#have you ever tried to enter the black branches

[apoemaday]

Have You Ever Tried to Enter the Long Black Branches?

by Mary Oliver

Have you ever tried to enter the long black branches of other lives– tried to imagine what the crisp fringes, full of honey, hanging from the branches of the young locust trees, in early morning, feel like? Do you think this world was only an entertainment for you? Never to enter the sea and notice how the water divides with perfect courtesy, to let you in! Never to lie down on the grass, as though you were the grass! Never to leap to the air as you open your wings over the dark acorn of your heart! No wonder we hear, in your mournful voice, the complaint that something is missing from your life! Who can open the door who does not reach for the latch? Who can travel the miles who does not put one foot in front of the other, all attentive to what presents itself continually? Who will behold the inner chamber who has not observed with admiration, even with rapture, the outer stone? Well, there is time left– fields everywhere invite you into them. And who will care, who will chide you if you wander away from wherever you are, to look for your soul? Quickly, then, get up, put on your coat, leave your desk! To put one’s foot into the door of the grass, which is the mystery, which is death as well as life, and not be afraid! To set one’s foot in the door of death, and be overcome with amazement! To sit down in front of the weeds, and imagine god the ten-fingered, sailing out of his house of straw, nodding this way and that way, to the flowers of the present hour, to the song falling out of the mockingbird’s pink mouth, to the tippets of the honeysuckle, that have opened in the night To sit down, like a weed among weeds, and rustle in the wind! Listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life? While the soul, after all, is only a window, and the opening of the window no more difficult than the wakening from a little sleep. Only last week I went out among the thorns and said to the wild roses: deny me not, but suffer my devotion. Then, all afternoon, I sat among them. Maybe I even heard a curl or two of music, damp and rouge red, hurrying from their stubby buds, from their delicate watery bodies. For how long will you continue to listen to those dark shouters, caution and prudence? Fall in! Fall in! A woman standing in the weeds. A small boat flounders in the deep waves, and what’s coming next is coming with its own heave and grace. Meanwhile, once in a while, I have chanced, among the quick things, upon the immutable. What more could one ask? And I would touch the faces of the daises, and I would bow down to think about it. That was then, which hasn’t ended yet. Now the sun begins to swing down. Under the peach-light, I cross the fields and the dunes, I follow the ocean’s edge. I climb, I backtrack. I float. I ramble my way home.

[angelus-a13]

a bit of advice

take the time, take the time of your life walk through the marsh and hear the sharp cries of the coot, of the goose, of the child knee deep in the rich dirt hold the worm you find on the path set him down with the care of a mother attending the shrill babe breath breath the clean air, every lungful like the first is this life? the whole of it? unfettered and true? is this the joy you can reap from your doorstep, taking each foot further from your despair letting it air, making it the unwelcome guest (leave him no tea in the pot, no bread to sustain his ferocious appetite) show him the door, show him the wild birds the hares in the meadow the love letters hidden in the smiles of your friends my advice? open the window, and let the roses in.

[lazy4honey]

Unseelie Fae

Should be sleeping, looked at fae fucker, remembered an old idea I never got to use, just started writing, tried to do something short, obviously didn’t succeed…

Contains: second person perspective, gender neutral, fae, long, slow, teasing, dub-con, tentacles, fingering, anal, big 🍆, lots of 💦, slight belly bulge, NSFW towards the end

Note: both men and women have a glans and erectile tissue 👍

There are two courts of faeries, opposed to each other like day and night. One is known as the Seelie Court, mischievous but well meaning, while the other is the Unseelie Court, full of cunning pranks and tricks.

But regardless of their differences, they all love to play tricks on humans.

As such, you go to bed one night and fall asleep unusually quickly and dream.

You stand in a blooming meadow. The cerulean sky above you is dotted with white cotton clouds and the sun beams down onto the earth in a blinding manner, a mixture of the flowers’ fragrance and the slightly burnt smell of ozone typical for hot summer days filling your nose as the hot breeze brushes over your skin.

You look around and find a lone tree growing in the meadow. It looks old, knotted branches adorned by emerald leaves reaching towards the sky almost like a withered hand. There is a strange aura to this tree, but you still walk over to stand in its cool shade.

Then something magical happens.

A pale glimmer lights up on one of the lower branches and drops, leaving a glittering string as fine as spider silk hanging straight down. You watch with curiosity and awe as the string lights up and splits open into a gateway.

The next moment, before you can see what lies beyond, a figure steps through the gateway.

As soon as you lay your eyes on them, they have stolen your breath away.

They are tall and thin, clad in flowing black robes that seem to meld into the shadows, as if made from them. Their long, straight black hair blends in with the robe, and it forms a stark contrast with their morbidly pale skin. With elegant brows, eyes resembling black pearls, and light pink lips, there is an unsettling beauty to them that transcends all perceptions of gender you had before.

They look at you and you see what you believe to be a smile flash through their mesmerizing eyes.

Entranced, you watch them lift their arm and reach out to you. Their boney hand is just as pale as their face, and their black fingernails are long and pointed. For some reason, you think it resembles the tree.

With a turn of their wrist, a round, enticingly red apple appears in their hand. Just by looking at its rich color, you can already feel its mouthwatering taste in your mouth.

You don’t hesitate to grab the apple and take a bite out of it. It is crisp and juicy, just like you imagined, and the red of the peel bleeds into the white fruit flesh like blood staining snow.

The beautiful person in black smiles as they watch you eat their apple, and you happily smile back at them.

After eating the apple, they take your hand, their cold touch making you feel a strange anticipation as they lead you through the gateway. Time and space creak as they are twisted, and the next moment you stand on the meadow by night, the sleeping flower buds doused in silvern moonlight as the nearby hill breaks open and reveals the fae folk dancing to their bewitching music in a hall illuminated by firefly-like dots of light.

Enthralled, you step forward. You enter the hill and find yourself in the hall contained within you had just seen, surrounded by countless beings more beautiful than you could have ever imagined.

You wander around the hall, dancing with a man with glittering dragonfly wings fly wings one moment and a woman with colorful butterfly wings the next. Then you are pushed onward and pass by the buffet, grabbing some candy-like nuts and berries that crunch satisfyingly between your teeth before arriving at the band’s little stage. After energetically beating the drum for the goat-horned man playing the pan flute for a few songs, you are tired and let yourself be carried along by the stream of fae, finally coming to a black throne.

Seated on that throne is the beautiful being that gave you their apple, and their eyes seem to twinkle as they look at you and once again reach out their hand.

It is empty, waiting for you to take it.

You do.

They gently pull and you fall onto their lap without any resistance, adoringly gazing up at them as you lean against their chest. Your eyes meet and sparks fly, eliciting excited cheers from the crowd of fae folk.

The beautiful being brushes a hand through your hair, admiring your blushing face. Then they lean down and kiss your forehead, your eyes, your nose, your cheeks and jaw, and finally coming to your lips. They pause and look you deep in the eyes, seeking your consent before ever so gently kissing you.

Their lips are cold, just like their hands, but not unpleasantly so. There is the faint fragrance of apples.

They hold your face and gradually deepen the kiss, making you close your eyes in enjoyment and miss the flash of deep red in their eyes. Your lips opens on their own and allow their tongue to intrude on your mouth. When their cold tongue grazes yours, you flinch back in surprise only to quickly engage with them. The feeling of their slippery tongue against yours is divine.

You clutch at their robes and rub your thighs against each other as heat pools in your abdomen and makes you long for something more.

There seems to be a distant sigh, followed by a rustle, and then darkness envelops you. The boos of the crowd come from far away, but the coolness of that beautiful being is still closely attached to you, their arms wrapping around you to hold your waist.

You open your eyes and only see a vague outline of them, but you don’t mind. Raising your arms to cling to their neck, you engage them in another long, deep kiss, aiming to warm their coldness with your overflowing warmth.

They chuckle and press you tightly against themselves, kiss turning a little shallower as they rub your back, down your spine and to your ass, making you relax in comfort.

Then you feel something on your ankle. It is just as cold as the beautiful being’s hands, yet there is a strange slickness to it. You wiggle your foot. When the sensation doesn’t go away, you try to retreat from the kiss to take a look, but they don’t give you that chance as they deepen the kiss again and sneak a cold hand beneath your shirt to caress your waist.

The strange sensation remains on your ankle, and as you forget about it, it starts moving again. It slides up your calf like a living rope, crawling beneath your pants and wrapping itself around your soft flesh. Then it strokes your knee.

Your legs tighten and you want to kick it away, but then another cold, slick thing wraps around your other foot, tickling your sole. You squirm and whine into the beautiful being’s mouth, hoping they will notice your plight and rescue you. But they just hold your waist more tightly, sliding a hand up to your warm chest as their head moves down to kiss your neck.

Free of any obstruction, you moan. The cold hands and lips on your warm skin make you feel so tingly, their every caress adding to the hotness in your abdomen. You can’t resist rubbing your crotch against their thigh as you get excited.

At this moment, the slick tentacle-like things move again. They wrap around your legs, gently squeezing your thighs, their coldness making you tremble, and unexpectedly cooperate with the beautiful being to lift you up and sit you down on their lap with your legs spread. Then another tentacle attaches itself to the small of your back and trails its thin tip up your spine and down again.

With your hands not restrained, you twist to grab the annoying thing. The beautiful being beneath you suddenly releases a low moan. Unconsciously you tighten your grip, and they hum, the three cold, slick tentacles pulsing faintly.

Finally, you truly realize that the beautiful being is a fae.

A fae with tentacles.

An unknown kind of excitement takes hold of you and makes your heart beat like a drum. You swallow a mouthful of saliva and tug at the tentacle, pulling it before you.

The beautiful fae watches you in the darkness they created. Their hand tightens on your chest as you kiss the tip of the tentacle, their breath heating up when you take it into your hot, wet mouth. You gently suck on the tentacle and feel it pulse as they gasp, then gently bite it before removing it from your mouth and kissing along its length.

Meanwhile, the tentacles wrapped around your legs tighten and loosen together with the fae’s hands on your torso. They nuzzle their face against your neck and the tentacles around your legs start moving again, caressing your inner thighs and crawling forward, one making contact with your crotch. The tentacle presses a little and feels you tense. Then it slowly grinds against you, the cold, slick sensation seeping through your underpants as it fondles your arousal.

The fae feels your strong heartbeat and kisses your neck, their hand massaging your chest and making you accidentally bit the tentacle you are still holding a little harder when they pinch your nipple. They moan and the tentacle by your mouth is replaced with their lips as they plunder your mouth. The tentacle dripping with saliva strokes your shoulder and down into your shirt to your chest, the thin cold tip wrapping around your other nipple to pull and rub.

You pant at the many ministrations, aroused and wanting for more after being teased like this.

As if sensing your impatience, the tentacles on your legs start moving again. They both wriggle into your underpants, one reaching your front while the other curls around your ass cheek. The one in the front snakes along your crotch and to your eagerly throbbing genitalia. It carefully feels around and slowly pulls back your skin to reveal your glans and wet slit, rubbing against it at an agonizingly slow pace.

As you are kissed and caressed by hands and tentacles, you rock your hips against the fae for a little more friction. You want more, you hope for a deeper connection, one that steals your breath and echoes endlessly through your body.

The tentacle on your ass moves. It dives into the gap between your buttocks and kisses your small hole, making your butt clench around it. Its thin tip circles around the delicate, puckered skin and prods your hole again, even sinking a little inside.

You whine against the fae’s lips and they stroke your cheek. Then they reach down to your crotch, feeling the wetness at their fingertips, and rub your glans and slit along with the tentacle. Their hand is so cold and soft it makes you feel your pulse in your gut.

After rubbing for a while, sometimes stronger, sometimes lighter, coating their fingertips in your slowly dripping sticky liquids, they reach further and join the tentacle at your backside in prodding at your asshole. Thanks to your wetness, they are able to slide in a little more than the tentacle. Their sharp fingernail hurts a little but their other touches feel so good, and before you know it they are already one digit deep inside you.

They bite your lip as they patiently sink their entire index finger into your hole, then kiss down your jaw, neck, and chest. At your heart side, they bite your nipple, cold breath instantly making it harden, then lick. You clench around their fingertips with a moan and some more liquid drips from your slit onto the rubbing tentacle, making its movements smoother.

The fae gives your nipple a suck and pull their finger put, once again fingering your slit. You feel a little relieved yet empty, but before the feeling can settle in they return their fingers to your tight hole, carefully pressing two fingers inside your tight anus.

You moan in pain and sink your hands into the fae’s hair, gripping it tightly.

They give your chest a little bite and another tentacle joins the three. It is a little slicker than the others and the tip drips with a cold slime that makes you shiver. This tentacle sprinkles its slime across your body, mixing it with some of your own sticky liquids at your slit, and then joins the fae’s fingers as they gently press inside you. You can feel this tentacle squirm in your rectum and it seems to be pumping its cold slime into you. It coats the fae’s fingers, resulting in a quiet squelching sound as they curl against your hot flesh.

The slime drips down their hand and your ass as they continue moving, wriggling every now and then and pumping in and out in alternating tempo.

Then they add a third finger.

You feel a little full.

The dripping tentacle continuously pumps its slime into you and the squelching sound becomes louder as the sticky substance accumulates in your rear. Gradually, the fingers and slime heat up and your asshole feels a little numb and pleasantly tingly. You take the three fingers very well, earning yourself more kisses and caresses from the fae.

That beautiful fae, fucking you with their long cold fingers and slimy tentacles, could there be anything more arousing?

When they suddenly pull out their fingers, you whine and tug at their hair.

The slime dripping out of your widened hole, pulled even wider open by the fae’s tight grip on your ass cheeks, flows down the tentacle still peaking inside you, slicking it up. Then it begins to move.

The tentacle is about as thick as the fae’s three fingers, but it reaches deeper inside you and lacks the dangerous fingernails. When it enters you a little deeper, you feel it squirm again as it pumps you with its sticky slime once more, making your hole flutter, and then it retreats.

Afterwards, the other tentacles that had been toying with your body also retreat.

You unhappily wriggle your hips and pout. That couldn’t have been it, right? They couldn’t just leave you hanging like that, right?

Of course they don’t.

Your shirt is gently peeled off by their fingers, one hand cold and one warm and slick with the tentacle’s slime and your liquids. Then they slip their hands into your waistband, tapping your hips and looking at you.

Although they don’t say anything, you understand the look in their pitch black eyes. You hold onto their shoulders and raise yourself up, letting them take off your pants and underwear.

They admiringly stroke your bare skin. Your legs and your arms, your chest aching from the fondling, your waist, hips and ass, and finally your crotch — their cool touch is everywhere.

Then they press you against their chest and squeeze your ass.

The next moment, a thick, slimy tentacle with a phallic tip pressed against your asshole. Your muscles tensed and the hole tightened against the unexpectedly cold thing. It poked a little, then slid forward to rub against your leaking slit, gently pressing and pulling for a while and making you moan before returning to your backside.

The fae captured your lips and in that second of distraction, the tentacle pushed inside your anus and stretched the folds out of the puckered hole with its girth. With the hot slime and the phallic tentacle covered in cold slick completely filling your rectum, you felt almost unbearably full, but it didn’t hurt. When the tentacle started moving and the friction started heating the slippery liquids, the wonderful tingling sensation came back full force and traveled from your rear to your front, making you drip onto the fae’s robes.

They let their hand slide back down to your dripping holes and lightly pressed and rubbed your glans before fingering your slit that had become sensitive from all that stimulation as the tentacle in your ass sped up its movements, thrusting deeper inside you and stretching you further than before each time.

You moaned into their mouth. In your quest for more pleasure you rocked your hips with their thrusts, pushing your soaking slit into their cool hand one moment to seek relieve for your swollen erectile tissue and shoving your ass backwards onto their phallic tentacle to feel it pound deep into you the next.

Your enthusiasm please the fae. It pleased them even more when your ass clenched around their phallic tentacle, and you could the thing pulse in your ass and speed up. You relaxed, and then abruptly clenched again around them, eliciting a melodious moan from them as the tentacle pulsed.

Constantly stimulating each other in this was, the two of you sped up. As your climax neared, your movements grew a little sloppy. Chasing that obscure feeling, you shoved the tentacle even deeper into your soft insides, and then the fae came with an ecstatic moan.

Their phallic tentacle didn’t stop pulsing as a searing hot liquid was shot into your guts. The feel of your gut being filled and even bulging from their cum made you moan loudly, and so you, too, reached your climax. Your ass clenched more tightly than ever around the tentacle and squeezed it as you came and trembled, making you clearly feel every pulse and every new shot of cum.

After an unknown amount of time, you came back to your senses. Leaning against the fae and hugging their thin waist, your ass still stuffed with their phallic tentacle and dripping with cum and slime, you felt your body still echoing with the euphoric release you just experienced.

The fae hugged you and pressed a tender kiss to your sweaty temple.

Surrounded by the faint scent of apples, you relaxed against them and sleepily closed your eyes. As you drifted off, you heard them, the vibrations of their cold, resonant voice clearly transmitted into your chest as they whispered.

“Finally.”

[queer-n-here]

I JUST SAW YOUR POST ABOUT WANTING TO BRANCH OUT TO DIFFERENT FANDOMS

AND THAT YOURE OK WITH MHA

BAKUGOU X READER PLS PLS PLS

Like brat Bakugou x brat tamer reader, breaking down his rudeness until he’s begging for it. PLS I wanna fuck him till he cries pls

(Sorry for the hornyposting oops k bye)

Yes yes yes yes yes yes yesssssss!!!

Fuck yeahhh brat taming Bakugo let's go!

(This was my initial reaction to recieving this req, no shit)

Contents: Lil headcannons bout taming Baku! Hope you like em!

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, edging, mentions of overstim near the end.

Bakugo, his ENTIRE character, screams 'I'm a little brat' like nothing else.

So I can see him being rude to you, too, mocking and joking around about some of your habits to piss you off. What that dumbass doesn't think of, however, is the consequences of his actions.

You grab Bakugo by the wrists and pin him to the bed you two were sitting at, press your knee between his legs and push them apart, holding him down despite his struggles.

"Look at you, all riled up just from some jeering." He says, smirking and completely oblivious of his fate. "What is it, haven't taken you- mmf!"

You cut him off with a kiss first, letting go of his wrists momentarily to rip his clothes off of his body.

Bakugo wouldn't admit it if you put a gun to his temple, but he loves being manhandled like this. You're stronger than him, which is something he tried to be in denial about earlier, but not anymore.

So when you enter his asshole without preparing him, he gives up the struggle and scrambles to find purchase to ground himself.

You fuck into him, making his hips buck up into yours. You hold him down, and began thrusting into him at a pace so slow it has him losing his mind.

You're hitting all the right spots, and the stimulation is making his back arch and eyes water, but its not nearly enough. Bakugo tries clenching around you, trying to rile you up to get you to fuck him senseless the way you sometimes do, but you just hiss and tighten your hold on him, pace slower than ever.

And it doesn't take long for him to lose his composure and fall apart in your hands. He's reduced into a needy mess soon, chest jolting as his breath hitches, hands grabbing at your shoulders so tight you feel his blunt nails dig into your skin.

"More, ah! [Name] faster!" Is the only string of comprehensible words that he can utter soon.

"Oh?" You grit your teeth against the sparks of pleasure each thrust is sending up your cock. "You wanna get fucked, hmm? Then why weren't you acting like it just now, Baku?"

And he just whines, feeling your tip barely brush against sweet spot this time, the denial of that pleasure he knew you could give him so intense it made him see black spots in his vision that he had to blink to clear.

So he begs, he begs like the whore he is in bed, like the cock-addicted little slut you've made him, who wants nothing more than to have you rearrange his insides to the shape of your cock.

You take pity on him, like c'mon, you can't keep edging him forever when your own cock is pulsing with want, right?

So you bend him in half and plunge into him, your pace like that of a wild fucking animal as you thrust into him, finally giving Bakugo what he wants.

Bakugo lays there, his brain slowly turning into mush as you finally, finally fuck him, his moans loud even over the sound of skin slapping against skin with each of your thrusts, sweat soaked hair sticking to his forehead.

I mean, the night is still young tho. Maybe you can overstimulate him next, rip orgasm after orgasm from him till his entire frame his shaking, till his dick is shooting blanks, till he passes out on the bed under you from exhaustion, leaving you to clean up the mess on the bed. Who knows? 😉

[mehiwilldoitlater]

You made a mistake giving me free range in this house,good luck getting rid of me!

Also may I request more of the destined one from black myth wukong please? Pretty please,wonderful and merciful author god?

The beginning

"We're not in Kansas anymore."

At first, your first idea was that you weren't actually being hit by that car. Maybe you were able to jump away, ending in some brushes near the street. That seemed the most reasonable reason! And hitting a tree would have been the reason why your head hurt so much! Everything seemed pretty normal! 

Except you weren't near the road that you were usually crossing to get to work. To be fair, you seemed to be far away from every form of human civilization from the look of it.

Your surroundings seemed to be a lavish forest, with trees and plants that covered every spot of the area. From down, notable under the canopy of the trees, the peaks of mountains were so high that just the view gave you a small dizziness.

Everything could have been almost normal: a forest, some mountains, the singing of the birds, and the insects in the distance. A completely normal green environment! 

Except for two Very important details: First, you were sure that your work was in the city, not in the mountains; two, those plants weren't nothing that you ever saw in your life.

You tried to control yourself; the last thing that you needed was a pabick attack in the middle of nowhere. There's had to be a reasonable answer to everything!

Your headache didn't help at all; you felt like something was clearly wrong and your body was screaming, and despite that, it seemed like you had no injuries, which was strange since a car had crashed into you.

You tried to find any answer to your question when you felt... something.

Suddenly, it seemed like a breeze of wind had gently moved to you, a silent and calm gale that entered your lungs, helping you to recover some stability.

