenue of Tributes with people cheering for us yet again, but this time multiplied by a million. It was the one event of the week that every single person in the Capitol came to see and they all blurred together in a mass of whirling colours. I smiled faintly and tapped a small raised gem sewn into the sleeve of my dress. Immediately, water began to trickle down from my tiara. It seemed to have a life of its own and left cold trails on my skin. It touched the fabric of my dress and a brilliant blue bloomed from the patch. As it trickled further down, the rest of my dress turned similar shades until the water stopped flowing and collected in a pool at the hem of my dress, dripping slightly and leaving a damp patch on the surface of the chariot. I gazed up at myself on the projections as the people went wild and threw flowers at us, hollering for our attention. The top of the dress had become a dark blue the colour of the deepest parts of the ocean and it faded into a powdery blue the colour of the flowers that had lined my mothers porch years ago. I looked like a queen of the sea. My dress was a representation of the ocean and of District 4, of my home. Megara had outdone herself and I would wear it with pride. So I waved and blew kisses to people, a smile as bright as the sun on my face. I could hear the commentary vaguely in the background. Exclamations of how they had never quite seen something like that before, how beautiful the dress was, how perfect it was for me, for their angel. Others had attempted to copy the artificial flames but compared to the original they seemed like cheap knockoffs. Hardly impressive. I could understand why Megara would use water then, to make a different statement. Fire had already been seen, it was old, except for on district 12. But water, the opposite of fire. They had never seen that before and it really helped that she was styling for our district. And yet when Katniss and Peeta emerged, dressed in a blazing inferno, I was forgotten. As expected the attention all shifted to the star crossed lovers of district 12. Not that I could blame them, they were a sight to behold, even more dramatic than last year. The chariots circled and everyone waved up to President Snow. I simply nodded my head towards him, my gaze cold. Eventually we came to a stop in a semi circle and President Snow stepped up to the podium overhead.

“Welcome all to the 75th Hunger Games. We thank our tributes for their great sacrifice. We shall be sad to see them go.” With that he sends us on our way, we roll out and back where we came from. I leapt out as soon as we passed the entry way, my dress dragging along the floor, dust sticking to the damp fabric. I saw Mags waiting and brushed past her without a glance. I walked around for a bit, the architecture of the building was so new, it was clear they had it built especially for us. It was like a fortress, cameras everywhere, the thickest glass they could have found for windows, doors that couldn't be opened unless the guard stood next to them opened them for you and white walls all around. It wasn't just a training centre. It was a cage, our cage for the next week. 

I laughed. They really didn't want us going anywhere at all. And they weren't taking any chances if they could help it. They could mask it with pretences of hospitality and wishing for us to enjoy our stay but even a blind man could see that this was a prison, and one made specifically to keep us in. I pressed a button on the wall and stepped into the elevator. Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch all greeted me with nods and Johanna grinned widely at me as we started moving upwards. 

“Well well well. If it isn't the little princess. Tell me, how's life been treating you in the Capitol?” She asked, venom dripping from each word. I regarded her silently, assessing as she stripped off her dress. She had never liked me. She thought I was just some pretty little doll that the Capitol kept and never touched. They all thought that though, each and every victor knew I danced and sang and that was it. They had never been so wrong in their lives. But who was I to tell them that? It's not as if they would listen to anything I had to say. 

“Life has been,” I paused, “It's been wonderful.” I watched her eyes darken with anger as she pulled off the last of her dress, leaving it in a heap on the floor. She quickly turned to Katniss and Peeta, flashed a cat-like grin.

“Thanks. This has been fun, we should do it again sometime.” With that she flounced out of the open doors. Haymitch whistled.

“Thank you.” Katniss sent him a disgusted look and I disguised a laugh with a cough. As much as I disliked her I could admire her. She was everything the Capitol didn't want her to be and the looks on Katniss and Peetas faces were something. She was confused, he was almost impressed and Haymitch was just like me, trying to not laugh out loud at their reactions

“Johanna Mason, district 7. Won the 71st games by pretending to be weak and then killing the remaining tributes with her axe. Delightful girl.” I rolled my eyes.

“Except for if she hates your guts. So try and get her to like you.” Peeta glanced at me.

“What do you mean?”

“If I know one thing about Johanna Mason, and I think I do. It's that she doesn't care about anyone or anything. And I'm pretty sure she has a hitlist and I'm number 1 on it.” 

Before they could answer, the doors opened again and they all got out without a word, leaving me alone to go down again. I leant against the glass, looking out to see peacekeepers crawling about like insects, escorts rushing around for no reason whatsoever, tributes and mentors staying well away from the two former as if they were the plague. The doors pinged open and I made my way down the corridor. I pushed through the double doors and was met with expectant looks from everyone. Mags, Lysander and Finnick all sat at the table. 

“I'm not hungry.” I said quickly before they could even ask me to sit. 

I practically ran to my room and threw myself on the bed, silk sheets scrunching up under my weight. The door clicked open and I looked up to see Megara standing there with an eyebrow raised.

“They want me to convince you to come out. But I've got better plans for tonight.” She pulled out two tubs of ice cream and a plate of intricately decorated cakes and biscuits. She set them down on the table and waved me over. 

“First of all, get changed. There's clothes in the drawers. Second, by my logic if they really wanted you to sit and eat dinner with them they would do it themselves. Third, I brought food,” She picked up a spoon and dug into a tub of ice cream, “And I'm not waiting for you to start. Plus,” She grinned, teeth coated in chocolate,”I want to know everything.”

Taglist:

@nekee-lilac02 @hinata7346 @bambikitten @the-lonely-abyss @mxacegrey @m-maxie-ie @not-aya @camatchoum @maw1dk @avoxrising @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @somdreamy @thehairington86 @millzluvrs @val-writesstuff @erindiggory @reader-bookling123 @elisa20beth @maxinehufflepuffprincess @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @mystargirl-interlude @ponkaniee @missunicorn @thatonegayloser616 @livibbu @cherrsnut @honethatty12 @purplelavin @user123453226780536 @littleanubis21

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── PURSUIT // ONE

Series Synopsis: When your cousin goes missing right before he can challenge the Champion of your region, you must embark on a journey of your own in the hopes that one day, you might finally find him — wherever he may be.

Chapter Synopsis: You decide to embark on a journey. However, when you release the Pokémon that Shoei gave you before he left, you realize that you’ve met her once already.

Series Masterlist

Pairing(s): Nagi x Reader, Barou & Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.3k

Content Warnings: pokémon au except i make the world emo and infest it with blue lockers, angst, character death, familial bonds, found families, male-female FRIENDSHIPS, a slow burn so insane the main love interest isn’t even in a solid amount of chapters, it’s my world i do what i want which means liberties are taken, near death experiences, this story is long bro literally everything happens in it the amount of arcs i have planned is insane, original characters because reader will NOT be the only girl i refuse to write in conditions like that, this is being written as if gen vi is the last generation to come out because i cba to catch up on new pokémon lore

A/N: okay so here’s the ACTUAL first chapter of pursuit (there is a prologue though so please read that if you haven’t yet) LSKDFJSD tbh i was expecting to get further in the story with this one than i actually did but oh well!! anyways the first of reader’s traveling companions will be introduced next chapter so feel free to guess who it is hehe (hint: it is a blue locker)

tag list (send an ask to be added): @sharkissm @koffeekat @noble-17

“You’re a trainer, aren’t you?” the police officer said. She was squinting at your license, which displayed your name and status. You furrowed your brow at her, wondering how that was even relevant, and then slowly, you nodded.

“Yes, I am. One Pokémon,” you said.

“What kind?” she said. The Gogoat by her desk sighed, getting up and spinning in a circle, adjusting its position so that it could lay its head on her lap instead of atop its hooves. You took your Pokéball off of your belt, setting it on the desk in front of you and shrugging.

“No idea. Shoei gave it to me before he left,” you said. “He told me it’s the destructive type, so I shouldn’t release it until I’m ready to go on a journey of my own.”

She wrinkled her nose, muttering something under her breath that you couldn’t quite make out but which probably referred to how you were taking advantage of the league’s goodwill, and then she handed your license back to you.

“You’ve been coming and asking us to look for your cousin, Shoei Barou, for the past couple of years,” she said. “And you get the same answer every time, correct?”

“Yes, but—” you began. She cut you off before you could continue, her expression severe, her fingers resting atop your Pokéball in impatience. They were painted, and the sparkling navy winked in the harshness of the overhead lights.

“Like we previously discussed, you’re a trainer,” she said. “Why don’t you begin your own journey and look for him yourself?”

You had considered the idea before. You had a Pokémon, though you knew not which sort it was, and thanks to Shoei, your registration was already completed, so when it came to legality, there was nothing stopping you.

“I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t know anything about training or battling or — or any of that. And we’re so far from Lumiose that it’s not like I can go to the professor for help.”

“You’re in secondary school, and all they do over there is study. You probably know much more than an average trainer, especially starting out,” she said.

