#poor myrtle | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

misguidedasgardian · 2 months ago

Text

The hour of the Wolf (XII)

XII. The Storm that is brewing

MASTERLIST

Summary:It was the calm before the storm

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, TONGUE-LOSING, blood, death of a horsie, a tourney and all the violence that comes with it, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, birth, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 4 k

Notes: Alright, you know what? This is going to get ugly, I’m a sucker for happy endings but I want to make this story as “real” as it can be, and if ASOIAF is known for something… is that nobody is safe, and this isn’t your usual fairytale. Sorry for the long wait but it took me a WHILE to figure out where I wanted this story to go, and how I wanted it to end, and from how it began. I felt like I drifted too much, too ooc, so… here.

Aerion was fuzzy, it was the noise, but still, you did not want to part from him, and besides, this entire thing was for him.

A tournament had started, two moons later, knights and houses from all over the continent had come to enjoy whole weeks of celebrations for the birth of your child.

You kept gazing back at him, with the nannies in the corner of the royal box, as knights fought to death in the field in front of you. This didn’t amuse you anymore and you wondered why they ever did. After the war, you didn’t really want to see more violence, more blood, or more death.

But nobody died yet so you were hopeful

“Papa! look! that knight has a pointy spear, more like the others”, pointed Rickon, he amazed you more and more each day, he was so smart, nothing ever escaped his sharp little eyes.

But soon the relaxing environment turned sour, as the spokesman presented the next joust

“Ser Daario Blackwood wished to face Ser Jonos Bracken”, you frowned as you looked around and nobody was cheering

Who organized this?

“This cannot happen”, you whispered to Cregan by your side, who frowned, “who organized this?”

Worrying whispers took over the bleachers as the people made nervous remarks. Everybody knew the bloody story between the Blackwoods and the Brackens, they would make any excuse to shed each other’s blood.

Ser Daario approached the royal box.

“Your Grace, my queen”, he offered with a big smile, putting up the visor of his helmet. “If you do me the huge honor, of granting me your favor for this joust, ill surely assure it”, he said with a big smile.

“Of course”, you offered him, throwing through the end of his spear your flower crown, it made from Crepe Myrtle leaves, which look almost black, with red roses and ears of wheat that looked golden.

“Thank you, your most gracious Lady”, he said confidently

Ser Jonos Bracken rode his horse towards it to, this time, he stopped in front of Jaehaera

“If her grace would honor me”, it was odd, to say the least, she was small, and the way he referred to her made your skin crawl. Jaehaera, oblivious to it all and the way he referred to her, she was a child, but she shouldn’t be greeted as “your grace”

She threw her flower crown at him with a soft smile and twinkly eyes, she reminded you so much of Helaena it made your chest tighten.

“Thank you, princess”, said Lord Bracken.

Then both rode to the opposite sides of the tilt

At the signal, both spurred their horses, which neighed nervously and started galloping angrily against one another on each side of the wooden palisade. They met in a horrifying crash of wood, meat and metal.

It was the Bracken who had the point of his spear sharpened and without the protection of the metal point, and when they collided, people screamed as they saw the bloody outcome.

His spear failed at the last second, instead landing on the poor Backwood’s horse, the poor thing screeched in agony. Cregan was quick to distract the children as your eyes couldn’t be taken out of the bloody scene.

The Blackwood got out of his dying mount and unsheathed his sword in a violent movement. The Bracken was quick to release his weapon and do the same

“You are an embarrassment Bracken!”, you heard him scream, “Craven!”, he met his sword with a clash, “Treacherous!”, another swing, “Cunt!”

But the Bracken was quicker, pushing him and threatening him with his sword. You jumped out of your seat and that is when the whole stadium seemed to go quiet.

The Bracken stood tall with the point of his sword in the Blackwood's neck.

“For the one true King of the seven Kingdom, and his heir! princess Jaehaera Targaryen!”, everyone gasped and you just looked at him, straight in the eye.

Blackwood snapped out of the floor, taking advantage of the distraction, he kicked into his legs making him trip and fall, he did as well, he sliced his leg, and when he was back on his feet, he did the same as he had done him, he put the point of his sword in his neck.

“Your grace?”, he asked, “should I slay this traitor’s neck?”, he asked loudly. You heard the children being taken out of the box by the Queensguard.

“Let’s not sully this day with death”, you said loudly, “a tongue I think, sends a better message”, you offered. He did not seem pleased, but obliged.

He took out his tongue in front of everyone

And then they cheered as he raised it in the air.

But there was a part of the public who didn’t applaud, just watched the screaming Bracken on the floor with frowns and disgust.

And you didn’t know what to make of it.

You didn’t know what to feel, or if you should feel anything at all when the joust continued, you couldn’t let it bother you, not in front of the most important families of the realm who had come to celebrate ‘a new beginning’, allegedly. You had to show yourself strong, and that is exactly what you did.

You did not look at Cregan for the remainder of the event, you loved him, he was your husband, but you were the Queen, and you couldn’t be seen as the young girl -that you were- , looking at her husband for approval in front of any trouble that comes your way.

Although he grabbed your hand and squeezed it, in sign of strength.

And you were thankful for that.

The Blackwood was all too happy to continue jousting, invigorated by the Bracken blood you let him spill. The Blackwoods were unhinged but they were loyal to you, and after the situation with Alysanne Blackwood, but everything seemed fine. You wanted to make them an offer of marriage soon, they were key in the victory to the Blacks.

“Ser Abelar Hightower”, out of nowhere, came a knight dressed in all green, with silver marking, a whole tower in the top of his helm, as he wasn’t on the list apparently.

And nobody in the capital had heard anything from the HIghtowers since before Aerion was born, so probably half a year now.

This was the younger brother of the clown that appeared before you when you held audiences

“The Queen was requesting the Hightower presence!”, he said loudly, in a tone you didn’t appreciate, “so I came here to ease her worries”

Well, he didn’t, he faced Blackwood, your personal knight, carrying your favor.

He jousted against him, and he threw him off of his horse in the first assault, he was alive, but barely as they took him out in a made up bed.

And he kept charging at your knights, and winning, and winning yet again.

Then he rode back right in front of your box

“You grace”, he said, taking out the helm. He was nothing like his weak brother. This man was tall and broad as a log, handsome. “I’m here to ease your concerns, and worries, there is no danger to expect from us”, he said, again, the message meant well, the issue was his tone, he was mocking you, “after you emptied out coffers, my Queen, we were forced to cut the tree a little thinner, if you get my meaning”, he said simply

“I do not”, you said back, “but again, this is hardly the time and place”, you said

“We, the Hightowers, got nothing to hide”, he said, sporting a wide, mocking, grin, “we will always serve the House of the Dragon, and the rightful heir”, he said then, and that sparked your interest

“And who that might be? in your eyes?”, asked Cregan, as he stood from his seat, you had missed the fact that he was angrier than you.

He always got particularly in front of treachery and traitors, he took the capital without a single drop of blood, driven by justice and vengeance. And now he stood again in front of you, like the man who had taken King’s Landing in your name

In your late mother’s name.

“Well, the Queen of course!”, he said, “and the next in line, Prince Aegon and Princess Jaehaera”, there it was

It was a complicated situation, as you found the eyes of the mortified lady Tyrell of the Vale, who had attended the celebration in the Reach’s name, and representing her son. She seemed frightened of what was happening, no in any way shape or form what she desired out of her Kingdom.

But still, the Hightowers remained one of the most powerful houses in the realm. Because of where they stood… the oldest city in the seven Kingdoms, the peak of light and wisdom

“The Prince of Dragonstone and Heir to the Iron Throne is Aerion”, said Cregan, “of House Targaryen and Stark, a son of Ice and Fire”, he said firmly, “you might not have heard”

The knight only smiled and nodded, hsi auburn hair reminded you of Alicent

Soon, your son’s cry filled the air and he seemed to have put everything back in order, as chatter spread all over the stadium and noises began filling the air.

“Your grace”, called one of the midwives, you looked back at him with a fond smile

“Take him back to the Red Keep”, you allowed, as you had still tourneys to watch, “Ser Erryk”, you called, he nodded and escorted them back to the castle.

But you yourself couldn’t hold on for much longer.

The night found you in the bowels of the Red Keep

You lit up the candles underneath Balerion’s skull, where you tended to pray before Cregan took the city, before everything was… alright.

“Ao teptan nyke skoros nyke eptan hen ao”, [You gave me what I asked of you], you whispered, ”ao ossēntan ñuha qrinuntyssy, se isse pālegon nyke teptan ao mirri nykēla”, [You slayed my enemies, and in turn I gave you some myself], “ao teptan nyke ñuha dārion”, [You gave me my kingdom], “sir iksan asking syt kustikāne naejot gaomagon ziry”, [Now I’m asking for strength to keep it]

“Tepagon nyke kustikāne naejot mīsagon ñuha tresy”, you begged, you closed your eyes and focused your energy, your mind, your senses into this moment, this silent moment

Nobody ever taught you how to pray to the Gods of Old Valyria, but so far, Balerion has been listening.

You felt him, heard him coming towards you from the hallway

“Are you praying?”, asked Cregan, Erryk following closely behind him

“I’m very sorry your grace”, he apologized

“I didn’t know you followed a religion”, he said

“Some say Targaryens, as their dragons, don’t answer to neither god nor men”, you said gently, “But I find comfort of the Gods of Old Valyria, those whose names inspired the ones of our dragons”, you told him, “Balerion is the god of death, the greatest dragon of my house, and the one whose fire shaped the Iron Throne and the Seven Kingdoms alike”

“You ask the God of Death for strength?”, he asked, he wasn’t judging, he seemed truly surprised. You didn’t answer, “I’m very sorry for interrupting your prayers, but, I was getting worried when I didn’t see you with Aerion, your head snapped back to his

“Is he alright?”, you asked

“Yes”, he was hastily to answer, making you sigh, relieved, “Yes, our son is well, strong like his mother”, you smiled, giving the skull one last look, you returned to the safety of the halls of the Red Keep.

“The feast is waiting”, said Cregan. You barely nodded. And began walking next to your husband

[“I’m concerned”, he said, frowning, looking all across the sea, a cup of wine in hand, “she is alone, without no friends, no family to guide her and care for her”, he said slowly, he then turned to his friends and confidant]

Cregan searched for your hand, and you squeezed it back.

[“She has you”]

“Let’s get Aerion”, he offered

[“It’s not the same”, he said, “I had made you come here because I believe you are the last one, the last one that could be of comfort, you are, in all effects, her aunt, cousin to her mother”, he said softly.]

“I have a surprise for you wife”, he said with a soft smile

“What is it?”, you asked him, intrigued

He led you to the rooms on Maegor’s Holdfast in which you usually would host members of the family who did not reside on the Red Keep

[Lady Jeyne Arryn sipped her cup of wine]

“Aunt!”, you said, happily, as you saw Jeyne Arryn herself waiting for you with a pleased smile. You remembered her fondly, she hosted you when you seeked her support for your mother days before the real war began.

[“I will stay, for a while, to comfort her”, she said, “as my nephew is getting ready training to be the future Lord of the Vale, and I do want to see that beautiful little cherub, a son of ice and fire, the prince of Dragonstone”]

“My Dear niece”, she hugged you back tightly

“Are you here to stay?”, you asked her once you separated, “I heard your nephew is doing great work, shows great promise to become future Lord of the Vale”, you say warmly, she smiled and nodded

“Indeed, it is my wish that I can indeed stay for a good season, to give you my company and my counsel if you so desire it”, she said warmly

“Nothing would please me more”, you said in all honesty. You missed the looks they exchanged with Cregan, you missed the complicity.