 It was like a stream, the water touching you and pulling you.

You didn't hear anything calling you; you felt it. In your head, in your soul.

That strange moment suddenly ended, leaving you puzzled and lightheaded. It was just then that you noticed a path, a small track between the trees and the plants, made by the continued footsteps of who was living there.

You looked around. The light of the day was silently making space in the darkness of the night, and by the look of the place, hungry wolves were the last of the troubles.

With an inch of courage and with the encouragement of that feeling in your chest, you began tracking the path in front of you, leaving the security of the clearing at your back. 

Despite being in an unknown place with no idea of how you even got there, you had to admit that, wherever you were, it was beautiful.

Around you, plants had grown to the point to reach the branches of the trees, with cascades of flowers that gave colors to the monochrome forest. When the wind blew across the trees, birds fell to the ground, creating a colorful snowflake kind of effect. In the highest branches, fruits as big as a head are grown, relishing amazing perfumes, fresh, and sweets. Not far from there, you were sure to hear the sound of a waterfall and a river.

If it was really a dream, then it was very beautiful. You wondered where you had seen such a place to dream it like this...

You sensed some movements up above your head, and after realizing what it was, you thought that being confused was normal, but remembering that everything was just an illusion put you at ease.

"Monkeys. Of course, why not? Monkeys are fine!"

So you ignored the full fact of the presence of those animals, alongside their curious looks at you. 

While the dizziness seemed to be finally at bay, the strange sensation that had catched you at the beginning seemed to get stronger instead. It was strange; despite being unsure of where you were, you felt like something was dragging you in a certain direction. Maybe it was your head, maybe the fact that the only thing more similar to a road was that small trail, covered in perals and leaves, with rocks around here and there, but it was there and you wanted just to avoid it.But it's hard to avoid something that's it getting stronger.

You don't know how long you took, but you ended up in a mother clearing; the only difference was a small structure.

Made of simple rock, they were shaped into rectangular structures to create a small, strange house. The pot in front of it with some incense sticks gave out the origins and use of the small structure: It was a shrine, but they were usually found in Asia. Why was it there?

Everything was just confusing and strange. Now, come to think of it, the plants that surrounded you... Did you have the idea you had seen them before because those were in some art book or in a few about China?That was oddly specific as a dream.

Suddenly, the sensation came again, this time followed by sounds—real sounds. Someone was moving between the bushes; their footsteps were making sound between the dirt and the rocks.

Even though it was a dream, you still wanted to ask for some direction. And if it was, there was supposed to be nothing to fear, right?

Something was coming towards you, still unclear to your eyes, but your heart was racing. That feeling was almost reacting to whomever was approaching you, giving you goosebumps, your stomach twisting, and your breath stuck in your throat.

It was coming near, approaching the light. You found some voice in you.

"I'm Sorry! Please, I need help. I think I had an accident! Please, I Need AH!"

You lost your voice again, the figure finally emerging from the shadows of the trees, and... No, no, maybe it was your eyes; maybe it was some kind of hillness, and your face and reaction were one pretty rude way to see something like that. He was covered in furr... No hair!

Yes! You saw on TV something like that!

The strange was silent, observing you. He was less curious about your looks, much more about your attire.

Yes, it was that... but his... feet? He was moving bearfoot, strange but not that strange, but...those look like hands! What kind of deformity was that?!

He came closer; he seemed nervous. One hand on his chest, like to monitor his own heartbeat, just like his own was acting strange like yours.

Ok, he was... he was a poor, deformed man! Yes, you were such a terrible person, acting all strong about acceptance and then getting a heart attack for... was that a tail?!

He started to circle you; you couldn't take away your eyes from him, like vice versa. 

He was... a monkey. A monkey dressed in some human clothes, holding a staff—less a normal thing that a monkey would do, and he was... studying you? 

You tried to follow him, moving at his own pace to avoid giving him your back. He was... Just curious, interested in this mortal.And little did you know that he had that feeling too.

"I...i-i...i'm Sorry, I Just-"

You fail to notice the movements of others, and you fail to hear the small noises too. When you felt something tugging at your jacket—a small monkey, tall as a three-year-old—you realized that you both were surrounded.

"You talk strange, miss! Hehe, you look funny!"

Surely, collapsing for the stress is not normal in the dreams.

///

Waking up was harder than you thought. Not only had your headache for the worst, but now you were again in some new place.

By adjusting your eyes, you found out that you were in what seemed the insider of and followed the tree. The bed, what you assumed was a bed, was a mass of grass and leaves put together and then sealed in some fabric—something maybe found somewhere, cleaned, and adjusted to the best that it could.

Around you, several small eyes were curiously witnessing your wake from your fainting of before, whispering things and chucklings.

"Look! She waking up!"

 "She's not dead at all!"

"Older Brother! Older Brother! The funny miss is alive!"

Around you, several monkeys were jumping and moving around, avoiding the bed and staying a good distance from your still-recovering frame. Talking monkeys, of course, talking monkeys are pretty normal after a good concussion.

By sitting up, you tried to understand the meaning of everything that was happening, avoiding the possibility that this wasn't a dream after all.The small creatures, some weren't that small at all but as tall as some young men, were now taking advantage of your wakening to question you about... everything. You were quite new here...

A pair of feet marched, moving vigorously towards you. Everyone made some space for the monkey that, you realized, was the one that you met before. He kneeled, looking at you in your eyes, which was easy; you were in such a shock that you couldn't even avoid him.

"Forgive my younger siblings; they can be handfull... Are you all right?"

You didn't say anything. Just moved your head in some assent, despite being sure that you weren't okay.

"You have everyone scared! I was forced to bring you here on my back."

He kept on talking. He seemed quite a kind... simile. And even so, you kept on looking at him, like when you were looking at some videos of people eating so much food that you wondered if it's fake or not. You simply couldn't avoid it, and you wondered when you would finally wake up in front of that strange dream.

He stopped only when, from the doorframe, a hole covered in some more sheets, a Curves figure, wearing white, entered the scene.

His fur, once maybe in snow white, was now of a silver tone; his limbs seemed ready to collapse on their own, and his face was covered in wrinkles. He was old, very old; his robes and pearl necklace made him look like some kind of monk or something. When he moved, the other youngest ones lowered their heads, showing respect given only to the elders.

"The youngers told me about a human on our mountain...yet, I imagined some lost merchant or a pilgrim...not a fine-yoing lady, of course! I would say, What a lucky day for us."

He chuckled, his voice calming, despite the old age. 

"But...something tells me that...your not from these parts...no?"

The younger monkey, the one in front of you, felt that the elders know more than the others now, especially under that facade of ignorance.

"I...i...ugh, this must be a dream. You are...monkeys! Talking monkeys!"

You suddenly stand up from the bed, almost losing your balance; finito wasn't for the monkey, giving you his hand for balance. The elders kept similing, not so surprised by your outburst.

"If It Is a Dream, then...why are you feeling pain in your legs? I did not hear of people collapsing in their own dreams!"

He kept chuckling, ignoring your confused stare. It was like he knew everything; he just wanted you to get the answer on your own. You, on your side, were trying to avoid that answer, even though it was now becoming everything far too clear for you to hold it together.

"... it's not real."

"Oh, I'm real as much as you are!"

"The car hit me! I'm in a coma!"

"I heard people like you saying things like this. They turned to ending their own life, and we were left with a new thomb."

"......"

You couldn't ignore it any longer. You could even feel the furr of the strong monkey arm under your skin, the feeling of the dirt where you collapsed, and the smell of the place.You were... somewhere.

"...w-where am I?! How did I end up here?!"

"You," he continued, "are now at our home, Mount Huaguo, away from the chaos of the Yaoguais and the men. How did you come?..."

He interrupted himself, looking back at the two of you. He gestured to follow him, outsider of the small nest in the tree.

The fresh air of the night entered your nose, mixed with the smell of the trees and fruits. The sun was disappearing into the horizon, leaving space for the moon and the stars, already blinking in the pale pink-colored sky. Around you, several other trees were slowly glowing, showing several houses of more monkeys, some curious about the humans in their mountain, others too busy with their own tasks to care.

"Where are my manners... I'm the elder one. Us monkeys never needed a name, and never someone gave us one. This young one here," he pointed to the other monkey, who still kept following you, "is one of my warriors. And you... what's your name, dear?"

"...i-i'm y/n..."

"Um...well dear, as much as I can say about your arrival... I say that I have an inch about it."

You sighed. He talk in riddles; why has it got to be riddles?!

His small eyes darted from you to the young male.

"Tell me, how did you find each other? It's not every time that some human can get here, and it's not from every day that one disciple capable as you leaves his duty in such a hurry."

The two of you looked at each other, maybe confused, maybe curious, but it was like he knew something more about you and the male.

"I don't...listen, I just woke up here and...this...I felt something...like, I don't know... Just to walk? Tò...tò be somewhere?"

The looks on the male face changed immediately; your words struck something in him, which pleased the eldest.

"Like a call?!"

"...i...i Guess? Maybe?"

"I felt it too!" He was shocked, just as you were listening to him. "I don't know what to take to me, but I felt this urge for something! I followed it, and I found you!" 

"you...too?"

You looked at each other again, but this time the elders small laugh caught both of your attention.

"Oh...oh, my dear One... it's not by accident that fate brought you here..."He took a big sigh, his hands behind his back, looking at the two of you. "Have you ever heard the tale of the great sage equal to heaven?"

"...i....yes?" As much as a book that you read during your years in high school could mean something. You didn't have so many memories of what you studied during your teens years, but you remembered those books for some reason, and you remembered that you had enjoyed it a lot too but never went forward to love it.

"What happened at the end of the story? After Sun Wukong becoming Buddha?"

"Well...nothing; he became Buddha and just ended!"

"...." He shacked his head and moved his hands like to make your words fly away. "No, no, no. He became Buddha, yes, but he wished nothing more than a peaceful life here, with his kind... and the Celestial realm could not stand that."

Everyone listened to this story in solemn silence. It was like they all knew about it, and even though they heard of it several times, they still kept respecting it. You know that Sun Wukong, the Gret sage, was their king, and still now they kept on respecting him.

"And so, they once again had to Clash their weapon...the sage lost against the bounds of the celestial realm, ending his story."

To your ears, this story seemed absurd. That would have changed everything—the meaning of the journey, the change of the heart of Sun Wukong... It even showed the dark side of this place, this court where the gods lived... He fought for his freedom; they denied it and killed him for that?!

The elders turned around, motioning for the two of you to get closer.

"But his spirit endured! And so, in this land, only the relics can bring him back! To rise again and walk on this land! One, between us, is the destiny one to accomplish this mission!"

He then reached for the male shoulder, grasping it with his long, slender finger.

"My boy... it's your time to travel through the land to accomplish what others had tried before you."

While the male registered this information, which you didn't understand like half-bif whatever was happening, the elders now looked at you with an inch of kindness.

"And you... who had traveled to another realm..."

Hold on, what's going on?!

"You that are outsiders from schemes and rules of the celestial realm..."

Oh SHIT, oh fuck, oh fuck what?!

"You shall be at his side in the quest...at his Biàn huà."

Your eyes locked to his face on the hand, now resting on your shoulder. Suddenly, your first love was to take a big step behind, away from the elders and the male, holding your hands on your chest.

".....ME WHAT?!"

He paused, waiting for you to calm down enough.

"Since the beginning, a chosen one, unbound to this world, has been chosen to follow the Destined one, to be at their side, and to witness the comeback of the Great Sage. Someone that exists yet is not here...someone like..."  

You rose your hands, creating a wall between you and whatever strange things this senile simian was trying to tell you.

"NO! NAH AH! No way! I'm not any kind of Chosen or any Bia thing that you said!! I mean, I'm just a random girl walking around a mountain! How could you expect me to believe that I have to do something like... whatever this thing is?"

He took another step closer, motioning on his chest.

"Because you were called... by him." His hand moved to the male. "And so himself by you. The bond between the destined one and the chosen one is not detacted by any rule, magic, or sort of."

"Please," you pleaded, "this you can't ask me to bring back to life and old monkey! I don't even know what to do!"

"Well." He continued to circle you, moving his tails here and there, a little amused by the scene. "Not like someone knew the duty of the Bián huá! It's duty is to follow, yes, but to its purpose... well, you must take this journey to know it."

"But I want to go home! You can't force me!"

He hummed again, a little more confused this time. "I do not know how to take your back to your own realm. What I know is that the key lies on this journey. Maybe the way is at the end. But only going forward, you can really know."

You wanted to say something—that it was a mistake, that it was just a coincidence, that it was nothing such as that—but the monkeys voices were all united. One happy chorus of laughs, congratulations, and encouragement about the Destined One and his Biàn huà.

//////

Sitting on the robot of a tree, the one far away from those noisy celebrations, you kept on telling yourself that what was happening was a huge mistake.

Why that old monkey didn't want to listen to you!? Why forcing you to go through this?! It's not your mission; it's not your king; it's just an old story with a very sad ending! You're not the chosen one! Why kept one pushing it?!

You even kept on talking again with the elders, but he kept disseminating you, and he even told you basically that you were stuck there until the Wukong returned! They basically told you to screw it up and do what they wanted!

"Sulking won't lead you anywhere."

The voice of the male was followed by a pinkie object beating your head.

"I'm not hungry."

"Yes, of course. Came on. Just a few bites."

You have up and taken the peach from his hand, while he took that as and invitati on tò sit near you, a few feet away but enough.

"...I'm Sorry. It must be absurd for you."

"It Is. They want to force us to go and play Frankenstein."

He hummed, not knowing what you were talking about, biting a piece of his own fruit."Yeah, I get that... it's kind of my fault; I took you here in the village."

You sighed. Despite it all, this one seems nice. At least he had asked you how you felt about it. He wasn't like the others; he seemed serious, yes, but he was calm and educated enough to not push you... It was easy to talk to him.

And there was this still lungering feeling in your chest. You started to ask yourself if that thing about the bond was true, but you immediately dismissed it.

"I'll take you home."

"Come again?"

"It's not all right; you deserve to be chosen. That's what the Great Sage would have preferred. If I am the Destined One, then I must uphold his own view!"

"Wich is... great, really?"

You crossed your arm in your chest, "but the old one said clearly that he doesn't know how to bring me back home. How could you say that so easily?"

"He said that; he didn't say that there was none of them! I'm sure someone must know the way! A celestial being? Or maybe "he rose from his seat. "The Great Sage knows that! How to send you back home! If we find him, I'll complete my mission, and you come back home!

"He laughed, quite happy with his own ideas that... made sense? He was right; he didn't know! And, more importantly, by asking for help, you could have more chances!

"It does make sense..."

He smiled, the kneeled in Front of you, this time with a kind smile. He took your hands in his own. They were rough, but warm and just. Holding that staff on back every day... Must have been hard.

"I vow to you, Y/n, to help you in your quest, vile aiding me in mine. I'll promise to protect you, being your companion and ensuring your safety. I'll take you home, I promise."   

@sleepingdramaqueen

@sun-jglim

@crimsonflameproxy

@everlastingmoonlightsworld

@biankanoir

@cromboloni

@miraclecherryblossomsblog

@masksandfeathers

@certifiedsimpinggalore

@cinnamonroll-anon

@justrandomlypassing

@cute-angi

@dressycobra7

[angelsworks]

His Frail

Yandere!Victor Creed x Reader

Chapter Two

Series Masterlist -> Here

Summary: Victor brings his frail home.

Warnings: Yandere/dark themes, etc

After he’s taken care of the men and pushed their van off a cliff for good measure, he returned home. Of course he wanted to chase you. Watch you run through the wood in fear. Follow your scent through the vast expanse of trees and snow. But he resisted.

Why?

The more you ran, the weaker you became. Why chase you down when you would run right to him. With you weak and tired you’d become pliant. It made it easier to gain your trust if he was the one to help you.

So instead he showered. Changed his clothes to fresh ones, clean of blood. He made sure his home was clean, everything was in its place and he had the right medical supplies to tend to your eventual wounds.

When the sun started to set, he started his hunt. Using his enhanced senses to pick your scent out from other wildlife in the wilderness.

When he started it wasn’t hard. He found it easy actually. Your scent appealed to him greatly. Much more than anyone else had. Ever. His life had been long so he knew he couldn’t let you go. Not before he’d been able to see you for himself.

Part of him hoped he’s find something in you. Something he’d been searching for, for all of his life. His frail. The feral mutants version of a mate. His submissive counterpart, his other half, his soulmate.

It felt like you’d been travelling for days. Your run had slowed to a walk, when your body started to give out. Your steps became heavy, legs weakening, shoulders slumping. You body pleaded for rest, while your mind pleaded for salvation.

You’d continued further up the hill and into the wilderness. The snowy mountain seemed to never end. You used the occasional spruce trunk to pull yourself up. The ground beneath you had long since frozen your bare feet. Your chest burned with every breath you took. Your hair stuck to your forehead from the sweat that had long since formed there.

The climb up the mountain stopped. However it brought you no relief. You saw more trees growing sporadically around you. More snow that was sure to freeze your feet. More mountains in the distance. You could have cried. If not for the shout you heard in the distance.

“Hey!” The voice was deep - a man’s. With a tired mind you made the connection that this man was surely one of John’s.

You let out some sort of plea as you moved in the opposite direction. You summoned the little energy your body had left and took off into a sprint. Ducking and diving between trees and branches as you entered fight or flight mode. It was clear you’d gone into flight mode.

Victor chased you at a distance. Keeping himself hidden in the trees as he jumped in a feline like manner from branch to branch almost silently. His eyes assessed your form, tired and ready to collapse. He was sure you’d fall down soon. Your body giving up from the stress of the chase. Just incase he’d packed plan B in a black case in his coat pocket.

You found yourself in the middle of a clearing. A small, tight clearing. Bordered by trees and a few shrubs. Your vision swam with black dots and your fingers tingled as they tries to push out the cold.

Finally after hours on the run. You collapsed. Falling to your knees and then to the floor. Eyes closing. Narrowly missing Victor as he strode over to you.

For a moment he watched you on the floor. Admiring your beauty, your body and your scent. It was perfect. He’d never smelt something so good before, without wanting to eat it.

He picked your up like you weighed nothing. Cradling you in his arms as he walked back to his cabin. He wrapped his coat around you, in an effort to keep you warm.

He’d build his cabin many years ago. Occasionally updating features of it to be more modern and move with the times. It was an isolated place. Surrounded by trees and snow and mountains. It was located in such a place that made it extremely difficult to attack or ambush.

It became a haven when he’d returned from his missions. A place without the smells and sounds of a town or city. The nearest town being hours away. Down roads that required insider knowledge to find and use.

When inside he placed you on one of his couches in the main room. He left you for a moment to light a fire and retrieve a warm cloth from the bathroom.

You were still passed out when came back. He placed the cloth on your forehead and held it there as he knelt beside you.

Your breathing was shallow, coming out in slow puffs past your lips. Victor could hear the faint beat of your heart. The exertion of the day had taken its toll and he became worried this would have long term effects. Looking down at your toes he could we that they were very red and when he reached down to touch, the skin was ice cold.

Victor tutted to himself. He moved away from your sleeping figure and lit a fire. Hoping the heat from it would help you to recover from the temperatures outside.

He pulled a blanket from the back of the sofa, wrapping it over your body.

“It’s okay Frail, I’ve got you now”.

[cooliestghouliest]

PUTTY, chapter one

(chapter one), (chapter two), (chapter three)

PAIRING: virgin!Eddie/former cheerleader!Reader

SUMMARY: Eddie has a little brother. Eddie’s little brother has a babysitter.

SERIES TAGS and C/W’s: mutual pining, experienced!Reader, inexperienced!Eddie but he’s eager to learn, mostly sub!Eddie, insecurities and self doubt, narcissistic and/or absent parents, jealousy, mean basketball players, hurt/comfort, they smoke weed, eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), uniform kink, dirty talk, foot jobs, hand jobs, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), public sex, sex toys, unprotected PiV. more to be added as this progresses!!!

WORD COUNT: 3.7k+

A/N: hi, my friends!!! this is a rewrite/repost and has been edited for a (hopefully) smoother, more enjoyable read. fun fact that this was one of the first Stranger Things fanfics i ever wrote. it was originally titled She Was Straight From Hell, But You Could Never Tell, and featured Eddie alongside an OC. i’ve changed it to be reader-insert, because that seems to be more in my writing wheelhouse nowadays. this fic will be multiple parts — it begins with backstory, but will eventually branch off into a universe of little smutty ficlets where Reader will corrupt virgin!Eddie as much as humanely possible.

—

Eddie hadn't known about the existence of his little brother until two months ago, when Al Munson showed up in the middle of the night with a small child in tow. Eddie didn't even know his dad was out of prison again, and yet here he was, in the flesh, a little boy with a mop of black curls resembling Eddie's own cradled in his leather jacket-clad arms.

Al was lucky Wayne was working or else this family reunion would have gone south fast.

While Wayne wasn't Al's biggest fan, Al was Eddie's dad, and Eddie would always hold onto as many moments with his father as he could get, no matter how sparse, and no matter how much of a self-serving piece of shit asshole Al Munson truly was.

But Eddie didn’t see it like that. Eddie saw it like this: His dad lived a hard life. His dad struggled with addictions. His dad lost a wife, just as Eddie had lost a mother. His dad tried his best with what he had.

Deep down, Eddie knew these were all just sorry excuses, but he kept that truth tucked away, not wanting to deal with the reality that Al truly only cared about himself.

He already had one dead parent. If he cut his dad out of his life, he’d basically have two.

"When'd you get out?" Eddie asked, stepping aside so Al could enter. His eyes followed the child, brows furrowed. The trailer was always Al's first stop on his freedom tour and the older man had always brought some sort of baggage along with him -- never a little kid, though. What the hell kind of trouble had his dad gotten into this time?