“It’s all theory, though,” you said. “Nothing to do with actual fieldwork.”

She rolled the ball towards you. You caught it before it could fall off the edge of the desk, clipping it back to your belt with a murmured apology.

“Most trainers don’t even have that, but they manage, don’t they? This really is your best option, Miss L/N. Regardless, this station will no longer hear your complaints,” she said. “The so-called case of Shoei Barou isn’t one that we are interested in investigating. There are actualdisappearances and crimes that warrant our attention.”

“I see,” you said. “Well. Thank you for your time.”

The Gogoat huffed as it watched you leave, and you gave it one final backwards glance before the door to the small office shut and you were left standing by yourself in the lobby.

Coumarine City felt smaller nowadays. When you were younger, it had seemed so vast as to be unknowable, but now, you could count the steps between the Pokémon Center, the Gym, the school, and your house without batting an eye. You had changed, Shoei had left, and yet the old footpaths were still exactly the same. It felt incongruous, disingenuous even. You thought that there should’ve been some great marker of the shift, some expansion of the bustling place, but there never was.

“Mother, father,” you said that night when you were all eating dinner together. Your mother’s Espurr was watching you with her wide lavender eyes, though the glare of your father’s Heliolisk was enough to dissuade her from any thievery, and you sat across from your parents, your knife clinking against the edge of your plate when you set it down. “I’m thinking of becoming a trainer.”

“You already are a trainer,” your father said, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin.

“I mean, going on a journey and all. Like a proper trainer,” you said. The napkin fluttered out of your father’s grasp, and your mother’s eyes widened against her will. They, like Shoei’s parents, did not yet believe that his disappearance was out of the ordinary, but there it was a sort of wishful thinking. None of them considered it to be strange because they did not want it to be. Because that meant that he might be in the kind of trouble that they were powerless to rescue him from, and that powerlessness was something that they were not ready to accept.

“A journey?” your mother said, her voice breaking for a moment. You knew what she was saying, though she did not speak it aloud: that going on a journey was what took Shoei from you all, and that she could not survive it if you vanished, too. You understood. It was why you had delayed for so long — your parents, your dear parents, how could you leave them when you were so ill-prepared, when you did not even have a great desire to do so in the first place?

“Yes,” you said. Your Pokéball, which was still on your belt, warmed again, and you wondered if your Pokémon could understand what you were saying. Was she curious at the prospect of going on such an adventure? Did she long to battle? Or were you simply reading into things too much? The warmth could mean a million things, or it could mean nothing at all, and you’d be none the wiser. “The police department recommended it.”

“Why would they do that?” your father said.

“They told me it’s the only route I have left for finding Shoei,” you said.

“Y/N, you know—”

“No, I don’t!” you burst out before your mother could finish. She frowned at you, clearly taken aback, and you ducked your head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t agree. This isn’t just some run-of-the-mill training jaunt he’s on, and we all know that. If nobody else will do anything, then what choice do I have? He gave me a Pokémon. It’s about time I use her, anyways.”

This time, the ball grew hot enough to almost scald your skin through the fabric of your pants, and that was how you knew for a fact that it wasn’t a figment of your imagination. She was trying to say something, and you had an inkling that it was related to this half-baked plan of yours.

Your parents exchanged looks. Sometimes you thought that they must be able to communicate with their eyes alone, because neither of them said a word, yet within seconds, they were turning towards you in unison, both a peculiar mix of exasperated and concerned and, if you really read into it, proud.

“If you think it’s best, then we can’t exactly stop you,” your mother said.

“We haven’t been able to stop you since Shoei made you a trainer,” your father added, smiling ruefully. “That reckless cousin of yours. I’m sure he had good intentions with it, but he could’ve at least asked first!”

At this you could only chuckle, because all of you knew as well as each other that Shoei wasn’t really the type to ever ask for permission. Not once in his life had he ever done such a thing, and even imagining him doing so felt like you were going against his character.

“I’ll leave soon,” you said. “Once I settle my affairs with the school. They’ll probably be happy to see me go. I’ve never really fit in with the rest of my classmates.”

It didn’t matter that you were one of the best students there. All that your teachers and peers and principal saw was the Pokéball on your belt, which glowed like a beacon, alerting them all to how you were different. You weren’t like the others. You relied on your trainer’s stipend to pay for your tuition, and your Pokémon was the battling sort instead of a docile companion occasionally employed to defend you from a wilder Pokémon’s aggression.

People placed bets about what kind of Pokémon you must have. They never told you, but you were aware of it anyways. Some of them were kinder, presuming that it was an Espurr like your mother’s, or perhaps a Helioptile, the pre-evolution of your father’s Heliolisk. Those who liked you very much — or very little, if they meant it in a mocking way — claimed it must be one of those more elegant types. Perhaps the rainbow serpent Milotic, or a pale, iridescent-winged Butterfree. Others, who found great pleasure in looking down on you, assured their friends that it was a small, mousy Rattata, purple and fat and nervous, with quivering ears and overgrown teeth.

Even you did not know. Shoei had not bothered to tell you before he had left, and you had not yet released her, so whenever people slyly asked you which battle-partner rested on your hip, you could only shrug and tell them that you weren’t certain. This was almost always met with disdain, for if they had braved asking you, then they had the kind of curiosity which couldn’t be sated with such a noncommittal and vague answer.

When you got to school the next day, you rubbed your Gogoat companion on its soft cheek. It cocked its head at you, obviously confused — it didn’t know that this was the last time it would see you, though when you smiled at it sadly and murmured goodbye, its ears drooped, and you thought that it must understand in its own way.

Instead of going to class, you went directly to the principal’s office. She was a tall woman with a face like a Geodude’s, permanently set in a severe frown that was only exacerbated by the slicked-back knot she kept her thinning hair in, and she had never once said a kind word to you. You didn’t know if she was incapable or if it was just that you did not pay enough money to draw it out of her.

“Miss L/N,” she said when you walked in without knocking. She was hunched over a stack of papers, and she did not look up when you entered. In the corner, her black-and-violet Grumpig looked at you, its beady eyes the same shade as the dark pearls on its head and chest, its pink snout twitching in the same distaste it always showed you. “You should be in class.”

“I’m leaving,” you said. You knew it was abrupt even as you said it, but there was no point in delicacy at this late stage. Your mind was made up, and there was little chance that the woman before you would try to stop you, so what cause did you have for tiptoeing around the matter?

“Leaving?” she said. That piqued her interest enough that she looked up at you, her glasses sliding down her nose. Pushing them back up, she narrowed her eyes. “On a journey, I presume?”

“That’s correct,” you said. She didn’t ask you why, only pressing her lips into a thin line, white around the wrinkled edges from the force of it.

“It’s about time,” she said.

“Yes,” you said.

“We at the school wish you luck. Communications will be sent out regarding the reimbursement of your tuition for the rest of the semester,” she said, rattling it off in a robotic, trained voice that almost put you to sleep.

“Thank you,” you replied, just as mechanically. “If that is all?”

“I would suggest you visit the Pokémart before leaving,” she said.

“I was already planning on it,” you said. “But I appreciate your counsel.”

You turned to the door, your fingers resting on the polished handle as you prepared to open it. Before you could push it down, however, the principal cleared her throat, motioning with her hand for you to stop. Her Grumpig’s ears swiveled in distress, which was odd coming from such a self-assured species, and her own expression was a similar blend of anxious and intrigued.

“Hold on,” she said. “Release your Pokémon first. I wish to see it.”

“New policy?” you said, raising an eyebrow at her. As far as you knew, school officials had no right to demand you release your Pokémon for them, especially given that you were leaving the institution, but it wasn’t like you read the code of conduct regularly or anything like that.

To your surprise, she shook her head. “Personal curiosity.”

The principal’s office wasn’t exactly the place you had dreamed of releasing your partner for the first time, but then again it was just as good as any other location, so why delay? Plus, at least this way the Grumpig was there to corral any unruliness should it manifest — some kinds of Pokémon enjoyed testing their trainers, and though you didn’t think Shoei would have given you one of those sorts on purpose, it remained that the dispositions which agreed with him weren’t always the sort that the general populace found tolerable.

“Alright,” you said. Unclipping the ball from your belt, you pressed the seal once to enlarge it, rolling it in your palm while you waited for the principal to give you some kind of signal. She nodded, and you tossed the Pokéball in the air, triggering the mechanism which would release its contents from stasis and allow her to reform in the real world.

Even before your Pokémon had fully coalesced, the Grumpig was squealing in fright, crashing backwards into the wall, the whites of its eyes showing, its breaths shallow as its chest heaved. You frowned, because there was no reason that it should be so frightened of a relatively low-level Pokémon such as yours, but then an eerie howl stabbed into your eardrums and you understood at once.

Your Pokémon came up to just below your waist, and she had short black fur, pointed ears, and a red muzzle. Bony ridges criss-crossed her back, her ankles, and her forehead, giving her a menacing appearance that was only furthered by the knife-sharp fangs peeking out of her mouth and the growl rumbling in the back of her throat.