“You will be the guest of honor at our feast tonight”, said Cregan

“That would be your son”, sh chided carefully, “is him who we honor, although, not everyone was aware of that”

“Were you there today? at the tourney?”, you asked her, frowning

“Sometimes tells of treachery travel faster then the wind”, she said with warning in her voice

“It is normal, I think, to be resentment, specially after how the Hightowers were shunned”, he said

“After a fire there is always ember”, she said, “what’s important is that it doesn’t catch anything dry around it”, only five minutes -to your knowledge- here and she has already proved herself to be wise and a counsel worthy to listen to.

Until you gathered them in a great hall, you remembered how many great families are in the seven Kingdoms. So many you couldn’t possibly remember their names.

The music was delightful, the food was delicious, the wine was floating freely, thing to Lord Redwyne, but… BUT… there was still something tense in the air.

The mysterious Lord HIghtower didn’t present himself again, he left as mysteriously as he appeared and that did not make you feel better.

You and your counsel, with the arrival of your son and other events, had completely forgotten about the fact that Old Town seemed to have been erased from the map without any word to the capital.

And you did not believed the arrival of Lord Abelar HIghtower to be a ��proof of life’

This was only one of many feasts you were holding for the week's events, so, to everyone's relief really, it ended quite early. The guest of honor, meaning your baby son was not in attendance and you felt restless after today’s events and you wanted to see him.

You have been so caught up inside these walls that you sometimes forget there is a whole world, millions of people out there.

What was happening in the cities? what was happening in the streets of the very city at your feet? in King’s Landing itself?

What was said today? Was it in the mind of most people that it was safe to be? That they wanted Hightower blood in the Iron Throne? that they wanted Jaehaera reigning alongside Aegon? that they believed the Greens should have won?

That you were not the one who should sit the Iron Throne.

Thoughts haunted you as you walked back to your apartments, you felt your resolve crumbling, and that could not happen, you couldn’t slip, you needed to remain strong.

You passed by Aegon and Jaehaera’s apartments, as you saw them both sleep separately you thought about marrying them, but, now? not so much. The betrothal was still not of public knowledge, perhaps you’d do well in marrying Jaehaera away from this madness, with a kind powerful family, that will treat her well, when she is at least eight and ten. Perhaps that is what is best.

She was a kind and sweet child, and even though you wanted to have her under your wing, this foul city was not for the kindhearted, for the faint of spirit.

You learned that the hard way

And despite your best efforts the Red Keep was a nest of vipers.

“Ser Erryk”, you greeted as you found the man guarding your apartment where your son slept.

“Your grace, might I introduce you… the latest member of the Queensguard: Ser Steffon Mangold”, presented Erryk, you smiled warmly at the blonde man stationed right beside him.

“Your grace”, he said enthusiastically, taking a knee in front of you

“It’s a pleasure, I have been told that you were the hardest to find”, you laughed softly, he smiled and stood up again. “The last spot to the Queensguard, where are you from?”

“King’s Landing your grace”, he said quickly, “I have been raised in the city, and I think that is why they chose me”, you looked at Erryk and smiled at him, he nodded back, he had done a good job, it had taken almost a year, but finally it was done.

The mythical seven guards of the Kings, Queens and Princes of the Seven Kingdoms. You looked at the other man at his side, the ones on watch.

Down the hall, following you, came…

“Ser Mervyn Flowers”, greeted Erryk diligently. From House Peak, of Starpike, this as the bastard brother of the Lord of Starpike, Unwin Peak, but you only smiled politely

“Ser Mervyn”, you offered, “Now that I’m in the best care possible, take the night’s watch and watch the childrens chambers if you please”, you checked with Erryk who nodded at you

“It is an honor your grace”, he said, nodding dutifully, and left you

You did not like him.

And it wasn’t unfounded, his brother, half brother, the current Lord of Starpike, had been a supporter of the Hightowers during the war, gathering a host of two thousand men to support the Green army from Oldtown.

During the time Cregan held trials for the traitors and afterwards when you yourself held audiences, Lord Peak came rushing to… demand… your forgiveness, you granted it, not wanting to trouble yourself and to give instability to the Reach after everything that happened so, you pardoned him after the counsel of your now husband. The problem was… he never left.

He had offered himself to fill the post of Tyland after his untimely demise, and Cregan had refused him, deciding to bring yet another Lannister, and now he spent his days… whining and bitching and commenting of every decision the small council had ever made, he couldn’t secure a position for him or any of his family, except for his half brother.

Who was the finalist of Erryk’s long list of candidates, in his defense, for the post of Queensguard, so they decided to pull him to the first seven, to calm his brother, and it looked like it worked

For a couple of weeks

Now the Lord of Starpike was at it again.

He had a daughter, of Aegon’s age, and he was insisting on betrothe the two. You avoided him like the plague, because of your doubts on what to do with the future of the little ones of your family.

No matter how good you tried to put everything together, with the right people, the right family, the throne kept being like a light in the middle of a swamp, I was going to pull in all kinds of creatures, good and bad.

“Ser Erryk, you and Ser Steffon are the ones in charge of Aerion”, you said softly, “until he is of age he will be sharing my chambers, so I want one of you at least with him at all times”

“Of course your grace”, you looked at Ser Steffon, who looked very professional and well mannered, standing there like a statue of the Father.

“Ser Steffon, can I have a word?”, you asked him, he seemed surprised, but nodded

He followed you inside your chambers.

“Have you been out there, in the city, recently?”, you asked him

“Yes your grace”, he said, standing firmly right by the door

“Can I ask, what had been said? in the streets?”

“Your grace?”, he didn’t seem to understand your questions

“What are people saying? about after the war, about the succession?”, you asked him

“The people love their queen!”, he said rapidly, like he was afraid of high treason

“Please”, you begged him, “I won’t hold you accountable for what the people re saying, they are my subjects and if they are worried or displeased I need to know”, you said gently, he seemed pleasantly surprised, but somewhat relieved

“Well, your grace, you see, the war was hard on everyone, and when they raised against your mother, the situation was critical”, he said, “but they love their queen”

“What about those who believed Aegon was the true King, that believe in his legacy?”, you asked

“People are contented with how things turn out”, he assured you, “food is being send again, the people are fed, and you are the one who made sure of it, that is what matters”, he said, “stability, food in their bellies, and safety”

“Well, I think that yes”

“They never cared if the reigning monarch was a man or not”, he said, “they believe in their King or Queen, whoever that might be”, he said, “as long as they are cared for”

“That is right”, you whispered. “Do they accept me as Queen?”

“People is glad that the war is over”, he said, “and they see you as the symbol of that, of a new era of peace and prosperity”

“You seemed to fear me, minutes ago”, you teased

“You are my Queen, and this is the biggest honor of my life, I do not want to disappoint you”, he said

“So you have seen what I have done, or at least heard about it, do you think I am a tyrant?”, you asked

“People in the city talk about how you burn alive your enemies, the pens who caused the war, and how you flew in the back of your dragon and saved the Kingdoms from the wrath of the Ironborns, they talk about how you are in truth the protector of the realm, and I do believe it too”, he said, “you are more than the Lady of the seven Kingdoms, you also are the Protector of the realm”, he said

“Thank you Ser Steffon, I value honesty above all else”, he nodded, “you may go”, he nodded and left the room.

The Protector of the Realm

A strong Queen

You were proving to everyone that it did not matter if you were a woman because you checked all the titles, all of your titles. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, protector of the realm, Queen of the Rhoynar, the Andals and the first men…

With Fire and Blood

Cregan entered the room and smiled as he saw you in your nightgown

“You are happy”, he said with a soft smile

“I have an idea”, you said, “we should take a tour”

“A tour?”, he asked

“After this is over…”, you said, “I wish to take a tour through the Kingdoms, to see my people, so they can see me, and Aerion perhaps”, he listened to you carefully and nodded

“I think it can be done”

“The people need to see me, my heir, and my dragon, to remind them, to reassure them that the war is over and the Kingdoms need to be reunited again.

“I believe, it's a magnificent idea”, he said then.

“And we should go to Oldtown first”, you warned

PCN: I CANNOT SAY ENOUGH HOW SORRY I AM, my inspiration just left the station and didn't come back

AND LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING ELSE

When I woke up this morning, I had no idea, I HAD NO PLANS TO WRITE IT, it just struck me like lightening while I was working, I SWEAR WHEN I ANSWERED THAT ASK EARLIER TODAY I WASN'T WRITING IT, I HAD TWO PAGES AND WERE MOSTLY RAMBLES

Don't know what else to say or how to explain it

I guess Inspiration does have to get you while you are working.

If you read the books, you know what -might- come when I started mentioning weird names, NO SPOILYSSSS

Taglist of the most patient people on the planet

@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia262006 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd@lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol @beebeechaos @brakingboundaries @duds31 @@persophonekarter @missusnora @aleemendoza2425-blog @aesthetic0cherryblossom @arrozyfrijoles23 @sacredmachine @wintfleur @kitkat-writes-stuff @green-lxght @elle-28 @cloudroomblog @r-3dlips

#misguidedhour #cregan #cregan stark x oc #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #cregan stark #cregan x you #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #targaryen!oc #targaryen!reader #house stark #house targaryen #hotd #hotd fanfiction #team black

142 notes · View notes

bethanydelleman · 13 days ago

Text

I think The Great Gatsby is the only tragedy that I both love and haven't attempted to fix, either in my mind or through fan fiction. The reason for this is probably because it's impossible to make Jay Gatsby and Daisy a happy couple, no matter what you do with the canon characters. Unlike say, Romeo & Juliet or Mansfield Park, there is no point where something can go right and plausibly end well.

It is fundamental to Daisy's character, and part of the reason that Gatsby fell in love with her, that she is rich and to his that he was born poor. If you fix Gatsby getting stuck at Oxford after the war, either Daisy still marries wealth (and is just a bit more sad about it) or she does marry Gatsby and ends up discontent. At best, they'd achieve middle class (because he wouldn't take the same huge risks married), which she would hate, and while she would have love, it wouldn't be enough.

If Myrtle isn't hit by the car, Gatsby isn't shot in the pool, but that was the most merciful thing that could have happened to him. Daisy was not going to endure the public humiliation of a high profile divorce. Her return to Tom was inevitable (something Nick knew but Gatsby denied). Gatsby dies still able to believe that he'll have a future with Daisy. That's the best he's ever going to get.

Daisy was always an unachievable dream to Gatsby. A girl like her was never going to wait for him to become wealthy. She would never be content with him poor. Tragedy was guaranteed the moment he fell in love. You can't fix it.

#the great gatsby #the American dream is a lie is what I'm saying #so you can't fix it #the ending we got was the happiest possible option #f scott fitzgerald #Gatsby holds on to the idea that if only he got home in time it would have been fine #but I think that's just so he can forgive Daisy #I guess maybe if he was there he would fall out of love #that then not build his empire and die #but what's the fun in that?

52 notes · View notes

wrenseyeview · 1 year ago

Text

Ah so that's the actual name for crepe myrder

You love to see it. (Not the destruction of trees, obvs, but shitheads meeting their oncoming comeuppance at the hands of trees.)