"Few days ago," Al replied, heading for the living room. He placed the sleeping child down on the worn sofa, then straightened and faced Eddie. "Listen, son, you gotta do me a favor. I'm not out long this time. I might've robbed an ATM or two last night. I'm kinda on the lam."

Al didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish at his wrongdoing.

Eddie was used to this. Even when Al was a free man, he was never a free man for long. He didn't think his dad knew how to coexist among non-inmate citizens. Eddie didn't think his dad even wanted to. Prison was a creature comfort for the elder Munson. Eddie wasn't necessarily mad at that fact. He was happy when Al was locked up, because then at least he knew where his dad was. Otherwise, Eddie worried his father would eventually get himself into a situation he wouldn't be able to get out of, and Eddie would really never see him again.

Eddie was also used to Al showing up after months and months, sometimes even years and years, such as now, always asking for favors.

"Who is that?" Eddie asked, pointing towards the couch, not being able to ignore the other human in the room any longer.

"Yeah, that's kinda what I need your help with.” Al rubbed at the back of his neck. "Well, no way to do this other than to just say it. That there's your little brother, Eddie. His name's Oliver. And I need you and Wayne to look after him while I'm gone."

"My... what..." Eddie stammered, face scrunching up. He expected Al to burst out laughing and admit he was just fucking around, and that this tiny sleeping stranger was actually just the kid of a fellow convict buddy. Maybe it was said convict buddy’s turn to rob ATMs tonight, leaving Al the babysitter. Irresponsible. Unlikely. And, turns out, untrue.

With Al's silence, Eddie knew his dad’s admission wasn't a joke.

Eddie was beyond confused now.

"Dad, how... you've been in prison for six years!"

"Conjugal visits," Al answered with a bit of a smug shrug.

Eddie shook his head in disbelief. "What the fuck? Wayne can't afford another kid that's not even his... and I'm in school still, I can't watch him... this isn't... I don't know how..."

But Al was already making his way to the door.

"I know you'll figure it out. I can always count on you, my boy," Al prided, tone cheery as if the favor he'd just asked of Eddie was to give him a quick ride somewhere or find an old family recipe.

Al wasn't acting like he was ditching another Munson offspring off on his older brother. He was treating this like an issue of minor importance, just a little speed bump on an otherwise flat road.

Al Munson was not an upstanding person. Never had been, never would be. Because of this, Eddie shouldn't have been surprised or appalled, but here he was, standing with his mouth agape. Surprised. Appalled.

His dad was out the door with a lighthearted, "See ya 'round, son," and Eddie was left speechless in the middle of the living room.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Wayne got over the new addition to the Munson household fairly quickly.

While he'd been livid at first, calling up all of Al's old friends he'd still had the numbers of to try and find out where his dumb shit of a younger brother was, Wayne eventually became resigned to the idea that he now had another little boy to rear and mold.

What else could he do?

Wayne took care of his kin, especially if they were innocent bystanders and had no say in being born in the first place. He'd raised Eddie, and although he knew the boy had his struggles, he didn't think he'd done too bad of a job.

Eddie never went hungry, always had clothes to wear, a bed to sleep in, and Wayne was the one who haggled Eddie's van down to a reasonable price so the boy could pay for it with his lunch box salary.

Wayne knew about the weed and the pills, but so long as Eddie stayed smart about where he was selling and who he was selling to, he didn't much mind Eddie's unconventional line of work. It helped his nephew stay somewhat social, and Wayne knew how important that would be for Eddie's future. If the boy was nothing but a lone recluse his whole life, he'd probably end up just like Al. Nobody wanted that.

Eddie was just about grown now. Sure, he was rearing twenty and still in his senior year of high school, but Wayne had an inkling that '86 would be Eddie's year.

Wayne had always thought about selling the trailer and buying an RV with retirement money once Eddie was out on his own. He wanted to travel the country for the remainder of his life.

The idea that he'd have to raise up another wild Munson for the next fifteen or so years caused a knot to form in his stomach.

Would Wayne even be around for that much longer? He may have been relatively healthy, and he was only in his mid 60's, but Wayne wasn't an idiot. He knew anything could happen at any time.

Wayne knew he needed help this time around. He figured he could count on Eddie here and there, but Eddie needed to focus on school this year if he planned on finally walking the stage. Because of this, Wayne decided to enlist the help of someone on the outside. Someone with experience.

So, he posted an ad in the Hawkins Post, looking for a full-time nanny for a five-year-old boy to start as soon as possible, and waited for a response.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Wayne didn't have to wait long.

Two mornings following the job post, shortly after he'd returned home from work, he heard a knock on the trailer door.

When he answered, he saw a pretty young thing standing on the front stoop.

"Hi!" you greeted, then immediately began to ramble. "Are you Mr. Munson? I hope it's okay I just showed up... there wasn't a number listed, only an address, and I didn't know if you wanted me to write a response and mail it, but the ad seemed maybe a little urgent, so I thought, hey, what's the harm in just... showing... up..."

You trailed off, feeling silly for word vomiting during your first impression. He was watching you with a small smile, eyes flickering with what looked like amusement, especially as your cheeks began to color to the soft red of embarrassment.

Listing no number on the ad was intentional. He hadn't owned a rotary phone in about ten years, after having tried to cut back on bills, and he knew not just anyone would make the trek to Forest Hills for a potential job offer. He’d figured only committed applicants that wouldn't waste his time would follow through.

"I have a lot of experience," you continued on at his silence, almost as if you couldn't help it, compelled to divulge all the information you could in the first three minutes of meeting. Wayne found it endearing. "I used to babysit for three different families when I was in high school. And I have two little sisters. My mom and dad worked a lot growing up, so I spent a lot of time with them. Didn't get paid, but... I made sure they didn't die or anything..."

From their brief interaction thus far, Wayne knew he succeeded in his method of weeding out flakes. You were obviously serious about the position. He felt he was a decent judge of character, and he'd learned in life that sometimes over-explaining was synonymous with caring.

"Sorry," you said, forcing out a little laugh. "I guess I could have just introduced myself. You didn't really need to know all that." You shot your hand out, giving your name. "I'm here about the nannying gig. Um, obviously. That is, if I didn't already scare you off."

Wayne took your hand in both of his own, shaking it. He placated you with a grin. "It's a lot harder than that to scare off a Munson, sweetheart. Let's go inside and meet Olly."

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Although Oliver Munson was only five, he had a spectacular vocabulary and a limitless imagination. Wayne knew the boy was a little charmer, quite like how Eddie was when he allowed himself to be, when the teenager wasn't drowning himself in existential teenage angst and nonsense.

You fell under Olly's spell almost instantly.

And it seemed the little boy had fallen under yours as well.

Oliver didn't stop talking to you while you were there, and didn't stop talking about you after you’d left, asking when you’d be back and if next time you could take him to the trailer park's playground and maybe you two could watch G.I. Joe or He-Man together afterward.

Wayne had taken your number down before you’d left and had told you he'd be in touch soon.

Later that evening, after Eddie had gotten back from his club meeting at school, Wayne took the trip into downtown Hawkins to use the payphone and ask you if you wouldn't mind starting as early as tomorrow.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

You were far from struggling for money.

Your father was a sought-after criminal prosecutor for the entirety of Indiana. Your mother was a real estate agent for high profile clientele who came from old family money; her father was CEO of a day trading business, and his father before him had been the same.

Although you likely would have never had to work a day in your life and could live a comfortable existence off of inheritance alone, handouts and the humdrum of an All-Play-and-No-Work lifestyle was never a dream of yours. That sounded so cookie cutter, so monotonous, so boring.

You liked to feel a sense of accomplishment. You liked setting goals and reaching them. You didn't want to freeload off of money that was gained from the capitalistic professions your parents were a part of. You wanted to be in control of your own finances and be the author of your own future, not have it already be etched into stone simply by being just another rich kid from Hawkins, à la the likes of the Carver's or the Cunningham's or the Harrington's.

You were ecstatic when you got the call from Wayne, asking you if you’d be willing to start the following day. He left for work at 2PM, so you’d have to be there before then, and would need to plan on staying until Wayne's nephew got home around six.

If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you felt a bit nervous, but the job itself wasn't the reason why that writhing feeling accompanied your excitement.

You had more than ten years of babysitting experience under your belt, and you were eager to get back into a job you actually enjoyed as opposed to trying out different careers to see what stuck and what didn't. Having graduated the spring before, you’d been taking an off year to save up money by working odd jobs around Hawkins to be able to buy your own apartment.

You’d worked as a florist for a few weeks, but it turned out your thumb was pitch black instead of green.

You worked as the personal assistant for a group of lawyers from a local law firm, but it turned out they just needed office eye candy and not someone to actually get any sort of work done.

You worked as a veterinary assistant, but it turned out the job was much more than just petting cats and dogs. You couldn't handle it when a sick animal would come in and there would be nothing anyone could do. Your heart broke more at that clinic than it had your entire life.

You were in between jobs when you’d decided to peruse the classified section of the Hawkins post. There, in the shortest blurb on the page, was a listing for a needed nanny, a full-time position offering negotiable pay.

The next bit was where the excitement wavered.

The listing was published by a Wayne Munson of the Forest Hills trailer park.

That had to be Eddie Munson's uncle. There was no way there were two separate Munson families living in the only trailer park in Kerley County.

You couldn't believe that you’d stumbled across this ad, that the geeky metalhead you’d crushed on since your freshman year of high school had a little brother you could be the potential nanny of.

You were two years younger than Eddie, but that hadn't stopped you from losing periods of time to daydreams about the way the wind ruffled his wild mess of curls on breezy days or the way his band tee sleeves always clung perfectly to the soft muscles of his biceps or the way his cheeks dimpled when he teased the other boys he sat with at lunch.

You’d always wanted to introduce yourself, but you didn't run in the same crowds -- you being on the cheer team and Eddie blasting Black Sabbath in the parking lot after his Hellfire meetings. You could never muster the courage. He seemed so carefree, so full of life, so effortlessly funny. Chrissy Cunningham, your best friend, had spoken to him once or twice and had told you how different he was than what other people said about him. He wasn't scary or mean or threatening, and instead was warm and silly and genuine.

But you knew how the people you spent your time around treated people like him. You knew your group of "friends" referred to him as a freak, a Satan worshipper, and did everything in their power to try to bully him into becoming a shell of himself. Thankfully, he never did -- it was almost as if Eddie absorbed the hatefulness and spent it tenfold by mocking the hilarity of the jock hierarchy that ruled the school, as well as using it to strengthen his own ability to embrace every misfit that walked the halls of Hawkins High.

You never introduced yourself because you were afraid he’d think you had an ulterior motive, that you’d be trying to talk to him as a joke or a prank. You knew the company you kept. You were sure Jason Carver had once or twice suggested you do just that, lead Eddie on and make a fool of him in front of the whole school.

You figured it'd be best to just stay away.

But now, you thought finding this ad was possibly a sign from the universe.

Maybe you were getting a second chance.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Eddie was running late.

He was supposed to be back home half an hour ago to relieve whoever Olly's new babysitter was of her duties, but the campaign had taken a shocking turn and Hellfire couldn't disband until it had commenced.

The night finally ended with Will's character decapitating Dustin's, and Eddie had to thwart an actual attack when Dustin leapt across the game table at Will in a bout of rage. Dustin was small but mighty, and Eddie had to physically wrestle the boy off of Will's neck, threatening to banish Dustin from the next few campaigns if he didn’t chill out. Henderson had huffed and puffed but had admitted defeat and apologized to Will for the attempted murder.

By the time Eddie arrived back to the trailer park, the sun had almost set. He pulled his van into his parking spot to the right of the trailer and shut it off. Stepping out, he swung his backpack over his shoulder, but came to a halt when he heard Olly's scream sound from behind the trailer.

Dropping his bag and beginning to run toward the noise, Eddie's heart fell to his stomach. Horrible images of what could possibly be pulling that sound from his little brother pervaded Eddie's mind. He had an overactive imagination to begin with, and something like this verbal cue only egged it on. "Olly!" he shouted, panic raising his voice. "Olly, are you okay?! What’s going on, where are --"

Eddie came to a halt when he found the boy in the backyard with a huge smile spread across his small, sweaty face. Olly had a fake crown on, one made of twigs and leaves, and he was carrying one of the biggest sticks Eddie had ever seen. He had a blanket tucked into the back of his shirt, the cloth a makeshift cape. A thin piece of metal, probably from one of the cars Wayne and Eddie sometimes worked on, was wrapped around his center, acting as armor.

Olly had just been playing.

Letting out a heavy breath of relief, Eddie noticed your frame just off to the side. His eyes started from the ground up, noting the shiny red Docs donning your feet, moving up bare legs that were covered mid-thigh by a short black skater dress, one that hugged your curves in a way that had Eddie’s mouth going dry.

By the time he reached your face, your eyes were wide with amusement.

You’d been watching as he slowly drank you in. He didn't mean to ogle. He had to shake his head a few times to clear it, and when he did so, the face before him started looking more and more familiar.

"Wait," he started, head tilting. He spoke your name, tone riddled with confusion. "From high school?"

You were about to answer when Oliver cleared his throat, obviously not wanting to be ignored or to have his playtime interrupted any longer. You looked down at the boy, who pointed up to his head at his crown. You got the gist -- Olly wanted the game to continue. You could indulge him. You’d been doing it all day, and honestly you’d been having the most fun you’d had in a while.

You turned your attention back to Eddie, fixing your posture and jutting your chin out slightly. "I don't know who that is," you began, voice lilting. "I am Princess Guinevere of Kerley County and this here,” you brought your gaze back down to Oliver, “is my most loyal servant, Sir Olly of Castle Munson."

Eddie couldn't help the grin that broke out over his face at your announcement. He then took a moment to fully take in the rest of your appearance. You, too, had on a makeshift crown, this one made up of cherry blossoms and daisies. You had a flowing blanket tucked into the back of your dress, cascading down your back like a veil.

No fucking way were you, last year's cheerleading captain and prom queen, standing in his backyard playing fucking knights and princesses with his little brother. No fucking way.

Olly broke the silence by shouting out, "Hey, Eddie! Who are you gonna be?"

Eddie tore his eyes from you to focus on his brother. He pursed his lips to one side in thought, trying to come up with a character. He was usually quick on his feet when it came to creative play, but he had just spent the last three hours DM'ing a month-long DnD campaign. His brain felt shot. He was pulled from his introspective reverie by your soft, suggestive voice — no, sorry — the soft, suggestive voice of Princess Guinevere.

"Wanna be my dragon, Eddie?" you asked.

Eddie wasn't exactly sure why that made his breath catch in his throat.

He nodded dumbly, silent, then forced himself to speak because he didn't want to look totally lame in front of a Princess. "Okay. Yeah, I'll be your dragon."

You graced him with a smile before Oliver's tiny but booming voice cut through the air of the darkening night. "HEY! Dragons don't talk!" the boy stomped his foot and hit his stick against the muddy ground in annoyance.

A laugh bubbled from your throat and Eddie grinned, jumping into a wide-legged stance before outstretching his arms, tilting his head back, and roaring.

[bookuce]

VACAY -- JEY USO MINI SERIES

Summary: Maya Jones is a cutthroat broker extremely dedicated to her firm Trammell & Barnes. She has dreams and aspirations of making partner one day, which means she’s willing to sacrifice all her time to bring it to fruition. Her colleagues and boss think she needs a break, so they give her a mandatory one-week vacation, effectively immediately.

PAIRING: JEY USO X BLACK OC

TROPE: N/A

WARNINGS: N/A

PART ONE

Maya was dedicated to her firm, spending countless hours at the office. She was always the first one in and the last one out, making her a valuable asset to her team. Her colleagues couldn’t recall a day she’s ever taken off, at least not willingly. Only a cold or a family emergency can keep her down; even then, she tried to work. It wasn’t healthy to be this absorbed in her work, but when you’re working towards making partner, you want to do everything you can to appeal to the higher-ups. To her, showing that she was readily available was the way in. To everyone else, it was the way into an early grave or a mental institution, whichever comes first. 

“Hey, Maya?” A voice will call from her office door, followed by a knock. She glances up from behind the round frames of her glasses, pushing the sliding bifocals back up the bridge of her nose. Tara, the front desk receptionist, hung off the door frame, her red lips parted as she watched the woman.“Pete wants to see you in his office.” She informs her, pointing out the door with her thumb.

The slouch of Maya’s back would gradually vanish as she sat up straight, ungluing herself from the computer in front of her. “Did he say for what?” She asks, not moving from her seat just yet. Tara would shake her head, briefly pressing her lips into a thin line.

“Nope, only said to get you.” She answers. 

Pete was her boss, one of the men she admired in the field she dearly loved. He was a mentor to her, her teacher, and one of the men that believed in her the most. He didn’t call on her often, but when he did, it was for good reason. Maybe she was finally getting her chance to prove she was worthy of making partner. “Very well,” She breathes, pushing out from her desk and standing to her feet. She peers below her desk, putting on the Louboutin pumps she’d taken off hours ago. “Thanks,” She mutters, walking towards her door. The two ladies exit the office into the main space filled with cubicles and chattering employees. They walk side-by-side towards Pete’s office on the other side of the space. “Did he sound different? Enthusiastic, upset, maybe?” Maya asks, glancing over at the woman next to her.

“Not really.” She says before branching off from Maya when they reach his door. “Have fun.” She tells her, now returning to the front of the building. Maya watches after her for a few seconds before glancing at the cherry mahogany door before her.

 Well, here goes nothing.

Maya lifts her fist to the door, giving the door three quick raps. “It’s open,” Pete calls from the other side of the door. She grabs the doorknob, twisting to open the door. Maya enters the room, natural light bathing her body as she takes in the walls of windows behind Pete’s desk. She never gets tired of being in here, one of the most stunning views in this office. One day, this will be her office, she believes. “Maya, thanks for coming,” He breathes. He points at one of the stunning black accent chairs before his desk. “Please, take a seat.” Maya fully enters the grand office, closing the door behind her.

He didn’t seem to be upset about anything, nor did he look excited. It was hard to gauge his emotions. What could this spontaneous meeting be about?

Slowly, she approached one of the chairs, wincing with each step. Though gorgeous, the heels on her feet were painful; all of them were really. It was the price she paid to look like someone of importance in this firm. It was all part of the charade. She should consider wearing flats for a few weeks moving forward and give herself a deserving break from these torture devices. “You don’t let me in here often,” She jokes, earning a laugh from the greying man. “What’s the occasion?”

Pete finally looks away from his computer, giving her a slight smile. Well, that’s assuring, she thought. “How are you?” He asks. How are you, she thought, am I getting fired? She furrows her brows at the question, glancing off to the left. “You’re fine, I promise.” He assures her. “I just want to know how you are. You’ve been working a lot. One of the last to leave the office most days, I heard.” He notes.

“Never better,” She breathes, smiling big at him. “I believe we are very close to closing the McGregor deal. Their team is finally starting to cooperate after stonewalling us for two weeks.” She informs him. “This time next week, Trammell & Barnes will be 10.5 million richer.” She closes with a grin. Pete nods at her, a half smile on his lips.

“Very impressive, Maya.”

“Thank you, sir.” She nods, confidence blossoming on her lips at the validation she just received.

Pete glances at some papers on his desk, sifting through the pile for a particular one. “You should take a vacation to celebrate the closing of the McGregor deal.” He suggests. When he finds the paper he needs, he thumps it. 

Maya chuckles softly at his words, shaking her head. “There’s no time for vacations, sir. The job isn’t complete until their people sign the dotted line.” She explains. “After that, I’m returning to the Samuels account. Their President is ready to conduct negotiations now. I got that email early this morning from his assistant.” She informs her boss. She was a woman on a mission––a woman seeking a corner office with windows for walls. Pete’s eyebrows jumped at the mention of another account she had lined up. This woman just doesn’t stop, does she, he thought. No. No, she does not, Pete. 

“Ed will be taking over that––with full credit to you, of course,” Pete tells her. Maya grows quiet at his words, her brows furrowing at his statement. Ed? Why would Ed be taking over her accounts?

“I’m not following,” She starts. “Am I getting…fired?” Her voice cracks at the end of her question. There was a pain in her chest due to the anxiety she was now feeling from this conversation. All of this hard work for nothing. 

“And let another firm have our most valuable broker? Absolutely not.” He says, deadening her fears. She lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, her hand going to her chest. “We are sending you off on a mandatory vacation, though. Effective immediately.” He tells her, making her pause.

“I’m sorry?”

Pete passes over the paper he had just thumped, allowing Maya to read over it. “Yearly reports are in, and Human Resources says you have yet to take a vacation, and it is required to use some of your vacation hours.” She reads over the printed email from their HR Team. In fine print, this is her vacation time. In bold numbers were eighty hours, and their year was almost over. She looks up at her boss, putting the paper in her lap.

“That’s a thing?” She asks.

“I’m afraid so.” He says, earning a hum out of her. She peers out the windows to the east in deep thought. Could she make this work from home? She could host a few video conferences in her home office; that won’t be an issue. “Furthermore, we’re restricting your accesses from the servers while you’re off on vacation––.”

“Wait, what?” There goes her plans of working while she’s away.

“Maya, we appreciate the work you do for us and the team, but health and wellness are crucial to us here at Trammell & Barnes. You cannot do your best work while under immense stress.” He explains. 

“I’m not stressed!” She exclaims, earning a stern look from her boss. She clears her throat, relaxing into her seat once more. “Sorry, sir.” She apologizes, averting her eyes to her lap. “With all due respect, Pete, I appreciate the concern for my well-being, but I’m fine!” She says with a prize-winning smile. “If you want to send me off on a vacation, that is fine, but allow me to do my work from home.” She pleads.

Pete chuckles at her begging, shaking his head. “I’ll tell you, you are almost as crazy as I was at your age. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you, kid; I mean that,”

“Thank you,” She interjects.