“Houndour?” you said. At the sound of her name, she shifted towards you, and immediately her tail began wagging, her mouth opening as she panted happily. A lump formed in your throat the longer you stared at her, and then you crouched, wrapping your arms around her muscular shoulders. She smelled spicy and hot but also sweet, the way pepper jelly or cinnamon tasted, and her nose was cold when she pressed it to your cheek in a fond greeting.

“Your Pokémon is a Houndour?” the principal said. Houndour cocked her head at the principal, one ear still turned towards the Grumpig in the corner, the other pricked forwards at the woman.

“Not just any Houndour,” you said, straightening but still keeping a hand atop Houndour’s head. “Shoei’s Houndour’s sister.”

The principal was wary now, she had been ever since you had released Houndour, and for good reason — the species had an ominous reputation, and most people thought that they and their evolutionary counterpart, Houndoom, were beasts sent to drag humans to hell for any perceived wrongdoings. To make things worse, any sense of comfort that her Grumpig might’ve afforded her was vanished, because it could do nothing against Houndour, who as a dark type was immune to psychic attacks.

“How do you know?” she said.

“I know,” you said. Houndour sighed, the exasperated exhale releasing a wisp of smoke that curled and dissipated into the air above her. “Well, that’ll quell the bets. I guess nobody managed to guess correctly.”

“Nobody would’ve!” the principal burst out, taking out a Pokéball of her own and returning the Grumpig before putting the ball in her desk drawer. “Who in their right mind would give a dark type to a beginning trainer?”

“Not all of them are like that,” you said. “You’d know that if you ever read the material that all of your students are forced to sit through. Of course, no one in their right mind would give someone without any other Pokémon a Sneasel or a Purrloin, but as a general rule, you won’t find a Pokémon more loyal to their trainer than a Houndour. Anyways, this one is special.”

It wasn’t her place to question you further, so whistling for Houndour to follow you, you slipped out of the office and left the school behind for good.

As you walked to the Pokémart, you noticed that people gave you a wide berth, eyeing the Pokémon trotting along at your side with no small amount of suspicion. Houndour paid them no mind, though, and so neither did you, humming to yourself, entirely relieved that Shoei knew you well enough to give you her.

“You’re a first-time trainer?” the cashier at the Pokémart said, peering over the counter at Houndour, who blinked back at him innocently. “Okay…I suppose you’ll need potions and some basic Pokéballs, then. Twenty of each should last you until you can make it to the next town, I’d say, if not further.”

“That sounds good,” you said.

“Do you want to pay for those on account or in cash?” he said.

“What does on account mean?” you said.

“It’s a way for trainers to get necessary supplies even if they’re lacking the immediate funds. Basically, everybody who buys from a Pokémart gets an account created for them, and they can choose to put their purchases on that account and pay them off at a later date,” he said.

“That sounds easily exploitable by someone who doesn’t mean to ever pay back,” you said.

“Balances are due every month, the day after stipends are released. You’ll accrue interest on them after that, and if it’s been too long, your account will be frozen and authorities will be contacted,” he said with a shrug. “It really is meant to help people out, but the choice is yours.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to come back here in a month’s time regardless, so it doesn’t matter,” you said.

“No, no, they can be paid off at any official Pokémart,” he said. “Of course they took that into consideration.”

“I see,” you said. “Then put it all on my account, if that’s alright.”

“Perfectly fine by me,” he said, typing something into his computer, fingers flying over the keyboard.

Your stipend for the month had gone into your tuition, and until you got your reimbursements figured out, you’d rather not waste any more money unless it was an emergency. Besides, if the option was there, you supposed you might as well familiarize yourself with it.

“Is that everything, do you think?” you said.

“Unless you want an item for your Pokémon to hold in battle,” he said.

“An item?” you said. Although you knew so much about Pokémon biology and various scientific theories regarding them, you hardly had a clue about even these most basic concepts of battle. They weren’t considered important for those of you at the school to learn; after all, besides you, no one was even registered to be a trainer, so why would they waste the time?

The cashier snorted. “I guess you really are a first-time trainer.”

“Obviously,” you said. “Why would I lie about that?”

“Pokémon can hold items — according to league rules, it’s a maximum of one, though it’s also fine if you don’t give them any — that’ll aid them in battle. Some trainers will give them berries that’ll negate side effects from various moves, and others will give them stones to hold that’ll boost their stats. It’s up to you, though. Plenty of people don’t give them any items at all. You’ll have to get rid of the one your Houndour already has if you want to use one while battling, though,” he said.

“What do you mean? She doesn’t have any items,” you said. He clicked his tongue, pointing at Houndour’s neck.

“That counts, even if it doesn’t do anything,” he said. You followed the line of his index finger, furrowing your brow when you realized he was referencing the silky red collar tied in a bow at her scruff. There was a stone embedded in it that sparkled at her throat, and even before the cashier could say something, you were shaking your head.

“No, that stays,” you said. “It’s important. Maybe not for battle, but for me.”

“Alright,” the cashier said, clearly unaffected. “It’s your decision. Here are the potions and Pokéballs you asked for.”

He slid the assortment of things across the counter, and you swept them into your bag, which had already been emptied of your books and the rest of your school supplies. Waving at him, you exited the Pokémart, making your way to your house for what would probably be the last time in a while.

“You’re quite a bit bigger than the last time I saw you,” you said to Houndour as you walked, scratching her under the chin idly when you reached the road and had to wait for a car to pass by. “When’d Shoei get around to capturing you, too, huh?”

Your father had taken off of work to wish you farewell, and your mother was at home as she always was, so you did not even have to call out their names when you entered the house. They were waiting in the foyer, Heliolisk and Espurr by their sides, though when Houndour padded in behind you, Espurr hissed, darting to hide behind your mother’s leg.

“A Houndour?” your father said, raising his eyebrows. Houndour barked at him; you couldn’t quite tell what the bark meant, but it was a harsh enough sound that your father winced at it. “What was Shoei thinking?”

“I know her,” you said. “That’s probably it.”

“What do you mean?” your mother said. “Since when?”

“Uh, it’ll probably make you angry,” you said.

“Huh?” your father said. “It’s not like we can do anything about it now.”

“You’ve got us curious,” your mother added.

“It’s kind of a long story,” you admitted. “But as with most things, it begins and ends with Shoei.”

Your cousin lived on the very edge of Coumarine City, on the outskirts right by the winding road to the cliffs and the coast, and so whenever your family visited his, the two of you would sneak off to the beach to play. It was dangerous, because neither of you had Pokémon, but with your youth came this notion of impunity, and since nothing had happened thus far, both of you believed that it would continue in that way until the end of time.

“I’m going to be a trainer one day,” Shoei told you, helping you down from the narrow ledge that you had to leap from to make it to the sand of the shore. You were still too frightened to jump by yourself, and he was patient enough that he did not tease you for it, only taking your hand and letting you clutch his arm for balance.

“Of course,” you said. “I will, too. It’s not uncommon.”

“Not for the stipend,” he said. “I’m going to be a proper trainer, with a full team and everything. You’ll see. I’ll do the league challenge and join the conference once I have all of my badges, and then after that I’ll beat the Elite Four and Mr. Mikage. Then I’ll be Champion. The best trainer in all of Kalos. That’s what I mean.”

“How, though? Neither of your parents have battling Pokémon, so you can’t use their partners to catch your own, and we’re way too far for you to go to the professor’s lab in Lumiose and get one of the official starters from there,” you said.

“I don’t know,” Shoei said. “But I’ll figure it out.”

“Okay,” you said.

“Do you think I can do it?” he said.

“You can do anything,” you said. His chest puffed out a bit at that, and he grinned at you. He hardly ever smiled, so you took it as a treat, beaming back at him.

“That’s right,” he said. “I can do anything.”

“Ooh, look at these!” you said, stopping in your tracks and bending over to dig around in the sand, pulling out two twin stones with a flourish.

It was your favorite hobby, finding shells and pretty things to admire before you tossed them back into the sea, but there was something different about these two. There were clouds in the air, and yet they shone as brightly as if the sun’s rays were concentrated on them, a soft pink shade like dawn, cut through with a streak of black as dark as a shadow. Weathered by the tides, they were slick in your hand, and you dropped them into Shoei’s pocket for safekeeping.

“You want to take those home? Normally you throw shards of sea glass back into the ocean,” Shoei said.

“They’re nicer than normal,” you said. “You can keep them, if you want. Like a present.”

He scoffed. “I’ll probably just throw them away.”

You pouted. “If that’s what you prefer.”

He could only maintain his gruff expression for a moment before softening and ruffling your hair. “I was only joking. I’ll put them on my bookshelf and think of you every time I see them.”

Immediately, you brightened, because back then your mood’s rise and fell was almost entirely dependent on him. He noticed, but he only wrinkled his nose at you, grabbing you by the back of the shirt before you could fall into a tide pool.