#all excellent information #rich parts of town especially do this to crepe myrtles all the time #so my family calls it crepe myrder #poor beheaded trees

36K notes · View notes

thebestofoneshots · 1 year ago

Text

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.5 K Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence. (Reader discretion is advised). Prompt: We need to talk. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 24: Peace of Mind

10:00 November 24th, 1976

You waited for the girls to fall asleep and used a combination of spells to sneak out without being noticed. Lily had changed your bandages before bed and you had gladly let her, Sirius’ words reverberating in your head as she did “ Don’t be so stubborn and let us help!”

Perhaps you’d have to use those same words with Remus later on. Little after telling him you were sorry for hurting him so bad and asking him to please not hate you for the rest of his life. As you walked towards the infirmary with the disillusionment charm, the same charm you had used so often since you arrived at Hogwarts that you had pretty much mastered it. Your charm was almost as deceiving as James’ invisibility cloak, logically you knew it’d never match its greatness, but you could definitely get close.

At least enough to sneak past Peeves who was busy rearranging all the portraits on one of the halls so they were all upside down, you heard the paintings complain as he shook them about for good measure. You winced, I wouldn’t want to be any of those portraits, you thought, but continued on your way to the infirmary. As you walked you pulled the sleeves of your quidditch sweater over your hands, the temperature had dropped a little that night and you felt a stark contrast between the cold you felt then and how hot you had felt earlier in the passages with Sirius, you flushed a little when the images came back you your mind, the hunger you had felt had been so overwhelming it felt like a dream.

You took another breath, still feeling cold. Was being sensible to temperature changes also because of the bit of lycanthropy running through your system at that point? Did poor Remus have to deal with them so often? Maybe that was why he always carried around some kind of sweater, in case it got chilly and he felt it a little more strongly than the rest.

Once you arrived at the big infirmary doors you looked at them for a minute and waited, taking a deep breath as you stared. You had gotten word that Pomfrey usually retired to her chambers at 11:30 PM, after curfew and once she made sure all the children in the infirmary –if there were any– had fallen asleep. Her chambers were close enough so she could rush back in, in case of an emergency with the children, and she had some house elves check on the children often.

You were thankful you had made friends with Myrtle since she had been the one to provide you with so much detailed information. Information that she had eavesdropped out a couple of years ago when Sirius, James and Peter were planning how to get into the infirmary since no one allowed them to visit Remus.

You had also gone to talk to Numbletwist earlier that day, to try and figure out if there would be any elves in the infirmary that night. She shook her head, telling you that they were often called off when students got sick around the full moon. She said it was probably because Poppy liked to stay extra attentive of things. You had nodded and thanked her profusely for the information. Scurrying away with the excuse of needing to rest before she asked why you wanted to know.

You heard a bit of rattling and then one of the doors opened up, she walked outside, using her wand to illuminate her path, and you sneaked in and hid behind one of the beds, even if you still had the disillusionment charm, you knew it was better safe than sorry. And Poppy definitely had better eyesight than most witches her age. She turned off the rest of the lights in the infirmary and closed the door behind her, but you stayed crouching behind the bed.

You stood there, breathing steady as you slowly pushed yourself up to peer over the bed and check whether Remus was asleep or awake. He seemed to be waiting for Poppy to leave too, since a couple of minutes later he lifted himself up, accommodating a pillow and pulling his wand out. He used Lumus to see better as he looked through the drawer of his night table, grabbing onto a book and settling it over his lap.

Great, Remus really had no plan to sleep soon then, you shrank into Vixen and walked over to Remus, sneaking in below his bed and onto the other side, where you could keep an eye on the door just in case. Once you manage to collect your thoughts you sprung back into human form. Remus jumped from his spot in the bed when you appeared out of nowhere.

“Sorry to startle you,” you whispered with a bit of a frown, regret evident in your tone.

“Little Witch?” he asked as he blinked a couple of times, trying to decipher if the way the low blue light from the stars and the waning moon shone behind your figure was all part of a dream or whether you really were there again. In truth, he had smelled you minutes earlier, but he assumed perhaps he was just picking up your scent from the chocolates you kept bringing over, or he was so drudged with potions that he was now smelling you like you really were there. And it wouldn’t be uncommon, he had dreamed of you so often lately that you standing there might really just be yet another one. But the way the light cast a halo behind you was too realistic to be part of his imagination “What are you doing here?”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you said simply.

Remus stiffened and froze as if he had seen a basilisk, but then shook his head “I wasn’t… I didn’t–”

“–It’s ok,” you cut him off “I get it, I understand why you wouldn’t want to see me, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry I was stubborn and I’m sorry I jinxed you and I’m sorry I had the Whomping Willow throw you to the side and I’m sorry Prongs had to gore you, several times because I couldn’t run fast enough and I’m sorry I–“

Remus reached for your hand, and your breath caught in your throat as you felt a small shock of electricity, “hey!” he said softly “I wasn’t avoiding you because I’m angry at you.”

Remus’ hand was warm and soft, not as soft as Sirius’ but not as tough as you imagined it would be. “Then why?”

“I– I thought you wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore,” he admitted, his hand on yours tightening “After the moon I was terrified the reason you’d come to see me was… to say goodbye. Because the friend that you thought you had was a monster, and because I couldn’t control myself as a wolf and because I’m bIoody dangerous to be around.”

That was the second time Remus called himself a monster in front of you, you’d have none of it, “Remus,” you said, leaning in a little closer “You’re not a monster.”

“I’m pretty sure werewolves fit in the category damn nicely,” he responded bitterly.

“I give three fucks if they fit in the monster category, in the extra dangerous being category or in the beasts section of the library. You, Remus. My Remus, are not a monster.”

Perhaps Remus would have realised the way you had used his name had it not been with how wrapped up in his own head he was “I could’ve killed you.”

“You didn’t.”

He averted your gaze “Could’ve bitten you. That’s what the wolf wanted, you know? To bite you. To turn you.”

“But you didn’t,” you insisted. “And even if you had, we would’ve found a way to deal with it.”

“Like how? After a bite there’s no way back, trust me, I would know.”

“I didn’t say we’d find a way to revert it, I said we’d deal with it. Remus, I’d rather be a werewolf than lose you.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. I’m awful.” I’m crushing on your boyfriend, and on you for fucks sake, he thought “You’d be better off–“

You wouldn’t let him finish that phrase “–don’t bullshit me like that,” you said sternly “There isn’t a bIoody universe in which I’d be better off without you, on which any of us would. Not one!”

“But I hurt you. Even as you ran, I chased behind you and then I dug my claws on–“

“–It was a scratch.”

“Stop cutting me off, damn it!” he spat, a little annoyed. “And it wasn’t a scratch, Peter told me how you shivered all night.”

“Well then stop saying stupid shit and I will stop cutting you off!” you responded exasperated. Then you sighed, placing one of your hands on your temple. The hand that wasn’t glued to Remus’ “freaking little Wormtail ratted me out.” you mumbled.

“I literally kept pushing until my claws broke your soft skin, Moony could have broken your arm.”

“I would have survived.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Remus. You can’t make decisions for me,” you said slowly “I knew you were a werewolf for a couple of weeks before this happened, and I never even once considered to stop being your friend.”

“That was before…”

“And it’s the exact same thing now,” you responded with a thin smile. “I don’t care if you’re a werewolf, I don’t care if Moony scratched me and made me hungry, and sensitive to temperatures and thirsty. I don’t care if my arm hurts or if I have to change my bandages every couple of hours and add more of Lily’s magic mixture or take painkillers. And that’s because, no matter what, you’re still Remus, and I wouldn’t want you to be any different,” you gave his hand a squeeze “I’m not gonna let you push me away because you’re terrified I might be scared of Moony.”

“But you were terrified of me! The nightmares, the boggart, the…”

“That was before I met Moony.”

“What?”

“He’s beautiful Remus, you’re beautiful.”

“What?!” he repeated, a little louder now.

You took a deep breath “Yes, the nightmares, the beast. I was scared because a huge thing chased after me, squashing me and throwing me around countless times. But Remus, I had never gotten to see it, not really, I was too busy running away from it to pay attention. Did you know he has your eyes?” Your kind eyes, you thought. “The golden specks that are more present near the moon? I could see them, and I wasn’t scared anymore.”

“And that was dumb, leaving my wand on the ground–“

“–I said I would stop interrupting if you stopped with the stupid comments.”

“It’s the truth.”

You wanted to argue, but it really had been a stupid thing to do, you had been so mesmerised by the wolf, that perhaps you really weren’t thinking straight. Not that it would be expected, especially after everything you had gone through previous to that. “Fine then, one part brave, three parts fool, I’m a Gryffindor after all. Regardless, I’m not scared of Moony, not anymore, not now I know It’s you.”

“That’s stupid too,” he added, you could feel a slight change in his tone, he was a lot more relaxed now, he’s joking, you realised.

“Well you have a very stupid friend, get over it,” you joked with a smile, “Are you going to stop avoiding me now?”

Remus sighed “How could I abandon my potions partner?” he asked, a small smirk drawing itself on his lips.

You chuckled, your hands, the ones that were still intertwined with each other, dangled as your shoulders shook, “That’s the spirit,” you said, your sight flickering towards his hand, and the way it held yours. You brushed your thumb gently over a particularly thick scar on the back of his hand. Remus shivered, but you were so cold you assumed it was for the same reason that you would, werewolves were clearly more sensible to temperature.

“Your hand is very cold,” he said as he tightened his grip.

“It’s freezing here,” you responded, “you feel it too, don’t you? You shivered.”

He cleared his throat “Yeah,” he lied “kinda cold.”

“Your hand’s nice and warm tho,” you acknowledged.

“I had it under the covers,” he lied again. He wondered why you hadn’t separated your hands, not because he wanted you to do it, but rather because he was dreading the moment you did, “how’s the arm?” He asked, nodding towards it.

You shrugged, “It’s healing… your ribs? I broke them didn’t I?”

“It was the Whomping Willow.”

“Yeah, the tree, and my carefully executed plan.”

That had him shaking his head in amusement “How did you know it would work?”

You swallowed, you could lie and say you used maths or highly advanced magic to calculate things to the tea, but enough secrets had been held between you and Remus already “I didn’t,” you admitted “The idea just came to me and I used my instinct to know when to jump.”

“You’re insane,” he said with a shake of his head, he was half pissed, half amused you had managed to pull it off “and brilliant.”

You frowned, a small smile playing on your lips “I’ll take that as a compliment,” there was a silence and you leaned in to sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to hurt the boy as you sat, your head still turned to him “Tom said you’d be out tomorrow.”

“Is that how you found out I was avoiding you?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.

You nodded “Yeah, that and Poppy looking at me so pitifully, even Sirius seemed like he was suspicious after a while.”

He winced “Sorry ‘bout that… But yeah, she said I could leave tomorrow, she kept me here tonight just in case.”

“Well, thank Godric she did, this would’ve been an awkward conversation to have in front of the boys,” you teased “especially when I didn’t even let you speak.”

“I was being twat.”

“Yeah, you were,” you agreed, a small teasing smile on your face. He scooted slightly to the side to give you more space to sit, then pulled your hand so you moved in a little bit more.

There was silence, a rather comfortable one, but Remus broke it, he was now rubbing circles on your hand “You were here when Pomfrey gave me the Skellegro,” he said, and then turned his gaze to you “Weren’t you?”

You nodded “Sirius and Lily brought me over for dittany and silver dust, the scratch wasn’t healing until Lily made some a paste.”

“So you were bleeding all night…” he said, guilt filling his expression.

