#since i think this is revealed in the main summary of the game

[kasagia]

Skin and bones

Pairing: Halbrand/Annatar/We know who x fem!elf! reader Summary: Ever since Galadriel revealed Halbrand's true identity, you've been having some very strange dreams… dreams that aren't the innocent figments of your imagination you thought they were. Warning: I HAVEN'T WATCHED THE RINGS OF POWER. All my knowledge is based on fanfics, short scenes posted on yt and uncle google. I just couldn't get this guy out of my mind... And I don't regret anything. Inspired by: David Kushner - "Skin and bones" Halbrand's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

"Y/N…" A cold shiver runs down your spine as you feel HIS hot, quiet, velvety whisper in your ear. You keep your eyes tightly closed, not wanting to see what image your mind, tired from today's meetings, has put before you this time.

For days now, your imagination had been tormenting you with strange dreams. Dreams in which you were haunted by him.

Halbrand.

You avoided speaking his true name. Somehow, the face of the one you should have hated with all your heart did not match the face of the one who had spent so many weeks by your and Galadriel's side.

And it scared you immensely. So much so that you weren't sure you could pretend to the light elf that you were haunted by the shadows of your past.

Galardiel once told you that to know true light, one must touch the darkness. But what do you do when that darkness becomes more attractive than light? What do you do to resist that magnetism? How do you enjoy the glow of pure light on your skin again when you still have spots of darkness on you in the shape of HIS fingerprints?

"Y/N." Another whisper, another brush of warm air against your cool skin, this time on your neck. Goosebumps rise up your spine, your hand shakes uncontrollably, trying to desperatly grasp something you can't see. "Let go. Just let go. I'm waiting here for you. With open arms, mime írima kal (my lovely light)."

The feathery touch of HIS lips against your earlobe sends a shiver through your body. Even though you are in complete darkness, you are perfectly aware that he is near, that his presence is right next to you.

Physically you could be miles away from each other but spiritually... spiritually he has made sure that he will haunt you every night.

"You miss me. You miss the feeling of power I gave you. The darkness you could hide in, when you were too tired of playing the hero no one appreciates as they should. Just as I miss your light. Your laugh. Your mind. Your lips. Your body..." His lips move with each sentence down your cheek and to your neck, leaving a gentle kiss as if he was appreciating your skin and paid tribute to it.

He was right. You missed this. Him. He was addictive. And like any addiction, you should cut yourself off before it goes too far... but hasn't it gone too far already?

"Do you think you can hide from me? That any elven friend of yours could disrupt my vision of you? That I would stop watching you at night in the darkness of your chambers, waiting for the moment when you finally realize that the cold you feel is caused by my lack of physical presence with you? Tell me, my beautiful, stubborn elf, when will you realize that the warmth you long for is found in my darkness and not in the light of your golden sunlight?"

You gasp as HE suddenly grabs you by the neck and uses his fingertips to force you to turn your head towards him. His mouth attacks yours with a huge force of possessiveness, anger, frustration, lust, as if he were going to conquer you by using only his soft lips and a silver-tongue trained over the centuries he spend on seducing others to his will.

And you promised yourself that you wouldn't be the next victim of his games and manipulation.

That's why you let him kiss you. Not because you enjoy it and miss the feeling of his lips on yours. You tangle your hands in his hair, shivering as you feel the cold metal of his spiked crown against the pads of your fingers.

You managed to let his guard down, letting his tongue tangle with yours in a familiar, passionate dance you used to indulge in when you knew him not as a Dark Lord but as a mere blacksmith. An electric jolt runs through you, stealing all the air from your lungs and making your mind cloud with lust—but not strong enough to make you completely forget about your plan.

Before he can realise it, you bite his lower lip and push him away from you. You summon all your power that he hasn't timed in your sleep and push him out of your unconscious mind. You can hear his loud growl of rage and the clang of his metal armour against the rocks as you fall into nothingness.

A loud thud echoes through the room you and Galadriel have rented as you fall from the small bed onto the wooden floor. You groan, propping yourself up on your elbows and cursing under your breath as you wake up from yet another dream HE has taken over.

"Another one? Which one is it this week? Third?" You sigh at the question from the elf sitting on the bed across the small tavern room. You nod reluctantly and stand up, dusting off the dust and dirt from the floor.

"I'm not counting. I lost count about a two months ago anyway." You mumble, ignoring the fact that these dreams started much earlier. You turn your back to her, hiding the blush that blooms on your cheeks as you remember how… naughty your dreams were.

Before you realized that your… night visions weren't just yours, you and he… were doing all sorts of things. Most of them weren't really things you could speak about out loud. And as much as you're ashamed of them, you have to admit they were the best nights of sleep you've had since… you found out the truth about him.

"I keep wondering how he creates this connection with you? It's a bridge that shouldn't be created without… the willingness of both sides."

“It’s Sauron.” You reply, making sure to pronounce his name with just the right amount of disgust in your voice. "He has powers that allow him to break the rules. You know that."

"Still… they shouldn't be that strong."

"Are you suggesting something, Galadriel? Do you think I would really seek him out willingly? He has deceived us. He has deceived you and me. He wants to destroy Middle-earth, do you think I would willingly seek contact with him for any other purpose than to finally kill him?"

Your accusatory tone comes out a little stronger than you intended. You wrap your arms around yourself and take a few calming breaths, trying to calm the anger boiling inside you.

"I trust you. If I trust anyone, it's you, Y/N. I'm not your enemy here." She responds calmly and walks over to you. She cups your cheeks in her hands and rests her forehead against yours.

"I am highly aware." You respond and place your hands on the sides of her neck. "I'm just... tired. That's all." You sigh and rest your chin on her shoulder, snuggling into her.

You hold each other like that until she gently pulls away from you. She grabs your hands and looks you in the eyes.

"We all are. War is coming. Darkness is descending upon more of our lands. But together we will prevail. Sun and moon. We must work together if we are about to defeat him and Morgoth." Galadriel spoke, tightening her grip on your hands.

"I know." You mumble and shake your head. You remove your hands from her grip and turn to face the window, watching the sun slowly rise. “Which doesn’t mean he won’t see it coming. Because he will. We have to move faster, think five step ahead than he does if we want the light to break through his army of darkness.” You say not turning to face her since you're too afraid of what she'll find in your eyes. Galadriel sighs but doesn't try to catch your attention anymore.

"I guess we won't get any more sleep tonight. Get ready. I'll go find Erlond." She looks at you a little longer, her gaze burning on your back, but you stubbornly stare out at the valleys lit by the glow of the sun breaking through the morning mist, not yet feeling ready to face what is outside.

You breathe a sigh of relief as the door closes behind her. You turn one of the rings forged by HIM, which you have placed on your necklace, in your hands, quietly wondering if you should really do what you were about to do. But since he's decided to play dirty against you for weeks... you might as well start returning his little blows, too.

You close your eyes and place the ring on your finger. You hold your breath as the familiar surge of power makes your blood pump a little harder and your eyes sharpen to your surroundings. The outlines of the valleys in the distance become much clearer, and you can almost smell the forest that lies miles away.

You know he can sense where you are if you let him. So you take a little risk and remove the protective shield that keeps you away from him. And Sauron bursts through your slightly ajar door as if into a rabbit hole.

"If you're out there somewhere… if you can hear me… know that you've given me enough darkness to rip your black heart from your chest without blinking, mime melin cotumo."

Maybe calling him your dear enemy wasn't the best thing to end your threat, but the only thing that could leave your lips when you addressed him were such nicknames. Never the names you knew him by. Especially the name under which he hid when you so naively gave him part of your heart.

"Are you, Y/N?"

His whispered question echoes through the empty room. You immediately throw him out and slam the door on his ghostly presence, blocking his vision of you again. You want to celebrate this small victory over him, showing him that you are still in control, but you both know it's just an illusion. An illusion you're desperately trying to fall for. Unfortunately, you guess you're not as good at them as he is.

"I don't like him." You say to Galadriel, eyeing Annatar carefully.

You held little Celebrían in your arms and watched as Celeborn, Celebrimbor, and Annatar chatted in the distance, enjoying the party Celebrimbor had thrown for your arrival.

"He is… quiet around us. But that doesn't mean we have to be hostile towards him right away. We can't be overly suspicious." Galadriel says and takes her daughter from you, who begins to cry quietly. You sigh, looking at the child in her arms.

"In these times we can be as suspicious as we want, Galadriel. Middle-earth is even more divided; we elves do not have such a solid, strong united front. If Sauron decides to attack with his orcs, they will crush us one by one. We must act, not be stuck in pointless parties."

"Parties are also part of diplomacy. I'm off to melt the hearts of the ladies of other lands with this sweet little bundle. Try not to spit venom at others. We need allies, as you well noticed." And with that, she leaves you to drown your bitter thoughts in a glass of wine completely alone.

You snort, not paying attention to what's going on around you. The ring that hangs around your neck under your clothes burns your skin mercilessly as you try with all your might to push away the memories of the nap you took after arriving.

Warm, black furs clung to you as you slept soundly in your soft bed. In the background, you could hear the crackling of the fire burning in the fireplace. You were tucked into warm pillows and blankets, the tip of your nose exposed to the cool air outside, being the only thing that was bothering you from resting in your bed.

After a while it turned out that it wasn't just one thing that was supposed to bother you.

You gasp as a strong arm suddenly wraps around your waist. The blankets are lifted, and the cool air assaults your skin, sending goosebumps up your spine. A moment later, you feel yourself pressed against someone's bare, muscular chest.

"Is my queen comfortable enough?" He whispers teasingly in your ear and nuzzles your temple, tightening his grip on you as you try to squirm out of his arms. But he doesn't give you that chance.

He grabs both of your wrists and presses them to your chest as he straddles you. Black fur clings to his back, the only covering he's wearing.

"Do you intend to defile me in your dreams when in reality you cannot lay even the smallest fingertip upon me? You grow more pathetic with the passing centuries." You growl at him angrily, kicking beneath him and trying to break free from his grip.

"You will beg for my touch. I will make your cries heard throughout all the Middle-Earth." He murmurs a promise against your lips and leans down, capturing your lips in an aggressive, passionate kiss that sets every fiber of your being on fire.

The surroundings around you change rapidly. Suddenly, you are completely alone in a black and gold throne room. The only source of light is the rays reflected off a golden throne engraved with a sun.

You glance around frantically, searching for him and a weapon you could use against him. You take a few steps back, heading unconsciously toward the two thrones on the dais. You gasp as your foot touches the tiled mechanism beneath you.

The throne room begins to change, darkness giving way to light, the black marble turning white. But the entire chamber, instead of being divided in half by two colours, blends into grey. The golden throne turns white, and the black as night one becomes a lighter shade of black, almost greige. You turn your face to the landscape outside the window and gasp at what you see.

All of Middle-earth. Divided, but still... a coherent whole. Each of the lands was arranged so as to separate races that got in each other's way, where conflict could arise. The lands of the Orcs were in a barren wasteland, where life could not have arisen anyway, but they made their kingdom on it. All separated from each other by walls of mountains so high that even from the height where the palace was located, it was difficult to see the top of their mountains and the paths of the passes.

You shiver as the heavy, cool metal of the crown settles against your temples. He quickly grabs your shoulders and digs his fingers into you. He holds you against him, forcing you to stare at the land before you, a land you barely recognise anymore.

"We could have that. All of that. I would place a crown on your head, make them all bow to you. Make them bow to us. I would heal Middle-earth of strife and war, make them all live in harmony in their own worlds."

"Would you confine them within the boundaries of their lands? What if they run out of space? Would you move mountains? Would you remake the world? You won't fix them this way; you can't avoid wars and bloodshed. Who do you think you are to decide how the world is suspposed to look like?" You ask him angrily, turning in his arms.

You bravely hold Halbrand’s watchful gaze as he analyses your words carefully, probably thinking of ways to make you join his side, ways to make you see his case in a completely different light.

And you hope you'll have the self-control to reject every single one of them - every little tempting suggestion of the future he wants to show you.

"Amil! (Mommy!)" The joyful cry of a child and the dull thud of tiny feet hitting the floor later are the only warning you get before something small pounces on your legs.

You stubbornly don't look down, but into the eyes of the man in front of you, because you know that once your eyes land on the little projection of a child he wants to show you, you'll be haunted for the rest of your life by the image of what you could have had with him.

“You won't even look at our son, Y/N?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you, daring you to show him how much you don’t care or care about the future he has to offer you.

So you gather all the strength you have inside you and lean down to take the little boy into your arms. He mumbles something, playing with the necklace around your neck.

The boy has his dark hair. And your eyes. And he's too damn cute for you to ever forget the vision he shows you, that he created to torture you forever.

"How long would it take you to instill your dark, poisonous thoughts in him?" You ask with a trembling voice, giving him a look full of pain and dismay.

"I've told you many times, mime melin hon. With you by my side I would have no darkness within me." He mumbles and reaches up to stroke your cheek with the pad of his thumb. "I will make you mine. Even if it was the last thing I would do. With or without your consent, I will bind you to me and make you who you were always meant to be: My queen."

You shiver as he places a tender kiss on your forehead. You hold back a broken sob as the weight of the baby on your hip begins to fade and his touch becomes just a hazy memory as you wake from this beautiful and terrifying dream.

“Can you do me the great honour of dancing with you, my lady?” You shiver when you suddenly hear someone's voice next to you. You turn around and barely keep a grimace from forming on your face when the platinum hair of the hated elf catches your eye.

"Lord Annatar. I thought you weren't dancing tonight?" You say in a forced, pleasant tone of voice and nod towards the elf whose invitation to dance he declined. He becomes embarrassed at this and clears his throat awkwardly.

"I simply have been saving my first dance in the hope that my lady of the sun would consent to grace me with it." You present him with your practiced smile, internally cursing him for being so thoughtful with his choice of words. Refusing him would be like spitting in his face - something Galadriel would clearly disapprove of.

"How could I be so cruel in this situation and refuse you, Lord of Gifts?" You tease him flirtatiously, seeing an opportunity in his obvious little affection, and offer him your hand.

You tremble as an electric shiver suddenly runs through you. The strange reaction to his closeness makes your brain buzz with thoughts. Especially when the ring hidden under the material of your dress begins to heat up.

"I may be… but right now I feel like I've received the greatest gift from you, my lady." He says, placing a soft kiss on the top of your hand. He confidently leads you onto the dance floor and pulls you close, wrapping his arm around your waist and being a little too close than was required for this particular dance.

His closeness overwhelms you. Not in a positive way. He seems suspiciously too familiar. Your body doesn't react to him as to a stranger; on the contrary, you immerse yourself in his touch as if it were familiar, comforting. You sense that something is wrong, but you can't say what yet.

"Do you like the rings we've been forging lately? Galadriel probably won't be too keen on his... idea."

"Because he follows in Sauron's footsteps. Perhaps we can dissuade him from this path. Together." You see his jaw tense slightly at your words. His grip on you tightens a little and he seems... flustered.

You narrow your eyes at him slightly, trying to understand his reaction, as well as why with every little touch he makes the ring on your chest burns like it's on fire.

"I truly believe we would be a great unit, úrin-o i world." You tremble when he calls you the sun of the world just as you tremble when he places his hands on your hips and lifts you.

He's in no hurry to put you down. It's as if he was deliberately prolonging this moment, and you let yourself be caught in the hypnotized state that his eyes bring you to.

For a moment, nothing exists except the two of you. It's just you and him. The dancing couples swirling around you momentarily become a blur.

You gasp when, for a moment, instead of Annatar's face, you see Halbrand. His mesmerising blue eyes pierce through you, making it all you can do to lean closer to him.

Your vision ends the moment one of the couples crashes into you. You land awkwardly on Annatar's chest, only his arms keeping you from falling. The couple apologizes and he just nods, pulling the two of you to the sidelines to a more secluded place.

You sigh, staring at him, your breathing heavy, not from the exertion of the dance, but from what you saw when you danced with him. Or rather, who.

"What are you?" You ask suspiciously, but he raises a surprised eyebrow at you, as if your sudden hostility was unfounded.

"You know who I am. Don't you, my Lady of the Sun?" You swallow hard at his question, but before you can answer him, Galadriel steps between you and him. A very angry and irritated Galadriel.

"He is of an unsound mind. How can he ignore what is so obvious? No one who follows the path that Sauron trod can call himself anything but his ally. I am leaving first thing in the morning. We cannot waste time while he is somewhere nearby, preparing an army against us."

"Perhaps you are giving him too much thought, my lady?" Annatar makes a sarcastic remark, but Galadriel ignores him and walks furiously away from the two of you, not even waiting for her husband, who has just reached the three of you.

"Galadriel..." You call out to her but she ignores you. "Galadriel!" Celeborn nods apologetically and follows the elf with the child in his arms. You stand in shock in the middle of the room and stare at the leaving elves.

"I don't blame them. You know what they're talking about... and about who they're talking." Annatar says, nodding at Celebrimbor. He stands alone in the corner, looking around nervously. "It would be best if you followed your lady." He advises you like a nasty snake that coils around your leg and whispers unwanted things in your ear.

You flinch and turn so you can fully look at him. He liked to play games. So he'll get one from you. You won't leave this palace without a promise from Celebrimbor to join you in case... if HE tries to attack.

Galadriel wanted to resort to desperate measures—she wanted to warn Adar that Sauron lived and wanted to use orcs in his plan to change Middle-earth. If you were to choose allies, you would rather heal the mind of an elf in whom you saw even a shred of light.

"I am my own lady. I do not have to follow anyone. Besides, I think you could use some help here, dear Annatar." You reply with a sweet smile. You see his jaw tense a little at your words. He clearly didn't want you around - that's why you had to stay here and see what the Lord of Gifts - the supposed envoy of the Valar was really doing in Eregion.

"Hm... that would be an honour to have you as our guest, my lady."

He says, smiling mysteriously at you. A shiver runs down your spine, and you already know that this won't be as much fun for you as it will be for him.

As if on cue, you drift off into blissful, dark unconsciousness.

"Fighting by your side… I felt like I could hold onto that feeling. Bind it in my very being."

"I felt it to." You mumble, staring at Halbrand's slightly bruised and scratched face.

You often had dreams like that. Flashbacks of past events. Sometimes they were real, and sometimes he was just playing with you in dreamland again, reenacting past events and laughing in your face, mocking you as you relived the same thing.

So I guess nothing has changed… if, knowing who I am, you still kiss me with such burning passion, my sunshine.

Cheap line. You managed to punch him for it many times. But that only seems to make him more cocky. So you stopped and instead looked for some way to get out of these dreams.

But now, as he leaned down and kissed you as sweetly as he had before... you could do nothing but moan and grab his hair in your fist as you pressed yourself against him, hating every bit of armour that covered your bodies and was separating you from him.

"The Valar must have spent aeons crafting those raspberry-sweet lips." He mumbles against your lips and cups your cheek in his hand. He pushes you back gently, your back pressing against the tree trunk you were sitting on.

You pretend you didn't notice that that little comment never came out of his mouth back then, and you take advantage of his moment of distraction. You take out your dagger and press it to his neck, pushing him away from you.

He needs a moment to process what happened. He chuckles raggedly and shakes his head slightly—just enough so that your blade doesn't even scratch his skin.

"What gave me away?"

"Sweet lips?" You mock him, pinning him against the rough tree trunk.

"I tried to be romantic with you, my beloved nemesis. Almost the same as that Lord of Gifts of yours, wasn't it?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you. The cocky smirk doesn't leave his face even as you straddle him with the blade at his neck. You want to pierce all of his arteries, but his comment about Annatara catches your attention more than the murderous urge he's inspired in you.

"Jealous?"

"Intrigued. Do you like him?" He corrects you and asks a question that makes you want to laugh. As if there was anyone else besides him who could hold your attention for longer…

"Are you afraid that it will take your place as the worst, most venomous snake I have ever encountered?"

"Oh please… we both know that's not the only thing I'm best at. I remember one night perfectly, when…" You press the metal of the blade to his neck and draw blood from him. A black stream runs down his skin, soaking into the tree trunk, which instantly rots. "I understand. You want to be the one to dominate today?"

You snort in frustration at him and push yourself away from him. You take a few steps away from him and watch him closely as he slowly stands up and catches up with you.

"Only if you let me plunge my blade into your black, cold heart."

"Only if you acknowledge the fact that it beats only for you." He whispers and gently cups your cheek with his hand. You tremble, unable to move away from him or make any movement except to stare at him. Anger and something else—a feeling you're terrified to admit to—boil inside you like crazy. And that's all because of him.

"As if you could love anyone but yourself." You answer shakily as he leans toward you. He kisses you again, more gently, more tenderly.

He lifts your chin with two fingers, demanding full access to your mouth, as if the way he kisses you is to prove to you that he is capable of love—that he is capable of giving himself over to a mad passion that he cannot control, as if you were truly his lady.

And it is out of fear that he will manage to squeeze out of you that little challenge that he so desires that you reach for the dagger you had abandoned earlier and brutally plunge it into your heart, bypassing the plates of your armor.

You gasp, tearing yourself out of the dream he has entangled you in, but only to find yourself in a real nightmare.

You look around in panic as you see only orcs above you. The dead body of a dark elf is being torn apart by them, as if they were performing some kind of ritual over the dead. They are talking to each other in the black language, clearly too distracted to pay much attention to you.

You reach out for their abandoned weapon beside you, but you can't move much. You groan as a foot steps on your wrist, hard enough to pin your hand in place but gentle enough not to break or crush your bone.

You lift your head and bite your lip, drawing blood when you see who is standing over you.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, my sweet nemesis." Annatar says and nods to the two orcs closest to you. They walk over and hold you by the arms, lifting you to your feet.

"Sauron." You snap at him furiously, putting as much venom and hatred as you can into saying his real name.

"Hello, darling. Many years, centuries even, but it still seems like one day, right?" He mockingly responds to your seething fury. You watch him closely and freeze when you see that he holds not only his crown in his hand but Galadriel's ring as well.

He had two of the three forged for the elves. The last one... hung around your neck. And he could have taken it anytime he wanted. But he would have to pry it off your dead body if he really wanted it.

"You were more handsome as a brunette." You spit insults at him, trying to stay as calm as you can as he begins to walk forward. The orcs lead you right next to him.

"I can transform back into Halbrand just for you. Would you prefer that, my lady?" You press your lips together in a thin line, about to answer him, but he's already using his powers, and before you can do anything, Halbrand appears before your eyes.

You turn your gaze away from him and try to focus on the burning desire to draw some blood that the orcs' touch on you inspires as they lead you toward what looks like a camp.

"I'd rather have you rotted in Mordor."

"Ahh… such ugly words on such a joyous day? After all, you don't get married every day, do you?" He asks casually, too excited for your liking; if the orcs weren't forcing you towards the large tent, you would have stopped dead in your tracks and stared at the back of his head in complete shock.