“You’re welcome,” He quickly replies. “But vacations are not vacations if you are working.” He tells her. “Take the week off, put the laptop away, and turn off your phone.” He orders with a point of his finger. “I can’t wait to hear all about what you did when you return.” He says, gesturing towards the door. 

And just like that, there was no chance of further persuading her boss. His word was law, and she must follow it. “Will do,” She closes. Maya stands to her feet, smoothing out the front of her skirt as she does so.

“See you next week,” Pete says after her, waving as she exited the room. 

The door to his office shuts loudly behind Maya, causing her to flinch from its thunderous bang. Slowly, she walks back toward her office, her eyes unblinking. The fuck was she supposed to do for a week? She planned her life around her job, which meant she did things at odd hours. She could move everything around for the week if she wanted, but that would throw her off for the week she returned to work. Sigh, this was a lot. “So, what did he say?” A voice says from beside her, making her jump. She peers to her left at the woman who ushered her to her boss’s earlier, giving her a slight glare.

“Jesus, Tara.”

“Sorry,” She says, following her to her office. “Well, you’re not in tears, so I guess you’re not unemployed.” She says, waving her hands around with a wiggle of her fingers. “Congratulations on surviving another week.” Maya walks around her desk, sitting down once more. Angrily, she types in her password to her computer.

“You’re hilarious,” Maya replies in a monotonous tone.

“Thanks, I’ll be here all week.” She says, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Wish I could say the same,” Maya says, logging onto the timekeeping system. “It appears that I have to leave the building,” She grumbles. “Something about I’m here too much.” She presses the clock-out button on the screen and logs off the computer.

Tara lifts an eyebrow at the news, confused as to why she sounds devastated. She would love a week off from work, and this woman is acting ungrateful. “Oh, thank God.” She says, prompting Maya to pause at the response. “What? You are here too much. I speak for everyone in the office when I say this––go away.” She tells her. Maya lowered her eyes at the receptionist.

“Don’t you have phone calls to be answering?” She asks. On cue, a phone call would come through Tara’s headset, forcing her to cut her conversation with the out-of-commission workaholic short.

“Enjoy your vacation!” She says, tapping her headset. “Trammell & Barnes, this is Tara speaking.” She greets the caller, exiting the room. Maya rolls her eyes at the woman, standing to her feet again. 

Welp, only one thing left to do, she thought, walking over to the wall her purse and coat hung on. She grabs her belongings, sliding the coat over her curvy frame and the satchel over her shoulder. She’d adjust her hair, pulling it out from beneath the coat and fluffing it to its previous state. “Okay,” She breathes, giving her office one last look. When she returns next week, there better not be another person setting up shop here. She exits her office, closing the door behind her as she does so.

Now commencing: one unwanted week of vacation.

_______________

a/n: I've decided to make this a two or three-part story. it will not go on any longer than this! let me know what you think so far! Jey will be in the next part, I promise!

🏷️ list: @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseverybodywant @headoftheetable @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @yana3sworld @wanderingreigns @wrestlingprincess80 @siriuslycee @vebner37 @astridxxxxxx @alichesmi @tshepisho @scarlettnoir01 @brokenglassslippers @reignsboy19 @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @sisinever @truefant4sy @paigereeder @tbmotw @fearlesschimera @venusesworld @usoholic @sageispunk @bebesobrielo @jstarr86 @vibessonvibes @issahyland @fandomphasess @evilli0s @xoxoneah @hunnidmilly @mindairy

[asumofwords]

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Smut, P in V intercourse, daddy kink, dirty talk, praise, creampie, angst, fighting.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Hello my babies, sorry for the like 2 hour delay, I've been crying after watching Atonement for the first time. I am unwell. I don't think I will ever be okay again lmao, I had to go watch Pride and Prejudice to make me feel better. Anyway, Enjoy ;) <3

Chapter 8: Boiling Point

Cregan ended up staying the night. Nothing sexually happened, but instead the man had held you against him the entire evening and whispered words of praise to you, assuring you that you were okay, and that things would be fine. 

When you woke the next morning, you had felt the need to apologise to Aemond, Cregan’s chat to you the night before still running laps in your mind. Aemond was not used to kindness, perhaps he didn’t know what to do with it, and if he wasn’t going to initiate the first steps, you might as well try. 

You didn’t want to have to spend the rest of your month in an awkward tension with the man you were living with. It was up to Aemond if he wanted to respond to the olive branch you would extend.

You snuck out of bed to leave the Stark man, still sleeping, hair half over his face, chest rising and falling heavily, behind you. You shut the door quietly with a click, eyes flitting up to find Aemond’s door still closed. 

Usually he was up by now. 

You moved to the kitchen, making yourself a cup of tea, and a black coffee for Aemond. You weren’t sure how he took it, if he liked sugar or not, but decided that at least the attempt was worth something. Perhaps even speaking his own language, the tea he made you in the mornings your own interpretation of his civility. You hoped that the gesture portrayed the same meaning to him as it did to you.

But it was better than nothing.

You trudged to his door, tea and coffee in hand, steam winding its way off the two of them as you kicked softly at the wood in a knocking manner with your toes. 

Knock Knock.

Silence was the only thing that you could hear from the other side of the door. 

You knocked again, knock knock knock, shifting on your feet as you felt awkward and uncertain of what to do. You craned your head to look down the hall; His keys were still in the bowl.

Aemond was definitely in his room. 

You tried to knock again, knock knock knock, watching the door knob expectantly, hoping to see it be turned and opened, but it didn’t. Taking it as a sign that he did not wish to be disturbed, you placed the mug of coffee on the floor in front of his door. You sighed in disappointment, but ultimately retreated into your room with your tail tucked between your legs. 

If he wanted to speak with you, he would. 

Cregan stirred in your bed, looking comically large in your sheets as he watched you enter, smiling at you sleepily. You put your tea on the bedside table, and crawled in beside him, his large palms pulling you against him almost immediately, tucking your head beneath his chin in habit. He yawned quietly and rubbed smoothing gestures up and down your back.

Your soft knocking must have woken him up. And yet, he did not exit his room.

You laid together in bed, drinking your tea as you strained your ears to hear if Aemond had exited his room, desperate to speak to him. You knew that he was in the wrong, that what he had said was inexcusable, but you had said some nasty things too, and after what Cregan told you the night before, it all made sense to you.

All his nastiness, bitterness, and sudden bouts of hot and cold all made sense, and with the added mystery of Alys, that was becoming less of a mystery to you now, you began to somewhat understand the man that was Aemond Targaryen. 

It was hard to not sympathise with him. Hard to not try and understand the way that he was. The way he acted in the ways he did. How he was cold and aloof, not daring to let anyone close to him, and biting at anyone he deemed a threat; getting too close for comfort.

When you finally exited your room, Cregan sleepily following after you, you had given up waiting for anything to happen, for the sight of silver white hair to appear at your open bedroom door, or noises from within alert you to his movements. You walked past Aemond’s closed door, the now cold cup of coffee still sitting in front of it, steam long gone from the top, and a brown film having settled at the surface. You frowned at it, but opted to leave it. 

You had tried, and it was proof of your effort.

Aemond could come to you when he was ready.

But after three days had passed, it seemed that Aemond was in fact not ready to talk to you, and had become more illusive than the Lochness Monster. You hadn’t seen his silver hair and mismatched eyes since that night, and a web of anxiety began to tug at your stomach again.

When you got home from work that day, you ran straight to the shower, frustration from Larys’ leering caused your shoulders to have tensed so terribly, that you felt an oncoming knot as you rode the train home. You stood under the shower for what could have been an hour, not caring if the hot water ran out, having it on the highest setting possibly, digging your knuckles into your trapezius to try and work out the stress. 

By the time you had felt marginally calmer, your skin had wrinkled and pruned, and you had exited, spending extra time moisturising your body and fixing your hair, dressing into some pyjamas before you steadying yourself to face the music, making a promise to yourself that you would talk to him, and stay up all night if you had to. 

Aemond would be better than Larys.

You hoped.

You cooked your dinner slowly, ears pricking to listen for the door and his return home, shifting occasionally to look over your shoulder in the hopes that he would appear silently in the lounge room as he sometimes did. 

Anxiety and apprehension ate away at you, the ball of nervousness growing larger and larger the longer you waited. That nagging voice in the back of your head telling you to leave it, to just bask in the awkwardness of it all, but the other part of you longed for a connection with him, and to at least try to get through to him.

By the time you finished cooking, and ate your dinner in silence, keeping the TV on mute so that you could hear him approaching or if he tried to sneak back into the apartment, you had begun to grow rapidly tired, fingers digging into the sore muscle of your shoulder to try keep you awake. 

It was nearing midnight when you finally heard the soft scraping of keys in the front door. You sat up straighter, turning your attention to the hallway as you listened to Aemond drop his keys into the bowl quietly and make his way down the hall.

His violet eye met yours and you watched breathlessly as he stilled, looking at you sitting straight and tall on the couch as you waited for him. And as you gazed at him, you felt your mouth go dry.

Aemond was in his black running shorts and running shoes, hair in a low and messy bun, the front of his hair slicked to his forehead from sweat. His silver chain was around his neck as it always was, glinting it the light of the room. 

But that was it.

That’s all Aemond wore.

Aemond was shirtless.

His stomach rippled as it tensed, porcelain skin glistening with sweat, a soft pink blush spreading across his chest and up his neck. A heat settled in your gut as you looked at him, his chest rising and falling rapidly from exertion.

The man blinked, abruptly turning his head away from you as he went straight to the kitchen, pulling down a glass of water quietly from the cupboard, filling it in the sink. The sound of the tap was loud in your ears.

You stood shakily, nervous and unsure of how to approach the conversation. Or even approach him. You didn’t know how he was going to react. What he was going to say or do. 

Would he reject you entirely? Turn nasty again? 

Or would he stare at you impassively and boredly?

You cleared your throat, stupid lump of anxiety stuck in the back of it as you stepped around the small coffee table and into the kitchen. Aemond’s back was still to you, shoulder blades moving as he drank, the bones of his ribs wrapped tightly with lean muscles, chest expanding with a deep inhale. 

“Hey, um. Can we talk?” You held your hands in front of your legs, turning your fingers against one another nervously. 

Gods, why did he make you so nervous? 

Aemond swallowed the water that was in his mouth, turning his head slightly to the side to indicate that he had heard you, though not audibly responding back, nor even moving to look at you, his back still to you as he moved to refill his glass again.

You opened your mouth to try again, to garner a reaction, a show that he was listening other than the slight tilt of his head like a parent who was disapproving of their child. But by the time you worked up the courage again to speak, the glass about half full, Aemond spoke.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Came his low response, almost drowned out by the sound of the running water.

Oh for fucks sake.

“I think there’s plenty to talk about, actually.” You argued softly.

You took a sighing breath and continued, Here goes nothing, “I think that we both owe each other an apology.”

Aemond turned off the tap with more force than what was needed, “What?”

You sighed, watching as he turned around to face you, brows narrowed as he looked down his nose at you. 

Was he surprised? Offended? 

Why was he looking at you as though he didn’t understand your intentions?

You swallowed, “About the other night. I think we both said some things that we didn’t mean.”

Aemond’s jaw ticked, but he did not respond. 

Why was he being like this?

You brushed your hair away from your face roughly, feeling small and vulnerable in front of him.

Desperate, His words rang in your ear.

“I think,” You licked your lips, not sure how to go forward, “I think that what happened was not okay. And what you said to me was not okay. But what I said to you, was definitely not right either.” Another deep breath, trying to stem the rambling confession.

Why was this so hard? 

“And I wanted to apologise for that. I shouldn’t have brought her up, and I definitely shouldn’t have implied that you were at fault in your relationship with her. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, it’s none of my business, and I regret saying what I did.” You nibbled at your lip anxiously, watching as the Targaryen’s mouth twitched.

Silence curled around the two of you, and the longer you waited, the more you realised perhaps he thought you wished to continue. That perhaps he was waiting for you to say moe, or those two words that you felt suddenly begrudged to do.

“I’m sorry, Aemond. I was disrespectful and rude, but I was hurting. That’s not an excuse, but I think it's a bit of an explanation. Or at least, I hope it is.” You parroted Cregan’s words.

Not an excuse, an explanation.

You stared at him for what felt like forever, watching as he breathed shallowly, leant back against the bench, fingers twitching over his glass of water. He took a sip, and then another, and you watched as you thought he was finding the words to say, as though he was thinking of different ways to apologise to you, but by the time the glass became half full it became more and more apparent that Aemond had no intentions to say anything.

No apology. 

No rebuttal. 

No thanks.

Nothing.

Anger began to simmer inside of you.

“Are you going to say anything?”

Silence. 

You shook your head sadly, pushing down the heat that rose in your chest, now was not the time to become angry, “I’m trying, Aemond. I’m really trying to be understanding, but you hurt me. You made me feel so used after what we did.” But the heat pushed its way through you; Shame, embarrassment, anger, “I don’t understand what I have done to warrant your anger. Please just tell me what I’ve done wrong so I can apologise and set things right. I don’t like this animosity between us, I don’t like feeling like I’m nothing in your eyes, that I’m lesser than or a nuisance.” You felt tears begin to build, “I don’t like feeling like I have to walk on eggshells in my own home, or that I have to worry about my roommates brother hating me. I don’t want Helaena to come home and have to deal with this mess.”

Aemond frowned deeply, setting down his glass on the kitchen bench, “I don’t hate you.”

Your brows cinched together in confusion, “Then why are you so cruel? You have been nothing but cold to me since you moved in. I’ve tried so hard to be nice, to-to include you in things I didn’t need to, but you give me nothing in return!”

Damn your anger. But you were wounded, and lashing out.

The silver haired man sucked his tongue loudly, “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Want from you?” You were confused, “Aemond, I want you to treat me with some basic human decency, and maybe, if I’m really lucky, have you apologise for calling me desperate after we- what we did.”

Aemond’s eye dragged over your face, sliding down your chest to watch the way you heaved worked up breaths. And yet he still stayed silent, shifting on his feet uncomfortably as he looked down at you.

A wave of hurt crashed over your head, and you scoffed, “Unbelievable. I don’t know why I even bothered.” You spun on your heel, moving to make your way back to your room. To go hide. To not let him see the hurt or the shame that you felt. To curl into your sheets and just disappear.

You don’t know why you thought things could change, that he could be kinder. 

You felt like a fool.

Aemond’s arm shot out and grabbed your wrist pulling you back to him. You turned, other hand trying to pry his fingers off of your wrist, the long digits not budging. 

“If you would just wait a second, instead of storming off again.” He growled in annoyance.

You recoiled in his grip, “How much longer do you want me to embarrass myself as I wait for you to say two fucking words? It’s not that hard, Aemond.”

His eye narrowed, “This stuff doesn’t come easy to me, if you-“

“-Spoken like a true asshole. ‘Apologising isn’t something I ever do.’” You mocked his tone, “Let go of me, Aemond, I’m done. I’m not playing your little games anymore. You can fuck off for all I care.”

Aemond did not let go, “You think this is a game?”

“What else would it be?”

The Targaryen’s eye flicked back and forth on your face. Yet he said nothing.

Digging your fingers into his hand you tried to tug yourself from his grip angrily, “Let go of me.” You tried to pull your wrist away again, Aemond’s grip getting tighter, “I said-“

“-I’m sorry.” Aemond spoke quietly.

You stared at him angrily, hand dropping from his own that gripped your wrist. 

“For?”

Aemond’s lip twitched, “For being a dick.”

“All together now.” You encouraged him, staring up at him in anger.

A brow lifted on his face as he looked down at you, “Now look who’s being the dick. I’m trying to apologise to you.”

“Shit fucking apology.” You snapped.

Aemond ran a hand through the front of his hair, messed and slick tresses sticking up in different ways, and yet he still looked ruggish- NO, “I don’t know what you want from me, Y/n. I’m sorry, okay? You didn’t deserve that. I was a dick, and you didn’t deserve that.”

“You were. You were- sorry- are a fucking asshole who treats everyone around him like they’re beneath his designer shoe.”

“I don-“

“-‘I don’t’. You don’t know much do you?”

Aemond’s jaw ticked, “Look,” He all but growled, “I’m trying-“

“You’re not trying hard enough.”

You don’t know why you kept at it. You don’t know why you were provoking him, pushing him, not taking his shitty little apology and calling it a day, but it was just that. A shitty little apology, and it felt like there was no meaning behind the words nor promise of change. Like a chore he had been tasked to do.

He just made you so angry, all the damn time. His arrogance, his cock sure smirk, the way he even held himself. It was infuriating. Intoxicating. It-

No. Stop it.

The hand around your wrist tightened, and you watched as Aemond’s chest rose and fell sharply, cheek twitching. His face hardened as he looked down at you, and the tiny voice in the back of your brain screamed ‘Predator! Run!’ 

But you didn’t. 

“What else do you want me to do?” He said lowly, pushing himself off of the kitchen bench, his chest bumping into yours, “You want me to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness?”

You don’t know why you said it, you don’t know why your brain even reacted the way it did, but there was something about Aemond that made you want to push him. Made you want to see him react. 

And so you goaded him.

“Yes.”

The tall silver haired man pressed a tongue in his cheek, “You want me to react, don’t you? Such a brat.”

You blinked. 

Fuck.

Aemond’s lip twitched as he watched you blanch, his head tilting to look down at you with his lone seeing eye. It sent shivers down your spine, and your core clenched instinctually around nothing. 

“You just keep being a bratty little bitch so that I be a dick to you, huh? Did you even want an apology? Or did you want me to put you in your place? Finish what we started?”

You opened your mouth to argue, to make a point that you did want that apology, but Aemond pulled you forward with his grip on your wrist, the other hand gripping the back of your neck, crashing his lips against yours. 

It was all teeth and desperation, nipping at each other, pulling at each others hair, hands gripping each other roughly. It was a culmination of the tension, the elastic band that had been stretched out, pulled so taut that it finally snapped back. 

Aemond tasted like smoke and water, tongue dipping into your mouth to taste you, holding his mouth against yours, groaning into your lips as he held you, the both of you fighting for dominance. You pulled at his bottom lip with your teeth sharply, pressing your body up against him.

Long fingers dipped under your sleep shirt, pulling it up and over your head, the top forgotten on the tiled kitchen floor, a chill spreading across your chest as you leant into him for warmth. Aemond’s hands skated up your sides, coming to cup your breasts, thumbs flicking teasingly over your nipples. You moaned into his mouth, nipples stiffening into peaks.

Aemond’s hands were so large you noted as he held you, and you mewled quietly into his mouth as his hands skated sideways, covering your ribs entirely as he spun you around, lifting you with little effort to sit you on the kitchen bench. 

The kiss was broken as you were lifted, his lips trailing down your neck to the valley of your breasts, pressing a teasing kiss to your sternum before moving to lap at a nipple with his tongue. Your hands flew to the back of his head, pressing him against you as you hissed, feeling his teeth graze over the stiffened peak. 

“Fuck.” You whined.

Aemond slotted himself between your thighs, your legs instinctually wrapping around him to bring him closer. You could feel his hard length against your inner thigh as he rolled his hips, swapping to the other breast to pay it the same attention as the other, whilst a hand slid down your body to cup your core softly. Your hips rolled into his hand, desperate for more, desperate to get the friction you so desperately needed. 

And yet he kept his hand still, just cupping you. 

Teasing you.

“Please.” You begged, rolling your hips again into his palm, grasping his wrist to try and move his hand to dip beneath your pyjama shorts. 

Aemond chuckled against your chest, moving away from the sensitive nipple with a flick of his tongue which sent your back arching into him, “So needy.”

You growled in annoyance, hands moving to the front of his pants, hoping that it would speed him along. As soon as your hand grazed his length, your eyes widened, looking down. 

He was big.

Really big.

“Oh.” You said quietly, blush erupting on your cheeks, looking down at the long and thick outline in his pants, “Fuck.”

Those sweatpants had done him a disservice.

Aemond looked down at you hungrily, pupil blown wide with lust and lips reddened from your kiss. His eye dropped down to where your gaze had fallen, one finger tracing up and down his length, a shiver running over his body. 

He grabbed your chin, crashing his lips to yours again as he ground into your palm, his hands coming to shimmy his pants down his hips, kicking them off, his cock slapping against his stomach, heavy with want. He toed his shoes and socks of next in a rush, pants falling from his mouth. Your palm gripped him tightly, moving from base to tip as he sighed into you. He was hot in your pam, long and girthy, with the tip wet with his arousal. 

As you gripped him you realised just how large the man was. It was always the skinny white boys that were equipped with cocks like this, you thought. So unsuspecting in their lean stature, but their missing body mass had to go somewhere you supposed. 

Aemond was no exception to the rule. 

Your hand could barely wrap around it.

You wondered briefly if it would even fit.

Aemond pulled backwards as you whined desperately at the loss of him, but the disappointment was short lived as his hands gripped your hips and ripped your shorts off in one swift movement before slotting himself back between your thighs, yanking you to the edge of the bench. His length lined up with your soaked core, rubbing his tip through your folds to gather the slick at your entrance. 

Aemond wasted no time, too impatient and pent up to wait or even prepare you, and so he pushed inside of you with one swift thrust. 

You had never felt so full in your life.

You moaned loudly, head thrown back as you felt the stretch of him, his length splitting you apart and filling you entirely. Each inch of him pressed deliciously against your walls as you breathed heavily, eyes dropping back to his face. 

Aemond stilled for one moment, a moment of mercy, to give you time to accommodate to his size, but that second of kindness was short lived, and the man gripped your hips bruisingly, pulling out slowly, so that you could feel every ridge and vein, before diving back into your centre with long and harsh rut.