You sighed “It’s fine, I heal fast.”

Remus looked to the side, barely spotting the bruise on your neck “Is that from when they…?” he asked, pointing towards it.

You opened your eyes wider and pulled the collar of the sweater you were wearing up, blushing at the memory of Sirius kissing your neck as he had you flushed against the stone wall of one of the passageways “Um… I… no it’s…”

Remus understood a sour expression playing on his face that he masked with disgust “Ugh you and Pads are gross.”

You hit him on the arm playfully “As if you’d never done it,” you chastised “Oh.. by the way, what’s with you and Alice?” you asked with an arched eyebrow and a suggestive smile.

Remus felt a pang in his chest, the cause was in the way you’d asked, so casually and playfully. You were clearly teasing him, and also clearly not into him. And then he cursed himself for feeling jealous, of course, she’s not into me, she’s into Sirius, her boyfriend. “We… I mean…” how the fuck do I tell her we’re only having fun without sounding like an ass? It's not like I can tell her I’m using Alice as a distraction, that’d be way worse.

“You’re not in love with her, are you?” you asked, with a rather apprehensive tone.

“Does that make me an asshole?”

You shook your head “I’m sure she’s not in love either,” you said with a sigh “Todd told me she likes to have fun and then… Well, I don’t think that makes her a bad person per se, as long as she’s honest about it.”

“She is,” he reassured, “she’s fun too.” Remus wasn’t sure fun was a very accurate description, not even close to distracting, but it seemed like the right thing to say.

“That’s good. You deserve to have fun,” you said with a smile “Though I’m sure you’d easily find someone for a deeper connection if you were looking for it.”

Remus scoffed, shaking his head “Yeah sure, until they find out I’m a monst–“

“–We’re not going to keep calling you that, Remus,” you interrupted. “And I think they would. Just think about it, all of the people who know are still there for you, no matter what. We’re here, and if someone really loved you, they would be there for you too. And if they weren’t then they don’t deserve you.” He gave you a look of disbelief “Honest, if I were dating you, and then I found out. Even if I had gone through the same thing I went through that night, I’d still date you.”

Remus wasn’t sure whether to be happy or cry at your statement “But you’re dating Sirius.” It was almost bitter the way he said it, but it slipped past you.

“Well duh, but hypothetically, I’d love you either way. And I mean, how many people can say they’re dating a sexy werewolf, that’s gotta give you some points…”

Remus grabbed one of the pillows from his side and threw it at your face, he didn’t wanna talk about depressing shit anymore.

“Oi! What was that for?!”

“You were getting too sappy with me,” he said with a diverted smile.

You narrowed your eyes at him, a mirroring smile on your lips “Oh you’re a twat,” you said as you hit him on the side lightly, he groaned and you winced, brows instantly furrowing in concern “Sorry…” He nodded, but a small smile showed on his soft lips, like he was holding back a laugh. You quickly realised he had faked it and hit him again in return “That’s a nasty trick, you shouldn’t take advantage of your hurt state.”

“The one that you induced?” he said as his grin widened, teasing you again. You gasped in shock, and laughed afterwards, hitting him again a couple more times.

“Oi, oi, that’s enough…” he said as he grabbed onto your hand, laughing along with you.

He had been soft when he grabbed you, but he was so strong even if you had wanted to, you wouldn’t have been able to move your arm, but instead of dwelling on the boy’s strength, you just laughed merrily, leaning in so far down that your hair brushed over his chest. He could smell it, and it was as delightful as ever, perhaps a bit more now that he knew you wouldn’t avoid him just because of his condition. He took a deep breath as you laughed, almost feeling guilty for enjoying the moment so much.

You cannot love her, it is sin, said a voice in his head as he listened to your giggles, but why does it feel like heaven then?

“Can you turn back into the fox?” he asked, despite himself. Perhaps he was already so drunk on you, and your laughs that he wasn’t thinking straight. You turned your gaze to him, as you let your laughs die out. An arched eyebrow looking at him questioning “You got to see Moony, but I only got to see the fox through his eyes. I wanna see her with my eyes,” he reasoned, although he wasn’t sure if he was actually reasoning.

“Seems fair enough,” you said with a shrug “It’s Vixen, by the way.”

“Who’s Vixen?”

“Me,” you said as if it was obvious “I mean… the fox, she is. Wormmy and Prongs chose it, Sirius said it fit.”

Remus hummed in response “It certainly does,” he said as he looked at you, the blue moonlight was still illuminating your features, and you certainly looked as charming as ever, tantalising, beguiling even. And the small cut on your lip? The one that he had noticed since the day at the Shrieking Shack and hadn’t disappeared from your face yet, along with the hickey Sirius had left on your neck, made you look as fierce as ever.

Remus wondered for a second what it would feel like to leave a matching one on the other side of your neck, what would it feel like for Sirius to leave one on his? He knew he was yearning for something he couldn’t have, alas, he had yearned for a normal life so often, he was already used to the feeling. But his fantasies about being normal were never as sweet as his fantasies of you, of Sirius. Of either of your lips attached to his neck or his lips attached to yours, to Sirius’s silky pale skin or to your soft velvety neck. To your collarbone, to the indents that made it almost impossible for him to look back at your face. He remembered you in your Halloween costume again, he remembered Sirius’s devilish smile and matching outfit, and he had to adjust the bedsheets underneath, clearing his throat as he tried to get back on earth.

It’s Moony’s fault, It’s Moony’s fault! Did she notice? Will she buy it if I tell her that?

“Is it really a good idea for me to turn into Vixen here? Isn’t it like… dangerous for your wounds and stuff?”

Remus frowned, buffing diverted “You’ve got rabies or something?”

You gasped again “Of course I don’t! How would you feel if I asked you the same thing?!” He shrugged in response and you considered hitting him again. “Fine then,” you said “but I will bite if you try anything weird.”

“Define anything weird…” he teased.

“I’d rather bite instead,” you retorted “It’ll be my payback for the scratch,” you said with a diverted smile before shrinking into Vixen. You were still on the bed as Remus looked at you. You were small, smaller than normal, and certainly smaller than Padfoot, a good deal less than half as tall as him.

“So you are a little witch in the end,” he teased as he looked at you, you bared your teeth at him for a second, and turned your head, “Aww… don’t be like that!” You shook your head and walked a little closer to him, feeling the soft bed give way under your paws.

You stared at him curiously, and you understood why he wanted to see you as a fox so much, it was completely different, the way in which you perceived someone being animal or human. Remus, for example, seemed a lot bigger when you looked at him from the eyes of Vixen. You could also feel the heat radiating from him, which is why you had almost instinctively walked closer. And just like you had been lured by Moony when you left the wand on the floor, Vixen seemed to somehow be lured by Remus.

You wondered if you were to lose your mind, and be more fox than human, would you still feel just as beguiled by the boy?

Remus was still looking at you when he extended his hand as if he wanted to pet you, but he pulled it back seconds later when he remembered Peter had once straight up bit him when he tried to do it for the first time, and you had threatened to bite. But what you did instead was surprising, since you walked closer and placed your head underneath his extended palm, nuzzling into it like a cat would.

When Remus started brushing his fingers over your head you leaned in closer, allowing him to scratch just behind your ears, which had you relax so much you almost allowed yourself to lay on the bed. When he pulled away his hand you nuzzled his arm with your nose, so he would come back “Needy, aren’t we?” he teased. You didn’t even care to respond. His hands were so big they almost covered your entire head, and so warm too, it was like having a heated blanket that also gave massages.

Maybe it was the canine side of you, but he started scratching a particular spot that had you wagging your tail like a small puppy. Remus laughed when he noticed “You still cold?” he asked when he felt your cold paw brush against his forearm. You nuzzled closer to his hand in response. “Wanna come here?” he asked, patting his chest. You tilted your head, looking at his chest rise and fall, still feeling the heat coming from it.

Maybe it’s weird, shouldn’t have aske– Remus didn’t get to finish his thoughts, you had already climbed all the way up to his chest, fast and careful, trying to avoid the side where you knew the Whomping Willow had hit him. He smiled as you nuzzled your entire body against him, allowing your tail to almost wrap itself around you, bringing a little more warmth into the equation. You then bumped your head against his chest softly.

“What’s that little witch? You want me to pet you some more?” he asked, but he wasn’t teasing this time, the cocky undertone you’d heard earlier completely gone this time around. You allowed your head to rest and closed your eyes as you moved up and down along his every breath.

Eventually, he brought his hand over you again, this time resting it over your back, and moving it softly along your fur, with soft strokes from your head to your mid back, your only reaction was to close your eyes and enjoy the way his fingers intertwined with your fur. You wondered if cuddling with Sirius as a fox would feel just as nice and decided you’d have to ask him to try, even if you had no idea how you’d put that into words.

Either way, Remus was awfully good at cuddling: big, warm, heavy hands, and a total people pleaser. You realised when he figured out the spot that made your tail waggle and focus his scratches there from then on. You had been so comfortable with the boy, that you didn’t even notice the moment you fell asleep. He did see you; and was extra quiet for a while, the only sound being the one of his breaths and your light snoring, or what sounded like snoring at least, Remus wasn’t sure if foxes actually had the ability to snore.

He had been admiring the way you slept, so peaceful, and so beautiful too, he was sure all the foxes would fall for you in the forest if they met you, not that he would allow any of them to lay a paw on you. Which he then realised might have been one of the stupidest things to ever cross his mind. But at least he wasn’t thinking of you and Sirius. Except when he was and he forced himself to look back at Vixen, letting his anxiety melt away as he continued to brush his hands over your soft red fur.

And as his anxiety left, so did most of his negative thoughts, and he was engulfed in this ever so peaceful stance that he was sure to cuddle Vixen for the rest of his life had he the chance. After some time, he too started feeling sleepy, his eyelids heavy and his stroking slower, lazier, he too fell asleep. And you must have stayed like that, sleeping on top of him, your slight weight comforting him the same way a weighted blanket would, for at least a couple of hours. Since next thing you knew, there was a high-pitched scream and you felt yourself being pushed off Remus with the force of a spell.

You fell on your leg and let out a cry of pain, you were rather confused when you noticed the woman that had used a spell against you had been no other than Madam Pomfrey.

“Wait no! Poppy, stop!” you heard Remus say, panicked and sitting up on the bed to get the woman’s attention. You shook your head and attempted to stand, only for your leg to give in again. You huffed, and while wincing, forced yourself up. You saw Pomfrey approaching you, her wand still in her hands as she pointed it at you.

You took a couple of steps back, feeling a sharp pain whenever you moved your front leg. “She’s my pet!” Remus said, “Don’t hurt her.”

Pomfrey seemed distracted by the boy’s words and you took that as a chance to scurry under one of the beds and then all the way to the door.

Every step was agonising, but the adrenaline kept you going all the way to the door that seemed to have shown up out of nowhere. You looked to the sides of the hall to make sure there was no one around before springing back into your human form and pushing the door open, getting in and closing it behind you. You could feel the stickiness of your arm.

Evans is going to kill me, you thought as you leaned in on the door, allowing yourself to rest for a second before turning to look at the place you had ended up in. And when you did you were surprised, since it looked just like the infirmary, you frowned, and opened the door to see if you had run to the same place that you’d left, but it was positively a different hallway. Different paintings, different statues, different doors, it’s definitely not the same place, you thought.