"Married?" You repeat his words stupidly. The orcs hand you to him after you enter the large tent and quickly flee at their lord's beck and call. Halbrand... Sauron sets his crown down at the foot of the makeshift bed and turns to regard you, a huge, cocky grin on his face that you once found sexy. In the current situation, it only irritated you more.

"I promised you I would make you a queen. My queen. I have a crown, an army, and land. The only thing that is missing is you by my side—exactly as the Valar planned." He’s been explaining this to you for the umpteenth time, as if you were a carefree child to whom he had to explain something in a simple, banal way. You clench your fists and take one deep, calming breath.

"I'd rather die."

"No, you don't. Don't blaspheme like that. We both know that's what you want. I'm only doing you a favour by taking away your free will, giving you the illusion that I'm forcing you to do this against your will, so you don't have to feel guilty about acting on your heart's desires." He answers confidently, stubbornly, in a tone you knew—a tone he had used a thousand times when negotiating with kings, queens, and nobles.

Back then, when you thought he was just a man, you were charmed by his chearism, his self-confidence, and his unwavering actions. Now you saw how dangerous that was.

"You don't know my heart's desires." You whisper as he stops in front of you. But he doesn't move to touch you, does nothing but stand there and watch you.

You want to curse him for turning back into Halbrand and for showing you this illusion. It was much easier for you to reject Annatar than him... ironic, since it was Halbrand that betrayed you more than any other being.

"Another lie. I think you've gotten a lot better at it than I have in my absence, my dear sunshine."

You snort when he calls you that. The moment you open your mouth to answer, he leans in and steals your kiss and your breath. He pulls you to him by the material of your dress and perfectly ignores any thumps in your chest you give him. You jerk against his grip, bite his lip, and do everything to pull away from him. But he doesn't let go. Not until you're gasping for air and your lips are swollen, your clothes and hair a mess just like all of you.

"You know... I am not surprised you lied to me all this time. I mean... living for so long can trick your mind. You probably don't know your true self anymore, do you? When was the last time someone called you by your true name? Not with insult or fear, but with affection, maybe even sympathy?"

"Why? Want to change that, I úrin -o mime coiv- (the sun of my life)?" He asks, slowly pulling away from you. You ignore your instincts to follow his touch and stand frozen in place as he walks over to his abandoned crown.

"Are you just going to rule them? In the hopes that they won't kill you again? That I won't convince them to do so?"

"Fear is a powerful ally. And something tells me you'd rather have me alive than dead." He answers calmly and places his crown on your head. You frown as the cool metal settles on your temple.

You let him play with you for a moment and treat you like a doll he can do anything to. You waited for the perfect moment to attack, to throw him off balance. You wouldn't give in to him without a fight. Not when you still had at least a shred of strength to resist the darkness calling out to you.

"Not as powerful ally as love." Your response makes him more thoughtful. He stares at you, contemplating the sight of you in his crown, as if trying to forever engrave the image in his mind… to bind it to his very being.

"Indeed. But you either have one of them." He nods and runs his fingertips over your exposed shoulder. You shiver as he grazes the metal of your necklace.

"And what did you want? From me?" You see him soften noticeably at your question. Something like affection… maybe even tenderness or love appears in his eyes as he moves his hand to your neck, cupping it gently.

"You know my heart's desire, Y/N. Just as I know yours." He mumbles your name barely audible and leans in closer to you. You shiver as his bearded cheek brushes against yours, his soft lips caressing your earlobe as he whispers: "I don't have to say it out loud for you to know it."

"No… you don't have to." You respond and cup his cheek in your hand. He freezes at the sudden display of affection from you and involuntarily buries his face in your palm, closing his eyes. You lean down and press a small kiss to his cheek. He sighs tiredly, as if he had travelled a truly polynomial distance, and allows himself to melt in your touch. "Because I'd rather cut your tongue out than listen to another lie from you."

Before he can react, you're already reaching for his dagger. You press it to his neck, but he shakes off your little seduction and pushes you away from him roughly. You fall with the yak onto the mattress behind you, the crown falling off your head with a clatter to the floor as you stare at him intently, both of you aiming your blades at each other.

"In some races dagger is considered as one of the love's language." She mocks you, wiping the black blood off his neck with her free hand. He licks it off—a demonstration at which you hold your breath for a moment. Bloody bastard.

"I always preferred to consider it death's language." You respond and lunge at him again. He blocks your blade with his own and grabs your arm. You hiss at the hard, painful swipe of his fingers against your skin as he leans toward you, giving you one of his long, enigmatic, dark stares.

"You know what the difference is between me and them, Y/N? They fear you, what you can do, the power you wield with such grace, like it's nothing. But I'm willing to burn in the light of your sun if it means having you by my side."

"Rather, if it means gaining that power for yourself." You growl and kick him. He falls on his back in surprise at your strength, which you take advantage of and run forward—straight to the exit of the tent.

You run through the camp and quickly take the ring from your neck. You put it on your finger and, using the power it gives you, cast illusions on yourself, becoming invisible to the orcs. You hear Halb... Sauron's shouts behind you, ordering the orcs to find you and bring you alive to him. He himself gives chase through the forest. And you have to admit that he is not so far from you.

You run as long as your legs give you strength. You stop in some clearing with a small stream. You try to find a safe hiding place, hide, and wait out the mad pursuit. And just when you think you've made it, he emerges from behind the trees.

"Y/N! I know you are here! I can feel you! I will always..." He pauses, his voice shaking, and you realise this is the second time you've seen him so... vulnerable and open. It's a dangerous reaction from him. Either it's real... or he's using it as a card in his game to win yet another game he's playing with you. "I would make you a queen. In a heartbeat. You don't have to do anything. Just come with me."

And you really wish it were that simple. But you don't know if you could look at yourself in the mirror if you just so blatantly betrayed them and everything you know for… him and his lies. As beautiful and tempting as they were.

"Queen of slaves like you!" You scream, comming out from your hidding place and attack him.

"Yes! I am a slave! I am a slave to you, Y/N. At least I have the courage to admit it to myself and to you. And you, my queen?" He says each sentence every time your blades strike each other with a metallic clang.

"Don't forget about Mogoth, my king." You mock him and hit him more and more aggressively, each of your blows a precise attack on him.

"You're going to bind to me. Willingly or not, and I will relish every moment of it." He growls and finally knocks the blade out of your hand, and he grabs your wrists, twisting your arms behind you and pressing your back against his chest, the blade at your neck gently teasing your skin, as do his lips against your temple. "Let go. Just let go. I know you are tired. Let me help you. Let me carry for you all your worries and the hatred of the Middle-earth. Let me make you my queen. Heal this world with me."

"Only if you will made ma a crown from your skin and bones." You gasp, fighting his grip, trying to twist from the iron grip his arms have on you, but it's not as easy as it might seem. He pins you to the ground, straddling you, and stares at you, breathing heavily.

"I will wrap you in them, if that's what I need to keep you at my side!"

His cry echoes through the empty clearing. For a moment, you stare at each other, not making a move. The sound of the stream around you is the only other song playing in accompaniment to your heavy heartbeat, which you can hear in the deafening emptiness that surrounds you. The world stops. Again, when you're close to him.

"I did not desire power as much as I desire you. You hurt me more than Morgoth ever did; you poison me more than the darkness. I think of you every morning, afternoon, and night. You are like a poison that I cannot draw from myself. You are the light that blinds me, that destroys me, but I cling to it like a child in the dark. Even though the darkness has been a much longer and more loyal companion to me than you." He mumbles, pressing wild kisses to your face.

You moan as his lips and rough beard abuse your neck worse than the blade he had brought to you moments ago, which he had driven into the ground beside you. You had nothing. No weapon to attack him with, to protect yourself from his sweet lips and the burning touch that stirred desires so shameful and so familiar in you.

"A pathological liar." You gasp as he hastily undoes your dress. But you do nothing to stop him. You can't anymore.

You feel exhausted, both mentally and physically, all the running away from him, all the fighting with him. Maybe you really were a lost cause; maybe you were always meant to blend with his darkness and try to balance it with your light. You don't know that. What you do know is that he feels too good against you for you to fight him any longer.

"Both of us. But I'm the only one here who doesn't deceive myself."

"I'd rather deceive myself than allow myself to think that I could desire someone like you." And it's awful that as you say that, you reach for him and help to undress him.

You were only proving that you really were a terrible liar and hypocrite. But how long could you hold back from touching the darkness that called out to you so sweetly?

"We both know this is much more than simple lust." He whispers, stroking your hair tenderly and pressing his lips to your forehead. His hands roam your exposed body, caressing every little part of you. And if you concentrate hard enough, you can forget for a moment who he really is—you can only see Halbrand and not HIM. "Tell me… what's it like to want to simultaneously pierce me with a sword, burn me at the stake, and cherish me in the privacy of your chambers, my dear sun?"

"Maddening." You whisper shakily, admitting what you feel.

A single tear rolls down your cheek—a tear that he quickly licks from you. He groans at the sweet-salty feeling of your tears and holds you tightly with his one arm as the other slowly begins to toy with your most sensitive place, preparing you for complete failure and defeat.

All you can feel is blissful pleasure as the darkness is touching you.

And just when he is about to bring you great pleasure, when he is about to unite the two of you as one after so long, he stops completely. You fidget, toss, and turn, seeking renewed contact with him that he does not grant you.

"I'll come for you. In one form or another. I'll make you my queen, whether you want me to or not. I may be a fraud, Y/N, but I don't have the strength to deceive myself. You'll understand when you will be my age. And I'll wait for that. I will wait for you to realise that I am the only one who sees you, accepts you, and adores you as you truly are. All you have to do is call for me." You almost cry in frustration as he pulls away from you, leaving only a ghostly touch on your skin as he continues to hold your wrists. "The sun is also having an eclipse, Y/N. I am your eclipse. And you will beg me to give you my darkness."

He places one last kiss on your forehead and then disappears. You sigh, looking around you, and realise with a shiver that he was never really there.

He tricked you. He connected with you through the ring you still wore on your finger and entered your mind as another illusion. You cry, your hand shakily pressed to your mouth as you try to keep from making any sound for fear that he and the orcs might still be nearby and sense you.

You bite your fingers as a pitiful cry wants to escape your lips; it starts as your mouth forms a cry of his name, but at the last moment you stop yourself. You grit your teeth and stand up from the ground. You dust off your dress and look around you.

The rising sun illuminates your face, but you no longer feel the familiar warmth spreading throughout your body as you greet the morning light. You feel emptyness. A festering, burning emptiness. And the visible touch of HIS lips on your neck...

Sauron may have defeated you in your dreams and mind, but when it came to duels, when you faced each other in your own skin and bones, he lost. In the crucial moments, when he was about to make you his, you managed to slip away from him. You only fear how long you will be able to do so.

Especially since he has robbed you of all joy in the light and awakened a lust for the darkness you have touched with him...

And as you stared at the rising sun, you already knew that there would be no salvation for you, nothing that would make you forget about the electric thrill you felt every time you embraced the darkness with him.

Halbrand, Sauron, Annatar, whatever form he took, you were drawn to him. And you could either die, try to fight it, or accept it and try to save the little bit of light that was left in both of you. You didn't believe that after all the darkness he'd poured into you, he wouldn't get an ounce of your light from you in exchange. And if that tormented him as much as his darkness tormented you... then you felt at least a little less pathetic for falling in love with the Dark Lord of the Rings.

[m-ilkiee]

Impulsive- Keisuke Baji × Fem Reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞[summary] you and baji keisuke are in love. but you both are too stupid to realize the feelings you have for each other, so emma and senju give you both a little push.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞[content warning] SMUT, crack, mutual pining, baji has a thing for you and your tits, non-specified tits size, flashing, implied m. masturbation, tits sucking, groping, fingering (f. recieving), oral (m. recieving), handjob (m. recieving).

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [r - 18+] not suitable for 17 and below

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [wc] 3.9k

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [masterlist] [taglist] [main page]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [author's note] bringing this back because it was underrated asf. also likes are good but you'll encourage me to work faster if you comment and reblog this fic for others to see. I don't think I'm asking for much apart from your thoughts. just a simple "oh i loved this" is more than enough for me.

ONE thing about your friends Emma and Senju is that they have a good way of putting you in very compromising situations.

You feel awkward just standing outside Keisuke's dorm room with Senju and Emma hanging behind the trees to see if you would actually do it. They knew you had a huge crush on Keisuke ever since you started university and that you could barely speak to him because you were extremely shy, only ever nodding or playing with your fingers whenever he asked you about your day or if you needed help with anything.

Emma was the first to notice your huge crush on her brother's best friend, before teasing you about it with Senju. "Do you like his long dark hair?" She teased you about it with an obvious smirk, in which you would just hide your face in your pillow. "Or is it his vampire grin? His broad chest and toned arms? Or the way your name sounds with his voice?"

But teasing was just teasing and they respected your wishes not to do anything embarrassing to you whenever Baji was around.

Until this stupid truth or dare game came along.

You can't believe Senju. "I dare you to flash Baji."  is what she had dared you to do. How obvious can she be? What if you get in trouble for doing something as silly as flashing him? This was such a bad idea from start to finish and you really did not want to do it. But it was either this or drinking that horrible concoction you, Senju and Emma made and you did not see yourself getting food poisoning anytime soon.

'This is Keisuke Baji I'm talking about', you think to yourself as you stand outside his window, twirling the ends of your jumper between your fingers. 'easily one of the hottest guys on campus with girls and guys flocking around him in seconds. I don't want to embarrass myself by doing this.'

Your phone buzzes loudly and you quickly open it to see it was Emma that texted you.

Emma: Get ready, I've called Baji to look at a special surprise waiting for him outside 😉

You: I hate you and Senju, literally.

You were about to type something else when the lights in Keisuke's room came on, making you quickly put your phone into your pocket and turn to face the window. You briefly contemplate chickening out and just running away, but the mental image of that concoction going down your throat sends a shiver down your spine.

A tall shadowy figure makes its way to the window blinds and opens it, revealing a tired Keisuke with his large fingers rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, mumbling something about Emma calling him at such an ungodly hour. Your heart races as Keisuke scans the exterior of his dorm until he spots you all the way from down stairs.

"(Name)?" His tone is nothing short of shock as he looks at you with tired eyes. "What are you doing down here? It's kinda cold outside-"

You take in a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the utter humiliation that would follow the moment you went through with your plan.

'It's now or never'

Keisuke stares at you in confusion as you start lifting up the edges of your baggy sweater slowly, still maintaining eye contact with your crush until your bare chest is revealed completely, showing your tits in all its glory. You watch as all the tiredness in his eyes fade into a much darker glint, his face completely heating up with embarrassment and shock as he absorbs the sight of your naked tits hanging out in the cool air, nipples erect from the stimulation.

Eventually, your bravado expires and you quickly drop your shirt down to cover yourself, clearly humiliated. You had just shown Keisuke - and possibly some other guys- your breasts. Keisuke can only oogle, just standing there in perpetual shock as you run into the bushes where Emma and Senju are giggling and stifling their laughter. 

"Omg you did it! I cannot believe you really chose to show him your tits" Senju screams, jumping into the front of the car, with Emma plopping at the back. "You really did it! There’s no way he won’t want you now."

You can only bury your hands in your head to hide your face. Maybe drinking the concoction wasn't such a bad idea after all, because now you have to think of what you're going to say when you see him tomorrow.

You had just shown your crush your tits, who knows what might be going through his head right now?

"I can't believe this shit. I'm never doing this with you guys ever again. Ugh!"

You just hoped he was dumb enough to think he was dreaming.

  THE next few days are rather uneventful.

You've spent most of it going to class and trying to avoid Keisuke at all cost, even going as far as walking straight into the male toilet just to hide. Emma and Senju have been snickering all through it, muttering something about you 'manning up' and just talking to him.

"Another bad idea from the two of you. No thank you." You scoff, putting more attention on the scarf you were knitting. Your body shudders at the thought of just talking to Keisuke about what you did that day and imagining the look of disgust that would cross his face. "Listening to the two of you got me into this mess. I am not sure I can face Baji after that thing I did. He must think I'm a pervert."

You were too focused on the scarf you were knitting that you didn't see your two friends exchanging a knowing look, before facing you again. "Well, pervert or not," Emma continues, now tossing your school bag on the table. "you still have to meet up with Chifuyu for the study group you both have in his apartment."

'Shit'

Your eyes widened in realization the moment Emma had reminded you of your weekly study group with Chifuyu. You quickly drop your knitting scarf and get up, running around the room to get your shoes and trousers. "I TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT THAT, CHIFUYU'S GONNA KILL ME!" you scream while putting on your trousers. "HOW LATE AM I?" You ask Senju frantically, now trying to adjust your sneakers.

"It's 3:45 pm." She says, putting down her phone. "but (name) aren't you forgetting some-"

"Oh shit! That's 15 minutes gone, I've got to go, got to go-" you keep repeating, slinging your bag across your shoulders and running out of the room without wasting anymore time. Senju and Emma can only sigh whilst shaking their head at you running down the stairs and muttering "Chifuyu don't kill me please."

"So… should we tell her?" Senju asks, looking at Emma as they watch you run off while screaming until you disappear. "Nah," Emma shrugs, a smug smile crawling onto her lips before shutting the door in front of her. "She'll figure it out when she gets there."

  YOU don't expect Baji Keisuke to be the one opening the door to Chifuyu's dorm room.

You can only stare wide-eyed as he stands in front of you, shirtless, trousers hanging low on his waist, revealing his Calvin Klein boxers and long hair cascading across his broad shoulders. His eyes are wide, clearly shocked to see you here as well.

You've been avoiding him all week, of course he's surprised to see you here.

You have to start talking before the awkwardness gets worse.

"Um I thought this was Chifuyu's room" you managed to get out of your mouth. 'Don't be lame, just say anything less stupid.' you scream internally. "What are you doing here?"

If the ground can swallow you, you hope it does right now. Your stupidity is too much for the world to handle.

"I'm Chifuyu's roommate." Keisuke replies to your question with a raised brow, clearly confused because you've come here so many times. "You've seen me here before."

'Of course I have, how else did this stupid fucking crush on you start?'

"Oh, I'm so sorry" you apologize, smiling awkwardly and scratching your head. This was so embarrassing for you, first the whole flashing ordeal and now you asking him if he lives in his own dorm room. No wonder he's just staring down at you like you've lost your mind, he must think you're utterly embarrassing. "I'll just go-"

"You weren't this nervous the other night."

You froze in your spot, your brain shutting down for a few seconds as you stared at him like he grew an extra head. Your heart races in your chest, your brain struggling to find the words to just say anything to him but ultimately failing. Keisuke notices your struggle and decides to continue talking until you can speak again.

"I didn't expect that from you to be honest, but…" a smirk appears on his face as he steps forward, closing the space between the two of you. Your heart hammers loudly in your chest at the proximity, your feet planted onto the ground, unable to move. "I like what I saw that night."

'He what?'

"They're pretty, y'know." His voice is dangerously low and you don't even register that his hand is now on your cheek until he leans forward and your noses are almost touching. "I just want to put one in my mouth and play with the other, if you're down of course." His hot breath is intoxicating, leaving you light headed as he cups your jaw with his free hand. "Although I don't think it's bad to cop a feeling from the girl I like. Right?"

"Y-you like me?" Should you be falling for this? You know Baji is sincere and if he wants to get in your pants, he isn't afraid to tell you to your face. But don't you think you're rushing things if you two sleep together now?

You shiver as his fingers ghost along your waistline, trailing up and down your hips. "Since Emma introduced me to you, I've not been able to think of anyone else." His voice is charming, alluring even, all your inhibitions are thrown outside the window. "You're such a sweet girl. I like you so much but you always avoid me." You're convinced at this point that Keisuke is seducing you for sure with the way he's touching you and speaking to you, but it's not like you're against it. "Got me thinking you hate me or something."

"I'm shy." You know this is a dangerous territory you are threading, sleeping with someone you like without going on a first date at least is always a bad idea. You are putting your heart on the line, trusting Keisuke's integrity. "I thought you wouldn't be interested in me."

His arm circles around your hips gently, pulling you into the dorm room with him and closing the door behind the two of you. "Well then, let me show you how much interested I am in you."

  KEISUKE feels like he is in heaven right now.

He has you straddling him on his bed in only your panties with your clothes and shoes neatly folded on his reading table, one of your tits in his mouth while he gropes the other one in his large hand, massaging and playing with it. His free hand guides your hips to grind against the prominent bulge on his trousers, pleasure spreading through his body like wildfire.

"Kei, like that" you moan quietly, your hand digging through his long hair, pushing his head further into your chest. "Mmh fuck, feels good, your tongue-."

He rolls his tongue over your nipple, circling around your areola, his fingers pinching your other nipple. He smirks as your back arches against his lips, pressing your body against him.

He's got to thank Emma for bringing you into his life.

Keisuke pulls away from breast with a loud pop, replacing it with his large hand, massaging your breasts gently. "Give me a kiss pretty girl." He commands breathlessly and you press your lips on his in an open mouthed kiss. You invade his mouth with your tongue, swirling your wet muscle against his. He groans in pleasure when you tug on his hair roughly, overwhelming his senses as you play with his mouth and keep humping his clothed cock, occasionally pulling away to catch your breath before kissing him again.

He lets you trail down his jaw and neck, your teeth grazing and sucking dark marks on his skin. Your kisses are much more intoxicating than he can imagine, leaving him aching to feel all of you, to just rip your panties off and fuck you until you're both spent. "Move your panties to the side, 'want to finger that pretty pussy." He moans breathlessly and you let go of his hair briefly, shifting your panties aside for him and stopping your movement.

Deft fingers trail over your pussy lips, gathering all the slick produced before pushing two fingers at once inside you. "So wet f'me." He laughs against your lips, capturing your swollen mouth in a messy kiss yet again. He is merciless in pumping his fingers into your wet cunt, enjoying every moan that leaves your lips as he fucks his fingers into you.

"Kei, Kei please-" you lose control of your tempo, your eyes rolling back as he lowers his mouth on your breast, playing with the other with his large hand.  It feels too much for you to handle and yet it's too good for you to want him to stop. "Kei please- Ah" your back arches when his fingers brush against that spot. He smiles against your breast in realization before aiming for it again, reveling in the way your cunt throbs around his fingers as he pumps into you, slick gushing all over his fingers.

"Good girl." He praises, fucking into you faster with his fingers. His lips latch onto your neck briefly, making you wirthe underneath his grasp, the coil in your belly tightening with every thrust. Your gazed over your eyes, your chest heaving with pleasure, your pussy clenching around his fingers, the way your nails dug into his shoulders, everything about this moment looked so good. "Gonna cum for me right? Gonna cum soon princess?"