You cried out loudly, hands gripping his shoulders as Aemond began to fuck into you at a brutal pace, not once slowing as his length bullied every inch of your walls. The kitchen was filled with the sound of his hips clapping against yours, the lewd slick wet of your folds and the moans and whines that dripped from your lips like honey. 

It was nothing like you had ever felt before. 

Where Cregan was large, Aemond was larger, longer in length that reached deeper and further than the other man, each thrust caused blooming pleasure to shoot up into your gut, warmth winding down your limbs. 

You gripped the back of Aemond’s head and pulled him down, biting at his lips and kissing him angrily, still all teeth and spite, pouring your frustration into him with every nip or press of your lips against his despite the pleasure he was bringing you.

One hand left your hip and gripped the back of your neck, fingers winding into the hair at the nape of your neck tightly, before squeezing the sides of your neck, little bits of pain sprinkling down your spine as he held you forcefully. 

Aemond broke away from the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours as he looked down to watch where you were joined. The entire length of his cock was slick with your arousal, pooling between your cheeks and the kitchen bench below, dripping down to his sack. 

You had never been so wet in your life. 

Oh Gods.

“Fuck, fuck.” You keened, hands gripping his shoulders so tightly you were sure it would bruise, nails digging into his skin, leaving tiny half moons in his flesh, as you felt the coil within wind embarrassingly quick.

Aemond grunted, “You gonna cum?”

You nodded your head shakily, motion stunted with his grip at the back of your neck.

“Good. Want to feel you cumming on my cock. Fuck.”

Your knuckles ached from how you were holding onto him, and with each sharp and fast thrust, Aemond’s tip bullied your g-spot, sparks of pleasure exploding behind your eyes, your release barrelling towards you so quickly it was just within reach.

“So fucking tight.” Aemond panted, “Such a perfect little pussy. Fuck, such a good girl.”

You sighed dreamily at the praise, walls gripping him tightly. 

Aemond hissed, “You like that, huh? You like being my good girl? Being such a good girl for daddy, taking his cock so well.” Aemond sucked in another hiss, “Look at you.”

Your bit your lip and hummed, eyes half hooded in lust as you tilted your hips forward towards him, your peak beginning to take over.

“There you go, good girl. Good girl, cum on my cock, come on. Fuck. So pretty.” He praised you, thrusts becoming more brutal, “You’re so fucking pretty, little pussy stretched out on my cock. Looking so fucking pretty like that.”

You moaned needle, whimpering as his length buried into you unforgivingly, “You like daddy’s cock, baby? Huh? Yeah you do.”

His words crashed over you, core fluttering around him as you dumbly nodded your head at him, small mewls and ‘yes’’ falling from your lips with ease. 

“Be a good girl and cum on daddy’s cock.” Fingers began to swirl on your bud, dragging you dangerously close to the edge, “Come on baby, I know you can do it, can feel you getting so tight.”

Your moans grew loudly, pants and sobs falling from your lips as Aemond continued to thrust into your soaked core, finger swirling roughly on you to drag you closer to climax, “Such a pretty dumb little baby, aren’t you? Want you to fucking soak me.” 

Pleasure exploded within you, winding up your body powerfully as you shook in his grip, Aemond’s hips stuttering slightly as he fucked you through your release, a long and high pitched moan being ripped from your chest. 

“Fuck, good girl. Cum on daddy’s cock. Fuck you feel so good, fuck.” Your walls clenched around him, feeling each drag of his length against your sensitive walls, “There you are, such a good baby, such a pretty little girl aren’t you?”

Aemond rutted into your heat furiously, chasing his own peak, pace becoming sloppier as his stomach tensed, muscles rippling up his chest and down his back, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” 

Aemond’s thrusts stuttered, “Where- Where-“

You blinked up at him, eyelids heavy, “Inside me. Please daddy.”

Aemond’s hips stuttered, “Fuck, gonna fill this pretty little pussy.” He thrust inside rapidly, prolonging your pleasure as breathless mewls were ripped out of you. 

Aemond bent over you, brows furrowing as his lips parted, panting as he reached his peak, a ragged moan falling from his lips as he pushed to his limit inside of you, warmth filling you as his thick ropes of his seed coated your walls. 

You breathed heavily beneath him, core clenching around his length in aftershocks as you felt him fill you up. Tingles spread through you as you both came down from your highs, your body feeling like it was floating. 

You gazed up at him through your lashes. Aemond’s head was tilted down, plump reddened lips slightly parted with his seeing eye shut. His long white lashes fluttering against his cheek as he breathed. 

Your chest clenched as you looked at him. 

Fuck. 

He is so pretty.

The pink of his tongue came out to wet is lips as he looked back up at you, a small smile winding on his face, “You ok?”

You nodded sluggishly, feeling the hand at the back of your neck loosen its grip, smoothing the muscle in soft circles that made your eyes slip shut. Aemond continued for a moment longer before moving his hand to the side of your face, brushing the hair that had fallen across your cheeks and forehead away from your face soothingly. 

You hummed quietly and leant your face in his palm, calloused fingers cupping your cheek as he moved to press a soft kiss against your lips. You squirmed under his touch, heat blooming inside of you again as your walls clamped down on him. Aemond chuckled into your mouth, pulling away to press another kiss on your cheek. 

“You did good, baby. So good.” He praised you, and you felt heat flood your cheeks as you looked at him, warmth spreading across your chest and want coursing through you. You smiled up at him shyly, keening, pressing a kiss into his palm. 

Large hands skated down your arms as you felt the buzz of your release, Aemond cock still twitching inside of you as your mind felt hazy. Aemond kneaded your ass in his hands as he pulled you closer to him, his length pressing snugly against your cervix. 

In one swift movement he lifted you up into his arms, a small squeak breaking from your lips as he turned your around and carried you to your bedroom, cock still nestled inside of you. Each step caused his tip to press into you, pleasure simmering through you. You shifted and wriggled in his hold the entire time. 

Aemond hissed as he opened your bedroom door, dragging his hips back to pull out of you. You immediately felt empty and whined at the loss, feeling a trickle of warmth escape your core and into the crux of your thighs. Aemond hushed you as he bent down, lowering you to the bed. 

A feeling of anxiety prickled in your chest as he stood to his full height. 

He was going to leave again. 

And then he was going to be an asshole to you once more. 

How could you be so stupid, how could-

“I'll be right back.” Aemond reassured you, bending down to press a kiss atop your head, leaving your room. 

You heard the linen closet open and close, and then the soft hum of water in the bathroom running. You waited anxiously, shifting on the bed as you felt a trickle of his cum and the warmth of your own release begin to leak from you.

Aemond returned to your room in no time, face cloth in hand. He made his way over to you slowly, looking down at you on the bed. “Lay back.” He said quietly, air of dominance still around him though softer this time.

You obeyed, and laid down against the plush of the pillows on your bed, feeling exhaustion begin to wind its way up inside of you. Limbs feeling like lead and body buzzing with the warmth fo your peak.

Aemond pressed the warm wet cloth between your thighs, cleaning you of your combined releases that lay sticky and slick to your inner thighs. He was careful to not press too hard, wary of your sensitivity, and once he was done, he chucked the cloth into your laundry basket, tucking you beneath the sheets.

He stood to leave the room, but your hand reached out to grab his wrist. You caught him just barely, fingers gathering the grip to hold him to you. His skin was warm, and he looked down at you slowly, the softness of his face gone, and the cool mask you had grown to know slipping in place.

“Stay.” You whispered into the dark of the room.

Aemond shifted, your thumb rubbing against his inner wrist softly, soothingly, trying to tempt him to hold you.

“I can’t.” Came his quiet response, so very quiet in the already still room, the sounds of the city having faded away.

“Why?”

His head ducked down, pressing a kiss against your hair line, “Shh. Rest.”

“But-“

“-Rest. You need to sleep.”

You swallowed thickly, the pit in your gut sinking further, but the way he was looking at you was uncertain. Like a skittish animal ready to take flight, as though he was reserving something within, and it all showed in his violet eye.

“You’ve been good, so good. Now get some sleep, you have work in the morning.”

You didn’t have it within you to fight him, to battle it or argue, and so with a nod of your head, you slid further beneath the sheets, releasing the grip on his hand. You watched as he turned to walk out of the room, hand from the wrist you had grabbed flexing outwardly before he shut the door quietly behind him.

-

When you woke that morning you had expected to see him, having woken up earlier than usual in the hopes of catching him before he moved to his instinctual and habitual run. But Aemond had woken far earlier that morning, and you had to tell yourself to not let your heart skip the way it did when you noticed his absence.

As you dressed and readied for work, and moved to the kitchen as you always did, there it was. 

Your steaming mug of tea. 

Ready to be drunk by you, and made by the man you still did not quite understand perfectly. 

It was as if every time he even let a brick of his walls down, he would put them back up, and install reinforcements. As though he struggled to let anyone in, or feared to. You had chalked it up to his upbringing with the strange dynamic that was the Hightower/Targaryen family, or perhaps there was more to what had happened with him and Alys.

The day went slowly as you had expected it to do, and by the time you had gotten home, Aemond was there, loose shirt and baggy pants, bent over the stove as he cooked dinner. His music, as usual, played loudly in the kitchen, what had surprised you however was the familiar tune of Lana Del Rey’s - Shades Of Cool playing through your speaker. 

Huh. 

You didn’t take him as a Lana fan.

You greeted him from behind cautiously, careful to not startle the man from running away from you again. He had turned slowly, as though he had anticipated your arrival, no doubt by the time you finished work and got home as per usual, creature of weekly habit you were, and had given you a small but kind smile.

You sidled up beside him as he cooked, and told him about your day, and he had told you bare footnotes about his. Aemond had apparently discovered a new bookstore that day, and you had made him promise to take you soon.

It was odd. 

The air around you was charged but neither of you acted upon it, or pointed out, the both of you all too eager to let it extend for the time that it was there. Aemond did not push you away, and you did not push him to anger.

You ate dinner together, watching television, the tension ripe with the elephant in the room, but neither one of you broached on the topic of what had happened the night before, or how the dynamic between the two of you had clearly shifted.

When dinner was over, you had helped him to pack the dishwasher and insisted on him sitting on the couch and to wait for you. You dug into the back of the freezer where your favourite ice cream tub sat, and pulled two large spoons from the drawer. 

“Here.” You handed him a spoon, sitting beside him on the couch, closer than usual, hips and thighs connected and a smile on your face. 

Aemond took the spoon and looked at the tub, watching as you took the lid off and chucked it on the coffee table in front of you, curling your legs up beneath you and offering him the first scoop. He scooped a generous spoon and dipped it into his mouth, humming as his tongue curled to lick the remainder of the icecream off of the spoon. You licked your lips subtly, shifting in your seat. 

Gods damn him. 

“It's good.” He mused, dipping another spoon in, “Probably one of my favourites.”

“Really?” Your heart raced in your chest, “Mine too. I have to hide it in the back of the fridge when Helaena gets high. She will demolish the whole tub in seconds if you blink.” You giggled at the memory of smoking with your best friend, going to shower, and coming back to her on the couch with an empty tub of ice cream.

“Sounds like Hel.” Aemond chuckled.

You leant against him for the remainder of the night, watching tv, tub of ice cream finished between the two of you, sticky spoons stuck against the coffee tables surface, forgotten. At one point his arm had lifted and tucked over your shoulder, pulling you further into his side.

Your heart raced at first, stomach doing flips, but soon you settled into it, head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, his scent curling around you warmly. It was nice to not be bickering, to see him let one of his many walls down for however long it would last. 

But as usual, nothing lasts forever. 

Because as you were tucked to his side, the softness of his fingers skating over your skin, you could not help but think of what this meant. 

What this was. 

What it would be.

With Cregan it was cut dry, there was no lingering feelings there anymore on either side, and it felt normal, comfortable, but your heart didn’t race if he held your hand, or kissed the side of your face, and it certainly didn’t race when he would cuddle up to watch a movie with you and Hel. 

With Cregan it was simple. But Aemond? That was something else. Your heart did race when he touched you, and right now, you prayed to the Gods that he couldn’t hear it beating like a drum in your chest.

But it wasn’t just the small touches, it was his proximity too. When he would reach over your head in the kitchen to grab something from the cupboard. When he would sit just that smidge closer to you on the couch. How he had been so near to you in the kitchen as you fought.

Because no matter what he did, whether he was being quiet, or brooding, or snarky, or his rarer and more fleeting moments of kindness, your heart would race. Your cheeks would heat and this warmth in your gut would settle heavily. And it was then that you knew you were fucked.

You didn’t know what to do, his hand on your arm, stroking up and down softly making your mind run a million miles an hour. 

Did you ask what this was?

What you were?

Surely he felt what you felt. It was different. It was more. There was more to this than something casual, more to this than some convenient fuck of your best friends brother. Because there was danger to this, a risk that you had both taken. There was things that you could both loose from this. Losses that mounted higher with each moment you sat together in silence.

You had only fucked once, almost twice if you counted the first time in the kitchen. So why did it already feel like something more?

Sitting in your questions, you felt Aemond shift, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Your heart leapt into your throat. 

“It’s getting late. I’m going to go to bed.” He told you, removing his arm from you as he stood up. You watched him give you a controlled and small smile, clipped at the corners of his mouth, before he moved to walk away, disappearing down the hall and into his room with a click of his door. 

But it was the way that he smiled at you that settled an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. It felt like he was separating himself from you again. And so you went after him, jumping up from your seat to follow him down the hall, opening his door to see him already sitting on the edge of his bed head in his hands.

His face lifted, looking straight at you as you stood in the doorway, shifting from one foot to the other. His head cocked to the side, brows slightly furrowing as you looked at him, gnawing at your lip as you fought for the words to say.

“Last night-“ You began, twisting your hands together at your front.

“-Was a mistake, I know.”

You blinked, swallowing dryly. 

What?

“A mistake?” You furrowed your brows.

Aemond’s mask slid back into place, cold gaze looking up are you as he spoke, “We shouldn’t have done that. You’re Helaena’s best friend. It was wrong of me.”

It felt as though he had slid a dagger between your ribs, “Why?”

“Because it’s not going to work out the way you think.”

He was pushing you away again.

“And what way do I think it will work out?” 

“That this will be more than what it was.”

You blanched, “What?” Irritation began to spoil in your gut. 

Why did he always do this? Why did he always get these reactions from you? 

“I can’t give you what you want.”

“Do you think I expect flowers and declarations of love after that?” The words felt bitter on your tongue, heart aching in your chest, battling the tears in your eyes, “I was under no illusion that it would be more.”

Aemond’s brows raised in a mocking way, lips pulled down into a frown, “Are you sure?”

Anger soared through you, “Fuck you, you arrogant prick.”

“See,” A long hand lazily flicked up at you, “You’re already hurt. I didn’t want this.”

Didn’t want this.

You sniffed, “It’s because you’re being a complete fucking asshole.”

The silver haired man pushed an irritated tongue into his cheek as he shifted on the bed, turning his entire body towards you and sneered, “And what do you want me to do? You knew who I was when you fucked me. Did you think you could get my cock wet and I would change? Be a better man? Be the man who Cregan can’t be for you?”

Your mouth gaped, shock spreading across your chest, “Don’t bring him into this. He has nothing to do with this.”

Aemond scoffed loudly, rolling his eye up to the ceiling, “You don’t think that your boy toy loves you? Have you seen the way he looks at you? You’re dragging him along for a ride whilst you fuck me on the side.”

“What me and Cregan do is none of your fucking business. And you’re the one to talk, what about Alys? Are you not dragging me along on the side?”

“Don’t.”

The air in the room went icy.

But the heat and anger inside pushed you forward, “So, what? You can bring up Cregan but I can’t bring up her? Tit for tat, Aemond.” You spat.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Anger exploded within, “And neither do you! You have been so incredibly rude to Cregan, who has given you nothing but the benefit of the doubt and kindness that you certainly don’t deserve. You know he even told me to be nicer to you. You?!” You watched as Aemond frowned, “You are the most judgemental man I have ever fucking met. You sulk in your room all day or on runs, take cheap shots at everyone around you when they even try to be nice to you, and make it almost impossible for anyone to like you.”

The sneer fell from Aemond’s lips, “I don’t need anyone to like me.”

You sighed, “That's your problem, Aemond! You’re isolating yourself for no other reason than that you’re afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.”

You took a step towards him, watching as he looked you over warily, “Yes you are. You’re afraid to let anyone get close to you. What happened to you as a kid-“

“-What do you know about what happened to me?” The sneer was back.

Fuck.

“Nothing! That’s the point. You don’t let anyone in, but I’m trying to be your friend.”

“I don’t need friends.”

A pang of sadness spread across your chest, “Everyone needs friends.” You shook your head sadly, “Aemond, I’m not doing this with you again. I can’t keep doing this when all you do is push me away. It’s like fighting with a brick wall and it’s hurting me more than its being productive. I’m trying to be nice to you, I want to be your friend, Aemond. But if you don’t want to accept that people can be nice to you, that I can be nice to you, then that’s something you need to work through alone.”

Aemond’s back straightened on the bed, as though he was about to stand, but shook his head instead, pushing his hands into the mattress as though to keep him there, “You don’t really like me. You just want to fuck me to make Cregan jealous.”

You frowned, “Is that all you think this is?”

Silence.

Your chest clenched sadly.

You sighed, “Goodnight, Aemond. I really hope that you think about this before you go to sleep, because I can’t keep doing this with you.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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Bold is who I cannot tag

[clayderogatory]

"Under the Red Light of the Crimson Moon."

a/n note: happy spooky season! since the poll received so much positive attention and many yes-es...i decided to write this! it will be posted on my ao3 after as well! also this playlist was very much my vibe im going for so if you like music while reading, this one is perfect! also, this is a VERY plot heavy and descriptive fic as well. warning, this fic does have dark content, if that is not for you, i do not suggest reading! This will also be a multipart series/multi chapter fic!

pairing: vampire!leon kennedy x gn!reader.

word count: 7.2k

tags: mystery, last name already established, graphic depiction of death, corpses, blood, language, heavy mentions of religion, romanticism, neck biting, alcohol use, mentions of other resident evil characters, no smut!

description: you are a doctor/researcher who gets sent to the eerie town of Hythe to investigate and help the strange deaths of the townsfolk. soon, you hear talk of the strange manor upon the hill to the north, and you decide to investigate.

━━━━━━━━━━━━⊱⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⊰━━━━━━━━━━━━

The town of Hythe was certainly one of much mystery, certainly even from the townsfolk there. The place was always described as eerie, where something was always off. Many people were ill quite frequently, and many were mysteriously killed by an unknown source. With many letters sent and through your curiosity being piqued, you had ultimately decided to see what was all the trouble. The train ride there had been rather pleasant, mainly through the blissful and tranquil countryside of Europe. It had been a wonderful sight to see, the thick green trees whose branches spread to the sun and it's radiant rays, the soft green grass across the plains that would hastily pass by, and the occasional cottages that you would see with families tending to their little farms—it was all rather charming. It truly made you wonder what could be so wrong?

When you arrived at the town of Hythe, that was when it all clicked in your mind. You stepped off the train to a town that was particularly and overly gloomy. The roads and houses were primarily made of stone and dark wood, and while lit oil lamps were filed along the slightly cracked streets—the air was thick and filled with the scent of death and decay. You scrunched your nose at the horrid smell that entered your nostrils, “It smells like shit..” A mumble escaped your lips as you tried your best to not breathe in more of the air around you. You walked through the dark town, the dark and grey clouds above hid away the warm and bright rays of the sun, to which it left the area seemingly forlorn. The townspeople were no better, anyone that was shuffling by were pale and thin. You assumed no one had seen the comforts of the sun in years, as you shifted glances with the townsfolk who just so happened to pass by you. They had seemed rather intrigued and quite curious by your presence in the town of Hythe—after all—no one ever willingly visited this place.

Luckily, you had the ability to stay at the nicest inn the town could offer. After all, with a well paying job such as yours, you could afford more than the average person could in this economy. You had carried your personal bags made of the richest full grain leathers—a generous gift from your father when you were entering your career as a doctor and a researcher. In an alleyway, you had heard the sobbings of a woman and two children, clad in all black, as they tragically wept over the corpse of what you assumed as her now dead husband. An elder priest accompanied them as well, he was saying his deepest prayers along with the family and praying that the man’s soul would be guided to heaven to rest in God’s safe embrace.

You could only watch with a sense of pity as you took notice of the body itself. The corpse seemed fresher, as if it happened the night before you arrived. The muscles were all stiff as the man’s face was contorted into a pale, and horrified expression. The man looked petrifyingly angular, as if someone had suctioned up much of the muscle mass in his body. The horrible odor filled through the air and unfortunately right into your nostrils as your face turned to one of pure disgust. No matter how long you had been in the medical field, you never had much of a tolerance for the dead. The one thing that stuck out to you the most was a large and uninviting bite mark along where the man’s jugular vein would be. The blood had been dried to a rustic red color and part of his cream colored—now stained in a dried crimson—shirt ripped apart to reach the man’s neck. Whoever would…or even could do such a thing like this?

You decided to investigate further as you carefully and slowly stepped closer, the smell was absolutely putrid, but you could manage to keep moving for the sake of your own curiosity and personal research. You had pulled out a small leatherback notebook and a writing utensil out of your coat pocket as you politely cleared your throat to grab their attention. “My deepest apologies during this time…but I could not help but notice this predicament before me…would it be alright to inquire about what may have happened?” You asked sweetly and kindly, after all, the family seemed to be heavily distraught from the traumatic sight before them. No one could blame them for feeling that way, of course.