You went back in after a second and looked around again, now clutching your wounded arm, and tilted your head as you stared. Upon closer inspection, it was most definitely not the same infirmary either. In fact, near the back, there was a rather large mirror and a supply closet near it, the infirmary had large windows instead. You walked near the middle of the room and looked around you, there weren’t many beds either, and the place seemed to be filled with things that could be useful. From warm blankets to a sink and clean rags close to it.

You blinked a couple of times, taking it all in, the usefulness, the door that seemed to have shown up out of nowhere, you let out a short breath, realisation hitting you “The Room of Requirements,” you whispered.

Then started nodding, hyping yourself up for what you’d have to do next. You turned around to see if there was a clock somewhere, which there indeed was, a huge grandfather clock near the door, it was 4 am, and you had just enough time to clean things up and go back to your room, change and get back to class.

You took your shirt off and winced when you realised the bIoody bandage, if you kept acting so recklessly, you weren’t sure it was ever actually going to heal. You walked towards the sink, and wet one of the rags before passing it over the broken flesh. You winced as the warm piece of cloth passed over the open part of the wound. You stared at it for a second once it was clean, even after all the misadventures, it certainly looked better than it had done the previous night. But it hurt just as much as it had, the painkillers might have been wearing thin by then.

You walked towards the supply closet, your vision a little blurry due to the sharp pain. Luckily the first thing you spotted was some painkillers, you instantly drank a bit of it and placed the rest in your pocket. You kept rummaging through it and found dried dittany leaves and some silver dust. So you grabbed a mortar, and some beeswax and mugwort, which were the few things you remembered Lily had used to make her green paste, and recreated it to the best of your abilities. With your dominant arm incapacitated -and drowning in pain since the painkillers hadn’t done their thing- you clenched the mortar handle in your other hand and started to mix.

Once the paste was ready, you washed your hand and with trembling fingers, you gingerly spread the paste across the open wound. A couple of tears started streaming down your cheeks as you did. You must have missed something when you made the paste since instead of making you feel instant relief, it stung like hell for what felt like an eternity before gradually numbing the pain.

Once you had gone through most of the scratch you used the back of your hand to wipe your tears and sniffed as you took some more in your finger, hesitating for a second before biting your lip and finally placing the paste on the parts that you hadn’t covered yet.

When you finished with it, you felt utterly drained. The pain was still there, your arm had even started to throb. You let your head fall back and considered just throwing yourself on the floor, the temptation to just rest almost agonising, but you knew you still had to wrap a bandage around your wounded arm. You were fumbling with the ends of the bandage roll when you remembered Sirius’ words “Don’t be stubborn and let us help!”

You swallowed, he probably would have run off to help you had you asked, but Sirius must have been just as tired as you were, and even if he hadn’t been hurt physically, you were sure the events of the night had taken a toll on his mind, heck they clearly had done it on yours, so, despite his command, you decided to deal with it in your own. You continued trying for a couple of minutes, and after what felt like an eternity –and in a fit of desperation– you hurled it against the mirror. It bumped down and rolled off, one of the ends staying behind as the rest of the roll continued unravelling.

You sighed and went to grab another one from the supply closet and started trying once again. This time around you actually managed to open it after a couple of minutes and brought your arm up. You held the end against your arm with your chin and you started wrapping. Eventually, you switched your manual labour for your wand and used a simple spell to levitate the roll of bandages around your arm, making sure that it was just tight enough to seal the wound but not so tight as to cause additional pain, mirroring the way both Sirius and Lily had done it earlier.

When you were done, you turned to the watch again, you’d hoped you had enough time to lay in one of the beds of the infirmary but when you realised you had spent over an hour there you cast a quick disillusionment charm and sneaked back to the common room. You did consider staying in the Room of Requirements and not going back, but your friends would probably worry if they didn’t see you at all in the morning, Lily would be panicked and the boys, especially Sirius, would cause a mini-scandal. You could almost hear Sirius ask something like “How the hell did you lose my girlfriend Evans?” Which is why, in the end, you decided against it.

You picked up the mess with a wave of your wand and put your shirt and sweater back on, giving a once over to the room before leaving and walking through the halls and passageways trying to make as little sound as possible. Once you arrive at your common room you let yourself fall into one of the single couches by the fire. Not bothering to counter your disillusionment charm, as you used your wand to kindle the fire. You sank deeper on the couch and sighed, closing your eyes for a snooze when you heard footsteps.

You turned to the side and spotted Sirius and James walking down, you waved at them, and when they didn’t respond, you remembered you were still kind of invisible. You were about to cancel the spell off when you saw Sirius was already leaning to sit down, on the exact same spot you were. You moved your wounded arm to the side and allowed the boy to sit “Hey babe,” you whispered as you wrapped your arm around his waist, Sirius pretty much jumped off and turned around looking mortified.

You just laughed at his reaction, “Vixen?!” you heard James ask as he squinted his eyes in your direction, you just kept laughing as you finally waved your wand over yourself again, allowing the spell to vanish, the painkiller potion was finally doing its thing and you already felt a lot better.

“Hey Prongs!” you said with a smile.

“What the hell was that Stashine, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Don’t you get one of those whenever you look into my eyes?” you asked with a playful pout, James laughed again, and your boyfriend just looked at you surprised.

“How did you know it would be Sirius the one to sit there?” James asked.

“I was already here, I just took the chance,” you said, scooting to the side to allow Sirius to sit by your side, even in the small space. He didn’t think about it twice and sat beside you, pulling you by the waist half over one of his legs so you’d be more comfortable.

“Absolutely brilliant!” James complimented, Sirius threw him a look “And you disillusionment charm too, I’d never seen one so good.”

“Thanks!” you said with a smile “I’ve been using it a lot recently.”

“You do know you can just take the Invisibility Cloak, right?”

You nodded, not if I have to tell you what I need it for, you thought. “That’s very nice of you Jammie,” you said with a smile.

“How’s the arm?” Sirius asked.

You looked at him for a second, a tight smile on your lips before you nodded “Great.”

Sirius frowned, not quite buying it, but didn’t press further. “Why were you out here, luv?” James asked “I’d assume Lily would rather be checking on you instead of having you here by yourself.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you said pointing to your eyebags “And the fire seemed tempting… and also I went to check on Remus who was avoiding me.”

“You noticed?” Sirius asked about at the same time James said something like “You went to see Remus by yourself?!”

“Of course I noticed! I went to check on him like 5 times and he was asleep all of them. Tom comes up and says he had a chat with him seconds after we went to visit. It was suspicious enough. And then there was Pomfrey’s pitiful look whenever I showed up…”

“He sometimes does that… I assumed he was doing it when we went before lunch. Did you get him to talk to you?” Sirius asked.

You nodded “Yeah, we’ve sorted things out, had to call him out on how dumb he was being though.”

Sirius laughed at the casual way you said it, and pulled you a bit closer to him “That’s my girl!”

You were distracted for a good second, remembering the way Remus had pulled Vixen closer and how similar it had been to the way Sirius had done it, you wondered if it was a Brit thing, to be so touchy –which you already knew Sirius was- or if instead it was something very particular of the boys.

“It’s kinda late for flying, isn’t it?” James asked as he looked at the clock, clearly the messy sleepless nights had also taken a toll on him.

“Who are you and what have you done to James Potter?” You teased.

“Don’t mess with him, Kit, he might change his mind.”

“Kit?” You asked, turning to him with a raised eyebrow.

He shrugged “If you can call me Puppy I can call you Kit,” he said simply, to which you laughed, it wasn’t that you didn’t like it, rather you were a little surprised. And really, the more you thought about it, it was rather endearing.

“Does that mean we’re not flying then?” you asked, turning back to James, “even if the next game is on Sunday?”

James groaned, placing a pillow over his head to muffle the sounds. “Now that’s straight-up torture,” Sirius said with a teasing smile as he pointed at James.

“Either way, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to play, we might have to move the–“

“–Don’t even joke about it Potter!” you said in a serious tone.

James winced, you didn’t call him James, not even Prongs, you were not happy about his suggestion, but he was the captain, and he had to look out for his team, he had to look out for you, “You’re hurt.”

“It was barely a scratch!”

“You keep saying that, but I see the way you clutch onto your arm when the painkillers wear off–“

“I’ll be like new by Sunday!” you argued again “I heal fast.”

“Sunday is in three days!”

“Back me up on this?” you asked, turning to Sirius, who had a small frown on his face.

He couldn’t find a way to say what he wanted to say without upsetting you “Darling, maybe Prongs is right…”

You turned to him exasperated “Don’t block me like this James! We’re playing Slytherin, I want to show those assholed that they didn’t–” You cut yourself off, not being able to finish the sentence either.

James’ face seemed to soften at your words, Sirius and Remus had somewhat told them what happened that night, or at least what they knew, and what they assumed. You hadn’t talked to them much about it, let alone go into detail, but either way, he understood. He got why you were so desperate to prove that you could still fight -or fly in this case–, you needed to show them that no matter what they did, they wouldn’t bring you down, “We’ll think about it,” he conceded. You were still looking at him with a frown, “Listen if your arm really is better off by then, then you’ll play.”

“You promise you’ll let me?”

Sirius was looking at James reproachfully, as if he wasn’t happy with his answer, but didn’t say a thing. He could try to convince you of dropping it later, although he was pretty sure you wouldn’t change your mind about it, not unless you were bedridden or something.

“I promise we’ll think about it.” You nodded, that was probably as good as it would get. Now all you had to do was play the part of someone who was not affected at all by the hit and you’d be able to play on Sunday.

“Aren’t you hungry luv?” Sirius asked.

And strangely enough, you weren’t that hungry, in fact, you hadn’t been hungry since you went to visit Remus, which made you assume it was a Lycanthropy thing. Regardless, a warm cup of tea, along with some toast did sound incredibly good, so you nodded, motioning to stand up when you saw Remus walk in, he looked visibly relieved when he spotted you, even as you were almost sitting on Sirius’ lap.

“Good to see you’re all right, after the fall I thought you might have–“

“–What fall?” Sirius asked, turning to you.

“That?! It was nothing…” you said, “I had turned into Vixen and Pomfrey saw me, and was probably horrified since I was close to Rem, and then she pushed me off with a spell. I mean it hurt a little but it was nothing…”

“You were thrown in the air and fell to the ground, and it was nothing?” Sirius asked as he toyed with the hem of your sweater’s sleeve, to see if he could lift it enough to check on your wound.

“Yes, Pomfrey wasn’t trying to hurt me, and Remus stopped her from following.”

Remus was sure he’d seen you break the fall with the same arm that was hurt but decided not to press any further, since you clearly didn’t want to go too much into detail. He plopped down next to James on the sofa and turned to Sirius “How’s the plan going?” He asked the long-haired boy.

“What plan?” you asked with furrowing your eyebrows just a little bit.

“The revenge plan.”

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

TAGLIST: @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @drugs-for-memes @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader @orkwardx0 @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow @sbrewer21 @remuslupinsbae @maxinehufflepuffprincess @wifiatthetrainstation @unstablereader @msblacklupin @oliversaurus @jaylienpotter @remussbitch @hermionelove @izuoyarmin @themarauderswife7 @keira-kaz2y5 @lampthemacarenagod @bugg06 @a-n-1-m-3-f-r-3-4-k @darlingeels @kissmeunicornbaobei @xluansstuff @boo8008 @angelmixer

Leve a comment telling me if you wanna be tagged on Gilded Constellations

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post (reblogs are extra nice since they help me get my work to more people), also guys, I absolutely love reading your comments, so do throw them my way if you have any!