“Watch where you’re going,” he said, holding you in place as you craned your neck in wonder. The water was so clear you could see every little plant and shell growing in its depths; at the bottom, there were even a Krabby scuttling about, though when it noticed you, it dashed back to hide amongst the stones, too shy to provoke you even though you had no Pokémon of your own.

“It’s so pretty, Shoei,” you said. “Can we look for more?”

“Sure,” he said. “Our parents won’t be expecting us for a bit, so as long as we don’t go too far and remember the way back home, it shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Yay!” you said, tugging on his sleeve. “Let’s go that way! Or, wait, no. That way!”

He poked you in the side as you tried to make up your mind. “How about both? Just choose one to start with, and then we can head in the other direction afterwards.”

“Good idea,” you said, picking at random and setting off with Shoei in tow.

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon wandering up and down along the line of pebbly sand where the waves broke, pointing out bits of shells and smaller Pokémon to one another when you saw them. It was dangerous, no doubt about it, but the danger added a certain thrill to the otherwise innocuous activity, and so neither of you minded too much.

Some hours passed — was it two or three? You didn’t know — before you heard a bone-chilling sound, one which wasn’t supposed to be heard around Coumarine City but which was engraved into both of your brains from various horror films regardless.

“Was that a Houndour?” you said, pressing closer to Shoei. “I thought that they were only found around Geosenge Town, though?”

You were suddenly hyper-aware of the sun setting in the distance, as well as the fact that we had somehow managed to travel far enough from your typical spot that it would take you ages to find your way home. The Houndour howled again, and Shoei scowled deeply, the lines of it etched into his forehead.

“Let’s investigate,” he said.

“What? Shouldn’t we be running away from it?” you said, yelping and following as he charged towards the source of the sound.

“Either it’s a trainer’s Pokémon, in which case I want their advice about going on a journey, or it’s somewhere it’s not supposed to be, in which case…” he trailed off, a determined set to his mouth as the two of you ran. “We just need to be quick so we can get home in time.”

It was a few minutes later that you skidded to a stop in front of a small cave with a Houndour sitting in front of it, howling and howling. Now that you were faced with the Pokémon, you realized it was not as large and intimidating as the movies and its reputation made it sound; for some reason, its cry, too, felt more mournful than anything.

When it noticed you and Shoei, it flattened its ears and tucked its tail, rocking back on its haunches and baring its teeth with a warning growl. Shoei held out a hand, averting his eyes and speaking in a soft whisper so unlike his typical rough tone.

“We only want to help you,” he said. “How’d you end up here, anyways?”

The Houndour stared at him for a heart-stopping instant. You were as still as you could be — even if the Pokémon didn’t seem as demonic as it did in the movies, it remained that it was considerably more powerful than a Krabby could ever hope to be, and furthermore had a famously more aggressive temperament than the skittish denizens of the tide pools.

Flames coated the Houndour’s mouth, and you cringed away from it, but Shoei was still, not gazing at it directly but refusing to back down, either. The Houndour took him in before abruptly extinguishing the fire, tilting its head towards the mouth of the cave and then whining at you entreatingly.

“Sounds like he wants us to follow him,” Shoei said, ducking so he could enter the cave. You crept in behind him, narrowing your eyes against the darkness; although you did not complain, the Houndour must’ve sensed your discomfort, because with a rumbling from deep within its stomach, it formed an ember, holding it in its mouth instead of spitting it out so that it could light the path forward.

When you reached the hollowed out main room of the cave, the Houndour stopped, barking and pawing at the stone. Shoei brushed the sand off of the Houndour’s back and then knelt so that he could inspect what the Pokémon had brought you to see: another Houndour, this one lying limply on the cold, stony floor.

“There’s two of them?” you said.

“If I had to guess, they got separated from their pack during that storm we had a few days ago. The rain would’ve washed away all of the scents they found familiar, so their best option was trying to find some kind of shelter,” Shoei said. “That must be how she got hurt.”

The smaller Houndour’s paw was matted and sticky with blood, hence why she could not get up, though she did lift her head a little, wagging her tail at you when she noticed you were there.

“They’ve come so far,” you said. “Why didn’t they stop at Shalour? That’s in between here and Geosenge.”

“With all of those birds hanging around there? They would’ve been Mandibuzz food in a heartbeat, especially the injured one,” he said.

“I see,” you said. Mandibuzz weren’t native to the Kalos region, but the gym leader of Shalour City specialized in flying types, so he was always introducing new species to the area. “What should we do?”

“The wound’s old. If we can clean it off, it’ll heal on its own. She probably has Flash Fire for an ability, so a burn won’t do her any harm, which means the brother can cauterize it without an issue,” he said, scooping the Houndour up without much ceremony. Normally, it’d be impossible, but she was small for her kind, and Shoei had always been stronger than most his age.

The older Houndour lit the way as you emerged onto the beach, where Shoei found a nearby tide pool, using the briny water to rinse the blood from the wound. The female Houndour was trembling, no doubt because the water was an unpleasant feeling for a fire type such as herself, but there was nothing to be done about it besides working quickly, and admirably, she did not make a sound the entire time Shoei was working.

“This is the kind of thing you have to deal with as a trainer,” he said once the paw was cleaned and the pink gash was exposed to the sun. “Of course, a potion would cure this in a minute, but we don’t have any on hand, so it’ll have to wait. Hey, you. Can you use Ember on her injury?”

The older Houndour seemed uncertain, but to your surprise, he did not protest, only creeping forward and nudging his sister in apology before breathing a fire the size of your palm directly onto the wound. Curiously, she did not react beyond glancing at the light it gave off, and Shoei scratched behind her ears.

“Is that the effect of Flash Fire?” you said.

“Yup,” he said, waiting for the flame to die out and then lifting the Houndour in his arms again. “It’s common amongst Houndour.”

“What does it do, exactly?” you said.

“Gives them immunity to fire-based attacks,” he said. “All in all, it makes sense, given that they hunt in tandem. It wouldn’t do for the pack to injure its own members while chasing after prey, yeah? In fact, fire only boosts their special attacks.”

“Special attacks?” you said.

“Ah, it’s a league term for non-physical attacks,” he said. “They needed a way to differentiate it for bettors, since most Pokémon are only good in one area or the other.”

“I get it now,” you said. “So, like, being hit with an Ember would make her own Ember stronger?”

“Exactly,” he said, setting the Houndour down where you had found her and patting you on the head. “Good job. You’ll make a great trainer yourself someday. Maybe almost as good as me.”

“I don’t want to be a trainer,” you said. “I just want to live at home with everyone and go to school and be happy.”

“Is that so?” he said. “Then that’s what you should do.”

Arranging the Houndour into a more comfortable position, he turned to the older one, a serious expression on his face. The Houndour was still, his tail held straight in the air — alert, wary, but not distressed. You knew that much about Pokémon behavior from your early-level classes.

“Is there an easier way to our house from here?” he said to the Houndour. “Take us to it if there is.”

“How would it even know where we live?” you said.

“There’s very few Pokémon with a better sense of smell than the Houndoom line,” he said. “Go on, then, Houndour. Take us home. She’ll be alright for the few minutes you’re gone.”

The older Houndour gave his sister a worried look, but he must’ve felt as though he owed Shoei a debt, for he slunk out of the cave with his nose against the ground, nostrils flared as he tried to pick out a trail. You and Shoei watched for a few minutes before the Houndour suddenly froze, raising one of his front paws and extending his muzzle forward.

“What’s he doing?” you said.

“Pointing,” Shoei said, a tinge of disbelief in his voice. “I knew the Growlithe in the police force are trained to do it, but I didn’t realize that Houndour do it naturally.”

“I bet Houndour would be a great police Pokémon if people weren’t so scared of it,” you said, your sentiments towards the species far more charitable now, as the two of you followed the Houndour up a winding path that you had never even known existed.

Before the sun had even finished setting — which was miraculous, given how close to the horizon it had been when you had set out — the Houndour had led you to Shoei’s backyard. You could hear your parents talking and laughing with one another, contemplating calling you both back for dinner, and you were about to run inside when you realized Shoei was still lingering back.

Pausing in your tracks, though you doubted he noticed that you were listening to his conversation, you tried to quiet your breathing so that you could hear what he was saying to the Houndour, which was as motionless then as it had been when the two of you had first found it.

“Meet me here in a couple of days,” he said. “I’ll get a potion by then and use it on your sister’s paw so she doesn’t have any lasting side effects from the injury.”

The Houndour sneezed at Shoei, which you supposed was his way of assenting. Shoei laughed, which was a rare sound and also a wonderful one; then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him move to offer the back of his hand to the small Pokémon, who sniffed it cautiously.

“Hey, Houndour. I’m going to be a trainer one day — a Champion, in fact,” he said. “So don’t go home, okay? Even once your sister is better, don’t go home. Find me again, and come with me.”