“He..he left last night for a drink at the t..tavern…and he..he didn't come home! He was only thirty eight…” The woman exclaimed as her tears kept falling from her bloodshot and tired eyes. “And he was found in this state?” You replied and went to walk over to observe the body yourself. “Indeed…my dearest Simon..” She whispered as you kneeled down to have a better look. Judging by the state of decomposition, it seemed to be around one in the morning that he was killed, with how it was now an early eight in the morning. “It was most certainly a homicide…that is too odd of a puncture wound to inflict on oneself…” You spoke in a soft and hushed tone—almost to yourself even.

You lightly traced your hand just barely above the wound, not enough to touch—but you were certainly focused on it. The wound was unlike anything you have ever seen, it was almost too neat for it to have been any sort of weapon. There was no gunpowder or scorch marks on his cold and dead skin, so it couldn't possibly have been a pistol—or any gun for that matter. Hell, you didn't even know if they constructed bullets that thin. A knife certainly had too thick a blade, the wound would have instantly killed someone in the particular area as well. It would have left too jagged a cut as well, with the flesh being more torn into and creating a larger opening than what was presented before you. The man would have suffered more bloodloss in that particular case as well, and it wasn’t quite the case here—considering how there were only a few streams of leftover blood that had previously oozed and dripped down from his sternum and farther down his exposed chest. The marks that were left behind, equally parallel to one another, were so precise and thin…and yet, so intimidating to look at. “Excuse me…if I may ask who you are?” The priest questioned you as you were finally snapped out of one of just many of your investigative trances.

You had turned to the Priest once more before getting your thoughts together once more, “Dr. Coulston…although, you could just call me [Name].” You spoke calmly, regardless of there being a corpse right next to you. The priest’s light and stormy grey eyes lit up with the hint of familiarity, “Ah…you must be the doctor we have sent for.” They all had disregarded the decaying corpse for a moment to greet you. “I am this town’s main priest, Osmund Saddler.” He introduced himself as you gave a generous bow. “I truly thank you for your kindness, Father.” You formally addressed the man as you straightened your posture once more. “If I may ask…have there been many deaths much like this one?” You had opened your small notebook after asking and awaiting an answer to note down on the sheets of paper made from the finest wood pulp. “Indeed…it is the work of the Devil himself! I sense his presence around these corpses, may their souls be guided to Heaven…” Saddler had exclaimed and made a small motion of the cross with his hands. You hastily wrote everything you possibly could while he spoke, and also the details of the actual body itself.

Middle aged man, thirty eight years old. Name was Simon. Expression twisted into one of horror. Estimated time of death, 1:00-1:30 in the morning. Fatal wound of two precise and thin puncture wounds to the jugular vein. The body looks extremely thin, very unhealthily. The body was found in an alleyway just a few meters from the train station to the town of Hythe. Deaths like this are increasingly common, according to Father Osmund Saddler.

“May he rest in peace…” You clasped your hands together and uttered but a small prayer for all the families whose loved ones perished in such a grotesque way. Once you had rested your arms and opened your eyes once more, everything seemed to have calmed down more. “One more question…is there anyone here that could provide more information on these murders?” You inquired as what seemed to be some townsfolk hired by a funeral home started filing in to claim the body to prepare it to be embalmed and buried. “There is one you could try…he frequents the town square quite often. His name is Chris Redfield.” Saddler suggested as you wrote down his name and the place. “Thank you very much.” Your lips curved upwards into a smile as Saddler returned the gesture. “Of course, I hope to see you soon, Doctor.” It was after that where everyone had started to go their own separate ways, and you headed to the inn so you could book your room and leave your bags there. It wasn’t too much of a walk from your previous stance, and it was on the wealthier side of the town. You had walked along the stony paths of the streets, the low, but sturdy heels of your leather shoes making a soft clack with every step you took. You looked around the town to gather some needed insight for the town that you would be staying in for some time now.

There weren’t many shops on the outside, everything was indoors and secure. You assumed it was from the amount of murder along the streets of the town. Anyone that was even outside regardless looked awfully frightened. You could hear their hushed whispers to one another, their gossipings, all about the man’s corpse you have just seen with your own two eyes. News seemed to spread around quickly in this town, although they probably had nothing else better to do with their lives. Just waiting to see who will be struck dead in the thick and dreadful cold of the night! You quietly hummed to yourself at the thought, it would make quite the mystery novel—you held onto that idea in your mind for later usage.

After you had lived in your own psyche and wandered around for but a moment, you reached the inn. It was at the least a little more welcoming than the rest of the town. It also had some stunning views of the mountains much further away in the distant landscape of the area. Through the windows of the inn, you could see the warmer and more comforting candlelight coming from indoors. It provided at least a small sense of security that most of the town very clearly didn't provide with its natural gloom. You gently opened the door and with a grunt, you hauled your bags into the entrance. There was a small golden bell that gave a cheerful jingle as you walked in. As you did, the bell provided the innkeeper the sense that someone had entered. She stood behind a wooden desk with a damp rag in her hands to clean.

“Welcome! How may I assist you?” She gave a warm smile as she placed the rag in a small compartment underneath the now cleaned, polished, hardwood table she stood behind. She had her slightly reddish–brown hair up in a messy ponytail, some of her hair falling onto her pale face that adorned icy blue eyes. She wore her work uniform that was just plain and simple, a red dress with puffed sleeves and a white lace at the ends. There was an ivory white ribbon upon the bust of her dress. She wore a faded dusty pink apron as well, but one eye-catching detail you had noticed was a sterling silver necklace she wore with the charm being a silver feather with a deep blue sapphire near the tip of the quill. You walked up to the counter and placed your bags down next to you with a small sigh escaping your lips. “I will need a room to stay in…for..quite a while. I was asked to come here in regards to the investigation of the murders.” You replied and put your hand upon the freshly polished wooden countertop. “Ah! Everyone in town has been talking about you…thank you for helping us, really.” She gave a pleasant smile before turning around to get a small room key for you. “Of course…and if it is no trouble..would you happen to know anything about these murders that have been rampant?” You had pulled your small leatherback notebook and writing utensil out once more in the hopes that she would know something.

“Well…my older brother has been looking into it a bit. He has told me it always happens in the complete dead of night. Every victim perishes the exact same…may God have mercy on their souls..” A soft sigh escaped her lips as you wrote everything she said down onto the parchment paper of your notebook. “And who is your brother?” You looked up for a brief moment, your eyes laced with that desire to know more. “Chris…Chris Redfield. I’m his sister, Claire.” She introduced herself and placed a key on the desk. Your eyes glimmered at your recognition of the name she spoke of. “I have indeed heard of him…do you know wherever he may be currently?” You wrote down her name next to his, and wrote a little margin note saying they were siblings. “Hm…I couldn’t say as of right now..but he has told me he was going to investigate the strange manor upon the hill to the north of town at some point.” Claire responded to your inquiry and leaned forwards against the countertop. It was a little improper, but you paid it no mind as you wrote down that important detail as well. “Manor? What is strange about it? Why is your brother going to investigate it?” You rapidly questioned, one after the other. Claire had to take a small pause to be able to properly answer your questions.

“Well…the manor has been there for..who knows how long? This village has been around for centuries…that manor along with it. It’s very rare to spot someone ever going inside or out…but one time..I did see a young man enter back inside. I couldn’t make out much of what he looked like…but he had a sort of dirty blonde hair from what I can remember. Regardless...my brother is a constable. He’s been on this investigation as well…he was the one that sent the letter to you.” Claire explained with a hand resting upon her soft, rosy cheek. You had checked your notes thus far.

Chris Redfield and Claire Redfield—siblings. Chris is a constable. Manor on the hill to the north, no one really comes in or out often. Young man with dirty blonde hair spotted once while going inside.

“I see…I thank you kindly.” You slowly nodded your head at Claire as she gave you the key to your room. “Of course! Name please?” She got out her own sheet of parchment paper to note down that the room would be occupied. “Dr. [Name] Coulston.” You replied as Claire nodded to herself as clarification and wrote down everything she needed. “Alright! We will charge you at the end of your stay.” She smiled and put the paper and fountain pen to the side. “And the room is the second door on the right!” She quickly added as you started to carry all of your possessions once more.

You had hauled your bags and items to the door, second from the right—you had remembered, and you opened the wooden door with the small key Claire had given you. The inside of the room was simple, but it was quite comfortable. There was a window to your left that gave you the same stunning views from when you first saw the building. The mountains that surrounded the town truly were a sight to behold, along with the thick forests at the feet of every mountain. Inside of the room was a queen sized bed to your right hand side, a rich mahogany nightstand next to it as well. Atop of it was a silver tray with a fresh box of matches to the side and a few candles with its silver candle holder. Next to the nightstand was a door that led to a small and private bathroom, as well as there being a few bookshelves filled with all kinds of books, a mahogany desk, a few nice portraits hanging around, a large vanity mirror hanging from the wall, and a fireplace that was currently unlit. You had placed your bags down at the foot of the bed and hung your coat on a coat hanger that you just noticed was beside the door. You then just took a moment to just lay down. So much had happened within the past one to two hours that you felt nearly exhausted. You decided that a nice nap would surely do you justice as you got comfortable and your eyes naturally closed on their own to drift into a comfortable slumber.

When you had finally awoken, it was night already. You didn’t even know you could potentially sleep that long—but the train ride had been quite long and you dealt with the whole mystery of the corpses and finding people. It all made your head spin from the stress, but you had a responsibility to solve it all. You slowly arose from the bed with a groan and a stretch, you could feel and hear the snapping of your bones as you felt the ability to move around without a soreness once more. You had ultimately decided to do some more investigation in the night, for you may have had the chance to catch the culprit whilst in the act! You had taken your coat from where you had previously hung it earlier and you slipped it back on. Then it was proceeded by fixing your hair to look a little more presentable than when you had woken up, and from one of your bags—you had pulled out a dagger of your own. If there was a chance that someone would try to go after you, you wanted to be ready at any given moment—and certainly considering the way of how these innocent people were being murdered, you knew you had to be wary and prepared for anything that could happen.

You picked up your satchel and filled it with some essentials. A first aid kit, small snacks for the road,and some stored money. There was always one person who would hide what he knew behind some sort of paywall—or if you needed something for dinner. Once you had personally felt ready, you slipped your shoes back on and left your cozy inn room for the unsuspecting mystery of the town of Hythe. When you had slipped out, as if the town already wasn’t overtly depressing, at night? It felt terrifying. You quietly wandered the streets on your own, the only sources of light coming from the scarce few of the oil lightposts on the sides of the street. The only thing you could hear were the clacks of your heels with each step on the cobblestone streets. You tried to keep your composure, the dread now finally kicking in as you could feel your body tremble from paranoia. You checked a few alleyways, and only finding complete darkness enveloping the space. You had turned your head towards the opposite way of the last alley you looked into, before you found a cold hand grabbing you by the waist and dragging you into that shadowy crevice of the alleyway. A scream escaped your mouth as your body was suddenly pressed up against another, with a complete absence of any warmth at all.

“A new face, hm?” You noticed it was a man’s voice, and from what you could gather, he had a seemingly Spanish accent. “It’s been forever since someone new came around..” He whispered as you felt his hot breath right where your jugular vein would be. You struggled in his grasp with quiet grunts, “Let…go of..me!” You cried out as you stomped on his foot with all your might and escaped from his hold as he howled in pain. “Mierda…” He cursed as he tried lunging for you again, to which you narrowly escaped with a yelp. “Get away from me!” You yelled and managed to get steady on your feet once more, dagger in hand. “Feisty, eh? So typical of humans..” He muttered as he ran up to you and managed to trap you once again, you struggled as he pinned you up against the wall and opened his mouth to seemingly bite you. His canine teeth were much larger than the normal person’s, and his eyes glowed red in the darkness that enveloped your bodies. You couldn’t make out any other defining features as your heart felt it would jump right out of your chest from how fast it was beating. Thump, thump, thump—it was all you heard as his teeth advanced closer, and you just thought it would be the end. You braced for an impact that never came, for when he was just about to dig his teeth into your neck, you heard the sound of a bullet being fired directly into his shoulder. He cried out in pain as he let go and tightly gripped onto the side of his shoulder where a crimson red blood was flowing down his arm. You looked over and saw a quite large and burly man from outside the alleyway holding up a now recently fired rifle. “Get away from them!” He yelled as the man who attacked you frowned with displeasure and dissipeared into the night once more.

You panted for your breath as the adrenaline from being in a near death experience, your mind felt hazy and your senses amplified tenfold. You had no idea what had just happened, and when you had just got back to your senses, you saw the man who saved you standing in front of you. “Are you alright? You aren’t injured, are you?” He asked and offered a hand for you. “No…I-I’m alright..” You stammered quietly as you were slowly calming down from the events that just transpired. “I truly thank you for saving me…I thought I would have died there for sure..” You whispered as the man in front of you nodded in response. “These have been happening all over town…thank God I found you before you were injured.” He gave a hearty smile that you couldn’t help smiling back from his friendly demeanor. “Right…what’s your name?” You asked as you both started walking out of the alleyway and back onto the cobblestone street. “Chris…Chris Redfield.” He stated as your eyes widened, you were lucky enough to find everyone related to one another. “Oh! Yes..yes I was going to look for you! I needed your help on investigating…all of this..although it did just happen..” You rambled a bit before continuing, “I met your sister, Claire..at the inn. And earlier this morning Father Saddler mentioned you after I first came across a corpse who suffered a similar fate as to everyone else.” You finished talking as the both of you walked along the street together. “I see…thank you for taking the time to investigate this issue as well. It’s been happening for…years now at this rate.” Chris looked to you as he replied. “I’ve come to the conclusion that…we may be dealing with a larger threat than I may have thought.”

“And what may it be?” You asked and looked to Chris for his answer. He seemed slightly uneasy at the idea of it, but it came out in a hushed tone of his voice, “Vampirism.” You were familiar with the concept, there were always those extremely paranoid of the sort. Garlic, stakes to the heart—you had heard it all, for it actually to truly exist? The thought was utterly terrifying, especially considering the fact that you had just been potentially attacked by one just but a few moments ago. “V-vampirism? Surely you jest…” You stammered, your voice so utterly uneasy from the idea. Chris shook his head in response as the two of you kept walking down the street, and you truly felt your throat constrict in a bout of nervousness and fear. “As much as I wish I was wrong…considering the events we have just witnessed..and the events that have been occurring..I fear it may be the only answer.” He spoke quietly as a somber mood fell over the two of you like a blanket draped over a bed. “Then what are we to do? They will keep harming innocent people…” You whispered as your brain tried to wrack itself for any sort of clue or answer, obviously they had to find some sort of compromise—but it wasn’t like you exactly knew the general nature of vampires.

“Do you think they live in the manor on the hill?” You inquired as the two of you continued to stroll with one another, Chris pursed his lips and put a hand to his chin. “It’s probable…” He replied as a thought seemed to appear in your head. He could tell by the way your expression changed, “No, you seriously cannot be thinking about going there!” His voice was raised a little as you looked back up to meet his eyes. “I could be able to try to talk with them! Maybe we could reach a compromise…” You suggested the idea as it made Chris a little distressed at the idea. “Vampires are dangerous, Doctor. We don’t know what to expect from them…” He replied and put a hand to yours with concern, you could only sigh in response as you looked away to your right before making eye contact once more. “Chris, if we treat them with hostility, they would only show it back. Let me try to make things right..because I do want to help this town..innocent people shouldn’t have to die.”

“If you say so…but you better stay safe..but know if they try anything, I’ll have to step in.” You nodded at his conditions, “I agree to your terms then.” You both carefully walked back to the inn, but for a moment as you walked, you exchanged glances with another man that had walked by. You noticed a brief red glow from his eyes and what looked to be blonde hair. His clothing was particularly formal, although it was hard to make out due to the dark colors of it blending in with the shadows of the night, but you immediately whipped your head back to looking in front of you with a small gasp escaping your lips. Chris looked at you concerningly for a brief moment as he decided to say nothing as the two of you made it back to the inn once again. Claire was still behind the desk as it seemed she was tidying up the place, at the jingle of the door opening, she looked up and noticed the two of them walking in. “Chris! [Name]! What are you two doing out so late in the night?” She walked out from behind the desk, took off her apron, and placed on the front desk before she made her way over to the both of you. “I had gone out to investigate the pressing issue at hand—” You had started before Chris had finished your sentence, “Along the way, they were attacked by one of the perpetrators. A vampire.”

Claire’s icy blue eyes went wide with the statements as she almost couldn’t figure out what to say. “A..a vampire? Truly?” She stammered as you and Chris nodded your heads in sync. “Chris saved me from one…and then..as we were walking back..I swore I saw another.” Your voice gradually decrescendoed as you spoke, for it grew quieter with every word that came from your lips. “Another?” Claire asked with shock as you managed a solemn nod. “Indeed…he had this blondish hair and his eyes were tinted as this..this crimson red. I could swear they glowed..” You recalled from only a few moments prior to now. “Well…let us all be eternally grateful that everyone is unharmed..it is late in the night, dear. You should head to bed and get some rest..” Claire put a gentle hand on your shoulder with a comforting look. “Indeed. We could rendezvous in the morning with some breakfast and tea to discuss what we shall do moving forwards.” Chris agreed as everyone decided to part ways for the night and wait for morning to speak on such issues. Of course, you weren’t as tired as the other two as you recorded your experiences down into your notebook so that it wouldn’t potentially be lost in your vast memory.

In an alleyway of Hythe, not particularly far from the inn, a vampire attacked at around ten-o-clock at night. Noticeable characteristics were crimson red eyes, large fangs at the canine teeth and slightly smaller fangs where they would meet at the premolars. The vampire that attacked had a smooth Spanish accent, more akin to that of Spain and not of South America origin. The second vampire I had seen while walking was not hostile towards me or Chris Redfield, but he had the same crimson red eyes but his hair distinctly blonde and he had dressed like a gentleman.

You had placed your fountain pen back down after closing it shut after writing. There was a lot to report, but it would provide useful later on. Afterwards, you had taken a relaxing warm bath to calm your nerves and to relax you enough to be able to sleep through the night. You dressed into your nightclothes before slipping into bed and drawing the covers over your body as you lulled into a gentle and peaceful slumber once again.

When you had awoken at around eight in the morning the next day, the outside was still just as gloomy as the day before. Even if it had all felt like an odd dream, you vividly remembered everything that had happened prior. The corpse in the alleyway, the attack, excetera. You had risen out of bed to dress yourself once more as you slipped on your coat lastly. You were going to meet Claire and Chris out for breakfast in the inn, since there was a small dining hall that was in the inn as well. You had stepped out of your room after getting ready for the day as you had now just recently met up with the siblings once more, the fresh smell of warm tea and pastries filling into your nostrils and somehow calming any nerves you may have had. “Good morning, you two.” You had spoken politely as you sat down across from them. “Good morning! How did you sleep?” Claire asked as she took a bite into a small cream puff she had made that morning. “I slept well enough…although..everything from last night is still on my mind.” You replied as Claire poured you a cup of warm chamomile tea. “Mine as well…at least we know who is behind all of this..the only question is how are we going to prevent it from happening again?” Chris responded as he took a quick sip of tea after speaking. “Well…I did say I would try to talk with them..” You responded as they both looked to you as if you were crazy. “Talk with them?! Doctor..I am not sure that is the best idea..especially after one already attacked you!” Claire exclaimed before Chris put a hand up to signal to calm down. “It’s the best we can do…it’s hard enough to try and kill them as it is.” He responded as his sister huffed.

“Oh alright…just..stay safe, [Name].” Claire looked at you with a hint of worry in her expression, but there wasn’t much else you could do. You were willing to make the sacrifice to help the others in need here in the village, and who knows? Maybe you would learn more in the process, and as a reasearcher, you always loved to accumilate more and more knowledge about the world around you. “I was planning to head over to the manor after breakfast…all I know about vampires are what people say about them. Although you can never truly believe everything you hear…” You had taken another sip of your tea and a bite of a warm cinnamon roll. “I do not believe they are regarded as very kind..but I am not sure. We only have the encounter from the other night to go off of.” Chris strirred his tea and drank the rest of it before setting the cup down. “The one who attacked me last night certainly wasn’t very nice…” You mumbled before finishing your breakfast and standing back up afterwards. “Thank you very much for the meal…it was truly delicious, Claire.” You gave a soft smile in her direction and dusted off your coat with. “Of course..please stay safe…vampires may be unpredictable..although it really is all a mystery.” She whispered and went to clean some plates up. “Of course..thank you both for everything..” Your lips curved into a smile again as you gave your final goodbyes before going back to your room, grabbing your satchel yet again, and leaving to go to the manor. You walked along the roads of the town again, you even peered into many of the alleyways to find if there were any corpses in them, but to your surprise, there weren’t any at all.

You had asked around to see if anyone knew where to find the manor, and they all gave a similar answer of following the main road north until you see the hill. So you had listened to their advice, and with every step—every clack of your heel on the cobblestone tiles only heightening your anxiety as you reached the edge of the town, and you spotted the manor upon the hill. There was a bit of a misty fog around as you walked up the path to the manor itself, the path was of dirt as you walked along it warily. There were many trees along the path that had obscured some of your view, but you ultimately pressed ahead. The one thing that you did notice the closer you got to the entrance, was the abundance of multiple types of red flowers in the front. Although the main ones you could make out were some beautiful near maroon roses and an assortment of brightly colored red poppies. It was fitting now that you knew of their true identities, but to say that they weren’t beautiful would be a lie.

You had climbed up the steps to the grand front door of the manor, it was a little intimidating as you gently took one of the door handles and used it to knock on the door precisely three times. There was only silence as you waited for a response, nothing thus far—so you knocked again. Three times, but with a bit more power to them. Your first justification was if they didn’t hear your previous knocks, your second justification was if the myth of vampires being nocturnal was really true, and your third justification was that perhaps no one was home. “Hello? Is anyone home?” You called out quite loudly as you couldn’t even peer in through a nearby window. All of them were covered by maroon curtain drapes from the inside, so there was no luck there. You had sighed and thought to just wait, and as you turned on your heel to leave, you heard the creak of the door behind you opening which made you flinch slightly and hastily turn around. When you had done so, you had locked eyes with the same man who walked past you yesterday night. You could see him a lot more clearly, he had those same red eyes—albiet not glowing anymore, a dirty blond hair that was short in the back but a little long in the front, considerably pale skinned with faint red blemishes, and a rather muscular look to him that was shrowded by his previous clothes. Of course now he was a bit less formal, with only a frilled off white shirt that had showed part of his chest, and high waisted black pants with some gold detailing down the sides.