A/N: Rem is finally back yay! How are we feeling? Personally, I love cuddles, wish I could actually transport into this universe to get some od Moony's warm cuddles. Thoughts?

Raead more Marauders Fiction

314 notes · View notes

splinterclan · 1 month ago

Note

Jesus Christ, I feel like whorl needs to implement some form of bird fighting tactics :’) I’d be emotionally ruined if something happened to any of the babies. Does Pansy have some sort of post partum depression? Poor mama if so, I wish she could be happy, everyone loves the new kittens. I wish she wasn’t so hard on herself. Same with Droplet, she deserves the world. If Myrtle looses an eye due to the attack, I think a eyepatch would be a cool accessory, she’d been like a cool pirate grandma. Seriously I love your comic, I get updated every time you post and love checking in with them. They all genuinely feel fleshed out and like separate characters.

*equips them all with slingshots*

Jokes aside I knooow they need to just keep an eye out but at the same time damn birds are hard to avoid :<

I don't wanna label Pansy's emotions as anything specifically since I have not done the required research, but she def was not ready to be a mom yet. But it's done and luckily she has support to move through it. I think once things get back to more normal for her she can find her comfort zone again and feel better!

Thank you so much for liking the comic so much, it means a lot to me!!! ;V;

#txt #asks

118 notes · View notes

silverzoomies · 1 year ago

Text

Only Me

kyle spencer x reader smut

warnings: dubious consent, biting, kissing, shameless smut, undead kyle, zombie sex, zombie kink, halloween, song lyrics, dead dove: do not eat

word count: 6,205

a/n: hiiii !! halloween fic in june !! lol this one's my most bizarre fic yet probably !! i made kyle a lot more zombified than he was in the show !! if you're squeamish about corpses and wounds and stuff, i wouldn't tread any further !!

apologies for the usual: inconsistencies, characters ooc (kyle's a little more instinctive/aggressive here), clunky writing, etc etc etc

taglist: @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz (as usual, ask to be added !!)

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

A full moon shined in a bright, stunning spectacle, high above Miss Robichaux’s Academy. A striking contrast to the black skies of a particularly cool Halloween night. Shrouded in a veil of evening darkness, the old-fashioned academy emitted an otherworldly glow. From the first floor windows, flashing lights of slime green and hellish orange flickered in endless repetition.

Inside, a small group of young witches danced. Dressed in their skimpiest costumes, they moved fluidly to the beat of Oingo Boingo’s Dead Man’s Party. Blaring loudly through a large set of speakers, the tune mingled with the girls’ laughter. Meanwhile, the older women of the academy socialized near cluttered snack tables. They chatted away with each other, paying no mind to their free-spirited students.

Dead Man’s Party.

An ironic song, you thought. Given the only ‘dead’ man in the room seemed beyond confused. You wondered if he even knew what the purpose of a party was. His Frankenstein brain might’ve forgotten parties entirely. Such a concept was also ironic. Considering, when he was alive, Kyle had attended enough frat parties to keep the beer industry thriving for years at a time.

The ancestral room felt alive with energy. You stood in a corner with your back against the wall, sipping overpriced punch Myrtle Snow had prepared herself. An unamused look crossed your face, as you watched Zoe and Madison dance. Their movements were effortless and intentionally suggestive.

Between them, looking out of place and somewhat lost, was Kyle. The zombified blond was hunched over in his loose-fitting flannel shirt. And his expression spoke of someone who had no idea what was happening around him. Unlike everyone else in the room, he hadn’t worn a costume.

Poor guy. It seemed like no one had warned him ahead of time.

There was an unmistakable tension in the air, as Madison and Zoe grinded their thin figures against Kyle. The indecent movements of their dancing were almost unbearable to watch. And you couldn’t help but recoil at the sight. The girls glared at each other, trying to outdo the other in a shallow competition for Kyle’s attention.

As Kyle stood there, he kept his head tilted down. His curly, blond hair fell into his face, and his eyes were blank and empty. Kyle must have been oblivious to the girls’ intentions. You felt a pang of discomfort in your chest at the thought.

“Jeez…it’s like I’m watchin’ a car crash in real time…and I can’t look away…” You said, sipping your punch.

Queenie, dressed in a dingy, striped sweater and a Freddy Krueger cap, leaned casually against the wall next to you. Her sweater fell loose off her shoulder, leaving it bare. She sipped her punch as she laughed, her Kreuger claws resting on her hip. Oingo Boingo echoed in the background, competing with the sound of her voice as she spoke.

“Those two are a wreck if I’ve ever seen one.” She joked, shaking her head, “Somebody’s gotta get in there and save that poor guy. Dude looks miserable. ”

“How pissed do you think they’d be if I cut in?” You asked. Glancing down at the lacy hem of your dress, you toyed with it idly in thought.

The pounding music in the room seemed to pulse in time with your heartbeat. Danny Elfman’s wavering voice echoed, booming throughout the floor.

I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go

Walkin’ with a dead man, with a dead man

Your ruby red slippers twinkled on your feet. You wore an (admittedly) revealing Dorothy of Oz costume, with a blue dress lined with white lace. The skirt barely reached past your thighs, showing off your legs in thin, white stockings. You clutched a decorative picnic basket, with a plush, scottie dog sticking his head out from inside. His beady eyes shined in the party lights.

“You’d be doin’ Kyle a favor if you did. But, girl, I dunno…” Queenie pushed herself off the wall, “You know those two ain’t messin’ around. They’re feral over him. Listen, whatever you decide to do? It’s your funeral. We’ve all seen what happens when Madison loses her shit.”

Queenie sauntered off then, her hips swaying with each step. She joined Nan on the dance floor. And you let out a sigh, knocking your head against the wall. After watching Zoe and Madison’s shameful display for a few moments longer, you decided enough was enough. You pulled your phone from your basket to check the time. Only 6pm.

Gracing your ears in tune with the catchy beat of the song, Danny Elfman’s voice rang out.

Don’t run away, it’s only me

Don’t be afraid of what you can’t see

If your hunch was correct, neighborhood trick-or-treating had only just begun. And even though you and Kyle were well into adulthood, the thought of indulging in such an innocent, nostalgic activity was too enticing to resist. Halloween was a holiday wherein Kyle could blend in with the general population. And if you accompanied him, he’d finally get some reprieve from the constant objectification he was accustomed to. It was a win-win.

You waited a few more minutes, hoping the two girls would eventually tire of their petty competition. As time passed, Madison finally stumbled off in her heels. Presumably to have a smoke out back. Queenie, ever the helpful friend, pulled Zoe away for a dance. Leaving Kyle free of anyone’s clutches. Seizing your chance, you immediately stepped in. And you lead him upstairs to your room.

It took around ten minutes for the two of you to finally leave the academy for trick-or-treating.

Five minutes to patiently explain your plan to Kyle, trying your best to help him understand. And another five minutes to help him get ready, after struggling to clarify what Halloween was to begin with. You asked if he wanted to dress up in a costume.

Kyle’s only response was a simple, slurred-

“W-Woooooolf.”

He then made an awroooo sound in an adorable attempt to mimic a wolf’s howl. It was the cutest thing you’d ever seen Kyle do. And hearing him make such a precious sound instantly melted your heart.

You took the time to chat with Kyle. And you joked that if you’d known ahead of time he wanted to be a wolf, the two of you could have coordinated costumes. Perhaps you could have gone as Little Red Riding Hood, and him as the big, bad wolf. Even though you weren’t sure if Kyle understood the reference, he gave you the sweetest smile nonetheless. In his undead eyes, you saw a sparkle of lingering humanity. You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling your heart melt just a little more.

Carefully guiding Kyle to the bathroom, you brought him in front of the mirror. Using a dark, eyeliner pencil, you drew a big, black dot on the tip of his nose. Then, with a steady hand, you doodled adorable, cartoon whiskers on his cheeks.

Which, in retrospect, made him look more like a cat than a wolf.

But Kyle seemed delighted with his new appearance regardless. He held his big hands up in front of the mirror, curling his fingers into claws. Kyle faked a snarl, scrunching his nose and showing off his pink-tinted teeth. The teeth of a dead man.

To your own surprise, you managed to sneak Kyle out of the academy without a single hitch.

For the next few hours, you lead him around a local neighborhood. As the two of you made your way down the street, you marveled at the eerie decorations at every house. Politely, you approached each doorstep, excitedly proclaiming, “ Trick-or-treat! ” while holding Kyle’s hand loosely in yours.

Thankfully, nobody seemed to mind that you two were well past the necessary age for trick-or-treating.

You stopped to explain the concept of Halloween to him once more, after he struggled to understand what trick-or-treating was. He furrowed his blond brows, as though deep in thought. Kyle made a frustrated grunt in response. You couldn’t help but smile, finding his confusion…strangely endearing. Everything about him was endearing, really.

Despite his initial confusion, Kyle definitely enjoyed the candy aspect of Halloween. The treats. His opaque eyes lit up with glee, and he held his pumpkin bucket up in front of you like a fabulous prize. You cheered him on, showing off your basket overflowing with goodies.

A thick mugginess in the air felt sticky against your skin. As the hour grew later, the air shifted to a sharper, colder chill. Crisp, autumn leaves fluttered in the breeze, twirling in colorful circles along the road. The once charming decorations at every house now appeared all too creepy in the dark. Illuminated only by a combination of moonlight, and the occasional streetlight; the neighborhood appeared desolate and empty. You wrapped an arm around yourself for security and warmth.

Perhaps it was time to return to the academy before things got any spookier.

Kyle loomed in close proximity to you all night. And as the hours passed, he leaned in even closer. Part of you began to question your assumptions about him. Perhaps you had misjudged. Maybe Kyle appreciated the constant attention Zoe and Madison gave him back at the academy.

His craving for physical touch was obvious. Every time you tried to create some space between the two of you, he pressed himself against you again. It became clear then, physical intimacy was something Kyle wanted on an almost constant basis. And given his limited communication skills, you figured he had no other way of expressing such a need. He stuck to your side like glue, walking with you throughout the cold, dark neighborhood.

You were reminded of that Oingo Boingo song. Dead Man’s Party.

I'm all dressed up with nowhere to go

Walkin' with a dead man, with a dead man

Ooh-ooh, waitin' for an invitation to arrive

Ooh, walkin' with a dead man, with a dead man

Despite his proximity, Kyle’s body provided you with no warmth. You were left plagued by the nightly chill in the air. And out of nowhere, Kyle groaned, sounding displeased about… something. You didn’t know what. Worried it was your fault, you moved to give him more space. Kyle appeared even more annoyed then. He choked on words he couldn’t say. And you stopped in your tracks on the sidewalk. Gazing at him with concern in your eyes, you tried to deduce what the problem was.

“Hey, K-” You started.

Before you could ask him, Kyle reached out a hand. He stared down at you with black, cloudy eyes. Between his pale, grey lips rested a half-eaten candy bar. His fingers were covered with sticky chocolate. And he made a move to pull the collar of your low-cut dress down.

“Oh! Wh-...Kyle!! What are you doing, honey?!” You shrieked in hushed surprise.

At that moment, something must have clicked in Kyle’s Frankenstein brain. Some kind of instinctive shift.

Even though he loved his candy, chocolate wasn’t necessarily the kind of Halloween treat he wanted. He pulled the chocolate bar from his lips, tossing it aside into the grass.

“Treeeaat…” He slurred, with his pale, chapped lips coated in chocolate. Kyle tugged the front of your dress down even lower, “Tr…tr-trick…or treeeat?”