"Yes Kei- please make me feel good-" you beg breathlessly, reaching down to touch your clit. "Kei make me cum please, please, please, please-"

You let out a loud moan as Keisuke dives his head to your breasts again, sucking and slurping on each nipple, alternating between them. His fingers don't relent in pumping into you faster and faster, sending you over the edge. Your body spasms underneath his touch, pussy throbbing and cumming all over his fingers while you give a broken cry of "thank you kei" over and over again until your body slumps weakly on his, resting against him. You breathe heavily for a while, getting yourself back before kissing him softly.

Wordlessly, you move down his jaw, trailing kisses to his neck and chest, making your way to his sexy v-line. "Can I?" You ask softly, your hand ghosting over the bulge on his trousers. It was his turn to be breathless, seeing your head in between his laps with your cute ass in the air has him aching in his pants.

"Yeah princess. Fuck me."

Your hands are like clock work with the way you pull down his sweats to reveal his pale erect cock, the thick, long, veiny appendage slapping against his abdomen, pre leaking from the dark pink tip. Your eyes glaze over in adoration as you circle your palm around it, giving it a tight squeeze. Keisuke is quick to shut his eyes in pleasure as you pump his shaft gently, giving kitten licks onto his slit for more stimulation, sending waves of ecstasy through his nerves. "Yeah, just like that (name), fuck-" he groans, as you pump him faster, your mouth now suctioning against his tip. "Oh god, please, faster- fuck"

You pick up the pace with your hand and mouth, pumping his dick with your fist and downing it bit by bit into your mouth, maintaining eye contact with his scrunched up face. He looks gorgeous like this, panting and moaning, his face flushed red with pleasure, hooded eyes gazing down on you, watching you take him as far you can go. "Oh yes, fuck princess- keep doing that, fuck, fuck, love you so much. Fuck"

You bob your head up and down his length, trying to relax your throat and take him in as much as you can, relishing the salty taste of his precum spread all over his cock. Your hand pumps against the rest of him while you hum and move your tongue around his thick length, making him shake with pleasure. "Oh fuck, look what you've done t-to me- shit" he grasps the sheet underneath him with large fingers, trying to keep himself grounded.

This was so much better than all the nights he fucked his fist thinking about you, especially after seeing your tits that day. The pretty girl that never seemed to meet his eyes anytime you and him were together, you had caught his attention the first time Emma had introduced you to the rest of them. The way you smiled, your sweet voice, everything about you screamed "adorable" and you were the kind of girl he's always dreamed of.

Or the only constant one.

Chifuyu had caught him daydreaming about you so many times, it was almost embarrassing. He would always tease Keisuke about liking you. "She's cute, isn't she? I didn't know you liked the shy ones. You should probably talk to her before some other guys try to steal her away, you know she's too hot to be single."

You were always brief with him, which made matters worse for Keisuke, especially when he sees you laughing with Mikey or Kazutora and shying away from him. Was he creepy when he looked at you? Does he smell? Or was he too loud? He tried to be gentle around you so as not to scare you, but you still skitted away from him.

Now he realizes that it was just your shyness and you actually do like him.

"I'm close-"

His head swam with sensations from your mouth, his belly coiling with all the tension building up. His thighs shook with intense pleasure as you bobbed your head down his big cock a few more times, before pulling out just in time for him to blow his load all over your breasts. His orgasm was intense, his groans of ecstasy bouncing off the walls as he came all over your tits, his cock twitching in your hands as you jerked him off completely until there was nothing left.

"Fuck, that felt so good." He whimpers out, still out of breath as you knelt upright to kiss him softly to which he reciprocated before pulling away. He grasps your arm and leads you straight to the bathroom to help you wash off. "You're such a good girl. My pretty girl. Let's get you cleaned before Chifuyu comes back, okay?"

  "SO you avoided me because you didn't want to embarrass yourself and yet you were willing to flash me at the same time?"

You laid down next to Keisuke on his bed, his arms encased around your fully clothed body (save for your panties, those were his now. You couldn't say no to his puppy dog gaze), while he was also clothed as well. You should be embarrassed to tell him the full story, but at this point you don't have it in you to feel any form of shame after basically getting each other off.

"It wasn't like I wanted to flash you." You murmur, pressing your head against his broad chest and inhaling his scent. "It's just that me, Emma and Senju made such a ridiculous mixture that I was willing to risk getting arrested than having food poisoning. I was scared throughout you were going to think I'm some kind of pervert for doing that."

"Well…" he trails off, thinking about the whole ordeal. His cheek flushes pink as he remembers how he lost sleep after seeing your tits and went straight to the bathroom to masturbate. "I did jerk off to that, so we're both perverts"

"Keisuke Baji!"

"Hey! Don't blame me, your tits are cute as fuck." He defends himself, only cuddling you tighter. "I would have seen them earlier if you had just let me confess instead of always running away whenever I came near you."

"You were going to confess to me?" You sit up with your elbows, now looking at him face to face. "Wait, wait, wait, I don't understand?"

"I've been trying to tell you that I like you for the past one month but you kept running away or things got in the way." Keisuke confesses exasperatedly. "I tried Emma's advice and asked you to eat with me on my treat but then Mikey heard food and ruined everything by making it a general outing. Then I tried listening to Chifuyu and got you flowers on valentines day but you were allergic to the ones I got. Draken told me to be straightforward and you thought I meant that I loved you as a friend." You wince as the realization hits you hard like a truck. All those moments of him trying to ask you out would have been seen as romantic by a bystander, but you were too oblivious to realize that.

Emma's judgemental stares each time finally made sense.

"Sorry about that." You muttered, now collapsing on his chest again, snuggling up against him. "I must have given you mixed signals when I pulled that stunt huh."

He rests his chin on the top of your head, his hand rubbing circles around your back. "Let's forget about that and think about where you want our first date to be-"

"BAJI-KUN (NAME)'S MISSING. EMMA'S BEEN CALLING HER FOR THE PAST THREE HOURS AND…"

You both sit up at the sound of the door being slammed open by none other than Chifuyu, who looked like he had run all the way here in a hurry. His voice trails off the moment he sees you lying down on Baji's bed, before looking at Baji and then back at you.

"You've been here this whole time"

You awkwardly laugh at the deadness of his tone as he looks at you with an annoyed glare. "Sorry, we were quite busy." You murmur quietly, looking at your laps.

"The sheets on your bed look different, Baji-kun-"

"I fucked my girlfriend Chifuyu" Keisuke interjects, cutting him short. Blood drains from your head on hearing Keisuke calling you his girlfriend now. This is real. You and him are a thing. "Of course I'll change the sheets. I don't want us cuddling on a cum-stained…"

"I get it, I get it, I'll leave the two of you alone and tell Emma you guys are fine!" he cries out in disgust, walking out of the dorm room and shutting the door behind him. You let out a sigh of relief as you both relax on the bed, when Chifuyu opens the door again with wide eyes "WAIT DID YOU JUST CALL (NAME) YOUR GIRLFRIEND-"

"CHIFUYU I SWEAR DON'T MAKE ME GET UP FROM THIS FUCKING BED AWAY FROM (NAME)-"

"I'm going, I'm going."

special thanks to (please turn on your mentions in 'settings' before filling the form): @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @merrymerrykiss @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @ryuguji-sana @nuyoo @reiners-milkbiddies @kiwixpi @gh0stgirl333 @brisssaaa009 @fushiqruo @damidamimongalam @kawaiikoalagarden @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @kodzubaby @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @pikibee @tomeyano @matchamilktea-05 @tenjikusstuff4 @m0onz1 @hapikiou @rainnyzz @Lovelyartistz @lik0

layla 2022-2024 do not repost or translate this on any platform. Support me by reblogging my works with your thoughts.

[justaharmlesskimchi]

༺ღ༒ Tough Love ༒ღ༻

Summary: Housewardens x Two faced fem! Reader

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al-asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia

Spoiler: They know that reader is innocent, kind etc but they didn't know their other side

"Don't be fooled by their tender smile.."

"give an inch and they'll run a MILE"

You and Riddle are now dating, and he treats you nicely. Sometimes he doesn't punish you because he knows that you can obey the rules.

One day, when you were walking on the main street, someone bumped into you, making you fall.

You looked up at that person, who just stared at you with a disgusted face. However, something or someone possessed your body, and you got up, pulled that person's hair, and kicked his stomach.

Someone saw you doing that, and you received guidance. When you returned to the Heartslabyul dorm, Riddle approached you, arms crossed, saying, 'What have you done, my rose?' After he scolded you, you told him that you get angry easily and you're not really that innocent.

Upon telling him tat the person didn't apologize when he bumped into you, he said that it's okay, but next time, when someone hurts you, say it to him.

Then, the two of you cuddled together, and he kissed you on the forehead.

Since you came at the NRC and looking innocent but after that.

He already knows that you have a two Faced personality

When he sleeps in a tree, he sees you kicking someone in their private part, and he smirks and goes back to sleeping.

Thingking you look so hot doing that.

Seeing you do this, he thought all this innocent face of yours have a dark secret all the time.

He thought that he could manipulate you by signing his contracts.

One day while in his office, he offers you to make a deal with him, but you respectfully denied, 'I don't want to. I don't want to be in your hands like a puppet. Don't try me because I know that you're just manipulating me,' you say to him before standing up and leaving his office.

He's speechless; he really thought that you didn't know about that. But he likes your naive personality, so he gets Jade and Floyd to stalk you and get information about you to reveal your identity to others.

When they come back to him saying they don't have any information about you, that makes him mad but he smirks, 'So you like this, huh? Fine, I'll play your little game, [y/n].'

You two are great friends and you and him sometimes hang out,

one day when you two we're talking his dorm mate approaches you two and starts talking bad about him that makes him just stand there and looks at the ground while you looks at the guy with a death glare and suddenly punch him in the face making him fall,

and you grab Kalim's hand and walks of, and you remind him if someone talks bad about him again just say it to you which he just nods.

You hug him tight making him shocked at your actions, but he smiles and hugs you back.

The day you came, he's jealous because he thinks you're more beautiful than him. So, innocent and kind, he just wants to break you into pieces.

One time, he goes to his secret lab, grabs an apple, and makes it poisonous. The apple is so red that it doesn't look poisonous. He suddenly approaches you and offers you the apple, saying, "for you" You smile at him, taking the apple, and thank him.

He walks off smirking. You look at the apple, staring back at him as he walks off, and give him a death glare. You take a bite of the apple.

The next day, he is shocked that you are still there and not dead. You approach him after class, looking up at him because you're a bit short, and say, "I know that apple is poisonous and it tingles my throat, but luckily I can handle poisoned stuff. Try to do it again or I'll make you."

You walk off, leaving him standing there with a slight smirk and he says, "So tough are we? I can't wait to break you then." He mumbles and looking at your form leaving the class.

You two sometimes play games and watch movies. He sometimes protects you, but one day, when some of his dormmates were mocking you, he gets angry and is ready to approach them.

To his surprise, you kick one of them, making the other fall to the ground. You slap the other one and walk away. When you were out of sight, he was speechless. However, he approaches the two and scolds them, saying, 'If you do this again, you two will pay,' making the two flinch in terror.

He walks off, not expecting that behind those cute and innocent faces of yours was another personality hidden inside.

"Who are you really [y/n].."

Those tender smiles of yours are making him fall hard for you. He protects you because he thought you can't handle yourself and fight due to your innocent face.

But one day, when he was walking on the main street, he saw you and some boy mocking you. He got angry and ready to approach you two but stopped when he saw you glare at that person and slap his face.

You walked off, leaving him on the ground holding his red cheek. He was surprised and smiled proudly because you can stand up for yourself. When you and he walked back to each other's dorm, he looked at you and you gave him a smile, which he smiled back.

'Those tender smiles of yours... are really dangerous inside,' he said. When you got back to your dorm, he sat down on his chair, thinking about what had happened lately, and smirked, 'You really have a dangerous aura, [y/n].'

[gyllenhaalstories]

CHOKEHOLD — ELWOOD DALTON

summary: dalton is a triple threat: he’s got sexy tattoos, a thick neck and he’s terribly needy.

warnings: reader is gender neutral!, smut (quickie, masturbation, choking  handjob, edging, subby dalton vibes). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 1430

photo credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i'm the captain (conductor? driver? main cheerleader who's been thirsting for dalton since the beginning? choose your fighter) of the the dalton hype train. grab your train ticket and join us! choo-choo! 🖤 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

You knew what he was up to. You had your suspicions from the start, when he told you he wanted to grab something from the bedroom with a smile on his lips. There was a hint of mischief camouflaged under a layer of fake innocence, a mix that was so characteristic of him.

Dalton was not being subtle about it either. His moans, grunts and whimpers were loud enough to echo from the bedroom to the hallway, from where you were standing. Truthfully, the whispered pleas, muffled begging and “yeah, just like that, fuck” gave everything away.

You knew he was alone, at least physically. You also knew that he was thinking of you while he was doing whatever it was that kept him too busy to answer when you called out his name.

He loved to tell you how much he thought about you. Whether he was quickly jerking off in the shower after training to release some of the pent up energy that ran through his veins, or when he was taking his sweet time to enjoy himself — he was dying to tell you all about it. 

You started to wonder what turned him on the most between the act of sharing his filthy thoughts or watching you as your brain slowly melted away, detail after detail, until you had to recreate whatever jerk off story he was telling you. Knowing Dalton, it was most definitely both of those. And knowing Dalton, he was putting on a show for his own pleasure, the fact that you enjoyed it just as much was the cherry on top.

He caught a glimpse of your head peeking in the doorway. He tightened his fist around his cock and jerked off faster, focusing on his tip that already started to leak.

You stared, immobile, except for how you bit on your lower lip.

"Come on, don't be shy."

His invitation succeeded in being too tempting to resist. You walked in the bedroom and admired his body some more. The way his chest rose and fell heavily with every breath he took captivated you.

Dalton cut you off before you started drooling at the sight of his small, perky nipples. He was now standing up, the rest of his naked body exposed to you. He erased the distance between the two of you, his mouth searching for yours to exchange a kiss that you denied him.

"You wanted to get off?" He nodded, then tilted his head to the side. "So I'll get you off."

His hands, glistening with the spit and precum he used as lube, abandoned his cock and reached towards your clothes. He was eager to touch your body, to feel your warm skin on his.

Again, you denied him of this privilege. You clicked your tongue, telling him off. "No touching, babe." He pulled his best game of puppy eyes in an attempt to win you over, but he failed. "I just wanna make you feel good."

He earned a kiss when he surrendered and you let your hands fall on his shoulders and caress down his chest, his abdomen and to his waist.

Your fingers traced over the defined muscles of his hips before you broke contact to spit on your hand, getting it ready for his throbbing cock.

He threw his head back when you wrapped your hand around his shaft, revealing his neck that looked so sad without its usual marks.

You remedied the situation by leaving kisses on and around his Adam's apple, hickeys soon followed while you jerked him off so painfully slowly.

Dalton did not want to warn you about how close he had gotten himself before you caught him, he wanted to get lost in the feeling of your hand stroking him from the base to the tip. You cupped his heavy balls with your other hand. It felt heavenly, proven by the droplets of precum that trickled down his cock.

"Feels good, yeah?"

He nodded eagerly, you looked down between your bodies and noticed how he was flexing his hips, trying to fuck your hand faster. "I need you so bad, baby..."

"I know," you cooed at him. "I know you do. I can see it. I can feel it." You laughed softly, not mocking him about it just yet.

"I wanna be inside you." He mumbled, his moans getting louder when you swiped your thumb over his sensitive tip. "Please, please, please..."

His begging was cut short when your hand wrapped around his thick neck. You choked him lightly, giving him one more chance to listen to what you said moments ago.

Only, it only made him crave the feeling of you even more. "Come on," he repeated his words from earlier. "You know you want it too."

"Oh, I do." You smirked at your man. "But not yet. I want to make you earn it."

You took him by surprise when you jerked him off faster, harder, bringing him closer than he did on his own before until you felt a breath getting stuck in his throat. You pulled your hand away from his cock and looked down as it throbbed again.

Dalton caught your attention when he chuckled, the adrenaline rush of the first edge kicking in.

In return, you caught him off guard by tightening your grip around his neck and taking his cock in your hand again. You guided him, forcing him to walk backwards until his bare back met with the wall. You pinned him up in place, secured with the chokehold around his neck.

"You're so fucking hot." He managed to whisper, the praise convinced you to loosen your hand for a few moments. You let him catch his breath before you choked him again, before you edged him again.

He was being so good for you, and you told him so many times, while he took two more edges in this position. You felt Dalton pulsate in your hands, all of the veins bulging underneath your fingers. "Do you think you earned it?" You asked with a condescending tone. "Do you wanna cum? I think you do."

You blurred his mind, he was lost in confusion between begging to cum right now or waiting until he could finish inside of whatever hole you would offer him. He tried to think with his mind, but he failed miserably.

"Please let me cum!"

You added another layer of agony by letting go of his neck for a few moments, so you could push him towards the bed this time.

His body relaxed as the bed sheets and cushions safely welcomed his weight. And yours too, while you climbed to kneel by his side.

Your hand jerked him off fast again while he was fighting against how sensitive he felt, how close to his release he truly was. "You wanna cum for me baby? You wanna make a big mess for me?"

He wanted it so fucking bad and you knew it. You granted his wish and kept jerking him off until you could no longer hear the slick sounds of your hand around his shaft. The noises were replaced by his grunts of pleasure that resonated in the room.

Pleasure that turned into a complaint when you pulled your hand away at the perfect time. You made him cum without the final strokes of your hand that he craved so badly. Your other hand, though, was still choking him. You held him right there, in that sweet spot of euphoria while he finished riding the wave of his orgasm.

The vein on his temple looked so perfect, and you planted a loving kiss on it, tasting the beads of sweat that were on his skin. He came down from his high, both satisfied but still in desperate need for more.

You released his neck for the final time and replaced your hand with a trail of kisses all over his skin. You tried to follow his movements while he panted, recovering from the limited oxygen he had received these past minutes.

He watched you closely while your mouth abandoned his neck and, instead, followed the ropes of cum that he painted on his tan and toned stomach. Drops of cum dripped down his puffy abs and you licked all of it clean.

"Next time you want to jerk off, will you ask for my help instead?" You asked, crawling up the bed so your faces met for a heated kiss.

He moaned against your lips at the taste of him. "Next time, I'll just use you to jerk off instead."

[sapphire-writes]

Ch. 5: Safe (finale)

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter

summary: The culmination of the haunting of Harrenhal. Secrets are revealed.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: ANGST, grief, possession, mentions and descriptions of death, suffocation, claustrophobia, car accident resulting in death, home invasion, ghosts, spooky things, fighting, blood, spiders

note: some things are revealed, and some are left for you to rattle around with and ponder! Happy Halloween my loves! 🎃 👻

banner made by the fantastic @ewanmitchellcrumbs, ilysm ange! thank you again for making this for me, I've appreciated it so much!

The drive home is filled with comfortable silence. The rain has changed from a torrential downpour to a light drizzle; steam rising off the blacktop curling toward the sky like smoke. The back of the car is full of shopping bags. It was hard to choose only one doll, and Aemond was insistent that Jaehaera should have one of her choosing; thus resulting in the purchase of one of each. 

It was past suppertime by the time you’d returned to the grounds, the sky turning a pale purple as the sun sank over the horizon. 

The house was quiet as you entered. Aemond hurried himself upstairs to check on Helaena and you made yourself busy in the kitchen. You found some leftovers and plated them before putting on the kettle. 

You turn at the sound of footsteps. Aemond’s eye is wide, and he nods as you acknowledge him. 

“Everything alright?” you ask, and he nods again more forcefully.

“Yes, she’s just with Maelor now in her room,” he tells you, “Jaehaera is in the nursery. Everything’s…alright.” He says it like he can’t believe it’s true.

“Sit,” you tell him, “You should eat.”

Aemond does as he’s told, sitting in a chair and rubbing his face. 

“I’m so relieved,” he admits, “I didn’t…I was a bit unsure…” Aemond sighs then, leaning back in his chair, “Well she hasn’t been keen to interact with him since….”

“Since Jaehaerys,” you finish his sentence for him.

“Yes,” he agrees, “Since Jaehaerys.”

How much do you push? You’re not even sure what this means now that you and Aemond have slept together. How much should you know? You place a plate in front of him, before sitting down at the table as well.

How much do you want to know?

“What happened to him?” you ask, nervous to broach the subject.

You’d read a bit online about what had happened, but there were little details made public. About anything to be honest. The Targaryens were quite secretive. 

“Helaena….” Aemond begins, “It was terrible. A home invasion. It happened right in front of her…” Aemond sighs, “I just want her to be safe. I’ve never been more scared than on that night. I thought I’d lost them all.”

Aemond rubs a hand over his face, closing his eyes.

“He thought he was hiding,” Aemond says softly, “Like a game. Helaena told him to go hide and he did. But…” Aemond swallows before continuing, “No one could find him. Long after the police had been there. Not until.”

Nausea rolls through you, discomfort sitting like a weight in your stomach. 

“Where was he?”

“He’d gotten into the attic somehow, locked himself in a chest,” Aemond says, wiping a tear escaping his eye, “The coroner said he’d most likely fallen asleep. That the lack of oxygen wasn’t…it wasn’t a painful way to go.”

You can’t help the small, pained gasp that leaves you and you rush to cover your mouth with your hand, tears welling in your eyes. Just picturing little Jaehaera, you can’t even imagine something like that happening to her. 

“And it was so soon after Alys,” he admits, “I wasn’t..I wasn’t myself. I don’t think I could have survived it. If Helaena…”

“Alys….she was pregnant, wasn’t she?” you ask, speaking very slowly.

Aemond gives you a curt nod, fingers tapping the table.

“She was,” he admits, “We weren’t….it wasn’t planned. But we were happy.”

You listen to him talk, focusing on the movement of his mouth. 

“Car accident,” he murmurs, answering your unspoken question.

You nod slightly as he raises his eyes to see your reaction. There is no need to press any further on the subject of Alys. You can tell he still cares for her, that the wound has not healed. 

“When I brought the children here…the first time…the girl before you, Floris,” he begins, and you nod for him to continue, “That’s when Alys first showed herself. I thought if she had Jaehaera to look after, she’d be content.”

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Moments of confusion begin to click in your mind, the realization chilling. 

“She was, for a while,” Aemond tells you, deeply sighing, “I didn’t realize she’d…take over Floris until she tried...well,” He pauses a moment, wetting his lips before glancing up at you, “I’m sure you can imagine what happened.”

“Oh,” you answer, cheeks warming, “And did you..”