“...may I help you?” He finally spoke as his eyes nearly pierced your very soul with how intimidating they were. You had nervously chuckled and cleared your throat as you tried to keep your ground and your mind level headed. "Good morning, sir...if I could just have a moment of your time—" You had started before he cut you off, "I have no time for such insignificant nonsense." You blinked a little awkwardly as he tried closing the door before you sprung forwards. "Wait! Wait...please, I truly mean no harm..I just wished..to ask a few questions is all." He stared at you in thought before wordlessly opening the door further for you. You quietly thanked him as you walked into the manor and looked around.

There were candles everywhere, and all of them were lit to make up for the lack of natural lighting from the outdoors. Blacks, reds, and golds were certainly an abundance as the color palate of choice for decoration. Everything looked a little outdated than what was considered normal at the time, and some things looked seemingly medieval, which had further intrigued you. Paintings filled the rooms upon the walls and many of them were a bit eerie to say the least. The blonde haired man led you to the drawing room where he sat down on a couch and motioned for you to sit on the one across from him, which you did so with grace.

"Thank you for the invitation, sir. There were just a few questions I would like to ask of you or anyone else that lives in this home. Could I have a name?" You pulled out your notebook and writing utensil once again and flipped to an open page. "...Leon. Leon Kennedy." He replied as you both firmly shook hands, his grip being a little tighter than yours. "And you will not find the others here at this hour," He simply stated and crossed his arms. "They are on...business."

"...business?"

"Business."

You blinked a few times and noted that down as you nodded your head slowly. "Right...and..what type of business...might I ask..?" Your words were slowly paced, you couldn't help but not believe what he was saying to an extent. "It is information I cannot tell you, my sincerest condolences." You had written that down too. "Alright...well, if I may switch our topic a little..do you know about the recent murders here in Hythe?" You curiously inquired with your eyes glinting with that desire of knowledge. To hear the perspective of someone more on the outskirts of town and who may have been one in on them in the first place certainly intrigued you. "Well...yes, I have. They have caused a bit of commotion here." Leon nodded. "Indeed they have...would you happen to know anything on why they are happening?"

Leon visibly went stiff as he tried to think of something to say to that question. "Ah..well...I do know..some..." He meticulously chose his words carefully as you nodded. "Do tell then, I am all ears."

"It would be considered blasphemous...I doubt you would believe me." Leon murmured as his red eyes looked down a little sullenly. "I can assure you..I will hear out anything you are willing to say." You gave a sweet and affirming smile as he nodded and thought out what he desired to say. "Well...would you believe me if I said we weren't quite..human?" Leon whispered just loud enough for you to hear him. "I could get behind the idea...do continue." You replied calmly as he nodded. "Well...we are..vampires. Everyone in this manor. We don't mean to intentionally kill..it is the only way we can feed..and we have so little that even just a drop of blood causes us to..spiral." He confessed honestly as you wrote it all down without even looking at the paper.

"So I see..my theory was correct then..how did you all arrive here then?" You asked as Leon crossed his legs. "Well...I suppose we have been here longer. This manor is..quite old." He blinked a few times and scratched his chin. Many of his answers were a bit short lived, you had noticed. At least you were getting them, so you couldn't complain too much. "Intriguing..." You whispered and nodded. "Could I have the names of the others who do reside here?" His lips curved into a prominent frown as he stared at you. "Why is that necessary? Are you from the Church?" He got a little defensive as you straightened your back out of nervousness. "No! Not at all...I am just a researcher and a doctor. I came here of my own volition."

"How am I to know that you are not a liar?" Leon stood up and towered over you, his muscular frame intimidating you further. "You will have to trust my word..please. I truly mean no harm!" You stood up afterwards to try and get on an even playing field. He scoffed and looked to you with an unconvincing expression. "Well, I know one thing. Humans are liars, and how could I let one go after knowing quite the secret?" You gulped a little and backed up when he walked near you. "I.." You couldn't get a statement out as your arm was then grabbed by him at some supernatural speed.

"It seems we will have some new company here for quite some time." He smirked a little as he could practically hear your heart pounding and the blood rushing through your veins as you stood there in fear.

Unfortunately for you, your already precarious situation had just gotten a whole lot worse.

━━━━━━━━━━━━⊱⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⊰━━━━━━━━━━━━

thank you all for reading!! there will be more parts after this and this is (again) posted on my ao3 if you want to leave a kudo/comment! thank you for reading! :)

[arafilez]

☆ ⼂ LOVE, TAILORED ﹗one

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜[ fashion designer khj x ceo fem!reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤfluff, crack, e2l 𓏧 for the company assets you have to work with solo designer kim hongjoong. even if it meant him annoying you at every step. ㅤ warnings flirting ㅤ﹢ㅤ2.1k wc ꔫㅤㅤ ❜part one . two . three

Headstrong. Calm. Organised.

This is how you are described everywhere you step foot in. Wearing a Chanel dress, Louis Vuitton handbag and Balenciaga shoes you made sure you are an icon wherever you step, and that typical red-lipped smile in every camera that is ready to capture you.

You aren’t afraid to show you are made from money. And of money too. Yes, you got the company from your father. But under you the company grew bigger, made overseas branches and had more affiliations with other companies.

Your father trusted you enough to hand it over to you on your twenty-fourth birthday. And by your twenty-sixth birthday, you proved to be one of the best CEOs among all leading companies worldwide.

Known among your workers for a bright smile, kind heart and nice behaviour you are never anyone’s bad example. Your working style is organised and you are always calm, strict when only there is an absolute need to be.

So why are you now holding your secretary cum best friend Park Seonghwa by the collar against your table?

Seonghwa’s eyes bulge looking at your fuming face while he tries to explain, “Calm down, he isn’t that bad.”

Leaving his collar, you stand back as you watch Seonghwa fix his tie and shirt which was wrinkled by you. You scoff lightly and look at him saying, “Not bad? Of course, he isn’t bad, he is just simply terrible.”

“How do you even know that? You haven’t worked with him yet” Seonghwa retorts as you roll your eyes.

“Yes,” you breathe, "but I have seen him on numerous shows. And he is the most arrogant, self-absorbed bit- I mean person I have ever seen. It is clear from his attitude."

The thing is, your company is about modelling. And though you do have your own fashion designers, Kim Hongjoong has a great influence on the world. He has no company behind him though. His bold fashion statements which he made alone and his dressing sense earned numerous applause from everywhere. At the mere age of twenty-seven, he can easily be called one of the most successful solo acts in the world.

“Look you understand right? How big this will be on the market? Kim Hongjoong is a self-made fashion designer. Collaborating with him will increase your company assets. And besides you know how people’s on-screen and off-screen personalities are different,” Seonghwa explains as you keep quiet.

Maybe he is right, maybe Kim Hongjoong isn’t such a person as he has built his image to be. You sigh quietly as you take your pen and sign into the contract paper, handing it over to Seonghwa.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

The cool November breeze hits your face as you see a black car stop and Kim Hongjoong getting out of it.

As soon as Kim Hongjoong enters your building you can feel the aura changing. He has a confident strut, holding a coffee in one hand and a black file in another. His body is covered by a black overcoat, simple light-blue jeans and a black silk shirt.

And you can say he makes it work.

You stand quietly at the entrance of your building in a black pantsuit with a black coat hanging loosely over your shoulders. But you feel extremely underdressed as you see the man and gasp a bit visibly but gain your composure back in seconds, a professional smile etching your face.

After the initial introduction, you shake hands with him as multiple reporters take photos before you head inside the building, ignoring the cries of the reporters. Seonghwa walks behind you and Hongjoong and reaching the elevator he presses the buttons while you stand there patiently waiting for it.

It feels calm, too calm for its own good, before Hongjoong leans in slowly and whispers to your ear, “Oh Darling, the reporters might not have noticed but I clearly saw you gawking at me.”

Your breath hitches in your throat feeling his face so close to you, face heating up as he stands up straight again casually and you try to process what just happened. His warm breath lingers in your ears as you take a deep breath trying to calm yourself.

And then you scoff lightly. You were absolutely right.

And Seonghwa was wrong.

Kim Hongjoong is a total jerk and you know it right then and there.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

You let him enter your office as Hongjoong’s eyes scan the room in a boring manner. You feel judged and that makes you glare at him from behind until Seonghwa nudges you and you look away.

Good lord, he has two-toned hair, what is this even? Why is one part of his hair black and the other white? You want to make a snarky remark so bad about it, especially after the elevator incident but you keep quiet.

Being a jerk is not how you deal with a jerk.

Seonghwa’s voice cuts your thoughts saying, “Mr. Kim, please take a seat.” Hongjoong simply nods before sitting down on the sofa as you sit down on the opposite side.

You cleared your throat lightly before nodding your head to the file and Seonghwa walked over to bring it.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Kim,” you say politely as he finally looks up and meets your eyes. “Yeah, nice to meet you too,” he replies before looking back at the file again.

You try your best to not gasp in disbelief. Seriously, like he can’t even say a greeting properly. You jerk in shock as Seonghwa’s hand touches your shoulder as he slips the file in between your hands whispering a quick “good luck” before leaving the room.

You sigh quietly before addressing Hongjoong and say, “Mr. Kim I believe we need to start worki-“ and immediately get interrupted by him saying, “Can you loosen up a bit?”

“What?” you stare at him as he makes himself comfortable leaning back on the sofa. “I said loosen up a little, what’s with all this uptight behaviour?” Hongjoong smiles as you roll your eyes visibly.

“In case you have forgotten Mr. Kim, I am a CEO. So yes I like things organised and I am not uptight, I am professional, unlike well,” you say laughing lightly, “you.”

“Damn you really are uptight, I used to think that was all for T.V,” Hongjoong says eyes boring into yours as you bite back a snarky remark.

Be professional. Do the business for the two months collaboration and then it will be over. You can deal with him for two months. You can.

“Anyways, I think we can plan this out-“ and again you get interrupted by Hongjoong saying, “Plan? Fashion needs no planning! It is all about spontaneity and with someone as uptight as you I can’t possibly do any work, darling.”

“Do not call me that, Kim Hongjoong,” you snap as he smirks, “Oh, leaving all formalities so soon?” he teases as you purse your lips. God this man is insufferable.

“Look, we need to work together for two months, and I want to make this work, Mr Kim, so please cooperate,” you try to make him listen as he finally gives in.

“Yeah alright, we can start with your plan now, but when we start real work we will follow my work ethic,” Hongjoong says as you mouth opens wide. You tilt your head slightly before opening your own file. This is some progress and you are willing to take it. Time was ticking away.

He nods at everything and much to your dismay never takes any notes but you don’t call him out as it will result in another pointless argument. After everything is done you close the file looking up at him as he keeps his eyes trained on his hands thinking something.

After a moment of silence, he gets up suddenly and extends his hand as you look back cautiously but shake it anyway. You voice out, “Pleasure doing business with you Mr. Kim.” You see him smirking lightly and you wait for what remark he is about to make.

“Pleasure doing business with you too darling,” he replies in a honey-laced voice as you shoot daggers at his back glaring at him.

This time you were wrong.

You cannot possibly work for two months with this man.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

It has been a week since Hongjoong came here. He had wanted a week to design the dresses in his copy before showing them to you. You had happily granted him the week, the less you see of him, the better.

Now, Hongjoong is late- by twenty minutes. Your patience is decreasing with each passing second and you warily look at Seonghwa who just gives you a sympathetic smile. You curse Hongjoong in your mind but soon enough your door swings open as you abruptly sit up.

Hongjoong walks in and Seonghwa takes his leave as you stare at him.

“Ah yes, your eyes will be blessed if you stare like that,” Hongjoong says smirking as you look away scoffing. The audacity of this man- first, twenty minutes late, second, has no decency of mere knocking, third, thinking you are swooning over him.

“I am not swooning over you Kim,” you snap before realising what you called him and your eyes widen.

“I did not say you were swooning, did I? Darling?” he smiles in an innocent manner that just makes your blood boil. God why is he so insufferable.

You dismiss his comment and hate at the same time how your ears grow warm at the mention of the pet name that he probably calls everybody.

But then again he was free of scandals, to the point where people thought he was asexual.

You scolded your mind for thinking of unnecessary details before delving into work.

“You know what? Just show me which designs you have made. We are already behind schedule,” you sighed as you cocked his eyebrows at you.

“You and your schedule, didn’t I tell you fashion is all about spontaneity?” Hongjoong says lightly and your eyes bore into him. “Yeah well be all spontaneous as you want, I am not the fashion designer here,” you comment as Hongjoong shrugs.

He hands you the file as you flip through the pages. You awe at the designs because they have impeccable style and every one was unique in its own way. As much as you hate Hongjoong you cannot not underestimate his talent at these.

Your eyes get stuck in a drawing of a dress which has flowers as the design. It was so beautiful you almost wish he made it specifically for you.

Keyword- almost!

“Well looks like Miss Schedule is speechless now,” Hongjoong’s cocky voice makes you glare at him as you slide back the file. Goddamn, he just had to ruin the fine moment you were having with the dress.

“I will just come right out and say it- your designs are impeccable,” you smile pausing and then saying, “but you are very fucking annoying,” you smirk satisfactorily as his face changes from confident to surprise.

“Well that was some smooth-talking, wasn’t it darling?” he gains back his composure within seconds and you fume saying, “Don’t call me that.”

He smiles cheekily before getting up and walking towards the door. You groan in your hands quietly before getting up whisper-shouting, “Kim wait up, you have to meet the models.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

Meeting the models was a fairly easy process. Hongjoong asked for their proportions which Seonghwa promptly handed him over in a big copy.

You stood at the door quietly scoffing every time the models tried to flirt with him and he gave a deaf year to them. Where were people’s dignity nowadays?

After meeting with the models you are now walking with Hongjoong to show him his working area. Seonghwa leaves to get to some other work and you are now left alone with him again. The walk down the hallway was pretty quiet as Hongjoong looked around observing everything inside the building.

You quietly open the door to the lavish working room as he looks around and nods. You stand there patiently as he checks the drawers and sewing area. You now realise why he doesn’t take on any big projects, he has no workers and does all of this himself.

The tenacity he has is admirable. Only if he didn’t have such a big mouth.

He hums in satisfaction and turns towards you as you cock your eyebrows. “So do I get a schedule for this too? Maybe a binder?” he challenges as you roll your eyes.

“Just get along with your work Kim,” you replied gritting your teeth.

“Sure darling,” he grins and you turn on your heels to leave. The less time you are in the same room as him, the better.

“Did he just call you, darling?” you jump at the voice behind you as soon as you leave the room.

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤidea credit to @iwishiwasrichasfuck. banner made by @/DathanHamen in wattpad. idk if i can bring the story to life. but i genuinely am trying my best ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerr @tunaasan @stellarlune-love @jeonghanfr @soocore @chaotic-floral @loveateezㅤmain mlistㅤ atz listㅤ navi ㅤtaglist

© arafilez on tumblr. please don't copy and repost my work as your own.

[thewriterg]

𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐬

pairing(s); tate langdon x gn!reader

summary; you loved your boyfriend with all of your heart but sometimes you needed a break, what you didn’t expect to find on your walk was an all black fur-ball with a high pitched voice —flufftober day;8—

word count; 500+

warning(s); hint of a previous argument, cat distribution system choosing reader, cat parents, fluff, pet names, and language

playlist; I was cold beside you by hanging garden

A/n:—GIFs; @evanpetersxx & @plushie-bl0g— short and sweet today

You sighed at the chilling air around you foggy water vapor spilling from your lips as you walked along the sidewalk the sun beginning to set a few stray leaves falling from branches of different trees your head full, thoughts brimming

Your journey of staring at nothing striding on the concrete was interrupted as a squeaky whine was traveled to your ears registering to your brain quickly moving your head around to try and spot the noise as it continued to purr and whine

“Come out baby” You spoke a low whistle resting on your lips as you quickly clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth eyes still darting around for the animal and suddenly there was a movement from a trash bin a black kitten erupting from behind it it fur thick and short looking a red leaf on top of it head covering its eyes and you pouted at the adorable sight

“Look at you” You whispered bending down to pick up the the small cat that was a little larger than the size of your hand as you plucked the leaf from its body its big pupils staring back at you as it meowed relentlessly

“Okay shhhh, you have a motor in their?” You chuckled softly rocking the feline in your hold and there was no doubt that you were taking it home you yourself found it hard not to shiver in your thick jacket so you couldn’t even imagine leaving a small kitten out to nipping winds at night so without another though you put the black ball of fur into your pocket making sure it’s head was stuck out to be allowed oxygen before heading back home

💌💌💌💌

Tate sat on your bed his knee bouncing up and down rapidly as he waited for you to make it back to your room having heard you enter through the front door his head perking up when your bedroom door swung open before quickly shutting as you made shushing sounds with your mouth

The blonde was immediately up ready to confess his apology to you but what he didn’t expect was for you to be cradling a infant cat in your hands as it squeaked out high pitched ‘meows’

“I saw him on the sidewalk I knew it would get cold tonight” You hummed not taking your eyes off the ball of pitch black while Tate moved to stand behind you peering over your shoulder at the fluffy animal

“You could hold him” You whispered after a moment darting your eyes over your shoulder as the blonde contemplated not having the best experience with animals as you reassured him giving him the push he needed before he gently grabbed the kitten from your hands smiling at you when there was no complaints from the feline while it gently nibbled on his fingers using its paws for it to stay in place when he tried to gently wean it away and you giggled at the sight

“Who would’ve ever known we’d be cat parents?” You sighed watching the purring infant become more energetic as its body warmed up and Tate liked the sound of being a feline parent

as long as it was with you

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[blu3-ja3]

Basically Task Force 141 gets to have a little branching team; Task Force Stalker AKA Ghosts Team. Because I say so! I want to give Cod Ghosts some love and nothing will stop me from doing so!

Captain O'Connor gets to actually be a Captain???

This is Part 1, all my previous posts are kinda intertwined but this is kinda the start of my actual story so enjoy!

COD Master List

O'Connor tried to find free time to go out for drinks with Nila, she truly did try but time wasn't on O'Connor's side it seemed. After recovering the information they needed as well as the rest of the team, O'Connor wasn't given a break. With Price on desk duty until he recovers, O'Connor is the commanding officer for the 141.

On top of that O'Connor learns she is in charge of her own squad, Lieutenant Keegan, Sergeants Hesh, Ajax, and Logan are officially a part of the 141 and O'Connor is their captain not the second captain... Not Price's team that she is a part of. They're her team, she's their CO and it scares her more than ever. She was given assurance that O'Connor would still be part of the 141 and so would her boys.

As soon as they were back at their own base; Echo Point, both The 41 Company and Task Force 141 were sent out into the field. Gaz, Roach, and Soap were sent out on a reconnaissance mission for Laswell. Nila and her team were sent out as well on another rescue mission. The first two days O'Conner was getting better acquainted with her team.

She ran drills with them, read through files, spared with them and watched at the firing range. While O'Connor wasn't new to being a captain it felt different having her own squad. Where as before with Price she was second in command. Price's word trumped her at the end of the day no matter how much he treated her as an equal. She was the 2nd Captain, but with Task Forse: Stalker her word dictated all. And that worries her more than she'd like to admit.

She was in her room cleaning her glock when Ghost popped his masked head in after knocking. O'Connor looked up from her work and smiled at the still injured and recovering man as he spoke.

"Price needs you in the briefing room," O'Connor's heart sank into her stomach.

After finishing her task and reassembling her gun, O'Connor quickly moved towards the briefing room. Upon entering O'Connor spots the rest of Stalker there waiting. Quickly moving in she nods to them before finding a seat, Price begins as soon as O'Connor readies her pen.

The mission is simple. From the intel gathered from their most recent mission, they've learned of R.U.N.'s (Russian Ultranationalist) next course of action. They have narrowed down Makarov's location to three black sight prisons. They're planning to infiltrate as prison guards and use the information gathered.

Stalker is going to prevent that from happening... Makarov is being moved to a different black sight, one in Mexico. Alejandro and Rudolfo are going to be on the outside helping but O'Connor's team will be posing as guards alongside the prison warden.

Stalker's main goal is to make sure the hand off of Makarov goes smoothly and he's properly incarcerated. They're to leave as soon as possible. Before O'Connor leaves she stops by Price's office.

"How do you do it?" O'Connor stood in front of his desk, fully geared and ready to depart.

"What?" Price looks up from the mountain of back logged paperwork he's now forced to catch up on.

"Keep so calm... When one order could be the end for them?" O'Connor tries to not let her anxiety show but knows Price can read her like a book.

"Truthfully I'm panicking all the time Maeve, but I have to have confidence in myself and my team. You're a good leader Maevis, if you weren't you wouldn't be here." Price smiles at her before waving her out.

O'Connor nods before leaving, arriving at the landing pad a little before her team. O'Connor situates herself in the small boeing they're riding in before reading more in depth about their mission. Not looking up but greeting all the arrivals of her team, Keegan being the last one to arrive. As they're taking off O'Connor finishes her reading.

This mission feels half baked and O'Connor hates it. They're to leave their equipment behind in order to wear the uniforms of prison, they're provided locks for their left behind equipment like that would do anything of value. There's a small note from Price mentioning that Nikoli's contract will be getting them a bag to store their kits but they won't have their armor or heavy weapons. Only side arms and knives, again it feels half baked.