Your breasts almost popped out from the force of his strong tug. The swell of them bounced in a mesmerizing display, looking supple and smooth. Smears of chocolate stained the clean, white lace of your dress. Gasping, you backed up before Kyle could do anymore damage. You stumbled on your sparkling, ruby slippers. As you struggled to find your balance, Kyle eagerly followed. He pushed his strong body against yours, leaning down to kiss you.

“Kyle, no! N-Not that I mind, if this is what you want! But…can you at least wait until we get home, bud?” You protested, bringing a hand to his mouth to stop him.

You were fearful of any late-night passerby catching the two of you in such a compromising position. Kyle knit his brows together, put off by your rejection. You gave him a sympathetic look, and lowered your hand.

Whatever you said before, none of it registered. Kyle abruptly attacked your neck with his mouth, and you sucked in a sharp breath. His lips were frigid and cold against your skin, their rough, chapped texture scraping across your neck. Reveling in your taste, he hungrily swirled his cool, slimy tongue.

“Honey, no-...s-stop! You can’t-” You pathetically whined, patting him repeatedly on the shoulders to get his attention.

Kyle devoured your neck like a Halloween treat, sloppily tonguing your smooth, warm skin. You squirmed as he wrapped his thick arms around you tightly, pulling you closer. The entire weight of Kyle’s body pressed itself into yours. Dead weight. You lost your balance again, stumbling backwards. And without meaning to, you slipped off your feet behind a nearby lining of bushes.

Taking a tumble, Kyle came down with you. He immediately took advantage of your vulnerable position on the ground, crawling over your body. Even as you continued to protest, Kyle’s attention returned to your neck. He nipped at your skin, flicking his sticky tongue in a desperate thirst for more of you. Underneath your body, you felt dewey grass seep wetness into your dress. You squirmed again, hesitant to give in to Kyle’s reckless desire.

“Pleaaaase! Just let me-...Kyle, please, help me up, won’t you?” You begged in a desperate plea.

He groaned a throaty noise into your soft neck, and his hands began to explore your body. Fighting to maintain your dignity, as well as your modesty; you made another move to push Kyle off of you. Your hands pressed hard at his thick shoulders, but he refused to budge.

“I’m serious! If you wanna do this together, we can, okay? Just…not here! This is…it’s a neighborhood, right? What if someone sees?? Let’s just wait until we get home, please?” You insisted, “Kyle, p-

Unexpectedly, he cut you off (or shut you up, rather) with a surprise kiss.

Lips of a muted, grey hue collided with your own, more saturated ones. A kiss of life and death. Kyle’s lips were ice cold, molding effortlessly with your warmth. He tasted of a bizarre mix between cheap, dollar store chocolate and…something else you didn’t recognize. Something almost…earthy.

He was the sloppiest kisser you ever locked lips with. Prodding at your lips fiercly with his tongue, Kyle demanded entrance. When you didn’t let him in, a frustrated growl vibrated through his mouth. His hand darted down to your chest, where he tugged the front of your dress with an even stronger pull. Threatening to rip it apart, as though he knew you would protest.

You opened your mouth with a surprised squeak, scrambling to pull Kyle’s hand away.

That oozy, freezing tongue of his slithered its way past your lips like a wiggly leech. Thick and slimy in your mouth. Kyle’s kisses became filled with a wild and unrestrained passion. Even though such a messy makeout session would be off-putting to anyone else, you found yourself melting into it. Despite having no concept of restraint or consistency, Kyle’s lack of skill was somehow intoxicating. You were irresistibly drawn to his discolored, dead man tongue.

You couldn’t help but think of how you always admired the way he looked.

When he was alive, Kyle was undeniably stunning, and so gorgeous. He had one of those beautiful, sunshine smiles, and golden hair to match. But after his resurrection, he was viewed as somewhat of a monster. Since the initial work done to bring him back had been less than subpar. To the average person, Kyle looked like a walking corpse pulled straight out of Night of the Living Dead.

However, Kyle’s zombified appearance did nothing to deter you. In death, you found him attractive in about a million other, more forbidden ways. Perhaps you were a bit of a freak behind closed doors.

And now, you had the opportunity to appreciate Kyle, in all his reanimated glory. Allowing yourself to explore his bulky, undead form. Corpse-like in appearance, Kyle’s body seemed right on the cusp of decay.

Maybe you could indulge in your curiosity and unconventional attraction…for just a few minutes. A moment or two wouldn’t hurt. Kyle was obviously desperate for the attention anyway. It was almost cute, really. The way he fought so hard to fool around with you.

Yeah. A few minutes of teasing touches. And then, you’d surely head back to the academy together.

You hesitated to touch Kyle intimately at first, careful not to cross any personal boundaries.

You knew Kyle harbored strict boundaries somewhere in that Frankenstein brain of his. Misty had told both you and Zoe all about it. Though, none of you had any clue where such boundaries originated. Was Kyle somehow self conscious? Did his instincts operate on a more intense, animalistic level of fight or flight? There wasn’t any way for him to tell you, and you’d never be able to guess on your own. Best to tread lightly.

Kyle loomed over you, guzzling your lips and tongue like a hungry man starved. Raising a hand, the tips of your fingers took a careful chance. They brushed across the poorly sewn stitches in his neck. Grazing his prominent scars, you traced their irregular lining.

You were afraid he might recoil, but Kyle instantly melted into your touch. His shoulders fell slack for a moment, and he moaned a soft, little whine into your mouth. It was as if tracing the scarred etching of stitches brought him some sense of relief.

A trail of thick, gooey saliva connected your tongues, as Kyle pulled his lips from yours. He gazed down into your eyes with a soft expression. The cute dot you'd drawn on his nose was slightly smudged now, along with those kitty wolf whiskers. You noted the way his hefty form looked, illuminated by a faint blanket of warm, yellow light. The street light flickered from above, as if threatening to abandon the two of you in the dark.

You stared back into Kyle’s foggy eyes. They were somewhat empty of humanity, with black pupils blown wide. His brawny chest became exposed, as you unbuttoned the thick flannel of Kyle’s shirt. Trembling fingers felt across his pecs, your skin burning hot against Kyle’s lifeless cold. He shuddered under your touch, arching his back slightly.

“W-Waaarm.” He slurred, “Mooore…”

Patches of discoloration decorated Kyle’s broad torso. They reminded you of a tropical desert map. One in which Kyle’s pale skin was the desert sand. Portions of his flesh had turned yellow in color. Faint hues of deep purple and sea-foam blue leaked through, similar to a watercolor palette. You ran your fingers over the discolored patches of skin, feeling subtle, textural changes. Kyle’s skin was overall smooth, but slightly torn near his ribs.

“Stop me if-uh…if this hurts, okay?” You whispered in a soft tone. Kyle tilted his head, the blonde curls of his hair dangling over his face.

Morbid curiosity overcame you, as you momentarily delved deeper into Kyle’s ripped flesh. The texture of his skin was uneven, as the surrounding skin had dried out slightly. Hesitant, yet alarmingly eager, you dipped your fingers into a decaying wound close to his ribs. Keeping your eyes on Kyle’s face, you searched his expression for any signs of discomfort. Beyond the scabbed edges of his skin, your fingers found a cold, mushy cavern inside.

You felt the cold rigidity of his rib bones just beneath the surface, the dampness of his insides slimy and raw. Kyle’s breathing steadily grew labored the longer you explored him from the inside. His jaw fell slack, dark eyes rolling back in his deep sockets. After teasing the wound for a few beats longer, you pulled your digits from it. A warm blush pooled in your cheeks, and you exhaled a flustered laugh. Ashamed of yourself.

“S-Sorry, honey…” You apologized, “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Kyle whimpered in response, wildly shaking his head. A slimy stickiness lingered on the tips of your fingers. And you made a mental note to thoroughly wash your hands once you finally returned to the academy.

You explored Kyle’s peculiar body for a moment longer. Beautiful, blue veins were visible under the thin layer of his skin. You traced those veins, following their intricate, web-like patterns. Kyle’s eyes fell closed as you did. He hummed soft, submissive whines. His head occasionally jerked in sudden, instinctive motions. After opening his eyes, Kyle stared down at you with a more lax, half-lidded expression.

You noted the way his eye sockets were slightly sunken in, appearing almost skeletal. A smokey darkness surrounded his foggy, black eyes, making them pop when they widened with abrupt impatience.

Growing fed up with your slow-paced, careful touches, Kyle darted down. He returned to his original task, gnawing pink teeth against the burning flesh of your neck. Your blood pulsed under your skin, beating against his slimy tongue. You brought your hands up to his blonde curls, carding your fingers through the somewhat-ragged locks.

Kyle’s hair was clean and washed. Yet, the strands felt like those of an old, decrepit dog. Curls dangled in his face as he mouthed your neck, and Kyle sloppily licked the bruises he sucked harshly into your skin. He pulled at your skimpy outfit, tearing rotted, jagged fingernails into the cheap fabric. Exposing your bra-covered breasts, Kyle ripped the front of your dress apart in one, harsh jerk. You wrapped a hand around his wrist, fighting to pull it away before Kyle tore your bra off as well.

“WAIT! Kyle, no! You can’t, honey!! I-It’s cold out here!! And someone might see!!” You insisted, “B-Before we do that, let’s go back home first!”

You were in too deep now, that much was obvious.

He jerked his hand away from your hold, groaning in protest. Kyle brought his massive palm to your chest, curling his fingers into your bra. He ripped the garment apart, letting your tits bounce freely. Immediately upon seeing them in their lucious, supple glory, Kyle made another noise. A groggy, throaty sound dripped from his tongue, drooling cool saliva over your breasts. He didn’t hold back, dropping to swipe his sticky tongue hungrily around one of your nipples.

“T-T…T….Treeeeeeeat…” Kyle groaned, ragged over your breast.

You whimpered, your nipples immediately hardening in response to his numbing, chilly touch. Your hands dropped to Kyle’s broad shoulders again, as you attempted once more to push him away. Ruthless with desire, Kyle licked and sucked your tits, as though thirsty for the milk you couldn’t provide.

By now, Kyle was handling you a little more roughly than you preferred.

As the dull flats of Kyle’s teeth sank into your flesh, biting hard; you were beginning to second guess yourself. Kyle chomped into your smooth skin like he wanted to rip you apart and feast on your blood. You wiggled from under him, trying to shimmy away. The hand of his not occupied with your breast, darted up to your shoulder. Kyle forced you down with his palm, keeping you in place. Mesmerized by the pheromones permeating from your pretty breasts, Kyle couldn’t stop himself. He gnawed your tit even harder.

And for you, that bite crossed a line.

Imprints of Kyle’s teeth were left embedded into your skin. Weakly raising your basket, you fought Kyle off, repeatedly whacking him on the shoulders with it. Candy flew out from the basket in every direction. In the back of your mind, you mourned their loss.

No matter how much you fought, Kyle refused to budge. If anything, your protests encouraged him further. Kyle grew more frustrated, growling monstrous noises into your tits as he sucked one hard. He scraped his teeth up to your collarbone, chomping into your skin so harshly you nearly cried.

“Stoooppp!!! Please!!! Kyle, sweetheart, that hurts!!” You pathetically begged, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes, “Please stop!! It’s not good, Kyle! It’s very bad!”