“No!" he answers quickly, "Seven hells I was embarrassed,” Aemond says, his own cheeks turning pink, “I had no feelings for her, nor her any for me. The poor girl was humiliated when she realized what Alys had tried to make her do. Left the following morning with little more than a resignation note scribbled on a napkin.”

“What does she want?” you ask, referring to his dead wife.

“I just think…” Aemond trails off, his eyes lost in thought, “I think she’s lonely. I think most of the spirits trapped here are.”

“And yet you mean to sell.”

“What would you have me do?” Aemond asks, resting his hand over his mouth, his elbow against the table.

You hold his gaze, unsure of how to answer. 

Lights shine into the kitchen, along with the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires. Someone pulled in the driveway.

“Someone’s here,” Aemond murmurs, standing.

He goes to the front door and you stay behind, cleaning up the plates. 

Voices soon grow louder as you clear the table. Not quite yelling, but raising in volume. You’re able to catch just pieces of the conversation; Aemond and someone else.

“She’s owed it,” Daemon’s voice makes your blood run cold, “More than you.”

“Alys was my wife,” Aemond argues, “This is what she wanted. I’m respecting her wishes.”

“It’s rather convenient that all those documents were lost,” Daemon continues, “Harwin wanted this place to go to Rhaenyra. To the boys.”

“Then he should have made the arrangements before…”

“Yes,” Daemon says slowly, “I suppose he should have. However, it is rather curious. He returns to Harrenhal House to get his will squared away and then…” Daemon trails off.

“What are you implying?” Aemond asks cooly.

“I’m only being curious,” Daemon insists, a playful edge to his voice, “Though I’m sure you’ll get a pretty penny for this old place. Ghosts and all.”

Aemond doesn’t answer, and you hear Daemon bark out a sharp laugh.

“Come now, lēkianna (nephew), have a sense of humor.”

“I want you gone,” Aemond quips.

“Yes, well, we all want things, don’t we?” Daemon asks, the smile evident in his tone. 

You take another step and a floorboard creaks causing you to wince. 

“Ah. That’ll be your little friend,” Daemon muses, missing nothing, “But before I take my leave, Rhaenyra asked about Helaena.”

“She’s fine,” Aemond snaps, “I’m taking care of her.”

You back up into the kitchen at the sound of footsteps. Daemon appears not a moment later, a half smile on his face. He’s dressed in a black button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Aemond stands behind him in the doorway, watching closely. 

“Kettle on?” Daemon asks you, violet eyes narrowed. You give him a curt nod. “Be a dear, won’t you?”

You glance at Aemond, meeting his eyes. He looks exhausted but tilts his chin giving you the silent go-ahead. Turning from Daemon you grab a mug and prepare him a cup of tea. Daemon walks around the kitchen as you do so; you can feel his presence behind you. Aemond remains in the doorway his hands curled into anxious fists at his side. You try not to let your hands tremble as you offer the cup to Daemon, turning away from the counter. 

He takes it, offering a small smile in return as he sips from the steaming cup. 

“She’d be better off with Rhaenyra,” Daemon says, not ready to end the previous conversation, “Not like your crowd could keep anyone safe-”

Aemond lurches forward, smashing Daemon’s cup from his hand and sending it to the floor. It shatters and pieces of the mug explode against the kitchen floor. Daemon merely smiles, as though the display was nothing more than a child’s tantrum. 

“Do you deny it?” Daemon taunts, “Be angry all you want; I only speak the truth.”

“Out,” Aemond hisses.

Daemon smiles crookedly, fire in his violet eyes. They stare at each other, neither refusing to back down first. They’re quite similar, you’ve noticed. Perhaps they once got along.

“The deed to the house,” Daemon tells him, “Then I’ll go.”

“You’ll go now,” Aemond says, grabbing Daemon by the shirt, and dragging him towards the door. 

“Aemond!” you yell, as they push through the front door. 

Daemon laughs as he pushes him, holding his hands out in feigned surrender. You’re almost sure Daemon could stop him if he truly wanted to; the older man is built with more muscle, less lithe and lean than Aemond is. You follow close behind as they make it out the door and down the front steps.

“Stop it!”

The two men continue fighting; they tumble down into the front yard, the rain-soaked grass causing them to lose their footing. The air is misty, the rain falling gently, steadily. 

It’s a blur of fists and silver hair, Daemon’s fist connects with the side of Aemond’s head and red explodes into the air like drops of rain. His ring has cut Aemond’s temple, blood trickling down the side of his face, a brilliant scarlet against porcelain flesh. 

“Stop it!” you yell, but the men ignore you continuing their fighting.

Aemond grapples with Daemon, spitting at him as he manages to wriggle out of his grip. You watch as Aemond gets the upper hand, his fist connecting with Daemon’s face. There’s blood on his hands, blood on his rain-soaked shirt and he keeps punching him again, again, again.

“Aemond!” you yell, your voice raw.

His eyes snap up, looking at you standing in the rain watching him. Daemon laughs below him, a slow giggle that grows in volume. 

Aemond rises off the ground, running a hand over his slicked hair and walking toward you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I’m sorry---” You wrap your arms around him, holding his lean form against you, hand pressed to the back of his head. 

“It’s alright,” you tell him, “It’s alright.”

You stand there holding him as Daemon sits up, spitting a wad of blood and saliva into the ground as he stands. Rain soaks through your clothes, Aemond’s head heavy against your shoulder. 

“This isn’t over,” Daemon says begrudgingly, walking over to his car, “If you won’t sign it over, she’ll put in an offer herself. And Helaena….” Daemon clicks his tongue, “Give her my regards.”

Daemon runs a hand over his hair, opening the door to his car before starting the engine. The tires crunch against the gravel as he speeds off.

“You’re freezing,” Aemond says. You’d hardly noticed you’d started shivering, your teeth rattling against each other. Aemond’s body pressed against yours, the only warmth you feel. Aemond takes your hands in his, squeezing gently. “Go upstairs, make sure Helaena is still alright?”

You force a nod, unable to stop your shaking. Your eyes are locked on his face, at the drying blood on the right side. Raindrops gather around the congealing blood, pink tears rolling down his cheek and onto his neck.

“I’ll get cleaned up,” he says softly, “Let’s go inside.”

You head up the stairs, hurrying to Helaena’s room as Aemond returns to the kitchen. You give the door a gentle knock before opening without a response from within. Perhaps she’s sleeping.

The room is dark, moonlight streaming in through the windows. 

“Helaena!” you call, stepping forward but stopping yourself.

She stands on her balcony, her silver hair blowing softly behind her. The rain sprinkles into the room, pearly dew drops gathering on the hardwood floor like glass marbles. The gate of the railing is thrown wide open so that if she took a step forward she would plummet to the ground below. Your heart hammers in your chest, adrenaline warming you even though you’re soaked to the bone. 

“Shhh,” Helaena murmurs, pointing to the bassinet that balances on the railing. Maelor is sound asleep within it. A breeze rolls through and you shiver.

“Helaena,” you say more softly, struggling to keep your voice even.

“He’s sleeping,” she says, staring at Maelor, “Isn’t he lovely?”

You take a cautious step forward, your shoes squelching as you do so. 

“It’s cold, Hel,” you say, struggling to keep your voice light and even, “Why don’t you come inside?”

She ignores you, still gazing at her sleeping son. 

“He looks so much like him,” she muses, brushing some soft hair, “He sleeps better. Jaehaerys never slept this easy as a baby.” She smiles softly, the back of her fingers almost stroking his cheek, “So soft. Perfect. A little angel, don’t you think?”

You nod, unable to speak, your throat tight with fear. Helaena hums happily and Maelor softly coos in his sleep, his fists raised above his head. 

“He should stay like this,” Helaena murmurs, “Just safe, happy. He doesn't have a care in the world.” Her fingers dance along his face, not quite touching him, “There’s so much pain ahead of him. So much hurt. Scraped knees, broken bones. Loss. Heartbreak.” She laughs quietly, still swaying in the wind. “I can fix that.”

Fear stabs through you like a knife between your ribs. “Hel..”

“I can,” she says, eyes meeting yours, “Right now. Spare him any of that. Isn’t that what a mother should do? Protect her baby from harm?”

You swallow.

“I don’t want him to hurt,” she says, tears streaming down her face, “That’s all.”

“I know,” you tell her, “And you can try, and you can love him and hold him, and teach him, but…you can’t control the world.”

“But I can control this,” she insists, “Right now. I can choose.”

“Helaena,” you beg, “You don’t want this, not really. You want your baby to live. You want Maelor to have a life.”

Her lip wobbles, and tears spill down her cheeks soaking the fabric of her nightgown.

“But ... .but…I don’t wish this pain. Why?” she asks, looking at you suddenly, “Why can’t it stop?”

“That’s the price we pay,” you tell her, “That’s the deal you make with the world.”

“Rotten luck,” she says, laughing bitterly, “This family is cursed. We brought him into the world with a sword hanging above his head. It’s only a matter of time before…” Helaena winces, pressing her palm against her head, “My head….” she says, voice breaking softly, “It always hurts.”

“Maybe he’ll break it,” you insist, “Generational curses don’t have to go on forever. The cycle can end.”

“I suppose,” Helaena muses, giving you a wry smile, “You have lots of hope.”

“I don’t--”

“It’s good,” she interrupts, “Aemond does too. You’re good for him. He has eyes…though I don’t think he can see.” She turns and steps inside.

You take a hesitant step forward reaching to take Maelor, steadying the bassinet as it wobbles. Helaena allows it, walking past you into the room as you scoop the sleeping babe into your arms. 

“This feels familiar,” Helaena says, glancing back at the balcony. A breeze rolls through, making you shiver, but Helaena stands unmoving. “Like…it’s happened before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want a book,” Helaena muses, ignoring your question, walking toward the door, “I’d like a different story.” She leaves her bedroom door open as she turns down the hall in the direction of the library. 

You steady yourself, taking a deep breath before walking to the nursery. Jaehaera isn’t in her bed when you arrive. A chill rolls through you. You place Maelor in his crib, closing the nursery door. A giggle is heard then, echoing through the hall.

“Jaehaera?” you call, walking slowly down the hall.

The giggling continues, along with the sound of running feet. Suddenly, the hair on the back of your neck rises and you turn.

Alys is in front of you, her green eyes bright. Shock pours through you, fear running through your veins like ice water.

“I’m sorry,” she says quickly, “I didn’t…”

You take an unconscious step back, adrenaline spiking at the perceived threat. 

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she says softly, “I just thought..” She trails off, “He’s been meaning to leave for some time. I tried to make him stay…even with Helaena..” Alys shakes her head, “I thought if we could have a baby. Our baby. I just wanted him to stay, that’s all.”

Tears began to well in your eyes. 

“He can’t go,” she tells you, “Not the way he wants to.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

Alys grimaces. 

“He can’t leave the way he wants,” she repeats, slowing her words.

What? “But Alys,” you tell her, “I don’t understand..please..”

“You know,” she tells you, backing up into the darkness until her glowing green eyes are all you can see—green flames in the darkness. “You’re clever. Help him see.”

Help him see.

Help him see what? But Alys has gone, evaporating into darkness.   

He can’t leave the way he wants to.

You walk down the hall, turning into the library. It appears to be empty and you crane your head around the darkened corners of the room, your mind spinning. 

He can’t leave the way he wants to.

“Helaena?” you call.

The way he wants to.

“Jaehaera?”

Aemond calls your name and you turn as he enters the library, his pace brisk.

“Come on,” he says, grabbing your hand, “Grab the baby. And Jaehaera, we’re leaving.”

He pulls you forward, and you nearly lose your footing, his hand holding yours tightly.

“Now?” you ask, your tone concerned. 

“We’ll stay somewhere in town,” he says, “It’ll be fine for a little while, then I’ll call my mother and figure something out with the house.” His voice borders on hysterical, “We’ve got to get them out. We’ve gotta get out now. Before something happens.”

“Before what happens?” you question. He can’t leave the way he wants. “Aemond wait, stop--” 

“What?” he says pausing, “I’ll get Helaena and we’ll go. It’s you and me.” He places his hands on your cheeks. “We’ll all be alright.”

His eyes are wide and he’s breathing heavily. You place your hands on top of his.

“Something’s wrong,” you tell him, “Something’s not right, we can’t.”

“Why?” Aemond says, “We can, I promise you we can let… let's just go-”

“Aemond-”

“Didn’t I tell you?”

Your eyes snap towards the door at the sound of her voice. Helaena stands in the doorway, her hair and nightgown dry. Her eyes are softer, a small smile on her face. 

“He’s so hopeful,” she says softly, as Aemond watches her, “Even now.”

A chill rolls down your spine as she walks into the room. Even the way she walks is whimsical like she’s floating rather than walking. 

“Hel-” you begin, but your throat grows tight with emotion.

“Don’t,” she says softly, “It’s alright. I wasn’t sure before but…he knows. I think he’s known for some time.”

He knows I’m dead, she means. 

“He just doesn’t want to believe it.”

This feels familiar, she’d said when standing on her balcony.

It all makes sense. 

Dead from the beginning.

“I used to have so many dreams about this place,” she muses, looking up toward the ceiling, “So much suffering within these walls. Death lives within the foundation of this house. It is no wonder things are this way. When I came here….” she trails off, wetting her lips, “Everything was loud. So loud in my head. Louder than it had ever been before.”

“You died,” you tell her, piecing the story together, “When you…when you first came to Harrenhal.” Helaena smiles at you softly, her eyes sad. 

“It was too loud,” she says softly, “I was grieving. It all was too much.”

“Aemond said it wasn’t you…..the screaming that night in the hall…but it was, wasn’t it?”

She doesn’t answer, her eyes just continue to flicker between you and her younger brother.

“Helaena,” Aemond says, speaking softly, “I’m so sorry. I should’ve…I should’ve-”

“Shhhh valonqar,” she says, stepping forward, stroking his cheek, “There was nothing you could have done.”

“I didn’t want this,” Aemond insists, “I just wanted...I just wanted you to be safe.”

“I am,” Helaena insists, “I’m safe. It’s so quiet now.” She looks up at the night sky, smiling to herself. “My head isn’t as loud.” 

“How can that be?” Aemond asks.

“Alys meant well,” Helaena tells him, pursing her lips, “She only meant to keep you here.”

“Alys,” you realize aloud, “It was her?”

“Sometimes ... .she'd get in my head…meddle about,” Helaena says softly, “Sometimes….it’s easy to forget. Time isn’t really the same now. I would walk for hours, waking up so confused.” Her voice trails off before she turns to you. “You’ll look after them. All of them.”

You nod. Of course, you will. 

“Helaena….” you say softly, “But how…”

“I’d always been sensitive, even in life,” she says softly, “Kepa called me his dreamer. It followed me in death as well I suppose.” She meets your eyes. “I don’t know who used me to speak with you. Someone here. Another spirit is not ready to show itself. Or perhaps they just don’t want to.” She sighs

You nod, unable to speak.

“I don’t want to leave you here,” Aemond says, “I don’t…I can’t do this without you.”

“It’s alright,” Helaena says, touching his cheek, “I’m here.” She presses a hand to his chest, and he places his on top of hers. “I’m with you. Do you remember what mother always said to us?”

“The invisible string,” Aemond whispers.

“It follows the people we love, connects us,” Helaena says softly, “Whenever you think of me, you pull on that, and no matter where I am, I’ll know. I am not gone. It’s just different now. But I’ll always be with you.” She smiles, “Avy jorrāelan.”

Aemond smiles through his tears, a soft laugh breaking through. He kisses the back of his sister’s hand. 

“Avy jorrāelan,” he says softly, “So much, Helaena, so much.”

She presses her hand against his cheek.

“Kepus?” Jaehaera’s voice calls, “Miss Gevie?”

Helaena smiles softly at the sound of her daughter’s voice. Jaehaera enters the library, eyes widening at the sight. Helaena walks over to her, kneeling.

“It’s time for me to go,” she says softly.

“I don’t want you to,” Jaehara says, her voice small, “Alys said…she said we could all stay.”

“No,” Helaena says, voice soft but firm, “No, you, my sweet girl, must go.” She brushes some hair from Jaehaera’s face, tears welling in her eyes, “There is so much world for you to see. So much life for you to live.”

“But what about you?” Jaehaera asks, tears falling down her cheeks, “What about you muña?”

Helaena smiles through her tears, her voice breaking, “My journey ends here.”

“No!” Jaehaera insists, stomping her foot.

Helaena presses a hand to her heart, bringing the other to Jaehaera’s. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you inhale a ragged breath and Aemond takes your hand in his. You hadn’t realized you were crying as well until he wiped a tear from your cheek.

“I am always with you,” she says softly, “Do you hear me? Always.”

Jaehaera places her hand on top of Helaena’s nodding despite her tears. Helaena pulls her close, embracing her tightly, kissing the top of her head, and smoothing her hair. She whispers something you do not catch. 

Jaehaera kisses her mother’s cheek before hurrying over to you. She hugs your legs, holding on tightly. 

“Let Rhaenyra have the house,” Helaena tells Aemond, “Tell Daemon. If it is Harrenhal they truly want, give it to them. This family has seen enough fighting for a lifetime.”

Aemond lowers his head. 

Helaena turns suddenly, eyes bright.

“I hear him again,” she says smiling, “He likes to hide, but I always find him.” She turns back to you all one final time, “We’ll be okay Aemond. Alys and I, we’ll look after one another. Be happy.”

Aemond stifles a sob and Helaena is gone. Jaehaera clings to you, pressing further against you and the three of you sink to the floor, holding onto one another. 

A Few Weeks Later

Summerhall house is bright; the walls of the first floor are made entirely of windows that overlook the mountains and the Dornish Marches. The air is turning colder with the promise of autumn, but that hasn’t stopped Jaehaera from playing outdoors.

A soft meow makes you glance down as Morghul rubs against your calf. The black kitten meows once more before softly padding down the steps and into the grass. She appeared to Jaehaera soon after relocating to Summerhal, never straying far from her side.

A swing hangs from a large oak tree and she loves to play on it. Though now she rests below the trunk of the tree. You’ll check on her in a moment, once Maelor’s eyes flutter shut and you pass him into Aemond’s arms. 

You rise from your seat on the porch and walk down the steps. The grass is warm and soft under your bare feet. The afternoon sunlight bathes the yard in warm golden light.

“Everything alright?” you ask Jaehaera who simply smiles, showing you what she’d found.

“A spider,” she says, “I’m not afraid of them anymore.”

“No?”

“Muña wouldn’t want me to be afraid.”

You smile, watching as she releases the creature against the trunk of the tree, watching as it scurries away. 

“No,” you agree, placing a kiss on top of Jaehaera’s head, “I suppose she wouldn’t.”

Jaehaera returns to her swing and asks you to push her. You agree, letting her laughter wash over you. You understand Helaena more and more each day. You only want them to be happy, only want them to be safe and loved.

The world may be full of unknowns, but you and Aemond are not. Here, with you they are safe, they are loved.

This may be enough.

note: As always when I finish a series thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! For reading my work, for your lovely reblogs, and for your thoughtful comments, I cannot thank you enough for your love and support! This has been an absolute blast to write and share with you! Until next time besties, I love you all so much, and Happy Halloween! 🎃

ACP taglist: @aebi12 | @lokiofasgard12 | @darkenchantress | @echos-muses | @kaelatargaryen | @zenka69 | @heavenly1927 | @boofy1998 | @snh96 | @zillahvathek | @minttea07 | @promnightbinbaby | @marihoneywk | @duds31 |@aemondsdelight

bold means I could not tag!

To be notified when I post something new, be sure to follow @sapphire-writes-updates & turn notifications on 🖤

[lecsainz]

hi! can you write some travis kelce x reader angst? thank you!

DIFFERENT THINGS

parings: travis kelce x girlfriend!reader

summary: the one where you decide to break up with travis because your future ideas are different.

an: about the super bowl, WHAT A GAME!

( my last work || go to my main masterlist )

The cold Kansas City wind bit through your coat as you stood on the doorstep, clutching the handle of your suitcase. The walls of our apartment seemed to close in on you, echoing the weight of the decision you were about to make. You had known Travis since our college days, and your love had weathered through many storms, but now it faced a tempest that threatened to tear you apart.

The sound of the door unlocking pulled you from your thoughts. The familiar creak of the door swung open, revealing Travis, still in his Chiefs jersey, the exhaustion evident in his eyes. A victorious smile painted across his face faded as he registered the somber atmosphere.

"Hey, babe! We did it again!" he exclaimed, expecting your usual enthusiastic response.

You managed a weak smile, your heart clenching at the realization that this would be the last time he'd see it. "Yeah, you did great out there."

He furrowed his brows, concern etching his features. "What's going on, Y/N?"

You took a deep breath, your hands trembling as you clutched the handle of your suitcase tighter. "Trav, we need to talk."

His eyes searched yours for reassurance, but the heavy air in the room told a different story. "Okay, talk to me. What's on your mind?"

"I... I can't do this anymore, Travis," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "Our paths, they're going in different directions. You want a family, a home. I want to build my career, travel, explore. I can't give you the life you want."

His eyes widened, disbelief and hurt clouding them. "What are you saying, Y/N?"

Tears welled up in your eyes as you fought to keep your composure. "I'm saying, I think we need to end this, Trav. It's not fair to either of us to keep pretending we want the same things. You deserve someone who can give you the life you dream of."

His jaw tightened, and he ran a hand through his hair, a mix of frustration and sadness painting his expression. "But I want you, Y/N. I thought we were building a life together."

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "I thought so too, but I can't ignore what I want, and I can't ask you to ignore your dreams. It's better this way."

He took a step closer, desperation in his eyes. "Can't we find a compromise? Work through this?"

You shook your head again, aching to reach out and comfort him. "We've tried, Travis. But compromises won't change what we fundamentally want from life. It's time to let go."

Silence hung heavily between you, broken only by the muffled sobs you couldn't contain. Travis reached out, his hand hovering in the air as if uncertain whether to bridge the gap. In that moment, your love, once fierce and unwavering, crumbled into the heartbreaking reality of your diverging paths.

With a heavy heart, you turned away, pulling your suitcase behind you. "I've already packed my things. I'll be staying with a friend tonight."

He remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor. As you reached the door, you hesitated, a part of you hoping he'd stop you, convince you that you could make it work. But the words never came.

"I'm sorry, Travis," you whispered, opening the door to a world where your love was now just a bittersweet memory.

[faroreskiss]

Triforce of Mischief

Summary: Chain sees that you have a particular tattoo and chaos is the only reaction they have, since language barrier is definitely a thing. Time & Twilight freak out. Wind could have spoken sooner.