The Houndour did not make any moves of agreement nor dissent; instead, he just disappeared into the lengthening shadows of the night, leaving you and Shoei behind in the trimmed grass of the lawn, where no wild Pokémon would ever dare to tread.

A few moments later, though, the night was split with a howl, high and sinister and uncanny, and once more Shoei laughed, because that was all the answer that he needed.

[assortedseaglass]

Borne & Bound - VI

[Masterlist]

Aemond Targaryen x OFC

(Mr Darcy!Aemond x Shieldmaiden!OFC)

Story Content: (This chapter in bold): Strong Language, Violence, Slow Burn, Smut, Canon-typical Sexism, Mentions of Incest¸ Mentions of Sexual Assault

Word Count: 6.6K

Notes: So, it’s been a few months…highly recommend reading the last chapter because I imagine everyone’s forgotten the plot. I nearly had.

I am so out of practice and this is not my finest – I read work of my friends here and marvel at the talent they possess. That you indulge my writing is a real honour, and reading your words is no longer intimidating but inspiring.

This was written for me to get back into the swing of things, and whether one or one hundred people read it, I am happy to be back.

The cold whipped Aemond’s face, harsh and blistering. Ice from the gathering storms clouds nicked his marble skin and the burn of the exposed air on his flesh hummed.

Any trace of anger, of anxiety or of rage had faded away. Amongst the clouds, high above the city, Aemond was utterly free. Free from what, he wasn’t entirely sure, but as he flew atop Vhagar’s scaled back he felt a peace the like of which he had never known.

For what felt like hours, the pair tumbled through dense cloud and bright sunburst in one endless day of freedom. He had no sense of duty, no eagerness to return to the Keep, no burden of family. Even Vhagar beneath him felt light and somehow far away. Still, she held him aloft in the sky, the steady beat of her wings taking them on, on, on.

After hours, or what could have been days, Vhagar descended below the clouds, and King’s Landing came into view. Beneath them, the waxy leaves of the Kingswood’s canopy gleamed. Aemond could just make out the world waking; the flight of birds from the trees, fires smoking from the townsfolks’ homes, a few traders making their way into the world to collect and sell their wares.

A lone rider cut a steady path along the woodland’s edge. Aemond watched a while as Vhagar’s enormous shadow followed behind them. The mane of the black horse rippled as it galloped, and even from Aemond’s position high in the sky, he could hear the thunder of its hooves.

Then, a great bell-like laugh rose into the air, pealing all around Aemond. Just as he felt, the sound was free. It warmed the very heart of him. On and on the gleeful rider laughed and Aemond found himself smiling in spite of himself. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest and beneath him, he felt Vhagar murmur too. With a gentle roll of her body, the great she-dragon leant into the wind and Aemond saw the black horse’s rider at last.

Strands of dark hair billowed in the wind, as did robes of burgundy, bronze and deepest blue. As he was with Vhagar, the rider was effortlessly attuned to their steed, moving gracefully across every furrow of the land. Another tinkle of laughter took flight into the air and Aemond leant forwards over Vhagar’s side. He reached out, as if trying to touch the rider. Vhagar’s flight was dangerously close to the ground now, and just as Aemond’s leather-covered fingertips skirted the edge of the rider’s robes, they turned over their shoulder to look up at him.

Her bonny face was flushed red, mud spattered across her cheeks, no doubt kicked up from the hooves of the immense horse. The dark hair that so exquisitely matched that of her steed still whipped about her face, but through it Aemond could make out the brilliant flash of a smile. Mischievous, wicked, taunting.

It was as though she had sunk her teeth into him with that smile. At once, the heat that filled his veins turned to ice. Vhagar’s great bulk vanished beneath him, and he fell, watching the girl laughing at him as he disappeared through the earth.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” Aemond barely heard the maid’s timid voice as he sat bolt upright in his bed. The girl stood by the windows of the chamber, a plate of fresh fruit in her hands, watching him.

Unruly blond hair swept in long strands in front of darkened his face. His naked chest, muscular and coated in a sheen of sweat, rose and fell heavily as he regained his ragged breath. One eye, unblinking and icy, stared forward, bright beneath his angry brow. The absence of the other made her shiver. She placed the plate of fruit on a table beside the window and stepped forward.

Aemond still did nothing but stare ahead of him. The gossamer curtains shrouding his bed rippled gently in the breeze from the open window. He looked straight through them, remembering the black hair of the horsemaiden and her steed.

“Your Grace?” The girl said again. A nightmare. She’d woken him from a nightmare, that was all. Or perhaps a dream. Maybe that was why he was angry. “I’ve brought breakfast, Your Grace.”

“Get out.”

Her steps faltered. Through the sweep of golden hair and fluttering fabric, she barely heard him.

“Pardon, Your Grace?” Her voice quavered, fear creeping into the words. Prince Aemond was a haunting man, that was true. The way he appeared like a spectre, his leathered boots having made no sound on the stone floors of the Keep. His unfeeling eyes, ever watching and unblinking. She had heard rumour of his fits of anger at the other servants. Still, in the ten months she had worked at the Keep, bringing food to him in the morning and lighting the fires, he had never raised his voice at her. Not yet at least.

Aemond’s hand balled into fists, the sheet beneath him crumpling. The girl stepped back. He was shaking. “Get. Out.”

“My Prince-”

“GET OUT!” The dragon within fired into life. Aemond stood abruptly, tearing at the bed’s curtains as he did so. With a squeal, and averting her eyes from the Prince’s near naked form, the maid tore from the room.

From beyond his chamber door, Aemond could hear her hurried footsteps and the shocked gasps of the Keep’s early risers.  He was used it. On any other day, they did it to his face. Storming across the room, he dressed hurriedly in his riding leathers, shoved his eyepatch aggressively over his head and made to leave the room.

How dare she, the shit-shovelling little horse-wench. From the moment she arrived he’d known nothing but her condescension and disdain. Now, even in dreams, he couldn’t escape her.

Smoothing his hair beneath the leather, Aemond passed by his dresser, pocketing his dagger in its sheath at his belt and donning his great coat. Then, struck by the stranger staring back at him from the mirror, he paused.

Wisps of blond hair stuck out from his head like spun sugar. The skin around his brow was pink from where he’d roughly donned is eyepatch. The eye that stared back at him was wild, dark despite its violet hue and ringed by purple. The usual glow of his marble skin was gone, replaced by a dull grey. Even in dreams, he couldn’t escape her. He leant against the wood and inhaled deeply.

What in the seven hells had caused this great animosity? She wasn’t the first person to mock him, nor would she be the last. And he’d met plenty a noble from far off lands as they passed through the kingdom, never to be seen again. True, he had been less than welcoming. But hadn’t he tried? Asked about her kingdom, taken her letter to the rookery. He sighed. His efforts were less than poor.

Again he smoothed his hair and straightened. After his ride with Vhagar he would, once more, try to make amends. Besides, what better way to get the upper hand of the Braedel girl than with cordial superiority. The day was set. A smirk tugging at his lips, he left his chambers and the night’s awful dream behind.

He should have known better. Were the week’s recent events not proof that while the Keep was upside down with the council and its attendees, his plans would always be dashed. No sooner had he turned left from his chambers did the young prince encounter a small Braedel delegation. A few of the calvary’s riders, and none other than the enormous Ser Herumbrand.

The knight bowed slowly to the prince, as did the other Braedels, and allowed Aemond to pass. It was as they passed each other that Herumbrand and Aemond locked eyes. The knight’s mouth did not move, but something in the twinkle of his grey eyes told Aemond that deep down he was smiling.

“She had you ratted there, son.”

Herumbrand’s last words to Aemond instantly ran through his mind. As did the humiliation of his spar with the woman from his dream.

“Ser.” Aemond said flatly, turning on his booted heel to face the knight.

“Your Grace?” The three Braedels halted and watched the prince.

“Lady Geowyth, where is she?” Best to avoid her until he had a sure plan of action that would not result in further hostility.

Ser Herumbrand waited a moment before answering. He seemed to be assessing the man before him. Aemond let him, his eye never wavering.

“With her brother, I believe, as he prepares to return to Braedel.”

A flicker of annoyance befell Aemond’s eye. “Forgive me, Ser.” He took a step forward. “‘As he prepares to return?’”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Herumbrand smiled broadly. “Lord Geodred will return to Braedel for his wedding. Lady Geowyth is to stay as the Princess’ lady-in-waiting for a time.”

With nought but a rumbled hmph, Aemond turned on his heel and stormed down the corridor. Maids and grooms parted with bowed heads at his coming and he ignored each one. Beyond the Keep the skies were blackening. He would ride Vhagar later. Deep with in the chasm of his chest he felt her settle towards slumber. She knew he would come for her by day’s end. Flying through the storm clouds was what she loved best. Better to let the clouds gather so they could really relish their time together.