"So Cap what's the plan?" Hesh asks, O'Connor is again struck by the fact that her whole team is american.

"First who can speak Spanish?" Keegan and Ajax raise their hands, Logan gives a slight hand wiggle.

"Who can speak Russian?" No one raises a hand, O'Connor rubs her temples a bit trying her best to figure out how best to do this.

"Alright lads, here's the plan. We'll be touching down in about 3 hours, we'll be at a secondary sight that is temporarily holding Makarov. We'll be landing in Greenland before flying over Canada and America, Once over the Texas Mexico border we will land and take an armored truck into Mexico. We'll be meeting with our contact and he'll be our guide." O'Connor hands Keegan her tablet, it's displaying the information she read through already.

"Read through and then pass it, you should all be aware of the man we're dealing with." O'Connor sits down and goes about double checking her gear. They fly and land in Greenland after an hour transit, O'Connor taking the lead as she approaches the figures waiting for them.

"Commander Yuri, a pleasure to meet you!" O'Connor reaches out a hand, an offering.

"The pleasure is mine Captain O'Connor, Nikoli speaks of you fondly!" The man shakes O'Connor's hand before guiding them into the facility.

O'Connor sticks close to her team as she follows Yuri, she keeps her pace just fast enough to maintain a good spacing between the two. Yuri leads them into a room with lockers in it.

"Your uniforms and requested equipment for this little ruse, I will leave you to get changed. Once ready find me in the next room." Yuri leaves through a door opposite the one they entered through. O'Connor retrieved the five locks Price provided. She grabs her gear from the locker and quickly changes before replacing her equipment in the locker.

"Does anyone else feel like this is a trap?" Ajax asks, hesitation visible under his masked face.

"We have to trust Yuri at least, if this goes tits up I will have a nice long conversation with Nikoli regarding his contacts." O'Connor grabs what she can from her kit and tosses it into the empty medical bag she was provided. There's still plenty of room so O'Connor approaches the rest of the team and instructs them to place their kits inside. All four of them placed their masks into a pocket on the uniforms.

"You'll be able to mask up once we land in Mexico, there's half masks you can wear for now..." O'Connor watched as both Ajax and Keegan adjusted the half balaclavas.

Reattaching her glock 17 to her hip, O'Connor moves towards the door. She waits as the rest of Stalker gets into gear, locking away their personal kevlar vests, and following behind her. She looks at each of them silently asking for confirmation which she gets from all four men.

O'Connor opens the door and steps into a small room, Yuri is in a similar outfit to theirs and is waiting next to the man O'Connor assumes is the warden. The three exchange a few words in Russian, O'Connor learning much more since her first brush with Wolf and Demetrius.

The warden guilds the group through multiple security measures before leading them to a locked metal door. There is only a small sliding viewing window and small slot to put food trays on. The warden opens the window, ordering the prisoner to stand facing the back.

After a moment the warden opens the door and enters. After a few minutes a man stumbles out, hand and feet shackled. Makarov is positioned between everyone with the warden leading.

They pass through the prison out back out towards the landing pad they were on previously. A small cargo helicopter is waiting, O'Connor couldn't see the transport they arrived on. But O'Connor wasn't too concerned and followed the group up.

O'Connor was sat across from Makarov. The man kept trying to talk with Yuri and Keegan for about an hour, both of whom ignored the man's Russian sitting next to them. Keegan likely not from understanding when he spoke Russian and not caring when he spoke english. He turned towards O'Connor after another hour or so of flying in silence. In russian the man begins speaking towards her.

"I recognize you," Makarov smiles at O'Connor. She nods staring above Makarov's head.

"Yes! I know you from somewhere," O'Connor looks towards Yuri who has a slight confused expression.

"You're not from the prison... I know all the nurses who would be assigned to me," O'Connor looks towards the warden who has moved from the front of the co-piolet seat towards the back.

"She's a new hire Makarov, leave her alone." The warden barked in russian, O'Connor can feel Makarov's eyes on her.

"I don't think she is... No I've seen her elsewhere..."

O'Connor turns to meet the man's intense stare, Makarov smiles at her when they make eye contact. A sick smile similar to the one she often saw on Demetrius. O'Connor can feel her heart rate spiking, her palms start sweating.

"Yes, it was in a video. I think one of the nurses showed me, maybe 6 months ago?" O'Connor took a deep breath trying to calm down.

"I know why I didn't recognize you! You're not pale and turning blue!" Makarov laughs and O'Connor feels sick to her stomach.

"It's very nice to meet you finally, Lamb..."

O'Connor freezes, her heart pounding in her ears as she looks at Makarov. She can't breathe, like that rope was wrapped around her throat again. She couldn't hear anyone over the ringing in her ears as tears began to fall from her eyes.

"What do you mean? How do you know about that!?" O'Connor's voice cracks as she looks at him again and the same smile was plastered on his face.

"Oh Lamb do you not know? There are lovely videos of you with Sergey and Demetrius!" O'Connor begins to breathe faster as her vision begins to blur, tunneling into black.

O'Connor jumps slightly when she feels a hand on her shoulder, she looks up at Keegan. He helps her stand and they walk to the back cargo bay standing next to the armored transport van. O'Connor can hear Yuri and the warden dealing with Makarov.

"Hey! What the fuck was that Captain? You good?" Keegan still has a hand on O'Connor's shoulder.

O'Connor closed her eyes trying to focus on her breathing. Her heart is pounding loudly in her ears, Keegan turns her to look at him. Her mind is racing with a million thoughts.

"You've got to calm down, you're giving him exactly what he wants right now Cap!" Keegan was a bit harsh causing O'Connor to flinch a bit. That knocks her back onto her feet so to speak, she'll deal with all this after the mission

O'Connor turned to see her team looking at her as well as Yuri. O'Connor turned back around, took a deep breath and wiped away the lingering tears. She turned back to see the warden standing with his back to the cockpit through the opening.

The two of them move back to their seats and ride out the remainder of the trip in relative silence. Once they began to land O'Connor moved to the back of the carrier as she would be the one driving the humvee they brought, much to her dismay and hatred. Keegan offers to at least get the van out of the carrier so O'Connor could meet with Alejandro and Rudolfo.

The back of the cargo bay lowers and O'Connor walks down as Yuri and the warden deal with Makarov. The rest of Stalker follows behind O'Connor as Keegan drives the armored van out. O'Connor sees the two familiar figures of Alejandro and Rudy standing to the side with several of the Los Vaqueros.

"Ah! Senora O'Connor! It's nice to see you again!" O'Connor approaches being pulled into a hug by Alejandro once she was close enough to the man

"How's she cuttin' Al? Rudy keeping you out of trouble?" O'Connor smiles at Rudy shaking his hand.

"Always Doc, Al is always finding trouble," O'Connor waves towards the familiar Vaqueros who she met the last time she was in Las Almas. Alejandro switches to spanish knowing well that O'Connor could speak and understand the language.

"So who's the new pretty boys? Are they all fans of the lieutenant?" Alejandro gestures to the men behind O'Connor.

"These are my men and amenity isn't solely a Ghost thing Alejandro." O'Connor smiles replying in spanish.

"He thinks we're pretty Captain!" Ajax slings an arm over both Hesh and Logan as they walk up.

"Americans?" Rudy asks looking towards O'Connor. O'Connor nods.

"Colonel Alejandro, Sergeant Major Rudolfo. Meet Task Force: Stalker: Lieutenant Keegan, Sergeant Major Ajax, Sergeant Logan and Sergeant Hesh. My team..." O'Connor pointed each of the men in tandem with their name and rank.

"Ah! So you're now in Price's shoes, aye?" Alejandro smiles as Rudy laughs. O'Connor gives the nod before going over the planned order for their convoy.

It's a few hour drive to their destination, O'Connor was driving with Keegan next to her in the passenger seat. Makarov is chained in the back with the rest of the team in the back next to him. Alejandro's truck is in front of them and there's another truck behind them. They're approaching a canyon, O'Connor slows a bit before radioing to Alejandro.

"Colonel are you sure this is the only way through?" O'Connor looks towards Keegan who gave her a concerned look, one that she mirrored.

"Sorry Doc there isn't another way through, but my men are patrolling the ridges..." O'Connor grips the wheel tighter, before tapping the gas to continue forwards.

"Cap if you grip the wheel any tighter you'll rip it off," O'Connor takes a deep breath before loosening her grip.

"Wait Colonel there's a problem, none of the vaqueros posted on the ridges are responding," O'Connor fully stops the vehicle at that, no longer slowly cruising forwards.

"What? Are you sure it's not interference Rudy?" Keegan looks at O'Connor once he notices they're stopping.

"Yes I'm sure, it's not the usual problems. There is nothing being received or transmitted, Al." O'Connor puts the van in park before speaking into her radio.

"Rudolfo, is there a way up onto the ridges?" Keegan nods seemingly catching onto O'Connor's idea, if a bit vaguely.

"Yes ma'am we'll be diving past the ladders once we enter the ridge, why?" O'Connor gets out of the vehicle moving quickly towards the back telling Keegan to follow her.

"Because me and the lieutenant are going to scout ahead," O'Connor opens the back doors before grabbing the medical bag with their kits, thankfully Alejandro loaned her team some kevlar vests and plates. This entire mission has been half assed since step one and O'Connor is really not happy with it.

"Whose going to drive then?" O'Connor begins to move towards the passenger side after points toward Yuri and the warden to move upfront.

"It's handled, Alejandro can we borrow two of your men's rifles?" O'Connor moves up towards Alejandro's armored humvee before grabbing onto the side.

"This is getting dangerously close to war crime territory Senora O'Connor," Rudy was using the voice he used on Alejandro to suggest an idea was a bad one. O'Connor, much like Alejandro most times, ignores the suggestion.

"Ramirez and Sanchez will give you theirs, mi amiga." O'Connor hops off as they approach the canyon opening, turning back to retrieve the AR rifle she's being handed. Keegan follows right behind her, also fully kitted now.

"Thank you amigo," O'Connor begins to approach the latter.

"Wait!" Rudy sighs before getting out of Alejandro's passenger and running towards O'Connor and Keegan.

"Since we're doing this let's be smart about it yes? Our radios can only relay so far before it's useless." Rudy starts digging into a side pouch on his vest.

"Uses these to single us forwards, there are four towers stationed near turns in the canyon." He pulls out two small hand mirrors and gives them to O'Connor and Keegan.

"When you get into one use the mirror to signal us forwards, we'll move in increments... Hopefully nothing goes wrong, good luck," O'Connor gave him a nod before climbing the ladder up, Keegan following close behind...

Part 2 >

This is kinda the official start to my cod au, I hope people enjoyed it!

[novankenn]

Jaune Arc of Orleans

Words of Woe Tidings

Jaune found himself walking through a quiet forest. The air was still, but cool. The foliage surrounding him was vibrant shades of green. Jaune had been in this place before. Many times in fact. It was here that he conversed with the Light. This was a place of reverence to Jaune. A sanctuary from the harsh realities of his reality.

He continued to walk through the glade, following a well worn foot path, that cut through the mossy undergrowth. There was no sound. Not the buzz of insects nor the chirp of birds. Not even the rustle of leaves in a soft breeze. No there was only peaceful grave like silence.

Jaune never could fathom the distances he would traverse in this place. Sometimes he was but a couple steps from the clearing. Other times, much like this it felt as if he had been walking for minutes if not hours. Yet, like always he entered the small clearing, and at the nexus of multiple worn walking trails it sat.

A stone chair, much like how a throne would be depicted in fantasy artwork. It's glossy black surface speckled with flecks of white. It resembled a discarded fragment of the night sky. However this time, unlike the others the Light was not seated upon it. In fact there was no sign of that ethereal being, within the confines of the clearing.

Jaune was confused and concerned. Never in any of his travels to this sacred place had this happened. Never had he ever been in the clearing alone. The rustle of leaves and the snap of branches startled Jaune, causing him to whip about and look behind himself.

His eyes grew wide as he stumbled backwards the color draining from his terror twisted face. It was a massive creature of ink-like flesh, blazing violent red eyes, and bleached bone colored plates. It's great maw was open, displaying fouled dagger like teeth, a twisting sinuous tongue and dripping viscus drool.

The creature stepped from edge of the clearing into full view, and Jaune's body collapsed to the ground, all his strength having fled him. It stalked forward, it's great hooved feet crushing the vibrant grass into the dirt.

Jaune wanted to scream. He wanted to cry for help, but his voice was trapped with in his dry throat. Completely helpless he watched as the abomination closed upon him.

Jaune noticed a blur of motion out of the corner of his right eye. A fraction of a moment later an equally as tall, but not nearly as massive being of golden light slammed into the monster's side. The massive antlers forming a regal crown upon its head. Jaune knew who if was... there was no doubt. The Light had come to save him.

Still unable to use his voice Jaune just watched as a pitched battle ensued between the the Light and the monstruous beast. A fist composed of golden light slammed into the creature's jaw filling the air with the sound of snapping bone, followed by an agonized howl. Yet still the beast fought. Curved claws of bone slash and racked the air, narrowly missing the Light, as it ducked and weaved around the brutally powerful strikes.

The Light ducked to the side, under a wild slash of the creature's claws, and locked its sleek but powerful arms about the beast's neck. Jaune swallowed as corded muscles flexed, the abomination squealed in rage and pain, then fell silent. Jaune found some of his strength returning and quickly climbed to his knees and bowed low before the being of gold.

"The darkness even now still tries to invade my sanctuary." the Light spoke its voice sounding like the light chiming of bells. "Are you well, Jaune?"

"I am, thank you for saving me, my Lord."

"I would be indeed a poor host if I were to allow harm to befall those who I invite to refuge. Look upon me, Jaune."

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Flesh of shadows, armor of bone, and eyes a burning red approach you." the Light spoke, his featureless face aimed directly at Jaune.

"Are we going to be attacked?" Jaune asked.

"Awaken Jaune, darkness encroaches..."

"My Lord?"

"Awaken Jaune, death approaches..."

"My Lord, I..."

"Awaken Jaune, awaken..." the Light passed one of its great hands past Jaune's face.

Jaune's eyes snapped open and he bolted to seating upon his bed. He was drenched in sweat, and gasping for breath.

==> Table of Contents <==

[contemplatingoutlander]

Worried by Florida’s history standards? Check out its new dictionary!

As always, Alexandra Petri is spot on in satirizing the right-wing censorship and educational nonsense happening in Florida. This is a gift 🎁 link, so you can read the entire column, even if you don't subscribe to The Washington Post.

Below are some excerpts 😂:

Well, it’s a week with a Thursday in it, and Florida is, once again, revising its educational standards in alarming ways. Not content with removing books from shelves, or demanding that the College Board water down its AP African American studies curriculum, the state’s newest history standards include lessons suggesting that enslaved people “developed skills” for “personal benefit.” This trend appears likely to continue. What follows is a preview of the latest edition of the dictionary to be approved in Florida. Aah: (exclamation) Normal thing to say when you enter the water at the beach, which is over 100 degrees. Abolitionists: (noun) Some people in the 19th century who were inexplicably upset about a wonderful free surprise job training program. Today they want to end prisons for equally unclear reasons. Abortion: (noun) Something that male state legislators (the foremost experts on this subject) believe no one ever wants under any circumstances, probably; decision that people beg the state to make for them and about which doctors beg for as little involvement as possible. American history: (noun) A branch of learning that concerns a ceaseless parade of triumphs and contains nothing to feel bad about. Barbie: (noun) Feminist demon enemy of the state. Biden, Joe: (figure) Illegitimate president. Black history: (entry not found) Blacksmith: (noun) A great job and one that enslaved people might have had. Example sentence from Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis (R): “They’re probably going to show that some of the folks that eventually parlayed, you know, being a blacksmith into doing things later in life.” Book ban: (noun) Effective way of making sure people never have certain sorts of ideas. Censorship: (noun) When other people get mad about something you’ve said. Not to be confused with when you remove books from libraries or the state tells colleges what can and can’t be said in classrooms (both fine). Child: (noun) Useful laborer with tiny hands; alternatively, someone whose reading cannot be censored enough. [...]

[See more select "definitions" below the cut]

Classified: (adjective) The government’s way of saying a paper is especially interesting and you ought to have it in your house. Climate change: (noun) Conspiracy by scientists to change all the thermometers, fill the air with smoke and then blame us. [...] Constitution: (noun) A document that can be interpreted only by Trump-appointed and/or Federalist Society judges. If the Constitution appears to prohibit something that you want to do, take the judge on a boat and try again. [...] DeSantis, Ron: (figure) Governor who represents the ideal human being. Pronunciation varies. Disney: (noun) A corporation, but not the good kind. [...] Election: (noun) Binding if Republicans win; otherwise, needs help from election officials who will figure out where the fraud was that prevented the election from reflecting the will of the people (that Republicans win). [...] Emancipation Proclamation: (noun) Classic example of government overreach. Firearm: (noun) Wonderful, beautiful object that every person ought to have six of, except Hunter Biden. [...] FOX: News. Free speech: (noun) When you shut up and I talk. Gun violence: (noun) Simple, unalterable fact of life, like death but unlike taxes. [...]

Jan. 6: (noun) A day when some beautiful, beloved people took a nice, uneventful tour of the U.S. Capitol. King Jr., Martin Luther: (figure) A man who, as far as we can discern, uttered only one famous quotation ever and it was about how actually anytime you tried to suggest that people were being treated differently based on skin color you were the real racist. Sample sentence: “Dr. King would be enraged at the existence of Black History Month.” Liberty: (noun) My freedom to choose what you can read (see Moms for Liberty). Moms for Liberty: (noun) Censors, but the good kind. [...] Pregnant (adjective): The state of being a vessel containing a Future Citizen; do not say “pregnant person”; no one who is a real person can get pregnant. Queer: (entry not found) Refugee: (noun) Someone who should have stayed put and waited for help to come. Slavery: (noun) We didn’t invent it, or it wasn’t that bad, or it was a free job training program. Supreme Court: (noun) Wonderful group of mostly men without whom no journey by private plane or yacht is complete. Trans: (entry not found) United States: (noun) Perfect place, no notes. [emphasis added to defined words]

[argisthebulwark]

Time Moves Slow - Vilkas

sfw, gn reader Summary: After returning from Sovngarde the Dragonborn finds that a handful of hours for them has been years for those in Tamriel and reunites with their loved one. Others Linked: Farkas, Brynjolf, Teldryn, Miraak, Cicero

All duties were forgotten as your boots touched ground once more. Vilkas was all that mattered. Bruises ached with every step but you hurried through Whiterun without thinking - it was quieter than you'd expected, shops closed and stalls unmanned. Maybe they'd anticipated another dragon attack. The Gildergreen's branches stood bare and a few unknown citizens cast wary looks when you hustled toward Jorrvaskr. Heart pounding you shoved the hair out of your face, grimacing at the layer of dirt coating your skin before entering Jorrvaskr. The hearth’s fire banished the nervous chill from your bones. Companions filled every chair around the hall, some engaged in conversation and others hunched dutifully over books. The friendly buzz of conversation halted when you entered. You didn't know these eyes. Some held questions while others seemed hostile. "Who are you?" One voice broke the silence and panic set in. You'd only been gone hours. There was no chance someone scrounged up this many recruits in that small matter of time. "Who are all of you?" You'd never felt so lost in your own home. One woman swung an axe over her shoulder when she stood from the table. "Where is Vilkas?" "You know the Harbinger?" The woman's brow quirked up and your stomach dropped. At least she extended a hand toward the living quarters. "He doesn't get visitors. You should see him." Numbly you let the woman lead you through Jorrvaskr. The weapons adorning the walls were polished, portraits you'd never seen hung down the hallway. You swallowed a scream when you saw an accurate depiction of your face after Kodlak's. "Sir, you have a visitor." "I don't get visitors." Vilkas' grunt sounded rougher than ever. Your hands shook when the Companion cracked open the door to the Harbinger's office - there hadn't been a door before. You stared in awe at the scarred wood hung to make the Harbinger's quarters more private. "She seems to know you. Didn't tell us a name." The silence was so harsh you swore everyone in the hall heard your heart. "It'll only take a moment, sir." "Fine." He sighed and the woman snuck you a quick grin. You tried to return it but you couldn't shake the horrible sensation that something was deeply wrong. "Send her in. If it's a new recruit have Jorlyn ready the training yard." "Good luck." With an encouraging pat on the shoulder she departed. You stared at the crack in the door and gathered the screaming mess of your thoughts - Vilkas was behind that door. Had you somehow altered life on Tamriel after slaying Alduin? The World-Eater was surely important to the fabric of time, had you changed something fundamental during a few hours in Sovngarde? "Are you going to stand there all day, or can we get this over with?" All rational words were banished when you shoved open the door. Vilkas' dark hair was shorter than before and streaked through with grey. He flipped through some book and his foot tapped against the leg of his chair. Tears stung at your eyes when you took in the scars you'd never seen before, a clearly aged tattoo on his forearm, a wedding band on his ring finger. This couldn't be Vilkas - but that scowl didn't lie, you'd heard the voice that had whispered sweet promises to you only that morning. "Vilkas." Your voice broke around his name. His black glare finally tore away from the book and for one terrifying moment he didn't seem to know you. His thick brows tightened, mouth in a tight line when he turned to you. "My love?" His gaze softened when he dropped his work. He stood slowly, moving as if he feared approaching you. You couldn't stop tears cascading down your cheeks when Vilkas' fingers finally traced up your jaw, tugging you closer and allowing you to clutch at his unfamiliar armor. His stubble tickled at your skin when he kissed your face, eager hands drawing your body to his. "Where have you been?" His voice shook with each word. Your face stung from tears and Vilkas' familiar fingers combed through the back of your hair, one nervous kiss placed atop your head. "We have so much to discuss."