1.8k words

Read on Ao3

Since this can also be read as a stand alone story, I didn’t include Hylian, or the dialects of the Chain. If you are interested in that, feel free to visit the main story that can serve as a prequel to this short! (Not edited)

Following your departure from the Ordon Spring alongside the other boys, you journeyed toward the Ordon Village. Most of their conversation still didn’t make much sense to you, but at least you learnt a few words here and there on the way, especially from the Smith and the Sailor. 

The midday weather was brisk, even though the sun shone at its peak. You had a similar attire with your travel companions, a relatively long sleeved tunic that sometimes revealed your wrists if you were to raise your arms. Yours had wider arm-cuts, but felt like they weren’t thick enough for this kind of weather. A slight shiver ran through you, which Link fortunately noticed. He paused and offered you his signature cloak, to which you politely refused multiple times (at least you motioned it somehow). His attempt to offer warmth made the fangirl within you scream in delight, but you kept declining. You blushed slightly and finally accepted even though you knew you weren’t that far from your destination, wrapping yourself in the warmth it provided. 

You thanked the Golden Three that you had been on hikes with him on Mt. Lanayru regularly before your involvement with the other Links; otherwise, you did not think you could survive all this hiking. Thinking about having to climb the ladder to the Rancher’s treehouse already made your legs wobble.

Though you could swear that the Ordon Spring waters calmed your nerves and eased your inner storm for a little bit. 

Luckily, you were almost there. The wooden arch that said… something in Hylian (probably ORDON?) took your attention. Oh you were so excited…

[And that’s me,] the Rancher spoke as he pointed towards his treehouse. This was really like the game, nestled in a secluded corner near the entrance of the village. You didn’t understand a word he said, but you could see near the tree there was a brown mare simply grazing around. 

And what a sight she was. You couldn’t help yourself as you whispered “Epona…?” to yourself and walked towards her as if you were in a trance. 

Of course, you didn’t notice the Old Man raising his eyebrow or the Rancher also hearing you. You stopped in your tracks, then watched the Rancher go towards the horse instead, petting it and saying something to it. He made eye contact with you as he was caressing her nose, and motioned you to come over, you guessed. 

“May I?” you asked, and even though the language barrier was still present, the Rancher gave a warm, friendly nod. As you approached Epona, her deep, soulful eyes locked onto yours, and it felt as if she understood the reverence in your gaze. With a gentle, careful touch, you began to run your hand along her sleek, chestnut mane, marveling at the silky texture beneath your fingers.

[Epona] he said, as he gave an apple to her. You just smiled, pretending to hear it for the first time and repeated her name. 

Epona seemed to appreciate the affection, and she leaned into your touch, her powerful frame radiating warmth and serenity. 

As you continued to pet Epona, your sleeves slipped down to your wrists, revealing a set of three small triangles on your skin. The right one was filled in with black. The Rancher and the Old Man both noticed this mark, and although they didn't say anything, they exchanged knowing glances.

When everybody finally settled in Twilight’s cabin, he lit the fireplace. His cabin had an air of rustic charm, filled with a cozy warmth that welcomed all who entered. The walls were made of weathered wood, lending the space a natural, earthy ambiance. The cabin had lanterns that hung from sturdy wooden beams overhead, which you imagined would cast quite the gentle radiance, once lit. 

The Chain kept talking between each other, though you didn’t understand much. Wind was all the way up, lost in his world. For some reason, really interested in Rancher's books.

You took off the cape Wild lent you and gave it back to him, since it started getting quite warm inside. You already had another layer under your long sleeved tunic, so you took the upper layer off as well, now sitting with the others (you secured yourself a chair at least) in a short sleeved shirt. Time and Twilight were still casting glances at you.

“What?” you stretched as you pointed the pointless question towards them. Not that it would change anything…You saw that Sky also managed to get a chair, and he was already kind of looking like he was about to doze off. Maybe you should have followed suit…

[Champion, you are sure Y/N does not have anything to do with the Hero’s Spirit or any sages?] Time asked Wild. He seemed quite perplexed by the question. 

[Or is she part of the royal family perhaps?] Twilight continued.

[Uh, no? Why?] Wild replied.

You just closed your eyes as you listened to them speak. It felt like listening to an audiobook in a language you didn’t understand, as a sleeping aid. Though you had a strange feeling that they were talking about you.

Legend and Hyrule were definitely listening in, though the former pretended as if he couldn’t care less, even though his ears definitely perked up at the mention of the royal family. 

[You mean the mark on her wrist?] Sky chimed in instead, to your surprise. The others seemed surprised that he was way more perceptive than he looked.

[What mark?] Four asked and then Time & Twilight explained the mark they have seen on your wrist.

The volume of the chatter was increasing, slightly annoying you. Wild gently poked your shoulder to see if you were awake, and you opened your eyes. There was no way you could sleep in this noisy environment.

He pointed at your left wrist, gently touching your arm after checking in with you, and motioning you to raise it. The whole room was staring at your Triforce of Courage ink now. 

Oh, right…

“Guys, it’s just a tattoo,” you tried to explain to no avail. 

It is hard to explain things when people literally don’t understand a word you say.

You could see Time & Twilight & Legend & Warriors and Sky comparing their faded Triforce marks on their hands, and Wild & Four looking confused about the whole thing. 

[I mean, I did say I sense some residual magic on her, but that’s definitely not what I was sensing,] Hyrule was saying as he glanced at your tattoo. 

[Members of the royal family don’t randomly get the mark of Triforce on their wrists, not unless they are Zelda at least,] Legend scoffed. Wind seemed to be not paying attention, still busy with Twilight's books upstairs for some reason.

[Well this is certainly odd, I never thought much about the mark, though we had other matters to attend to… But… What is Triforce?] Wild kept questioning, though he seemed to have forgotten that he was still touching your shoulder from the side. You sighed. It was fun at first, but now it was getting quite boring that you didn’t understand anything. Though it wasn’t that hard to guess…

[Yeah I was about to ask the same thing… I just thought that’s the symbol of the royal family or something?] Four added, making the rest of the group look at them in disbelief. Sky seemed especially distraught. 

The bickering continued for a while, and you kept thinking about how to explain this to them. Weren’t these people familiar with the concept of a tattoo? Of course, why you had something like that was another matter, but excuse you for wanting to get a Zelda-themed tattoo and considering the fact that you might end up in Hyrule?

Hmmm, what if I just show them something similar instead, to try to explain?

You sighed, stood up and walked towards Time and Twilight, while the group's curious glances still loomed over you. Right, these two already had some markings that were like tattoos, so you thought it would at least be a good parallel. 

Right after you pointed at your tattoo, you pointed towards the Rancher's face first, specifically to his markings. He had a confused look on his face, which quickly became an expression of horror, which seemed to have spread to some others in the group.

Wait…

[Farore above…]

What in Hylia's name was going on? That sounded grim, along with some others.

Next, you moved to Time, who was already sitting next to him. You mumbled a quick "Sorry…" for invading his personal space as you blushed, hoping he didn't mind. He was as stoic as one could get, you hoped he wouldn't somehow grab your wrist or something. 

You also pointed (almost touched, really) to his marks on his face, before you pulled back and pointed towards your tattoo again. 

"It's just a tattoo, why do you all look so judgemental suddenly?" You almost screamed in protest. You tried to make the motion of drawing the shape by yourself. Even tried pretending as if you have a nail and a hammer, and as if you are drawing on a skin.

I don't think tattoo pens exist here…

Time's eyes widened. The atmosphere in the room was even worse.

[How…?!] he said in shock.

You realized a little bit too late that it wasn't the smartest decision to point at his Wolf markings and Time's Fierce Deity Mask markings and then to yourself.

Because Twilight and Time kept speaking with each other, with Legend and Hyrule chiming in, the others watching you suddenly with suspicion, with Wild going between you and the others almost in a defensive stance. It was getting heated. Oh Gods…

Meanwhile, the Sailor finally decided to come down with a huge grin on his face, earning even more scornful looks from the others. 

Then he started laughing. 

Little rascal.

He knew.

He knew yet he did not step in until the last minute, pretending to browse the books and maps up there instead. 

You sighed almost in relief as you watched him try to explain things to others. At least, you assumed. 

It was quite clear that these were the heroes who held the Triforce of Courage, and not Wisdom. 

How could anybody not think of tattoos and just jump to the worst conclusions instead?!

But you were sure, the Sailor was especially deserving of the Triforce of Courage, since he dared to wait until the last moment instead of coming clean right away.

____________________________

It was only months later you found out what was said, and that there was an agreement to never ever mention the incident again. 

"I knew what it was right away," Wind smirked at you, after he explained what happened on that day. "We have a few people in the crew with some sick ink!"

Sure, you understood that there was some residual magic they sensed on you.

But… Was it really your fault that they immediately thought you could both be associated with twilight magic and Fierce Deity at the same time? Come on, even for this universe, it sounded cuccos. 

"Having that symbol tattooed is quite a choice though," Four gave you side eyes. 

You just shrugged.

Wind could have interfered earlier.

Little shit. If it existed, he would have gotten the Triforce of Mischief instead.

Back to Masterlist / Back to the Power of Understanding

[toomanythoughts4myhead]

A drop of poison goes a long way

Summary: More insight in Coriolanuses work life and the veil of what is going inside his past loves head is finaly revealed. Coriolanus is offered what he wants. Will it be his doom again?

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow and his brain; mentions of attempted murder, shooting, gun violence, prosthetic as result; Capitol people.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: I am so sorry it took me this long to write this. December wasn't 🎄Decembering🎄 it was 📝Decembering📝. I hope you enjoy and I will try to be more on schedule. Hope yall enjoy.

[<-Prev. chapter][Masterlist][Next chapter->]

Coriolanus liked to think of himself as a sensible individual by Capitol standards, to say the least.

Then why has he been on the verge of ripping his hair out for the past day and a half?

Ever since Dr Gaul had presented to him his "fixed" songbird he has been in a state of mind unbecoming of the image he has built himself to be. He even had to cancel his lunch outing with Solicis Saddler, a hefty sponsor of the games with an odd bloodthirst for someone who was missing most of his natural teeth and had gotten a tacky golden replacement.

Dr Gaul hadn't allowed for him to take you home or stay long, not that he had been able to protest, eyes glued to your form like ot would set you on fire or make you crawl back in his arms. He didn't want to think about the consequences; he knew he had failed whatever test this was supposed to be. He should have remained stoic and proud, barely sparing you a glance. Instead, he gaped at you, hopefully with a closed mouth.

He had gotten used to troubling his mind with various plots and schemes before bed, usually that kept his mind at bay and away from you. Now, you came back in strutting to render him powerless over his own being. He felt stupid and weak, unsure who to hate more - himself or you.

He decides he hates you most.

After the encounter, he had gotten back in his car and gone to work, collecting himself now that you were out of sight. With the rise of popularity after the 11th and especially 12th game the making of the Hunger Games had become a lot more professional and lavish, the personal had expanded and even changed and added buildings to the office.

As a head game maker, he worked and operated over the main building, the center, and the gem of the whole operation. The building itself was in various shades of whites and blacks, and all in-between, a lot of the structure was from black and white marble with golden cracks. Coriolanus liked working there, in his expensive suits and office at the top of the building, overlooking the whole Capitol. he felt powerful, as he should. He was the one in control.

The main game makers teams were separated and had multiple departments that discussed locations, structures, finances, networking and so on and forth, anything needed for the games to run smoothly and be as entertaining as possible. He was the one who organized meetings and approved ideas and made sure they would also be reasonable by the almost limitless budget. This meant he technically worked only a few hours; the other time, he spent building ties and attending lunches and dinners that would benefit him. Technically, since he is the head and face of the operating, whatever helped him helped the community. So, no one complained or questioned him.

This day was horrible and he breezed by most of it, he felt that on the back of his mind he was reliving this morning over and over and decided its best not to interact with one of his best sponsors when not fully with hus mind. He had fumbled some excuse on his way back from work that he didn't feel good, which was partly true.

Now, the hot water of his shower was burning his skin as he increased it again. He didn't like the burning hot but thus was about discipline. I remember who he was now and for what eh stood. He wouldn't allow you to take this away from him again.

His sleep was troubled and came upon him way too late, his skin felt raw and sensitive from the waterx maybe he shouldn't over do it too much, he wouldn't like for people to notice. His carefully glided back curls were sticking everywhere, and he felt aggitated, but he fell asleep in the early hours of the morning. Not uncommon.

° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ °

In the morning, he felt better. He rose with the same confidence he had adopted and went out for a run. At least his stay in the districts had taught him discipline and instilled the need to train his body, something all the spoiled and often drugged up or obese people of the Capitol seem to lack. It made him stand out, with his sculpted torso and wide shoulders, strong but not intimidating brutishly so, he filled out his shirts and suits in way he never could back when he was barely eating anything with substance.

It had snowed again last night, surely a good fortune. His sneakers left imprints in the still not cleared up paths in the near park, his breath fanned over his face in clouds of white smoke, he could feel the chilling air nip at his sides through the thin running clothes he had. He felt alive.

By this time, his avoxes were up and on the go, tending to the apartment and the his work clothes and breakfast. He knew their routine like the back of his hand, and so they didn't dare step out of it; it felt good. Each day he got the same royal treatment, no back talk (or any talk for that matter), after a while even he didn't have to talk to them, they knew what to do, he would often limited himself to simple commands. It was a pleasant start to his day since he had to deal with pompous arrogant moneybags for a living.

When he reached the street on which his apartment resided the sun was starting to turn the sky redish. He felt a faint sheen of sweat on his doby and shuddered as his body started to cool down from the exercise, what caught his attention was one of his avoxes waiting for him at the threshold of the apartment. Coriolanus raised an eyebrow as he approached, straightening his back and slowing down his breathing. Judging by the unsure look on their face he knew something had gone wrong, they weren't supposed to be here.

"Could you explain to me what you are doing outside?"

The avoxe looked up at him with gaze that held too much fear, sure he had punished avoxes before but not so cruelly. A mere doubling of chores or less food had been all he had done, merely disciplinary shows of power. The same way a dog needs to be taught, so do humans. The avoxe passed him a note, an envelope sealed with red wax in the capitols symbol. A message from the Citadel.

Coriolanus lifted an eyebrow. Receiving mail isn't exactly an out of the ordinary thing, he doesn't think it's really worth it freeze his ass of and catch something over a letter, but his gnawing intuition told him it was something bad. The realization seeped through and he felt an unpleasant churning in his timach as he ripped the envelope and read the letter.

It would hardly be called a letter since it consistented barely two sentences but It made his head spin.

"Take this as an encouragement from the staff of the Citadel for all your hard work. We hope you don't mind we clipped your Songbirds wings a little."

It wasn't signed but it didn't have to be. Who else could have scared his staff this badly but Dr Gaul? The implications of the letter set in and he barged into his apartment way too quickly, almaot shoving the avoxes down the stairs.

Snow fells and littered his floor, making wet spots on his white rug, but it wasn't the only thing tainting his apartment. There on his couch he found you, sitting cross-legged and fighting woth the decorative bouquet of roses on the coffee table. Your gaze snapped to him, watching hiw with curiosity and a startled look in your eyes as he stared back with such intensity it made you feel uncomfortable.

The hospital gown he had seen before had been switched for a creame white knitted dress that reached your knees and black leggings with boots, semi-useful for the weather and surprisingly basic for the extravagant taste of the Capitol. In the natural light seeping from the glass wall your prosthetic arm looked too natural. You looked too natural, unchanged, maybe even bettered by some fancy Capitol equipment.

What surprised him most was the way you looked at him.

He had spend a long time going over all possibilities of interactions between him and you, he had imagined a cold shoulder, yelling, screaming, maybe you would even try to attack him. But you looked at him with admiration, your face brightened as you placed your warm gaze on him. Not lovingly like before, you didn't seem to recognize him fully.

He walked closer until your knees were a hairstarnd away from his thigh and stopped. He didn't know how to react, he could feel the grasp of control he wielded best at his own house. You just had that effect on him, maybe it was the puppy smile on your face.

As he approaches you stand up, now he can clearly see the white bow on your head, truly wrapped like a present for him.

"Dr Gaul sends her warmest regards. And im here to thank you personally for all you have done for me."

Coriolanus despote everything found himself even more confused. Sure, he had done a lot of you: kept you alive during the Hunger games, cheat in the Hunger games for you, carry out some duty in district 12. He hadn't imagined you'd be thankful for it now. His lack of response must have confused you.

"I am so very thankful you saved me from the districts. I would have been left for dead if you hadnt sent your team of doctors to help me." - you add with a sweet genuine smile and loving gaze.

What?

"Well i couldnt leave my girl for dead among these animals. You know I'd do anything for you." - he smiled back and went as far as to gently grasp your hand in a sweet gesture.

He is grasping at loose straws here. It was evident that your memory was very... selective and altered. He could somewhat force himself to imagine that it was all due to the incident, but he knew better. This was all Dr Gauls idea and work. He needed to figure out more of the scenario Dr Gaul had constructed for you. And to find out how.

You seemed to like the gesture, squeezing his hand into your smaller one. Your hands were softer, not calloused or rough from playing guitar or surviving, but soft and inviting. Your nails were even done, he had to give it up.to the person in charge of your presentation, they had truly went all in.

"It all happened so fast, the doctors never filled me in fully of what exactly happened." - he said feigning ignorance and worry.

"It was horrible. After i returned i wanted to see my family so bad, but everyone turned on me. They chased me down through the forest because i had managed to get a glimpse of what thwy want - wealth and power, even if briefly from the Capitol. My own family tried to shoot me." - you said and it visibly made you upset, your voice became more uneven, wobbling lightly with along with your bottom lip.

Your own blood? You had no living family, you'd said so yourself before. It appears the lab team had decided to do this in the most dramatic way possible.

He put his thumb on your slightly trembling chin, running his knuckles over your reddening bottom lip and coo at you sympatheticly, as much as he could.

"My poor girl, im so sorry it took us this long to get you back and kicking. Those people certainly did a number on your poor body." - he ran his free hand up on the prosthetic bicep, it felt colder to the touch, not as squishy as human flesh and fat, but surprisingly close.

You nod into the palm of his hand, looking at him with big watery eyes. This is amazing, Coriolanus thought. He had you right how he always wanted you, under his thumb and eating out of his palm. You were like a frail little fawn waking up after the cruel winter had passed, everything is different but so so familiar. He would be your guide, he will show you the right way, he will be your light and your dark. You will worship and thank him for taking your control and responsibilities away.

All hate seemed to be burried for now, this opportunity made Coriolanus too excited, to have his favorite toy back. You weren't the girl who had sicked a snake on him, no, that girl was dead, trapped in her own body but permanently erased. Whatever he had now was the perfect doll with your face slapped on it.

"Oh my precious lamb, welcome home."

He cooed and tried to keep the sadistic glint in his eyes from showing too much. He put his arms around you, big hands digging into the warm material of your lower back, the rose ring on his pointer finger scraped the material. Your cheek was pressed against collarbone, nosing at his neck. Even a few seconds in his embrace and the sickeningly sweet smell of white roses was clinging to your whole body. Even a few minutes were enough for his poison to take root.

He runs his hands up and down your back, keeping you close. It felt good, to feel your warmth again, it made something tick in his brain whenever he felt your warmer weaker body against his. Call it animal instincts or a sick mind, neither are too far off.

"Ive missed you" he croons in your neck, his nose bumps your pulse point and it makes your head feel lighter. You are alsmot too loat in each other, but the feeling of being watched makes you open your eyes to find a nervous looking older woman. You instinctively true and pull away from Coriolanuses tight embrace but he doesn't let up, his hands just dig deeper into the fat on your hips and sides.

"Where do you think you are running off to? Are you not happy to be mine?" - he asked with a mocking tone but the intensity in his eyes never wavered.

"Corio, there is someone her-"

"Just an avoxe, no need to be shy. She wont say a peep." - replied clamly and stood back to his full height, keeping you good to his side like an accessory. Your face was held to his chest by the back of your neck, the hold wasn't strong but you hadnt tried to break free either. It made your cheeks burn a tad bit. "What seemes to be the problem?"

The woman stood still and pondered how to explain it without actual words but the loud bickering of an old man that could be also drunk and rattle of metal made Coriolanuses breath hitches for a moment.

Solicis Saddler.

He had promised dinner at his penthouse to make up for canceling, to go over the future plans of the games to keep the bloodthirsty man at bay and his wallet open for all gruesome scenes. Judging by his pompous screaming and yelling at his staff he had taken the invitation to heart.

Coriolanus had completely forgot about this. And it made him feel like the ever-growing tower that was his life was tilting, he was getting sloppy. He needed to focus again. He won't repeat the same mistakes.

Pressed against him, Coriolanus could feel you flinch as the octaves kept on getting louder. He needed to apologize to his neighbors tomorrow for all the chatter. He gave your waist a squeeze and kept you locked to him.

"Let him in."

(Not my best but lemme cook chat, i.swear ill do better next time.)

[ghostyclay]

Web of Lies hermitcraft AU (Summary/info post)

Grian is surprised when Jimmy contacts him, especially since they haven't spoken in years. Back then, Grian was still a journalist who secretly worked with villains and Jimmy was a young adult who got accepted into a hero program...

Apparently Jimmy had become a vigilante instead, and the reason he contacted Grian was because he and his civilian friend Joel were creating an underground fighting ring and they needed workers for the bar above it that functions as a cover up.

He's hesitant to accepts their offer, since he's been trying to stay out of any... Crime "Shenanigans" for the past few years since quiting his job as a journalist, but agrees after they assure him that they just need a civilian worker that won't rat them out to the heroes.

Everything goes well at first and Grian slowly gets to know the other staff members better, that is until he starts to overhear more and more strange conversations between his co-workers, mentioning a strange type of magic that has been causing chaos in the city recently. It sounds awfully familiar to a cult Grian knows from his time as a journalist in Evo.

Grian is determined to stay out of it, ESPECIALLY if it turns out he's correct about the watchers being involved, but he has to at least do something, right?

Or, Grian has to make a choice between his quiet life as a "civilian" and saving his friends. Determined to do both, he tries to influence the watchers games from behind the scenes without anyone finding out, even going as far as creating new secret personas. Too bad the watchers think identity reveals are incredibly entertaining...

!!Masterpost is here!!

more stuff below!

(These things might change slightly, but I'll keep updating this post as i write the fics/comics!)

Characters

Major characters: Grian, Joel, Etho, Mumbo

Important side characters*: Jimmy, Gem, Pearl, Evil X, Ren, Doc, Xisuma, Scar,

Other minor characters: Cub, Zedaph, Skizz, Beef, Tango, Bdubs, Cleo, Martyn, Scott, Impulse, Joe, Iskall, False, Stress

(*still count as major characters, but they r either only relevant during one arc, don't get much screen time, or don't influence the plot that much)

Relationships

The main ones r just.... All of the major chars ig? Like, Grian&Mumbo, Grian&Jimmy&Joel, Joel&Etho, Grian&Etho, Grian&Gem, Grian&Pearl,...