Instead of making his way to Vhagar’s rocky outcrop as he had planned, Aemond treaded the well-worn stone towards the training yard, every step remembering the parries and attacks Geowyth dealt him during their spar. The way she exhausted herself trying to prove she could keep up with him, a man. He could almost feel the gentle press of the dagger she’d held at his ribs, and see the self-satisfied smile she wore when he realised its presence. And now she was to stay.

There could only be one person so scheming. Only one whose machinations would permit the young horse-maid to stay. And so it was that Aemond, on his way to sharpen his swordsmanship, burst through the ornate oaken doors that led to the queen’s ballroom.

“MOTHER!”

On the other side of the Keep, in the guest quarters, Geowyth watched with undisguised agitation as her brother and a few groomsmen packed his belongings into various trunks and bags.

From her position on the bed, she could see that he was anxious to get back to Braedel, and just as anxious to leave.

“I don’t see why you must go so soon if eam (uncle) is not so unwell. Did you not say that if he were, you would send for me? Why not take me with you?”

Geodred sighed, not looking at her as he tidied away the small writing desk covered with his studies of the mainland. “Don’t be childish.”

“I’m not being child-”

“Then trust me and stop with your pettiness,” Geowyth huffed and he ignored her. “He isn’t so unwell. Not more than when we left him, and I will send for you the moment he so much as coughs. But I am to be married, remember sweostor (sister). I may not be a husband yet, but I owe it to Folchild to prove what kind of man I will be. Thus far she has been stuck on Braedel with a sickly cynge (king), a fussing mother and a conniving father, all the while preparing singlehandedly for our marriage.”

Damn him for being so kind-hearted, Geowyth thought. Still, she couldn’t help digging in her heels and making him feel her annoyance at his abandonment. He was her brother after all.

“I wonder what sort of wife Folchild will be?” she said innocently. Geodred hummed to signify that even if his hands were busy, he was indeed listening. “When she first came to Braedel I, like you, was dazzled by her beauty. But what have we learnt of her since then?”

“I have learnt a great deal,”

She ignored him. “I cannot claim that I know her as a sister well enough to give my good opinion, but she makes you happy and that I suppose will have to do.”

“Geowyth,”

“Do you know, eam’s last letter said she has become more reserved with every visit to Braedel since we came here. No doubt your arrival home will cheer her. I’ve seen the way the women here look at you, maeg (brother). You should have come to the mainland to find a wife first. Imagine the noble ladies you could have claimed! I’ve seen even the queen giving you the once over when she thinks no-one is looking-”

“Geowyth,” Geodred said warningly.

“You could have inherited another title! Instead you get, as you say, a fussing mother-in-law and a conniving new father. No doubt he heard of eam’s ill health and descended on him like a vulture, throwing the only thing that Stanas Isle has of worth at you; Folchild herself.”

Geodred suddenly dropped the volumes of books in his hands upon the desk and interrupted her at last. In three silent strides he was at the chamber door, whispering something to one of the Keep’s servants. When he said nothing, Geowyth continued. She knew he was getting annoyed at her now, yet she couldn’t help it. It was like scratching an itch.

“And now you are to leave me here,” she said dramatically, disguising the fact that she was still hurt by this. “Drop your duty to the kingdom for duty of another kind.”

“Duty is duty, sweostor,” How could he still be so composed?

“If you say so. But I was under the impression we were sent here to make alliances and do right by Braedel. Instead, you are hurrying home so you may put your end in as soon as possi-”

“ENOUGH!” Geodred slammed his hand on the wooden poster of the bed. Geowyth flinched. “Enough.” He ran a hand over his handsome face and looked down at her. “I have done my duty here. I have impressed the king and, more importantly, the queen, for we know full well it is she running the order of things. I have made friends with the princes and demonstrated the value of our considerable calvary. And now I must return to strengthen other alliances.”

Geowyth opened her mouth to retort.

“Yes, Geowyth. I am well aware that my marriage to Folchild is to strengthen bonds with Stanas Isle and keep her father on our side. But have you stopped to think that perhaps I may love her too? Have you stopped to think at all?”

“Geodred, I-”

“If you spent your mornings with the other visiting young ladies, rather than gallivanting with Mearl, which you can do any day at home, you might understand. If you listened and learnt from our hosts rather than stirring up gossip as you did at the feast, you might understand. If you stopped of flirting with the princes and making a fool of yourself in the training yard-”

“I am not flirting!” Geowyth shouted, feeling flushed and sick in equal measure.

“-THEN YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND!” Geodred roared over her. “You are staying here because eam sees that you are a liability to our kingdom.”

Geowyth flinched like he had struck her. She needed to hear it while she was hurt, there was no other way.

“You have charmed the princess, true, but you have ruffled feathers also. How in the name of all above and below do you expect to command the renward (cavalry) when I am king? How can you expect us to trust you?” Geowyth’s eyes were watering an Geodred’s heart broke. With a shaking voice he continued. “You are hot-headed, quick to temper and to judge. We would be at war the moment you struck out on your first charge. You must learn! And staying at the keep will ensure this.”

“Geodred, please-”

“I mean it, Geowyth. The day that eam passes is growing ever closer, and I cannot afford to have such a wayward leader take my place. It is about time you realised your duty.”

“Lord Geodred,” Geodred’s head snapped to the door. Ser Herumbrand loomed in the doorway, bedecked in ceremonial battle dress. “The horses are ready.”

Geodred nodded. Herumbrand cast his eyes over the siblings. Geodred, red-faced, a little tiredness eking onto his face. Geowyth knelt on the bed with her head bowed, her face hidden by her curtain of hair but not containing her sniffles. Herumbrand left the pair as Geodred places both his hands on his sister’s shoulders.

“Come, we are away.”

“Stand up straight,”

“I am,”

“Straighter then. Our guests, your guests-”

“Father’s guests.”

“-our guests our leaving.” For the second time that week, Aemond stood on the barbican steps in the heat of the afternoon, listening to his mother and brother bicker.

All the royal family were in attendance this time. His mother, beautiful in the green of her house, auburn hair dancing in the gentle breeze, stood proud at the centre of the steps, watching with interest as the Braedel cavalry jostled with excitement; the horses eager to be on the road, their riders ready for home. Aegon looked surprisingly clean and well slept. The dark circles around his eyes were still present, and it was clear to all that he was still drunk from the night before, but he looked handsome nonetheless. Like their mother, he wore green, though darker than hers, and Aemond thought that while he might not quite pass for a prince of the realm, there was no denying his nobility.

Aemond tried not to look at his father. A crumpled heap of cloth and sallow skin had been propped up in a chair beside the eldest prince. His mouth hung open slightly, the gold mask covering his face flashing in the sun and agitating some of the horses. He could barely hold his head up to look his guests in the eye.

Only Helaena was not stood with them. The best of them, she had ventured into the crowd of warrior men and women to stand at Lady Geowyth’s side. Ser Herumbrand and a few older members of the renward watched with jovial smiles as Geowyth introduced the princess to her immense horse.

Aemond stilled with taut anticipation as Lady Geowyth took Helaena’s hand and moved it to the horse’s thick neck. Beside him, his mother shuffled on her feet. Both watched nervously. Helaena’s head was turned awkwardly away from the animal, as though trying to put some distance between herself and the horse. Lady Geowyth brushed her own dark hair from her face and whispered in Helaena’s ear. She looked just the same as when Aemond first saw her. Dark hair long and unkempt, amber eyes watchful. Her face too was just as flushed, though Aemond had put that down to her long days’ ride. Today, her cheeks were blotchy, as though she’d been crying.

It would take a fool not to see how she and Helaena complimented each other; Helaena in her light blue and gold silks, Geowyth in her dark blue and burgundy velvet. Helaena’s golden hair and Geowyth’s black. Helaena flighty and faraway, Geowyth earth-bound. When Helaena still retreated from Geowyth’s mount, the shieldmaiden took her hand and gently placed a kiss on it, murmuring something once more. Even from where he stood, Aemond could see that a small smile was playing upon Helaena’s face. Nodding at whatever Geowyth had said, Helaena allowed her to move her hand back towards the horse’s muscled neck and run it along the smooth hair there.

Aemond heard his mother exhale. He turned is good eye towards her and she smiled, proud and relieved. The corners of his mouth twitched and he turned back to the women. Geowyth had produced a shining red apple from her skirt pocket and given it to the princess. Helaena tentatively held it up for Mearl to sniff. When his bristled nose brushed her hand, Helaena giggled, and even jumped a little with glee when he began to eat it.

If it pleased his sister, Aemond supposed there was at least one good reason for Lady Geowyth to stay.

“Geowyth, astandan (come).” Geodred was standing before the king and called his sister back to her temporary position in the royal household.

“Helaena,” Alicent called gently. The two came at once. Helaena near gliding across the barbican, Geowyth following dutifully in her wake. Her role as lady-in-waiting had begun. She bowed before the king and queen when she reached the steps upon which they stood, then settled behind Helaena, now nestled between her brothers. All in the barbican and on the steps watched as Geodred approached the royals, Ser Herumbrand a step behind him.