He shook his head wildly with another animalistic growl, keeping you caged under his body in the wet grass. Kyle moved himself further down your squirming form, jerking the skirt of your dress up over your belly. The tiny, lace panties you wore underneath were exposed to him completely, along with a shameful, wet spot between your legs.

“Noooo! Good… v-very good …” Kyle grumbled, frustrated. He sank down between your legs, enveloping your clothed pussy with his whole mouth.

Goosebumps shot across your thighs as his cold breath met your cunt. Kyle’s teeth roughly grazed you, his slimy tongue prodding your folds through the thin fabric of your panties. You instantly panicked, kicking his shoulders with all the might you had left.

Kyle violently tore your delicate panties off, ripping the fabric at the seams and leaving you bare. Crisp, late-night air nipped your poor, defenseless pussy. Fearful that Kyle might start chomping at your cunt like a corpse in search of brains, you quickly rolled onto your belly in the grass. You crawled forward on trembling limbs, your veins pumped full of adrenaline.

“L-Let me go, Kyle! No more! We gotta get back now!! P-Please!” You cried, rushing forwards with your knees pressing into the dirt.

Kyle came charging after you on all fours, his movements similar to that of a vicious, feral predator. The panic swarming your brain heightened, surging down your spine. Your heartbeat kicked to high-speed. Scrambling to stand, you were faced with the unfortunate reality…that your legs were too shaken and weak to function.

Your thin stocks were stained with mossy green, as wet dew seeped into their fabric. Just as you made it to the sidewalk pavement, you felt the tight grasp of cold hands wrapping around your ankles. Your ruby slippers kicked frantically against Kyle’s hold. But his grip tightened around them. Kyle dragged you by your ankles behind the bush in the dark, his jagged, rotting nails sinking into your skin over your stockings and scratching holes in the fabric.

That Oingo Boingo tune stuck on repeat in your head, echoed eerily topical lyrics in your subconscious mind. Don’t run away, it’s only me

Don’t be afraid of what you can’t see

Don’t run away, it’s only me

Don’t be afraid of what you can’t see

You couldn’t hold back the terrified scream that leapt from your throat.

Kyle’s eyes flew open wide. He moved quickly, climbing over your body from behind. Reaching around to clasp a large, cold hand over your mouth, Kyle growled chilly breaths into the shell of your ear. You could feel the hard press of his sizable bulge against your ass.

You barely registered the sound of Kyle’s hushed, throaty voice shushing you, as you cried for him to stop in loud pleas. He whispered in your ear gentle, slurred reassurances…or, at least, he tried to. Kyle apologized repeatedly, mouthing your ear and neck in a more loving, yet clumsy way. Less teeth. Thank fuck for less teeth.

“S-Ssssss-...sooorry.” He mumbled slowly, “N-N…N….Neeeeed…”

Trying to calm yourself, you breathed long, deep breaths through your nose.

Realistically, you knew Kyle never intended to hurt you. And if he did, it wasn’t necessarily his fault. He was a creature who operated purely on animalistic, carnal instinct. His brain functioned at a process slower than the average person. Like Frankenstein’s monster. Of course, it should come as no surprise. If Kyle desired something as natural as sex, his thirst was bound to make him slightly more deranged.

Maybe he just hadn’t been taught otherwise.

With one of his hands clasped tightly over your mouth, Kyle brought his other to his jeans. He felt around aimlessly for the button, finding it difficult to free his cock from the constrictive denim. After a bit of agitated fumbling, Kyle finally released his hefty, undead cock from his pants. Perched in the grass on your elbows and knees, you curiously dropped your head to take a glance at his dick.

You were lucky enough to catch a quick glimpse of Kyle’s thick, bouncing cock. It was discolored like the rest of his body, and covered in vivid, blue veins. In your mind, you questioned the logistics. How was it even possible for a zombified man to get an erection?? Was it witch magic? Was witch magic really powerful enough to keep oozy, undead blood flowing through a zombie?

Kyle mounted you much like an animal in heat, guiding the fat tip of his cock to your weeping entrance.

The stark contrast between his corpse-like temperature and your own, more lively warmth shook you to your core. You gasped into Kyle’s palm, your lower-half squirming as the deathly cold, smooth length of his cock pushed its way through your searing walls. Your pleasant heat engulfed Kyle’s dick completely, and he immediately roared a guttural noise from deep in his chest.

“T-Trrrreeeeeeeeeeeeaaat!” He slurred in a broken tone, “ G-...G….Gooood treat.”

Those were the last, coherent words Kyle spoke, before carnal instinct took over his brain completely. He violently jerked his hips forward, sinking his stiff cock deeper into your pussy. The leaking, wet tip hit your cervix in a bruising pressure. You fell forward into the grass, almost losing balance on your trembling legs. Kyle released his hold on your mouth, instead raking his blunt, uneven nails down your body.

Pumping his cock through the tight squeeze of your cunt, Kyle dropped his palms to the grass. His brittle nails dug themselves so deep into the dirt.

“K-Ky-” You choked, feeling a thickness bubbling in your throat, “Kyle, please-”

The slickness of his length felt inhumanly cold inside you. Your blistering hot pussy constricted around him, grasping hold of Kyle’s cock and pulling him in deeper. He wanted so desperately to gnaw and bite you again, but he refrained from doing so. Kyle made huffy, monstrous noises as he fucked you raw and hard in the grass. Guttural, zombie-like groans echoed, ragged against your ear from behind. He carried no restraint, as he drilled you with his dick so hard and deep, it began to hurt.

Your entire body buzzed with sharp, pinpricks of overwhelming pleasure, edging so closely to pain. But somehow, you registered the ache as intoxicating. Your body couldn’t stop itself from betraying your brain’s warnings. Despite your suffering, your pussy fluttered so wet around Kyle’s cock. Hot, slick heat made it so easy for him to fuck you as hard as he desired. Allowing him to act on his unfiltered, baseless instincts.

“P-Please-...Ky-...Kyle…slow down, please-” You begged, mewling little cries.

Your soft voice only encouraged Kyle. His thrusts turned more violent and rapid, losing any consistency. Heavy balls slapped repeatedly at your hot mound, teasing your clit. Out of your control, your eyes rolled back in their sockets, as you moaned in blissful ecstasy.

Kyle’s nasty, unrelenting thrusts were so powerful in force, the overstimulation was enough to make you cum from penetration alone. Your fiery heat tightened around his pulsing cock, and your body erupted in a mind-altering onslaught of uncontrollable, orgasmic trembles. Kyle roared another guttural, monstrous sound, unable to resist sinking his blunt teeth into your neck. He wrapped an arm tightly around your middle, jerking you backwards to meet his thrusts.

“Kyle, wait!” You struggled to speak, your head dizzy and swimming. Turning your head slightly, you felt Kyle’s messy, blond hair brush the skin of your cheek, “Don’t finish inside! You have to – f-fuck – you have to pull out! You can’t cum inside me, baby!”

Your ass bounced recklessly against the hairy mound of Kyle’s pelvis. If he understood what you meant, it was clear Kyle had no intention of listening. Burying his length to the hilt in one, final, savage thrust; Kyle spilled his sticky, zombie seed deep inside your hot, living pussy.

“N-NO! KYLE, NO-” You panicked again, trying to crawl forward and out of Kyle’s grasp, “FUCK! YOU CAN’T-”

He roared his loudest noise yet, the sudden sound tearing through your eardrums. Latching a palm tightly around the back of your neck, Kyle forced you face down into the dewey grass. With your ass up and out, he fucked the last of his cum into your pussy with a near damaging force. A frigidly cold sensation pooled in the pit of your belly.

For a short moment, Kyle kept his slick cock buried inside you. Even as the length softened, he took his time before pulling himself from your cunt. And once he finally did, the thickness of his off-colored, oozy cum came spilling out of you in heavy spurts.

As it turns out, zombies cum a lot.

You shivered, sniffling as hot tears raced down your reddened cheeks. Kyle released his hold on your neck, reaching up to pet you clumsily over your hair. Behind you, you heard shuffling as he fought to tuck himself in his pants and fumbled with the button. Your knees collapsed into the grass, and you heaved rapid, frantic breaths. You couldn’t deny the way your body quivered with blissful, euphoric exhaustion.

“Kyle…for fuck’s sake…why…” You sniffled with a hiccup, lying with your cheek pressed to the grass.

Several bite marks of deep, dark violet littered your once clean skin. You rolled onto your back on the ground, your chest rising and falling with every quick breath you took. Kyle sat back on his knees, staring down at you with an expression of fearful, worried confusion. It seemed that, somehow, he didn’t understand why you were so immobile and worn out.

Kyle’s black eyes steadily trailed across every mark he left behind, all over your neck, collarbone, and breasts.

He frowned, his foggy eyes pooling with heavy tears. The whiskers and nose you’d drawn on his face earlier were smeared to high heaven, leaving black streaks on his cheeks.

Crawling over you again, Kyle gently buried his teary-eyed face in your tits. He pressed soft, cool kisses along your abused skin. Before resting his cheek on your chest. His thin, blonde curls tickled your chin.

“S-S…ssssorry… ” He mumbled through his tears. Kyle rubbed his thumb across one of the bites he left behind, making you wince, “B-Baaaad…not gooood…sorry…”

Despite his rough handling, you knew you couldn't stay mad at Kyle for very long. In a way, he'd made you feel pleasure beyond anything you ever experienced with an average, living man. And the loving kindness he carried under the surface of his monstrous exterior made you adore him. So much more than you already did.

You let out a long, tired sigh, raising a hand to gently run your fingers through Kyle's curls.

"What am I gonna do with you, huh? It's okay, honey. It hurt a little bit, but...I'm fine. Just..." You breathed an exhausted laugh, wincing as you tried to move, "Let's try to teach you a little restraint next time, okay?"

If you thought about it logically, there was no possible way you could actually get pregnant from a reanimated corpse, right? His swimmers were probably dead as doornails. Regardless, you felt a little squeamish knowing loads of gooey, zombie spunk resided inside you. You shivered at the thought, shaking your head.

Yeah, you definitely needed a long, hot shower. Asap.

"Can we please go home now, Kyle?" You begged, weakly sitting up on your elbows.

Peering up at you through adorable, innocent, dark eyes, Kyle blinked slowly. He nodded, pushing himself quickly off your body.

"H-Hhhhhh-....Hoooome..." He mumbled, politely holding out a hand to help you up.

You found yourself too incapacitated to stand. After such a raw, violent fucking, your body felt on the brink of death. Consumed by exhaustion, it was as though you'd become the living corpse. Undead and barely functional. Falling into the grass on your back, you groaned, burdened by a deep ache in your bones.

Catching on to your pained, tuckered-out state, Kyle reached down. He wrapped his thick arms around your body, effortlessly lifting you up over his shoulder. It was a ridiculously careless way for him to carry you, but you couldn't find it in yourself to complain.

In one hand, Kyle held his pumpkin bucket and your basket, both slightly empty of the candy they once held. With your limp body lying slump over his shoulder, he used his other hand to keep your skirt pinned over your butt. Nice of him to consider your decency.

In the empty, desolate cold of a moonlit, Halloween night; Kyle carried you all the way back to the academy.

And the whole way, as you hung limp over his shoulder in a fucked-out daze...you hummed a song softly to yourself.

Oingo Boingo kept looping endlessly in your head, like a persistent parasite.

I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go

Walking with a dead man over my shoulder

I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go

Walking with a dead man over my shoulder

#kyle spencer x reader #kyle spencer x you #kyle spencer x y/n #smut #txt #ahs

392 notes · View notes