Side ones / only relevant during one arc: Grian&Evil X, Grian&Xisuma, Grian&Scar, Etho&Bdubs, Etho&Doc, Pearl&Scott, Cleo&Scott, Skizz&Beef,...

Theres also some side (friend)ships that im not sure about yet, mainly boat boys and rendoc, since i can't decide whether i wanna make them platonic, ambiguous or romantic 😭 feel free to tell me what u prefer!!!

[per1pete1a]

En Abime Resources

Hi!

I'm one of the players working on the ARG En Abime (which most people found from @/williamy3w) and I just made a little timeline to get new players caught up, so I figured I'd gather all our resources so far in the same place for people just getting started!

If you’re interested in trying your luck with no guidance first, the main website is here: https://www.en-abime.com and William's stuff starts here: www.en-abime.com/cylinder-restoration-help ! 

If you want to see what we’ve cracked so far and what we’re still working on, check out the main document here (maintained by @abstractkind.) I recommend the "FOR NEWCOMERS" section for links to the 70+ pages in the game -- it's designed to be fairly spoiler-light.

If you want a spoiler-light guide to see how the game has progressed since people started broadly playing it (around March 19th, 2024), find my timeline here (maintained by @per1pete1a )

If you want to see a visual representation of the website, check out this interactive map: http://abime.ignorelist.com/ (maintained by Paper). 

If you want to see a story summary based on what we think is going on, check out the story document here (maintained by @herearedragons).

If you want to chat with other players, join Tati’s discord here (warning: Tati, one of the characters in the ARG, might be able to see everything sent in the discord except the channel titled “?” Don’t talk about things in the main channels you don’t want her to see! Revealing info to characters can have big consequences.)

People have been generally using #en abime to post about it on Tumblr.

Hope to see you (or, rather, hope to not see you,) en abime!

~Perry (@per1pete1a)

[sunonyoreface]

He Knows - Simon “Ghost” Riley Pt. 15

An: Took a bit of a break to work on my school stuff, thanks for your patience and understanding! If you can't tell from this chapter, I really missed Soap. Lots of angst to come ;)

Hi there, this is a series about Simon Riley from COD. This series does not follow any of the established plots or timelines from the games. While I use the names of some characters, they are different from the ones in COD.

Summary: You’re held captive by 141 for reasons unknown.

Word count: 3700

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, angst, military setting, explicit language, graphic depictions of violence, use of guns.

Soap’s arm brushes against mine as we make our way to an unexpected meeting called by Captain Price. He’s the only stability I have right now. My joints feel weak and unnatural as they carry me through the corridor.

As soon as Ghost landed the helicopter in Ludza, I was ushered off and escorted to a solitary room somewhere deep within the base by a group of men I didn’t recognize. That was yesterday. This morning I’d never been so relieved to see Soap.

He says something along the lines of “It's been dunky's since I last saw ya,” and while I don’t have the slightest idea what he means, I’m just glad it’s him.

His right forearm is wrapped in gauze and looks like it’s supposed to be in a sling. Maybe it was in one for a day or so before he grew irritated from the lack of mobility and tore it off. I don’t know if the new injury is from his previous mission or the attack by the Ultranationalists, but I’m smarter than to ask about it right away.

“So, why did Price call a meeting?” I ask.

“Not sure, but it’s important enough for my whole schedule to change,” There’s something different about his voice.  I’m not sure if he’s annoyed or relieved. Maybe neither. Maybe he’s almost as concerned as I am.

The part of the building we’re in is underground. Most of the base is. It’s an eerie feeling knowing that if something went wrong, we’d be trapped down here. But this base is newer and better equipped than the last one. I get the impression that they use Latvia as their main base because it’s closer to Russia. Closer to the Ultranationalists. But I can only speculate. Maybe this is nothing compared to their other compounds.

I can’t stop thinking about Simon – Ghost – I don’t know what to call him. It’s like the names belong to two different people and I never know which one I’m about to encounter. One is reluctantly vulnerable, damaged, caring, and tender. He yearns for more. While the other… is, something else entirely. Ghost is cold and industrial, the perfect killing machine whose all stoicism and no emotional interference. There’s an indifference present with Ghost: he’s witnessed and partaken in so much violence, so much heartbreaking cruelty that every other human emotion is out of reach. They are two sides of the same coin.

I toss a quarter in my mind and pray it lands on tails. I catch it in one hand and flip it onto my palm. Soap opens the office door as I reveal its face: heads.

Dark eyes peer out from behind that damn skull mask. He stands just beside the entrance while Price leans against a table. The only thing on its surface is a clunky, black laptop.

“Sir,” Soap nods to each of them as I duck my head and follow in behind him. The last time this happened, everything changed forever.

“Sit down, y/n,” I know it’s going to be bad when Price skips the small talk. I feel my blood pressure rising. My neck is warm and my cheeks flush. I sit on the foldable chair directly in front of him. The brim of his hat dips as he looks down at me, still leaning against the table. Soap takes his place at the other side of the door opposite Ghost. Their eyes on me heighten my anxiety. “Take a breath darling, you look about ready to fall over.”

A weak, nervous laugh bubbles from my chest. I try and relax my shoulders but I think we both know this is as good as it’s going to get.

“I’d like to thank you for alerting us to the Ultranationalist’s plan, it greatly improved our reaction time. Probably saved some lives,” Price says, but in my mind drifts to the others that were lost as a consequence. “But for our sake, I need to know everything that prisoner told you.”

So I tell him. I like Price and he’s always been decent toward me, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared of him. Ghost didn’t plan this thing alone. He’s had a hand in everything I’ve endured and has less of an inclination than Ghost to trust me. I don’t know a lot about the English military, but I know his rank means something. He holds power. If he wanted me to disappear, I would without a trace.

As I talk about the things the prisoner said I hear a few grumbles behind me from Soap. I look predominantly at Price but cast a few glances at Ghost who breaks eye contact every time. His actions are far from reassuring.

“Fucking knew there was a mole,” Soap’s voice is bitter with distaste. Ghost shifts as he casts a warning glare in his direction. My mouth feels dry after talking so much.

“Not now, Sergeant,” Price cautions him. This is the kind of discussion I can’t hear. For all they know I’m the mole.

“Sorry, sir.”

“Y/n there’s one other matter we need to discuss,” his attention turns to me. I feel Ghost’s eyes intensify as he watches my reactions. Did he say anything? My heart skips a beat. The inside of my cheek throbs as I nervously bite down on the flesh. Surely he wouldn’t. Right? But their bond runs much deeper than anything he and I had for that single night. When it comes down to me or Price, Ghost would choose him a thousand times over.

Maybe he did say something. What happens then?

I look from Ghost who refuses to make eye contact to Price who won’t look away. He knows.

“It has to do with information discussed at the safe house,” breathing becomes incredibly difficult. My hands clench into fists. Deny everything. Nothing happened. Nothing.

“Okay,” I sound guilty. I sound treasonous. Ready to be put down by a firing squad.

“Lieutenant Riley said you expressed an interest in viewing our tapes of several Ultranationalist attacks,” Relief washes over me as my shoulders sink into the chair. Ghost didn’t tell him. “Specifically the ones involving your father.”

My eyes lock onto Price. His words spin around in my head and part of me refuses to believe I heard him correctly.

“My father?” Swallowing feels impossible. My throat is sandpaper the whole way down. My head is light and a sudden gust of wind could blow me away like a tumbleweed.

“Affirmative,” he uncrosses his arms to brace his hands along the table. “I have them here,” he tilts his head, motioning to the laptop. I look between him and Ghost who finally makes eye contact with me. He wasn’t lying. There really are videos.

My head starts to shake. “I don’t-“

“It’ll make what I have to say next a lot easier,” Price interrupts. What he has to say next? What’s next? What’s worse than this? How could watching my own flesh and blood commit a heinous crime make whatever he is going to say easier? My stomach turns.

“Okay,” I mumble. My hands are being forced. I don’t want to see whatever footage he has.

“Right then,” He moves away from the table to log onto the computer. Already pulled up, ready to play, is surveillance footage of an Ultranationalist attack. “This was in France. Nine months ago. At a soup kitchen.”

Price clicks play and I watch the scene unfold below. A group of armed men dressed as soldiers enter a packed building with people in line for food and sitting at rows of tables. The camera catches the back of their heads. Sewn to their shoulders is the identifying patch underneath the Russian flag. They line the walls and a staff member starts to approach just as they open fire on the crowd. Two minutes of chaos ensue until every single person is riddled with bullet holes. I feel the bile creep up the back of my throat as I sit there completely stunned at what I’m witnessing. It can’t be real. It can’t be.

As the dust dies down, the line of men turns to exit the building. It’s now the camera narrows in on their faces. Their unmasked faces. Not a single man is trying to hide his identity. No. They’re proud of what they just did. I recognize him immediately, even at a distance and in a uniform completely unfamiliar to me. The man leading the group is undeniably my father.

Devastation snags my jaw like a left hook and I feel my face start to crumple under the pressure. What the fuck. It’s real. It’s too real. The first tear falls and I quickly wipe it away, but I know they saw. I can’t stop my head from shaking. I can’t believe he would do something like that. The same man who raised me. Who I thought was so kind.

“Next one also took place in France. South this time,” Price’s voice remains calm. I feel ashamed. I feel dirty from his actions.

I watch three more videos of similar attacks. In the final one, there’s a closeup of the men involved. It’s the first time I’ve seen my father with a beard, but it’s still him through and through. My own flesh and blood. How could a man do something so horrifying? How could he justify his actions?

My stomach turns and I fight the urge to throw up. Full-body tremors take over my weak frame. I wrap my arms around myself in a small attempt to find comfort. I hate the fact that they see me in such a state. I’ve never felt so vulnerable in front of a group of people before. Let alone a group actively hunting down my family. If I can even call him that.

I wish I was back in that cabin, wrapped in Simon’s arms. He’s known this whole time. He tried to warn me.  If only I knew how bad it was going to get.

“It’s a lot,” Price starts. “Which is why I’m going to let you sleep on my next question.”

I nod, still staring at the floor.

“Will you help us lure him out?” I should’ve seen this coming. That’s what this has all been about. Using me to get to my father, maybe even Makarov. Ghost said so himself. But now they want me directly involved. Why?

“I don’t know,” I mumble.

“Think about it,” Price’s answer is short and to the point. He’ll give me time, but his patience is limited.

“Will you kill him?” my voice wavers. It’s a brave question, but I’m not brave enough for Price’s answer.

“That’s up to him,” his voice is resolute. The ambiguity of his answer is anything but reassuring. “That’ll be all for now. We’ll reconvene in the morning. Soap, she’s to stay in her quarters for the rest of the day.”

“Yes sir,” I feel his good arm on my upper back guiding me out of the room before I even realize what’s going on. In the hall, his hand rubs reassuring circles between my shoulder blades. “Do ya want food?”

“No,” I sniffle. I need to get it together before we pass the cafeteria full of men. “Thanks,” I mutter through a deep breath as I wipe my eyes for the last time. I find myself leaning into his touch. There’s a softness to Soap that’s too easy to get attached to.

My eyes are swollen, but at least I’ve stopped crying. Exhaustion seeps into my joints. Just walking feels strenuous.

“Still on babysitting duty, Suds?” a vaguely familiar voice taunts from across the room. A blond man in full gear leans against the entrance to the dining hall. He’s speaking to Soap, but his eyes never leave me. Chills run down my spine.

“Shut up ya fucking latrine queen, I don’t have time for your shite right now,” Soap shifts to my other side, placing some distance between myself and this man. He urges me to walk with a gentle hand but my feet start to slow.

“You know,” suddenly his voice doesn’t sound so vague. It’s the same man from the transportation van. The one who made crude comments toward us. The same one Ghost shut up by pulling rank. “Rumor has it you knew about the ambush.” The man raises his hand to point at me. Guilt swells in my chest.

There are only the three of us in the hall connecting the offices, cafeteria, and sleeping quarters, yet I’m afraid someone else will hear his accusations.

“Friday shouldn’t have gone down like that,” any previous teasing tone is gone. There’s real anger behind his words. “Our men died because of you,” I freeze at his words. The overwhelming feeling in my chest starts to spill over. Death follows me everywhere. He’s right. They died because of me. Others are still in the infirmary. Because of me.

Does he see my father when he looks at me? Is that what they all see? A contorted excuse for a human, twisted to the extent even mirrors don’t recognize?

Overwhelming anxiety and despair push me to the edge. I feel the tears threaten to fall again. I can’t let him see me cry. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

My feet take off sprinting down the closest hall, toward the sleeping quarters. My heart thunders in my ears, drowning out the sound of Soap calling after me. I don’t care. I need to get away from here. They blame me. They all blame me.

The empty corridor is lined with doors that blur as I run past them. Each leads to a room with a single twin bed. But no one’s here. Downtime isn’t for another while. I don’t know where I’m going. Anywhere. It doesn’t matter I just need to get away. Panic and adrenaline course through my veins. Tears cloud my vision and I can barely see.

When I hit the black object, It initially feels like a wall: hard and unmovable. But then his arms constrict around my torso, trapping me against his chest. I try and push off him which causes his grip to tighten even more. My mind flashes back to that night he held my arm so hard it bruised.

“How did you-”

“Where’s Soap?” Ghost’s unmistakable voice thunders in my ear. He sounds pissed. I blink away the newest tears. My emotions feel scrambled. His fingers press into my flesh. Ghost knows he has me. He doesn’t need to be this rough.

“Simon, you’re hurting me,” my throat is sore as my voice cracks.

His breathing falters and immediately the pressure is lifted. Ghost’s hands clench into fists at his side. I don’t know who he’s angry with anymore. Me, Soap, or himself? Part of me still fears him. Of what he’s capable of. Despite it, I don’t step away. I missed the heat of his chest seeping into my own. I want to feel the tenderness he’s capable of.

He sighs, collecting himself for another moment before speaking again. “Why are you running in the halls by yourself?” Ghost’s voice is significantly softer, but I don’t miss the urgency still present. A large hand brushes down my arm. It’s the only comfort I’ll get for days.

“I left him,” I mumble, refusing to make eye contact.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” I lie. The huff of his chest tells me he knows I’m lying. But there’s no time for him to push further. Feet thunder down the hall as the thick Scottish accent echoes off the walls.

“For fucks sake y/n,” Soap is audibly annoyed, but it’s only surface deep. “You can’t just run off.”

“Sorry,” the words tumble from my mouth. I hate this. I hate all the attention. All the expectations. Having to be on my best behaviour. The lack of freedom. All of it.

“What happened,” Ghost inches away from me as he turns his attention to Soap.

“I took care of it,” his thick words jumble together when he’s out of breath, but Ghost is used to it. What does he mean by “took care of it?”

“Is this something I have to tell Price?”

“Nah, shouldn’t be a problem again,” there’s a slyness to his tone. Soap tucks his hands into the side of his vest and it's now that I notice the red swelling at his knuckles. I watch Ghost’s eyes flicker down to the same spot.

“Right then,” he looks between the two of us. “I need to talk to you later,” Soap nods, seemingly already on the same page. Ghost casts one last glance my way before taking off. Conflict brews in the eyes beneath the skull mask. We need to talk. Question is, when? There’s a strange expression furrowed between Soap’s brows as he watches the interaction. One almost of suspicion.

I get an entire room to myself. I feel spoiled by this most basic accommodation. A twin bed, dresser, toilet, and sink. Like a luxurious jail cell. No windows. Not this deep underground. But at least there’s privacy. Tired feet drag their way toward the mattress.

Soap leans against the doorframe, bright blue eyes closely following my figure.

“What happened out there?” his voice is soft as he reaches for the door, slowly pulling it closed behind him. My eyes flicker from his to the swollen knuckles wrapped around the handle. My brain is foggy. His actions are slightly ambiguous. Does he mean today? Or at the safe house? The door silently latches into place as he blocks the only exit. What does he know?

“Out where?” I force myself to maintain eye contact. My hands nervously fist the comforter.

“The safe house,” Soap’s head tilts as he examines my reaction.

People are quick to dismiss Soap because of his openness towards others. He’s kind and doesn’t expect anything in return. There’s no hidden ulterior motive behind his actions. Johnny is simply a good person. And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t done the same thing.

But his kindness, his ability to connect with others makes him better at reading people than the rest of the task force. Next to Ghost, Soap is who you have to be so damn careful around. He’s been right there beside Ghost for more interrogations than I can count. But they’re not always bloody and violent. Sometimes they’re soft. Sometimes they’re done by someone you thought you could trust. The right interrogator will caress your cheek and wipe your tears as they coax exactly what they need from your swollen lips. Soap knows exactly how to get information from different types of people. He is dangerous. I can’t let my guard slip around him. He’ll know.

“What do you mean?” I ask, crawling further onto the bed to rest against the wall. I need to stay composed. For a moment I was certain Ghost didn’t tell Price, but I didn’t even consider Soap. They’re closer than anyone else on the task force. Their secrets have to run deep. Chances are he could know already but wants me to confirm it. Or Ghost lied to him and he caught on. What if my story doesn’t match his?

“He’s barely spoken a word since you returned. Something’s up,” Soap steps away from the door, cautiously closing in on the distance between him and the bed. I scan his face just as carefully as he does mine. But I lack the years of experience and training that he has. All I have is my gut. And right now I don’t know what’s the truth and what’s a lie.

“Nothing happened,” I attempt, but it’s apparent my words don’t take when Soap starts to shake his head.

“I don’t wanna do that with ya,” his voice is reserved as he crosses his arms. Nerves start to crawl their way back up my spine. Every part of me feels on edge.

“He was angry I didn’t say anything about the Ultranationalists before the attack,” I mirror him, folding my arms across my chest. It’s true. Just not the whole truth.

I watch as he processes my words. As his eyes narrow and his brows pull closer together. Soap’s sharp jaw angles down as he considers his next words. Something is eating away at him.

“Did he do anything?” I don’t hide the confusion stemming from his quiet words. What would he do? Why is that the first thing that comes to his mind?

“No,” It slips from my mouth in a rush, but I catch myself. “Well, we fought, but that’s it.” The sigh that escapes his chest is heavy and his stance remains closed off. I don’t know if he buys it. “It’s fine. Really. Soap I’m sick of talking about this. I know I fucked up. Every damn thing I do out here is a fuck up. Can we just leave it at that? Please?” I quickly wipe at the stray tear that escapes.

“Don’t talk like that lass,” Soap’s shoulders soften as he uncrosses his arms. His feet risk another step forward, but then he stops. Something about his expression is pained. His hand twitches at his side like he wants to reach out and comfort me. My mind drifts to how it would feel to have his strong arms wrapped around my frame, how safe it would feel…

Soap reigns himself in. He knows he’s tiptoeing the line of his assigned duties.

“Can I get you anything from the cafeteria?” He retreats into safer territory.

“No,” I sniffle. “Thanks.”

The heavy Steel-toed boots thud along the floor. “I’ll drop off a plate,” Soap says as he closes the door behind him. The loud clank of the lock rattles throughout the room. The fog clouding my thoughts mutes the aching betrayal throughout my body, eventually lulling me to sleep.

My father planned the murder of hundreds of people. Innocent people. Mothers and children. Refugees trying to build a better life for themselves. Vulnerable civilians unable to stand up for themselves. All for what? Political gain? What kind of a sick bastard views mass murder as a tool for power? I can’t believe I’ve been so clueless. Maybe he does deserve to die. Maybe we both do.

I don’t notice the plate of food sitting on the empty dresser the next time the door opens. Something else snags my attention.

My sleepy eyes narrow in on the dark, ominous shadow looming in the corner of my room.

Someone is here.

Pt 16:

[eddiemadmunson]

Angel - part 4

Summary: You are Heleana’s best friend and one day you catch Aemond’s eye and everything in your life will change upside down.

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Word Count: 3, 000

Warnings: dirty talk, suggestive themes, fingering, oral (f receiving), cheating

A/N: English is not my first language.

Aemond is 20, Helaena, Aegon and Y/N are 22, Jason Lannister is 25

Tag: @the-phantom-of-arda @hamatoanne  @aemondsdoll @schniiipsel  @okfashionista @zillahvathek @teranya @tempo-rary-fix​ @reneki​  @moonmaiden1996​ @padfooteyes​ @nina2697​ @ryswritingrecord​ @iiamthehybrid​ 

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

You walked towards the Targaryen house with 2 bottles of wine, actually looking forward to spend the evening with Helaena and your other friends Rhaena and Baela. It’s been a while since you had a girls night. And you seriously needed to talk about the situation with Jason with someone. He just made a scene when you told him that you will spend your evening at your friend’s house. He was extremely jealous of Aegon, which was ridiculous. It was Aemond who he should be jealous about. You still felt mortified about what happened under the table last week. It was definitely cheating and another reason why you had to think about your relationship with your boyfriend. Because you hated to admit it but Aemond and his wandering hand made you cum more intense in 5 minutes than Jason in the last 5 months.

You were about to ring the bell when the door opened, revealing very good looking Aegon. He definitely had a date. “Going to make some desperate girl, happy?” you teased him and he grinned. “Jealous, kitten? I can cancel it and give all of my attention to you,” he winked at you and you rolled your eyes.  “I think I will pass this amazing opportunity, Aegon. I prefer the company of your sister,” you said sarcastically and his eyes grew wide. “That’s hot,” he grinned and you scrunched your nose in disgust. Is he really getting turn on by the idea of you making out with his own sister? “You are such a pig, Aegon,” said Helaena who heard the end of your conversation with her brother. She obviously had the same opinion as you. “I was joking, Hel,” he grinned at his twin. “Whatever, go away before Rhaena and Baela come down the stair and kick your ass for annoying Y/N,” she smirked when Aegon visibly paled. He was actually scared of Baela, that girl hated him and already kicked his ass when he tried to seduce her drunk sister couple months ago. “Enjoy your evening ladies,” he winked at you and hurried away. “He is such a clown sometimes,” Hel snorted and rushed you inside the house. You had really good time with the girls, you were laughing and drinking, gossiping about your classmates and professors. Baela was the first who addressed the main topic of the evening - your sex life, and you didn’t like it at all.  “Y/N! Hel told us that your boyfriend sucks,” she said out of nowhere and you almost choked on wine you were drinking. “What? That’s not true,” you tried to protest weakly. “Come on, Y/N. We love you and we want you to be happy in your life. And Jason isn’t the one who makes you happy. He acts like he is already the boss of his father’s company, he never has time for you and when he does he takes you to some fancy restaurant or to see opera or something”. “He likes opera,” you explained. “Yes, HE likes opera. Do you like opera, Y/N?” she asked. “No, you don’t, it bores you to death, you love going to concerts, fairs, football games, cinemas, bars... he never goes with you because it’s below him,” Hel answered her own question and you sighed knowing that she is right. You were always doing whatever Jason liked or wanted. He never asked you what you want to do to or where to go. He never spent time with your friends because he didn’t like them, especially Helaena and Baela. “Maybe he is very good in bed and that’s the reason why she is with him,” Rhaena suggested and all three girls looked at you curiously. “Ehm.. he is OK, I guess,” you shrugged and Baela snorted. “So he sucks even in bed, girl, dump him!” she shouted.  You had no idea that Aemond is in his room next to Helaena’s. He ignored your silly talk the whole time but he heard Baela shouting and he curiously walked out of his room and silently tiptoed to his sister’s ajar door.