A ripple of pride ran through the renward when their leader dropped to his knees before Viserys, so that the king may look upon him. Taking is frail hand, Geodred kissed his knuckles then covered it with his own.

“My King,” he began gently so only those closest to him could hear. “A thousand thanks for your hospitality this last week, and a thousand more for your council. I have learnt more than you can know. I shan’t forget this kindness.”

At his words, Viserys leant forward. A small gasp escaped Alicent’s lips and Ser Harrold stepped forward, ready to catch the king should he fall. Viserys raised a hand to quell them, and Geodred bowed his head closer to the king’s. This time, none could hear the whisper that passed between them, but when the king was finished, Geodred stood and bowed his head. Herumbrand followed suit, then clasped the hand of Ser Harrold in friendship.

The rest of Geodred’s goodbyes were easy. The queen beamed at him as he made his farewells and thanked her for allowing his sister to stay. All looked at Geowyth, but still her head was reverently bowed. After bowing to Aegon, Geodred patted the prince on the shoulder jovially. Heir to heir, young man to young man.

His deepest bow was bestowed upon Helaena. “Good princess, I shall not speak for my sister, but will say this. I am certain your friendship will do more for our kingdom than our cavalry or your protection.” Watching her eyes to make sure she understood, Geodred took her hand in his. He did not kiss it but held it a mere moment before letting go.

“Prince Aemond,” Geodred nodded and Geowyth, glancing up, noticed that Aemond did the same. He was the only who had. “My deepest thanks for your tutelage. Were it not for your direction, I would not have known where to begin. I only wish I could know more-”

Aemond hummed in gratitude. A warm, gentle noise. Helaena turned to look happily at her little brother, and Geowyth wondered if this sweet sound was usually reserved just for her.

“-and if you ever want to try your tongue at Braehic, or find yourself flying west, please do visit. We have plenty of land for your Vhagar, and livestock too.”

“Thank you, Ser.” Aemond held out his gloved hand and, without hesitation or worry for etiquette, Geodred grasped it in his with a broad smile. It was only then, when he’d addressed all the royals, did Geodred make his way back along the line. Helaena had already stepped sideways towards her brother-husband to reveal Geowyth.

She was looking up now, waiting for him to address her. She was the lady-in-waiting of a princess, and he a visitor of the family. In this setting he was no longer just her brother. He outranked her, and then some. Geodred sighed and stepped forward. Helaena turned away, pushing Aegon towards their parents. Aemond too bowed his head, but he could’t help but listen.

When Geodred took Geowyth’s hands, it was only then she felt able to speak.

“What did the king say?” Her voice was hoarse and quiet.

“I cannot tell,” he said solemnly, looking at her hawk-like eyes. They were not so bright as usual, their argument having dulled their colour. Pain welled in his chest and he took her face in his hands. It was just them now. Geowyth, he and their uncle Galan.

“I sorry, Geowyth,” he whispered. Aemond’s ears pricked with intrigue.

“You were right to say it,” Geowyth whispered, her voice wobbling. Say what? Geodred sighed again.

“Beon til, beon waeren (be good, be dutiful). I will send for you when the time comes.” Geowyth nodded fervently as she attempted to keep her tears at bay. “Deos forhtlic (who’s afraid)?” Geodred brought his forehead to his sister’s.

“Not I,” she said firmly. They paused a moment, their foreheads pressed together, savouring the feeling. This was the moment everything would change. Their next meeting would be the dawn of Galan’s death, and Geodred’s ascension. Who would take from them this last moment of normality?

With a swift kiss of his sister’s cheek, Geodred hurried down the steps towards his mount. Hurried, so he didn’t change his mind and drag her back to Braedel with him. Aemond watched as Ser Herumbrand fleetingly placed his forehead against Geowyth’s too. It was surely some Braedel tradition. He imagined pressing his forehead to Ser Harrold’s. He let out a sharp laugh and all but his father looked at him.

“Renward,” Geowyth called from atop his mount. Ser Herumbrand mounted his own horse beside him and placed the helmet adorned with horsehair atop is head. Just as when they had arrived, the Braedel cavalry displayed their kinship with the horses that gave them their name. This time though, Aemond did not scoff. Owing to his growing fondness of Lord Geodred, he found it admirable of the small island kingdom. Just as Geodred tired to learn about the ways of the mainland, Aemond found himself wanting to know more about Braedel.

A great clatter of metal and horses’ hooves echoed across the stone walls of the barbican; the delegation from Braedel had begun their slow journey home. At Aemond’s side, Helaena shuffled to stand beside Geowyth, holding her hand tightly. Tears were gathering in Geowyth’s eyes, her jaw set as her lips trembled.

It was as Aemond looked from Helaena and Geowyth’s entwined hands to the latter’s eyes that she looked at him. Wild and childlike in her sadness, the amber of them shocked him, as they had done the first time he saw her. He looked away quickly and instead caught the eye of his mother. She smiled knowingly and he tutted.

“Geowyth,” Helaena’s sweet voice was tender with concern. “You may have today as your own. Go, now.”

Geowyth hesitated. She cast her eyes towards her retreating house then, at Helaena’s insistence, curtsied to the royal family and made her way up the steps and into the comfort of the Keep.

“Aemond.” It was Helaena, speaking lowly to him.

“Helaena,” he smiled softly at her.

“I think you should have the day as your own too. You have not been of sorts. Perhaps the three of us could ride later?” Aegon looked briefly over his sister-wife’s head at his brother and shrugged noncommittally.

“If you insist,”

“I do,” Helaena smiled as the rest of the royal household made their way inside, the thunder of the calvary now a mere rumble.

Peace at last.

Aemond daredn’t say no to Helaena, certainly not when she had commanded him to take the day as his own. Not even their mother could refuse. She was so frequently flustered by her daughter’s odd pronouncements that she found saying anything to her a difficulty.

Still flushed with happiness at Geodred’s assessment for him, Aemond strode through the Keep with renewed vigour. After Helaena, the relative stranger from Braedel was the only person to see him as he felt. As he was.

Buoyed by the praise, Aemond made for one of the Keep’s many libraries. There were plenty to choose from. The large one favoured by his father, full of old tales and dusty tomes. The bright and airy one that his mother and sister frequented in the royal apartments. The myriad of others scattered across different floors and corridors. Today, before heading towards the outskirts of the city where Vhagar rested, Aemond made his solitary way towards his favourite since he was a boy. Where he came to hide from his brother and nephews after a day of merciless teasing.

Tucked between White Sword Tower and the goldcloaks’ barracks, the small study that was Aemond’s preference looked out over Blackwater Bay. It was midday now and Aemond imagined the water lapping at the city’s walls below the window he favoured sitting in.

No-one else came here. Not the white or goldcloaks as they were always too busy. His family stayed in the royal apartments and guests had their own library in the west of the Keep. It would be silent except for the gulls over the bay and the breeze through the window. Trays of confectionary will have been restocked by the maids, the windows opened to air the old books, golden light flowing in from the sun beyond. All Aemond needed to relax. It was also one of the few libraries he had not looked for knowledge of Braedel. Perhaps one of the guards had family from the small island and kept volumes of its history in there as a nostalgic reminder of home. Or maybe a Maester had produced a long-forgotten biography of the kingdom that no-one thought of interest enough to keep in the main library’s stores.

Whatever the reason he had not checked, Aemond all but bounded (as much as princes are allowed to bound) towards the small door at the top of the ill-used spiral staircase. A few goldcloaks bowed to him as he passed and, feeling that normality had returned to the Keep, Aemond threw open the door to his secret hideaway.

A chair screeched across the stone floor and clattered to the ground with a loud thunk.

The curtains were indeed open. The confectionary had been refilled, and Aemond could see that beyond the window seagulls were soaring and the water glistened. But before the window, in what would have been his usual seat, stood Lady Geowyth.

Her eyes were wide with shock but rimmed with red and shining brightly. She’d been crying. She stood frozen for a while, a mixture of horror and shame playing across her pale face.

A flash of recognition lit behind Aemond’s eye. He had seen this expression before. Minus the tears, she had looked just the same when she startled him in the royal library. The repetition of this event made him chuckle, almost imperceptibly. The noise seemed to remind Geowyth of where she was, and she hastily dropped into a low curtsey.

“Your Grace.” Aemond watched as she wiped her face with her sleeve and turned to the window. The chair she was sat in had overturned in her shock, and she bent to pick it up. Aemond’s eye followed the swoop of her frizzy hair as it fell towards the floor. The action exposed the back of her neck, and the midday sun on her pale skin glowed. It was almost Targaryen in its brilliance. He cleared his throat and moved forward awkwardly.

“Let me,” he reached one hand out for the chair and swiftly righted it. He was certain she could have done it herself, and he was still unsure of his feelings towards her. Whether indifference, curiosity or dislike, he had been raised a prince. Decorum, chivalry and honour above all.