“I didn’t say that he sucks, I said that he’s OK,” you tried to defend your boyfriend. “So you basically say that he is boring in sex as he is boring in everything else,” Baela smirked and folded her arms on her chest. “Is he fucking you in another position than missionary?” Baela continued firing questions at you. “Ehm... sometimes when he is tired he wants me to ride him,” you said and Hel snorted. “That lazy ass let you do all the work, how typical,” she added. “Does he at least eat your pussy well?” Baela asked and you blushed wildly. “He doesn’t do that,” you said quietly. “What?? He doesn’t eat your pussy?!!!” Baela shouted loudly and you quickly covered her mouth with your hand. “Jeez, Baela! Can you shout more loudly? I think that the old lady living across the street didn’t hear you,” you scolded her. Baela was fighting with you and Aemond smirked behind the door, this was very interesting conversation. “I am sure that a lot of guys don’t do it,” you said few moments later when you stopped wrestling with her.  “Good boyfriends don’t have problem with it, Y/N,” Rhaena said softly. “Jace does it, Cregan does it, Luke does it,” she listed and you stopped her. “How do you know about Lucerys?” you asked, shocked that she knows such a information. “Don't you know? They are dating,” Baela smirked. “Isn’t Luke much younger than you?” “He turned 18 few months ago, besides there is nothing bad about younger guys, they have more energy, you should find someone younger too, Y/N, someone who will left you breathless and pleasantly tired,” Rhaena winked and Aemond's face immediately came to your mind but you quickly abandoned that thought. “OK, so three guys you know eat pussy, that’s not a proof,” you said stubbornly. “Well, we all know that Aegon does it too,” Baela said with disgusted frown, reminding you all about the time when he was caught in principal’s office with his head between principal’s daughter's thighs who laid spread on his desk. “And I am sure that Aemond is also good at this, with that sharp tongue of his,” Rhaena added and Hel covered her ears. “Ewww, stop discussing my brothers and their bed activities, I don’t want to hear this,” she shouted and Aemond was having a good time behind the doors listening to the whole conversation, suddenly he heard his mother walking up the stairs and he quickly disappeared back into his room. The girls were teasing you about Jason for another 30 minutes. After that they said that it’s up to you, but you really should reconsider your relationship with him. After that you went back to the talking about anything that came to your minds. You finished all the bottles of wine you brought and Hel convinced you to stay overnight you were slightly tipsy and this wasn’t the first time you slept here, so you agreed. Unfortunately Hel fell asleep before she had a time to prepare a bed and something to sleep in for you.   You stood under the water, trying to wash away the bitter taste you had in your mouth after the chat with the girls. You hated that they were right. You probably should break up with Jason. There was no passion, no undying love. You were with him, because he treated you nicely and you felt safe with him but the girls were right, it wasn’t enough. You walked out of the shower feeling much more sober now. You realized that you don’t have any clean clothes with you. You didn’t want to go through Helaena’s wardrobe so you grabbed the folded T-shirt lying on the washing machine, it looked clean and smelled like fabric softener and something else you couldn’t identify. You pulled it over your head and hoped that whoever this T-shirt belonged to wouldn’t mind that you borrow it for the night. You tiptoed back to Helaena’s bedroom and quickly fell asleep on a sofa. You woke up 2 hours later feeling thirsty. You tried to ignore it and fall asleep again, but it was getting worse and worse. You cursed silently and rolled out of the bed and quietly opened and closed the door. Hel was a heavy sleeper, you could shot the gun next to her head and she doesn't move. But you didn’t want to wake up the rest of the house.  You thought you were quiet as a mouse, but at your slightly tipsy state you were actually making a lot of noise. Alicent and Viserys had their bedroom in the other end of the house so they didn’t hear a thing, Aegon was out and Daeron was at his friend’s house. Unfortunately for you the only awake member of the Targaryen family was Aemond who was working out in their home gym under the stairs. He heard your clumsy steps and smirked for himself. He slowly walked out of the gym, dressed in grey sweatpants and tight white T-shirt, his hair in messy bun so it’s not falling into his face while exercising. He quietly walked into the kitchen, silent and elegant like a cat. He leant against the door frame, watching you trying to grab a glass from the top shelf, you stood on your tiptoes but you were still missing few inches. You were dressed only in panties and oversized T-shirt. His T-shirt. He smirked and slowly approached your cursing figure. “Why the fuck is everyone in this family so tall?” you curse-whispered and desperately tried to reach one of the glasses, when you felt a presence behind you. You wanted to turn around when you felt familiar body pressed against yours. Aemond had a strange obsession with trapping you between his built body and other surfaces. He reached for the glass, taking it with ease from the top shelve, placing it next to you on the counter. “Are you thirsty, angel?” he whispered against your ear, his breath tickling your ear, sending shiver down your spine. “No, I just decided to rearrange your kitchen in the middle of the night, asshole!” you snapped at him quietly, trying to ignore the effect he had on you. “Always so feisty,” he chuckled.  “Tell me, Y/N. Is the water the only thing you are thirsty about?” he asked you mysteriously. “What the fuck are you talking about, Aemond?” you whispered, confused as hell. “I think that you are so bitchy, because you feel really unsatisfied, angel,” he said and you felt his lips making contact with your throat as he was talking while his hand played with the hem of your shirt. “What the fuck are you talking about!” you tried to move away from him but you were trapped. “I am saying that you need someone to fuck you properly, so you won’t be toxic like this to people,” he started kissing the side of your neck slowly while his hand slipped under your shirt. “I am only toxic to you, asshole!! Let me go!” you wanted to say firmly, but his lips felt amazing on your skin and your voice was shaking. “Hmmm, so you want me specifically to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk straight the next day,” he continued, sucking on your throat and you had to bite your tongue to keep yourself from moaning. Your neck was a really sensitive place for you. Aemond's big hand covered most of your belly and you loved that, Jason had ridiculously small hands for a man and he never gripped you as possessively as Aemond. You shivered and Aemond smirked, the tips of his fingers reached the hem of your already soaked panties. “Stop it, you can't do this!” you tried to stop him from touching you again. “Why?” he smirked and grazed your neck with his teeth, his fingers brushing against your clit lightly. “I have a boyfriend!” you breathed out, desperately fighting with your own body which wanted to succum to his touches. “That’s not my problem, angel,” he ignored your protests and circled your clit. “I heard a very interesting conversation earlier. About your boyfriend’s sex abilities,” he smirked when he heard the tiny moan escaping your lips as he pressed your clit more firmly with his long fingers. “Eavesdropping is very rude, you asshole, oh fuck," you cursed as he slipped two of his long fingers inside you. You were shamelessly wet and of course he had to comment on it. "You were saying??" he smirked "Look at you, what a filthy little angel. Your cunt is dripping for me. One touch and you are wrapped around my fingers, Y/N. Soon you will be wrapped around my cock, like the needy little slut you are," he purred against your neck and you wanted to slap him and beg him to add another finger at the same time. He kept pushing his skilled fingers inside you in slow rhythm, getting you close to your orgasm shamefully quickly. Your pussy clenched around him and seconds before you cum he stopped. You whined desperately. "So needy, so fucking wet for me, for someone who you call asshole all the time," he teased you and sucked on your neck again. "Have you ever tasted yourself, angel?" he asked casually like it was normal conversation theme while his fingers slipped back inside you and he started building your orgasm once again. You shook your head no, moaning quietly as he curved his fingers and his palm brushed against your clit. "Aemond please," you begged him, all dignity left your body, you just wanted to cum. "When you beg so nicely," he chuckled and slipped his fingers out of you again, earning a frustrated groan from you. "Open!" he ordered. "That's not what I meant," you protested when you realized that he wants you to suck your juices from his slender fingers. "I said open, Y/N!" he repeated, ignoring your complains. His fingers brushed against your lips, spreading your wetness on them, he slipped them inside when you gasped at the taste. "How does it taste, angel?" he asked you, his lust filled voice dropped an octave. You didn't respond and only hummed in appreciation. "Suck," he ordered and you obeyed immediately, sucking his fingers deeper into your mouth. "Good girl," he purred against your ear and you rocked your ass against his hard cock straining his sweatpants. "So fucking needy, grinding against me, like a horny slut. You want your cunt filled with my thick cock, don't you, angel?" he mocked you and you were too horny and dizzy to care. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, wrapping them around your throat and angling your head towards him, crashing his lips to yours. Kissing you slowly but possessively. His tongue exploring your mouth like it was a new land he wanted to conquer. The kiss was messy but full of passion. He tasted you on your lips and he needed more. He turned you around and crushed his lips to yours again. Devouring you like a starving man. You were afraid that your lips will be bruised the next day. He led you to the kitchen table and placed you on it. He spread your legs and stepped between them. His hand teased your nipples, twisting them painfully but you loved that intense feeling. You moaned into his mouth, feeling like your whole body was on fire. “Do you like to tease me, you little slut? Walking around my house dressed only in my shirt and your panties, hoping that you would run into me?” he groaned into your ear, groping your breasts over his shirt. “I didn’t know it’s yours,” you whimpered when he wrapped his hand around your neck, making you look into his intense eye. “I swear, I didn’t have anything to sleep in, so I grabbed the first piece of clothing I found,” you explained, feeling dizzy when his hand pressed against your throat. “Fine, I believe you, angel,” he kissed your lips slowly, almost lovingly, surprising you with this gentleness. He stopped kissing you and looked you in the eye, you could see something quickly changing in his blue eye, the gentleness was gone replaced with wicked glint.   "Time for new life experiences, angel," he smirked and before you could process his words he was kneeling between your legs, ripping off your panties. You squealed and gasped when you felt his tongue licking your soaked pussy for the first time. "Oh my God," you rasped. "Call me Aemond," he chuckled smugly and you wanted to suffocate him with your thighs. "Lay down," he pushed you on the table and all will to protest left your body as he started eating your pussy expertly. He licked from your dripping opening to your clit, sucking that little bud into his mouth, causing a loud moan slipping from your lips. "If you don't want my whole family to find you here spread on our eating table, I suggest you to keep your voice down," he said and went back to sucking and slurping at you. You were feeling like if your soul left your body. You have never felt such an intense pleasure in your life. He was good at this, really good. He read your body like an open book. Whenever he did something you liked he remembered that and came back to it moments later. You were a drooling mess, babbling nonsense, getting closer to your orgasm with each stroke of his tongue. You lifted yourself slightly, watching him eating your cunt like it's his favorite meal. He looked up at you and smirked. You were absolutely wrecked, under his spell, willing to do anything to find your release. "Fuck, Aemond, I am gonna cum, please let me cum," you whined desperately. He slipped his fingers inside you again, his tongue circled clit before he started sucking on it again as he watched your face, his eye shining in the dim moon light. He had you where he wanted you to be. On edge, crying, begging him to let you cum. You were so close. Few swipes of his tongue and you will be cumming with his name on your lips. And at that moment he stopped. "Why did you stop?" you whined desperately, trying to chase your orgasm. But without his fingers and tongue you felt empty. He smirked darkly and leaned into your ear. "Tell your boyfriend to finish you off when you come back home to him, angel," he laughed cruelly and walked away, leaving you sitting there absolutely humiliated and horny. 

Part 5

[radiant-vulpine]

A post about TENNA & MIKE, and why they matter. (Official Deltarune Analysis)

So this is a post I'm doing since I've heard a couple people outright brush off Tenna's big reveal in Sweepstakes, treating Mike as a primary antagonist, despite Toby trying to make it clear this isn't the case. So, this post is going to go into WHY this bothers me, what I think about Tenna and Mike outside of Vision Crew, etc. 1 - Mike is likely a mutual ally to Spamton I've seen a hell of a lot of people making Mike their primary antagonist even after the Sweepstakes lore reveals. This is something I can forgive if a project predates it, as it's EXTREMELY difficult to rewrite things like that. But, when you make a new project, it's a good idea to look into what we know about Mike through dialog. - Spamton knows him - He's associated with TV - ... That's essentially it? Usually, yes. But with Sweepstakes, we've learned another piece of crucial information. Mike is NOT the Cathode Screen. Mike is someone being protected from the "Cathode Crew."

So Mike's not the TV?! Then who the hell is? ... Well, a new character was revealed and namedropped similarly to Mike during the Sweepstakes. Out of nowhere... 2 - Who is Tenna?

We don't know very much about "Tenna." At all, really. The ONLY thing we know is a name and potential affiliation. Spamton shows disdain towards them, if the URL is him. So everything from beyond here is very speculative.

So... in the game, the TV is referred to as a lot of things.

We know Spamton kinda wants to wring this guy's neck. Almost every reference he makes towards TV is given negative connotation.

Personally, my working, NON VC theory is... 3 - Mike is our secret boss, Tenna is our main boss. This is a little bit of a shot in the dark, very very dark actually. It's like throwing a rock into an abandoned mineshaft. But, there's a few things that make me think this way. - Mike being on the run means he may be hidden away somewhere out of sight. - Tenna is the only character whose name is overtly connected to the TV, who is tied to being an antagonist. - Mike & Tenna as a word combination forms a sort of wordplay. None of these things are points, this last little segment is a bit more of a tangent with VERY loose thoughts that are most likely a shot in the dark. So, in summary... I think making Mike a primary villain is silly. Of course, I can't stop you! Feel free to do your own thing with it. Most of my favorite takes actually have Mike instead of Tenna... But, I'd really suggest looking into the lore given through Sweepstakes. It's the only real peek we have at Chapter 3 that isn't development info from the Newsletter!

[sillygoblinantics]

This is something that’s been running rampant on my mind for a couple years now so ima share it with yall here since it’s about one of my favorite hyperfixations. So let’s talk about

Pokémon Legends Arceus — misinterpreting art direction

By Bri/gobbo

Pokémon legends arceus or PLA for short, came out two years ago (almost now) of January 2022 to much anticipation of long time fans. Many of which being artists (like me) with a compelling premise and enticing story and worldbuilding the game was a hit if you ignore complaints of non fans and snobs.

So… what’s the deal?

Unfortunately as demand and quota rises the need to produce and release content gets worse and worse for the industry as with harsh deadlines, the long time need for quality is cut off by the need for deadlines. Which is why I am at ease to know that we were given the announcement from gamefreak and the Pokémon company that the next game would take two years instead of the short one year delay for the next installment to the main game or side game lines. But I’m not just saying this to fill this with words, my point is to stress the toxic work environment that many people in the industry go through but given this news is an opportunity to look forward to the wellbeing of both the people behind this franchise and game as well as the attention to detail that goes into each release.

Pt II — graphics

My second and main gripe I’ve held is to the complaints of how the game looks. Which I don’t get, it might be because I had only recently taken art history while in college (which I would highly recommend taking because it will change the way you see the world!) or could be wearing “toxic nostalgic lenses” that cloud judgement. This won’t change the fact that I don’t see any story or visual issues with the *look* of the game.

Backgrounds:

From close observation into the textures of the plants and trees in PLA I could tell off the bat that it was meant to resemble or what I theorize to be based on traditional ink painting or Sumi-e. The distinct weight of the leaves and bark may just be standard textures but through a stringent lense you can see the dilution and bleed of line. A lot of landscapes are often a meditation through each stroke of the brush the piece reveals a serene whimsy view.

The Pokémon

“Oh the pokedex should’ve had more style and traditional pieces!” —a exaggeration and summary of what I’ve heard on YouTube who’ve discussed the visuals of PLA

I think in terms of one of the main missions and plot line of PLA is to create the first pokedex! and for something so important to the safety of humans who are coming to settle in Hisui/Sinnoh they need to have access to a book with images as soon as possible with enough for everyone. It makes sense for the Pokémon to look “flat” as there’s one traditional art form that has made the spread of Japanese art possible; woodblock prints or as it’s called:

“Ukiyo-e”

But outside of the pokedex the models of the pokemon are just as good with the same inky look that the backgrounds and game has already!

Also shiny hunting… but I’m getting ahead of myself!

My point for this is simply to not judge and criticize a work without getting a proper understanding of the culture and art history that might’ve gone into the piece!

And it’s also why I’ve been going absolutely feral for PLZA because WERE GETTING KALOS DURING MY FAVORITE PERIOD OF ART AND WRITING HISTORY!!!!

Romantic period and realism!

Which means…

THE OUTFITS ARE GONNA BE GOOOOOD!!!!!

Also hisuian lilligant is based on a figure skater…

[aemiron-main]

Who Is Edward Creel? If You’re Confused About Him, Read This Post

So, I’ve been seeing a lot of people asking about Edward Creel and who he is and what the hell people are talking about with him, so I figured I’d make a big general post about Edward. You can skip to the end for a bulletpoint TLDR summary.

Where Did Edward Come From?

I originally noticed him here, in the Indianapolis Gazette article about the Creel murders, and made an initial post about his name just being a reference to the idea of Vecna using Eddie/Edward Munson as a corpse puppet.

However, as I went through more of the Indianapolis Gazette, I realized that this goes WAY, WAY beyond “corpse puppet Eddie,” references, and rather than “Edward Creel being a reference to Edward Munson,” it’s actually the other way around, and Edward Munson is a reference to Edward Creel and has multiple lines that reinforce the idea of Edward being Vecna rather than Henry.

Here is a large post about some of the timeline differences, and it’s a post that’s been sitting in my drafts for a LONG time and is what initially prompted me to look further into the multiple timeline stuff/the concrete differences between Edward’s timeline and Henry’s timeline.

As far as “where did Edward come from in-universe?” goes though, THAT is a much more complicated question, one that I’m still trying to answer.

Who Is Edward Creel?

So, who IS Edward? Well, I very much think that Edward is Vecna, and here’s why:

1.) I talked in this post about the parallels between ST and Jekyll and Hyde, specifically regarding Henry Creel and Edward Creel versus Henry Jekyll and Edward Hyde, and how Jekyll and Hyde and ST tie into Carl Jung’s theory of the shadow. I would recommend reading that post for a solid intro into the idea that Edward is Vecna and the relationship between Edward and Henry and Edward being Henry’s “shadow self”.

2.) Eddie/Edward Munson is literally Vecna in the DND game- just like how Edward Creel is actually Vecna, they’re meant to parallel eachother.

3.) All of the name weirdness where there’s that whole scene with Robin and the Hawkins gang being uncle to figure out what to call Vecna (Vecna or Henry or 001), and how even though the supposed plot twist was that Henry was Vecna, it’s actually that 001 was Vecna, and we don’t know for sure if Henry is 001 due to the Edward weirdness, and all of the continued debate about names after the supposed plot twist/reveal tells me that we still aren’t done learning about who Vecna actually is. Especially since at the end of S4, Will just talks about “him,” and how he can still feel him, and doesn’t name him. You’d think if Vecna was Henry, they’d throw in a reference to Henry there, and that in general, they’d draw a stronger link between Henry and Vecna rather than drawing that link between 001 and Vecna, which is what they’ve done.

4.) There's some other reasons too, but I'm still finishing up the analysis posts for those.

How Is Edward Creel Connected To Henry Creel?

So, this is a question that ties into the question of “where did Edward Creel come from in-universe?”, and as such, is also a difficult question to answer. However, right now, these are the main theories about where Edward came from and how he’s connected to Henry (none of these are in any particular order, like 1.) isn’t the top theory or anything):

1.) Edward was split off or cloned from Henry in Hawkins Lab as part of Brenner’s attempts to recreate Henry, and then something happened with timeline and time travel weirdness, and Edward ended up with his whole own timeline where he grew up in the Creel house instead of being cloned/born in a lab.

2.) Edward and Henry are eachother’s naturally-occurring equivalents from different timelines, and one or both of them and/or the lab were messing with time and ended up swapping timelines/temporal displacement stuff.

3.) Henry and Edward were born as actual brothers in the same timeline but something happened with timelines splitting and they ended up in different timelines.

How Is Edward Connected To Timeline and Time Travel Weirdness?

So, I already talked about this post where I compare Edward’s timeline with Henry’s timeline and all of the drastic differences, but it goes beyond just different timelines, because we have all that imagery of Henry/Edward turning back a clock with his mind, and all of the general timeline weirdness/time travel imagery in ST, in addition to Vecna’s clock imagery.

I’m still figuring out exactly what happened and how he’s connected to Henry and timeline weirdness, but there’s definitely a big connection there, especially considering birthdaygate and the fact that in Edward’s timeline, the Creel murders happened on Will’s birthday.

Transcription of The Indianapolis Gazette Article Involving Edward

So, this is just a transcription of the article relating to the Creels, not all of the articles in the page (although I AM finishing up analysis posts of those articles).

Paper Title: Indianapolis Gazette

Publication Date: Thursday, March 26th, 1959. (MIGHT say 1958, but most likely 1959)

Article Title: 3 Dead as Police Probe Grisly Scene

Subtitle: Bodies Left Mutilated, Eyeless, Creel Defiant

Column 1:

Bulletin

"Local family man, Victor Creel, murdered his wife and two small children Saturday night.

The bodies were discovered early Sunday morning after Creel was found wandering aimlessly along the side of Highway 49, South of Hawkins.

Deputy John Snow from Hawkins Police Department intercepted Creel and made the discovery upon returning him home. The bodies of three persons have been found inside the home of a 35-year-old Town of Hawkins Roane County family man. Law enforcement officers searching Sundary Morning for signs of foul play found the bodies of Virginia Creel, Edward Creel, and Alice Creel strewn about the foyer of the house, six miles from downtown Hawkins.

Sherif fJack Kaulfield of Roane County and Director Larry Peacefield of the State of Indiana Crime Laboratory kept newsmen from the site Sunday.