Geowyth sniffled a quiet “thank you” and picked up the book upon the windowsill. Aemond read the spine. Philosophies on the Flora and Fauna of the Crownlands.

“This is one of Helaena’s favourites,” His voice was a little flat, a little stunted, but it was a start.

“Yes,” Geowyth sniffed again. “Forgive me,” and she wiped her nose once more. Aemond looked away. How are you meant offer comfort but also give privacy? His mind raced and he tried to think of what to say. The wrong thing might ignite her sarcasm, as anything he uttered seem to do. He might even offend her, as he had done on occasion. And he certainly didn’t want to make her cry more, what on earth would he do then?

As Aemond fretted over his next move, Geowyth watched him. Through her tear-blurred eyes, she watched him awkwardly look around at the books. He had removed his leather gloves, and they creaked as he wrung them behind his back. The eye that so often piercingly surveyed her was almost purple in the sunlight, and softer that she had ever seen it. After their last encounter in the training yard, Geowyth half expected Aemond to want her head. In his stead, she found a somewhat lost and, dare she say it, shy young prince.

“Here,” his voice broke her from her thoughts. Aemond’s pale hand took another book from the shelves and handed it to her cautiously, as though she would bite if he moved too fast. Geowyth looked down at the book’s green cover. Gold leaves were embossed on the fabric and she ran her hand over it.

“Eseld’s Apohtic,” Geowyth said lowly.

“It’s another of Helaena’s favourites.” His tone was blunt, but not so cold as how he usually spoke to her. Geowyth looked at him. He was watching her intently, eye shifting occasionally as though embarrassed.

“Thank you,” though Geowyth’s voice was still small from crying, something of herself began to return. She took the two books in hand, sniffled once more and then stood to her full height. Enough of this wallowing. She looked back to Aemond. “I’ll leave you know, Your Grace. It is clear you were hoping to find this study unoccupied.”

Aemond opened his mouth to speak, faltered, then shut it again. Offering a small smile, Geowyth curtsied and made for the door. As she passed him, Aemond caught the scent of pine and rosemary in her hair and, just as she reached the door, he spoke.

“My lady,” his voice was desperate and he cringed. Geowyth half turned to face him, and he could see just how flushed she had become from crying as the windowlight hit her face.

“Your Grace?” Despite her sadness, and the unhidden resentment the two shared for each other, something about her calm patience as he fumbled with politeness soothed him. Suddenly, he saw a glimmer of what Helaena so loved about her.

“I came here in search of books on Braedel. It is one of the few places I hadn’t looked-”

A smirk quirked the lady’s lips. “You have been looking?”

Damn. “Your brother talked so highly of home, and I cannot deny your language and customs intrigue me,” he flushed. How common of him to admit to something so indecent as curiosity. “I thought, perhaps, well. I would like to learn more.”

Geowyth watched him a moment, and Aemond wracked his brain for what he could have possibly said to offend her.

“All you have to do is ask, Your Grace.”

Aemond’s eye flickered to Geowyth’s. Mirth, or maybe even kindness, was shining in them now. He swallowed. It was the expression she had worn in his dream.

“But if you are so determined to learn from your books,” she pointed to a shelf by the unlit hearth. “May I recommend Grennan’s Compendium of Republic Realms? I believe my uncle wrote the introduction-” Geowyth’s voice tailed away. She had suddenly remembered the missive her uncle wrote the day before.

“The heir apparent you say is a wastrel but bonny fellow, and Geodred tells me that Prince Aemond has been giving him private tutelage in mainland history. List me two more of their virtues with your next letter.”

She looked at the books around her, the one Aemond now reached for and the two in her hand. Helaena’s favourites. “You care for Helaena very much.”

Aemond looked at her curiously. “Yes,” he said, as though it were obvious. “Only a little more than you, I dare say,” he added with sarcasm.

Geowyth laughed that hearty laugh she shared with her brother. Aemond’s breath caught in his throat; he had almost smiled at the sound.

“I doubt even one so plainly open as I could care for someone the way you care for her.”

Aemond clasped his hands behind his back and smirked. “Perhaps it is the one thing we have in common.” He watched as Geowyth relaxed against the door. This isn’t too difficult, he thought. Perhaps he possessed some of his family’s charm after all.

“Helaena and sparring, how contrary we are.” Geowyth too could hardly believe the ease their conversation had found. This gentle teasing and care of his family; maybe she had misjudged him.

“I would hardly call it sparring,” Aemond said, his tone more confident now. “Batting your lashes and holding a dagger to my ribs? That move has been used more often in the street of silk than it has in the training yard.”

A potent silence fell between them.

Aemond knew at once he had said the wrong thing. Geowyth’s eagle eyes hardened and an electricity seemed to bristle around her.

“Well, I maybe be as common as a whore in your eyes, Your Grace,” she spat his title viciously as she whipped her dark hair over her shoulder and opened the door. “But last we met it was you who was flat on their back.” No sooner had Aemond begun to retort had the study door slammed, Geowyth’s angry footsteps echoing down the staircase beyond.

“She had you ratted there, son.”

Aemond ripped of his eyepatch and jammed his hands into his eyes with an angry growl. Throwing Grennan’s Compendium of Republic Realms across the study, Aemond too strode from the study, not caring whether he encountered the lady on the stairs. He’d push her down the rest of them for all he cared.

Hours later, as he and Vhagar flew above the Crownlands, Aemond watched a lone stallion thundering across its grassy plains. Air-borne and earth-bound, the riders rode their mounts ferociously, testing them to their limits. It was as Aemond and Vhagar tumbled from the sky, flying perilously, exhilaratingly, exquisitely close to the ground, did the rider look up at him. With fierce determination, Lady Geowyth kicked her heels at Mearl’s side and tore away from the dragon.

From high above them, sat upon a rocky ridge, Helaena and Dreamfyre watched.

Note: The next chapter will have Sexual TensionTM, I promise!

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[zg0nuwa]

Can i have a little request, where SO GN!reader loves to cook, and every time Leon arrives home, there's a nice and tasty meal. So, in return he tries to cook dinner for them?

I have the thought that he's terrible at cooking, and if he does something it's just... Edible.

Poor leon, juat tries his best to impress their SO :'3

𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐬 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲 ; “ 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞-𝐨𝐮𝐭 ”

tbh it’s a 50/50 for me when it comes to leons cooking skills. at the same time i think he sucks ass but on the other hand ( i still strongly believe he’s part italian ) just him cooking his childhood recipes for you because it’s his love language. the struggle is real.

leon s kennedy x gn!reader

warnings ; leons near death experience in the kitchen, medical inaccuracies

usually it was the other way around. leon was the one that you had to wait for for hours or sometimes even days at a time but not this time around. it so happened that the DSO finally let him have his vacation uninterrupted.

so he decided to repay your kindness. with all this free time he started to get restless and frustrated. he was so used to always being somewhere, doing something and living of off this adrenaline rush. leon thought it would be a nice change of pace to try something in the kitchen but he couldn’t have been more wrong.

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it was nearing 10pm when you finally came back home. for the past week your boss was not going easy on you. in fact it felt as if he was pushing you to your limits.

as you unlocked the front door all you could think about was a nice bath and going to sleep wrapped up in leons arms. you were expecting him to be in the living room watching tv but instead you could smell something burning in your kitchen.

before you could process what was going on you heard a loud thud and a string of curses coming from leon. it ripped you away from your train of thoughts and you quickly walked towards the entrance to your kitchen.

the sight in front of you was amusing. leon holding his hand under a stream of cold water, a pan of what you suppose used to be tomato sauce that was now all over the floor and cabinets.

“ lee, honey, what happened here? ” you asked as you slowly walked up to him trying to maneuver your way without walking into splashes of still hot sauce.

“ i burned myself on the handle of the pan and well, the rest i think you can figure out yourself. ” you couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped your lips at his beat up expression. to think that a top tier government agent had struggled with the task of making dinner was hilarious. of course you would never berate him for that or make him fell bad about it but the situation was just amusing.

“ it’s not funny. ”

“ i’m sorry, i’m sorry… but it is a little bit funny. ” you turned off the water and inspected the burn on his hand. it wasn’t bad but you could already see the bubbles slowly forming and as you slightly pressed around the mark left by the handle he hissed.

“ okay, keep your hand under the cold water. i’ll go grab something to soothe the burn and we’ll clean up the mess. ”

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in the end you ordered some chinese take out from the only place still open at this hour. it wasn’t some fancy dinner but right now you could eat a horse with the hooves so it didn’t matter.

leon unfortunately was still grumpy about the whole ordeal. even more so that the injured his dominant hand and for the life of him couldn’t operate around with the other hand, so you ended up feeding him yourself.

“ come on, don’t be like that. ” you grinned at his dissatisfied face as you held a bite of rice noodles in front of him with your chopsticks.

“ this is fucking embarrassing. ”