Roane County Dist. Atty. ParkerJones said today that Creel had broken his silence that he "might of" killed the victims and admitted to being present when the victims died. Shortly after 11 o'clock, this morning, Creel was taken from the jails at Hawkins by Jack-" (article cuts off)

Column 2

"Officers who had been at the scene said these things were among those found at the Creels' home: The eyeless, mutilated body of Mrs Creel, "butchered, like you would clean a deer," according to one law enforcement officer. The mangled and eyeless bodies of the two young children- Virginia and Edward- laid deflated and bent on the floor of the foyer. Creel at first told authorities he knew nothing about the things that occurred at his house. He is decribed as 5 feet 10 inches tall, weighing about 158 (?) pounds, with light skin, light brown hair, and "appearing slight and unable to perform basic motor functions"- a condition likely brought on as a result of the psychological consequences of committing the murders, said head psychiatrist at Pennhurst Asylum, Alexis McMurry. Creel was known around town for his generosity and the Creel Family was regularly seen at Sunday Mass at St. Phillip's Catholic Church on Sundays. Which has led many locals to wonder what led Creel to commit such ghastly acts. A veteran from the second world war, VIctor Creel served two tours of duty in Europe and returned home a hero. After moving to-" (article cuts off)

Caption Under Photo

House of Horror

Here is the house in which the Creels lived for the last two years where authorities found the remains of Alice, Edward, and Virginia Creel- Victor Creel's wife, son, and daugther- Early SUnday in what police are calling "the most grisly set of murders the town of Hawkins has ever seen"

What Is Edward’s Timeline/Thw Indianapolis Gazette Timeline?

Here’s the key events and info that you should know if you’re interested in Edward’s timeline/the Indianapolis Gazette timeline:

Edward moved to Hawkins in 1957 and lived there for two years.

Edward’s father is Victor Creel, and his Victor is 35 years old as of 1958.

Edward’s mother is Alice Creel, and her age is not listed.

Edward’s sister is Virginia Creel, and her age is not listed.

The Creel Murders happened on March 21st, 1959 in Edward’s timeline.

How are Connie Frazier and Alice Creel and Mike Wheeler and Eleven Connected To The Edward Timeline?

Remember how I mentioned that Edward’s mother is named Alice, NOT Virginia (unlike Henry, whose mother is Virginia)? Well, that’s who “Mother Alice,” is (if you’ve seen me using that name on my blog), and I also think that she’s Connie Frazier.

I originally posted here about Connie being Henry’s sister, Alice, prior to the realization of how she connected to the Edward timeline, but then that turned into the realization that Connie is more likely Edward’s mother, Alice, rather than Henry’s sister, Alice. I’d recommend reading that post, so I’m not going to retype it all here, but the name “Alice,” plays repeatedly in the song “White Rabbit,” when Connie is on screen. I’ve got more Connie posts here and here. Mother Alice’s death in the Hawkins Middle School hallway in S1 even parallels Daughter/Sister Alice’s death at the Creel house in 1959.

In this post, I talk further about Connie being Mother Alice, but I also talk about something/someone else in that post- Karen Wheeler.

I think that Karen Wheeler is Sister Virginia/Virginia Creel from another timeline (the Edward timeline). I’ve got more posts about Karen being Daughter Virginia and Virginia-Karen parallels here, here, here, and here.

As well, @henrysglock has a bunch of great posts about how Eleven ties into this, as Eleven is likely Edward’s daughter in one timeline (daughter in the sense that he’s her biological father due to Brenner trying to recreate Henry/Edward).

However, if Eleven is Edward’s daughter in the Edward timeline, and Karen Wheeler is Edward’s sister in the Edward timeline, then doesn’t that make Mike and Eleven blood cousins? Yes.

I posted here, here, here, and here, about Edward Timeline Victor being Karen/Daughter Virginia’s father and therefore being Nancy, Holly, and Mike’s grandfather.

Summary

So, here’s the current main thoughts to know about Edward Creel:

He was originally found here, in the Indianapolis Gazette.

He is very, very likely Vecna, rather than Henry Creel being Vecna.

He has a timeline that is different from Henry Creel’s timeline.

Even in the definition of a timeline as “a series of dates,” and setting time travel/multiple timeline weirdness aside (even though he IS very much involved with that) his series of dates is canonically, indisputably, different from Henry’s, thus, literally different timelines even in the most basic sense.

His mother is Alice Creel and his sister is Virginia Creel, the opposite of Henry’s mother and sister.

The Indianapolis Gazette DOES NOT mention Henry Creel at ALL. ONLY Edward and mentions him repeatedly as being Victor Creel’s son.

Edward’s father is still Victor Creel, but his Victor is younger than Henry’s Victor, as Edward’s Victor was 35 in 1959 and Henry’s Victor was 40 in 1959.

Edward Creel lived in Hawkins for two years, and moved there in 1957.

In Edward’s timeline, the Creel murders happened on the night of March 21st and were discovered on the morning of the 22nd (Will’s birthday), whereas the murders happened on the night of March 25th in Henry’s timeline.

Edward Creel’s body was supposedly found with his eyes gouged out (whereas Henry slipped into a coma after 7 days and did not lose his eyes), however, in both Henry and Edward’s case, there is ALWAYS the possibility of the lab creating fake bodies, which is what I think happened, especially since we see the same State Troopers involved with Will’s fake body arresting Victor.

Edward’s sister and mother also likely survived, which is where we get into more speculation, because I have the initial post here about Connie Frazier being Alice Creel and then a post here about Connie Frazier being Edward’s Mother/Mother Alice/Alice Creel from another timeline and about Karen Wheeler being Edward’s sisters/Sister Virginia/Virginia Creel from another timeline.

I’m still figuring out exactly how Edward and Henry are related, if they’re a.) just eachother from naturally-occurring alternate timelines, if they’re b.) twin brothers from the same timeline but separated into different timelines scientifically or supernaturally or c.) Edward being Henry’s clone as a result of Brenner trying to recreate Henry in a lab or split off from Henry, or vice versa, and then Edward getting to live at the Creel house/experience the Creel murders via timeline weirdness even though he was “born” in the lab.

There’s also a solid chance that there’s multiple Henries (possibly even three or four, for example) and one Edward, or multiple Edwards and multiple Henries etc etc, because there seems to be multiple timelines happening, and also there’s multiple different Henries/Edwards during NINA, all with different blood splatters on their jumpsuits, and all with completely different, changing child corpses during their massacre sequences.

There is a “Richard Brenner”, listed in the S1 final episode article about Will’s vanishing, and Edward and his timeline is likely connected to Richard Brenner rather than Martin Brenner, or Henry is connected to Richard and Edward to Martin, I’m still figuring that out.

Some of the S1 scenes, specifically the ones involving Connie Frazier, seem to be occurring in the Edward Timeline (or one of the Edward timelines/the Indianapolis Gazette timeline), because if Connie Frazier is Mother Alice Creel, then she exists in the Edward timeline, so when we see her, we’re seeing Edward’s timeline. Unless, of course, she got mixed up into another timeline, which is always an option.

I’m suspicious that Edward was watching the Creel family from the void or from another timeline (see: Will’s “True Sight”/however he was able to see the alphabet on the Byers’ wall from the UD in s1 and was “trapped in the walls”/in the Byers’ house) and that Edward is what Victor was “sensing,” in the attic, much like Billy sensing/seeing El in the void in s3 and Mike seemingly sensing El in the void in s2. Will being “trapped in the walls,” of the Byers’ house is likely going to come back with Edward and Henry in S5 and Edward being “in the walls,”/watching the Creels from the void or from another timeline.

One of the “Henries” monologuing to El during the massacre is very very likely Edward

Regarding what I said about Mother Alice being Connie Frazier and Daughter Virginia being Karen Wheeler in the Edward timeline, that would make Victor Creel the grandfather of Mike, Holly, and Nancy, and would make Connie Frazier their grandmother.

And if El is Edward’s daughter from the lab and Brenner trying to recreate him, then that would mean that Mike and El are blood cousins in the Edward timeline.

List of My Posts About Edward

Here’s a current list of my posts about Edward, and I’m finish up a new pinned post/directory that’ll have a continuously updating list of links to my posts about him! (here is the link to the edward pinned post section)

Who The Fuck Is Edward Creel? Original Discovery of Edward Creel Post (x)

Edward Creel is Vecna and Henry Creel is Innocent: The First Shadow, Edward Creel, Henry Jekyll and Edward Hyde, and Carl Jung’s Theory of the Shadow (x)

Initial Post About The Creel Murders Happening On Will’s Birthday In The Edward Timeline (x)

NOTE: I use “Henry” in this post because this was before I connected it to Edward being a separate person, so just swap “Henry” for Vecna, but the Indianapolis Gazette IS the Edward timeline.

Confirming That The Creel Murders Happened On Will’s Birthday In The Edward Timeline (x)

NOTE: Same as the other post, use “Henry” in this post because this was before I connected it to Edward being a separate person, so just swap “Henry” for Vecna, but the Indianapolis Gazette IS the Edward timeline.

The Creels’ Disappearing Door and Magic, Colour-Changing Wallpaper (x)

Birthdaygate and When Did The Henry-Edward Split Happen And Was Edward Watching The Creel Family From The Void Or Via True Sight From Another Timeline? (x)

Edward Creel and the Lost Brother (x)

Edward Creel is Totally Vecna- Eddie’s DND Scene (x)

Edward Munson and Henry Creel and Being Blamed For Murder (x)

Revisiting The “If We Just Go Based On Henry’s Monologue, We Would Have No Clue Alice Even Existed Until The End And He Never Mentions Her By Name” Post With The Context Of Edward (x)

The First Shadow: Shadow(s) of The Past and LOTR (x)

The Shadows of The Past Have a Very Long Reach (x)

The First Shadow: Demons In Your Past (x)

Edward Being Bolded On The S4 Movie Board (x)

You’re Not A Child vs I’m Not A Dog And Henry Or Edward Being “Not A Child” (x)

Edward and Henry and 001 vs 000 (x)

Henry’s Colour-Changing Socks (x)

I Don’t Know What That Thing Is But It’s Not My Son- Victor, Henry, Edward, and Vecna (x)

Why Are We Seeing Through The Eyes of Someone The Same Height As Henry So Often? And Why Did Henry Look Up At The Camera? (x)

How Does Timeline Theory Stuff Tie Into Other Events In ST and How Does It Tie Into The Themes of ST and How Are The Duffers Going To Pull It Off Without Blindsiding the GA? (x)

Something Was Wrong With Me Vs What Is Wrong With My Boy (x)

Lost In The Darkness vs Hiding In The Darkness vs Hiding In The Shadows vs Good At Hiding (x)

Is Sam Owens Edward’s Father/Victor Creel From Another Timeline? (x)

“Well, my hair was buzzed and i didnt have these sweet old tatties yet”- Another Eddie Munson vs Edward Creel Parallel (x)

Just Move Your Date This One Time: Edward and Moving Dates (x)

All Your Theories About It Are Wrong, Because I’ve Seen One and Fought One: Edward Creel is Vecna/001 (ft Which One Is It?) (x)

The Lab IDs That Kali Dumped Out Vs Edward and Henry (x)

Edward Creel and the Criticism of Eddie Munson Being a Pointless Character (x)

Henward’s Plinko Reflection (x)

Henward Standing Like Alice Vs Standing Like Young Henward (x)

That’s The One: Will and 001 and Edward Creel (x)

I’m Eleven, You Long Haired Freak (x)

Edward, Eddie, and Straitjackets (x)

Joseph Quinn and Jamie Bower Doing Press Together, ST5, and Edward Creel/Vecna Using Eddie Munson as a Flesh Puppet So That Jamie Is Freed Up To Play Henry Creel (x)

Reblog of Stav’s Post Regarding Edward Creel, Eddie Munson, Reefer Rick, Richard Brenner, and Will’s Vanishing vs Eddie Hiding Parallels and Eddie Being Mistaken For Rick (x)

Eddie The Banished vs Edward Creel and Eddie’s Death Scene vs Edward Creel/001 Getting Sent To Superhell (x)

[hrefna-the-raven]

Heart of Steel

Fallout masterlist - main masterlist

Chapter 1 - 2 - 3

Song for this chapter:

Summary: You hadn't seen Maxson since your arrival on the Prydwen as Danse immediately whisked you away for a little celebration with some fellow soldiers after your successful mission. Those hours seemed to stretch on half an eternity, your thoughts lingering on how the Elder might feel...

Warnings: alcohol, no direct smut but orgasm (18+)

Notes: thinking about how Maxson grew up and how the Brotherhodd is like (in the show and the games, especially the scene with Max and Lucy talking about sex), there is nothing that could convince me that this dude isn't still a virgin with no proper clue on how to tackle anything sex related outside of the usual masturbation xD so yeah despite his charms and good looks, my dude Maxson is a cute awkward virgin in this series ;) aaaand sorry for the long chapter again^^

Chapter 4 - Something's gotta give

Maxson switched on his radio and slumped down on the larger red sofa in his private quarters. His hands found the glass he had previously filled with some vodka. It was far from his preferred choice but after today he believed it to be exactly what he needed. His mind kept taunting him with the image of you smiling down on him as he regained consciousness. It almost made him question if he'd died and woken up in the afterlife. It felt too real and if he closed his eyes he was still able to feel the warmth of your thighs radiating throw the fabric of your uniform, the tenderness of your touch and those beautiful lips, so close....He groaned, shaking his head as he gulped down half of his drink, not wanting to wait until his mind finally granted him the serene calm of no lingering thoughts and perhaps even allowing him to drift off to sleep this night.

Your finger dug into the Sugar Bombs you held as you paced back and forth outside Maxson's quarters. You hadn't seen him since your arrival on the Prydwen as Danse immediately whisked you away for a little celebration with some fellow soldiers after your successful mission. Those hours seemed to stretch on half an eternity, your thoughts lingering on how the Elder might feel. The glimpse you got at his true self had etched itself into your memory along with his peaceful face resting on your lap. After you finally managed to escape Danse's well-meant little get-together, you locked yourself in your quarters until a sudden thought struck you as soon as your gaze fell on a box of Sugar Bombs. These little treats were probably as unhealthy as bathing in one of the irradiated rivers but they held fond memories of your childhood, your mum sometimes giving you a box of them whenever you were sad. It was a silly thought, you knew that, but it was enough to make you grab the box and march towards the Elder's private quarters. You took a deep but shaky breath as your steps halted and your trembling hand knocked at his door. Seconds felt like an eternity as you waited for a response, and just as you were on the verge of giving up and turning around, the door swung open, revealing a surprised Maxson. You swallowed as your gazed danced over his figure. It was late in the evening, and you weren't quite sure what you had expected, but it certainly wasn't him standing there, dressed in nothing but a snug light brown t-shirt and a pair of loosely fitted dark grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His piercing blue eyes locked with yours as you finally dared to look up and there was a flicker of something you couldn't quite place that passed between you.

"Yes?", his voice seemed gruff and exhausted.

"I-I just wanted to check on you, after the fall you had", you stumbled over your words.

Maxson stepped aside, inviting you in. The room was dimly lit, with a faint smell of alcohol hanging in the air. He gestured towards a worn-out red couch and you cautiously took a seat, trying to plan ahead on how to approach this situation as you hadn't thought of making it this far. As he poured himself a drink, you couldn't help but notice the way his hand trembled ever so slightly, wondering if the fall had hurt him more than you assumed. Unbeknownst to you, his shaky hand was simply a sign of the nervousness your presence brought along. He cursed himself mentally, as if his endless thoughts about you had evoked you into his quarters at this late hour. He took a sip from his glass and closed his eyes, reclining on the couch, desperately trying to ignore the closeness he'd allowed himself by taking a seat right next to you.

"I thought, after today's exhausting events, you might wanted a little pick-me-up", you tentatively offered, holding up the box of cereals.

He opened his eyes and glancing between the box and the delightful grin on your face.

"Sugar Bombs?", he chuckled surprised, "aren't we a touch too old for that?"

"I guess you've already resorted to the grown-up version of comfort, but consider this", you eagerly perched on your leg and turned to face him, "what if we're never too old to have some disgusting sweets? I mean, just look at this radiated wasteland. Don't we deserve a little treat from time to time? Elder", you quickly added his title, reminding yourself who's private space you invaded tonight.

"Arthur", he replied flatly as he emptied his glass.

"What?", a puzzled expression spreading across your face.

"It's late, I'm not even in my uniform and you're sitting in my private quarters wearing pyjamas and hell, I'm too tired to bother with formalities right now."

"I'll take that as a yes to my proposal", you grinned, wiggling your eyebrows, "Arthur."

You grabbed a few sugar bombs and held them up to him. He rolled his eyes, but it was obvious that his annoyance was feigned as he took the treats and tossed them into his mouth. His eyes widened, a look of surprise flashing across his face at his own satisfied moan as the sweet taste flooded his mouth. An unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest and he was certain it had nothing to do with the vodka, this felt different, an unfiltered happiness settling within, only amplified by the beaming look you gave him. You chuckled at the sight of him finally letting go, abandoning, even if just for tonight, his usual steadfast determination to avoid anything fun.

"You've been full of surprises today", you crunched on some sugar bombs and just as you were about to continue, he interrupted.

"And you have been since you stepped foot on my ship", he poured two glasses of vodka and set one in front of you, "tell me, timeless lady, have you always been this rebellious? Invading the private space of your superiors...admitting to ignore their instructions."

"Careful, your Elder is showing again", you playfully chided him as you took a sip, your noise wrinkling at the burning sensation of the alcohol, “but to answer your question...why do you think the latrines had been cleaned this fast and efficient?”

You gave him a sly wink which earned you a hearty laugh, his head falling back as he lead out a contented sigh.

“Maybe it's the alcohol talking but I have to admit you're intriguing”, he slurred, barely noticeable.

“Same, although for me, it's simply honest curiosity.”

The two of you kept talking, from serious topics over the a playful banter and back. Arthur couldn't remember the last time he felt so carefree, liberated from the weight of the Brotherhood and the expectations tied to his name. He was truly grateful that a person like you ended up in his life. Whether he'd ever confess it to you or himself how he truly started to feel about you, right here and now, he was grateful that fate had brought you to the Prydwen. A sudden twinge of guilt pierced his chest, as amidst his own happiness, he couldn't ignore that the reasons that had lead to you being here, were a tragedy. You'd been frozen in a vault for over two hundred years, robbed of your husband and son and forced to waken up in a destroyed world teemed with peril. Sensing a shift in his behaviour, you raised your gaze towards the antiquated radio, humming along to the melody of the song.

When an irrepressible smile such as yours

Warms an old implacable heart such as mine

Don't say no because I insist

Somewhere, somehow

Someone's gotta be kissed

“Do you like music? Is dancing still a thing?”, you asked, offering him a smile.

“Maybe?”, he replied, “I must admit the last time I danced was at least ten years ago and it probably looked ridiculous.”, he chuckled, a slight grin forming on his face while his fingers unconsciously tapped along to the rhythm of the music.

You rose from your seat and changed the radio station, a more lively and rhythmic tune echoing from the small device filled the air. Without thinking, your fingers naturally wrapped around his wrist, gently tugging him up from his seat. Both of you stumbled a bit and ended up in each other's arms, the sudden closeness provoking a deep blush to spread on your cheeks. In a faint attempt to distract yourself from the several beats your heart just skipped, your body started swaying along with the tune as you held his hands, not daring to look at him.

“I'll take it as my duty teach you”, you chuckled, the tone of your voice betraying your nervousness, “we can't have the great Elder Maxson, leader of THE Brotherhood of Steel, saving the world without knowing how to dance.”

As the minutes turned into hours, the room was filled with laughter and the unsteady footsteps of two souls who, if only for a fleeting evening, managed to forget the burdens of their lives and embraced this timeless carefree moment. In that small, shared space, a connection blossomed between the two of you. It wasn't just about dancing; it was about breaking down barriers and allowing vulnerability to seep through the cracks. Arthur hummed content, his head resting on yours, eyes closed as he surrendered to the magic of the moment, only existing with the recorded voice singing his desire, evidently for you to hear, yet remaining hidden.

So, en garde, who knows what the fates might have in store

From their vast mysterious sky

I'll try hard ignorin' those lips that I adore

But how long can anyone try?

You stirred awake, eyes opening only reluctantly while the low but cthe dull but persistent pounding inside your head stole away any remaining traces of sleep you still craved. Memories of the previous evening's ending were hazy and as your vision slowly cleared, you realised that you hadn't made it back to your own bed. YLying still for a moment, you could now hear the peaceful sound of Maxson's soft snoring coming from behind you while your body registered the warmth of his pressed against yours and his arm wrapped around your waist. Carefully, you tried to turn around without waking him. Arthur's mouth twitched, the eyes moving beneath closed lids as he remained trapped in a dream. JJust like back in Fort Strong, you admired the beauty of his peaceful expression, tracing a finger over the scar on his face. Your gaze then shifted to his lips, wondering what it would feel like to kiss him. Arthur's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer while opaque murmurs spilled from his lips as his dream continued to hold him captive. You wiggled your body gently, attempting to create more space for yourself while turning around, when suddenly you swallowed, painfully aware of how his hardened length was pressed against you now, rubbing against your folds with every tiny movement. Even in his slumber, his body seemed to instinctively respond to the situation, as his hips bucked against you and a chorus of moans rumbled from his chest. His movements quickened, his hand moving down from your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass to press you even further against him. However, the moment your own moans escaped your lips uncontrollably, his eyes snapped open, fixating on your flushed face. He continued thrusting a few more times, emitting a long, sinful groan before you could feel the fabric between you becoming damp. The lust clouding his eyes dissipated, replaced by an expression of fear as his mind gradually awakened, realising what just happened. Every muscle in his body tensed up and Arthur didn't dare to move anymore, his mind in a frantic state of panic trying to figure out how to navigate through this unexpected situation. The Brotherhood had taught him how to defeat the most vicious enemies but he felt utterly unprepared for this particular battle.

"Good morning, Arthur."

You were the first to break the awkward silence that hung between you, trying to ease the fear you detected in his eyes. You were trapped in this moment just as much as he was and you were determined to show him that you had no issue with what just happened. As he remained silent, your gaze shifted to his lips and you finally gave up resisting the urge to kiss him. You leaned in, your mouth pressed on his, melting into a passionate kiss. At first he seemed to enjoy it, kissing back eagerly but then he abruptly pushed you away with such force that it nearly threw you off the bed.

"I...I...you need to go", he stuttered, scrambling to climb over you and escape from the bed.

"Arthur", you whispered, following him.

You attempted to grasp his hand and redirect his attention towards you, but he swiftly moved towards the locker, opening the metallic door to take out a fresh uniform. His trembling hands stripped the t-shirt over his head and pulled down the stained sweatpants, revealing his softening cock. You gulped, the sight of him in his naked glory stirred a wild fire deep within you. No this was not the moment, you scolded yourself mentally and your hands moved to his shoulders, finally managing to turn him around. He might have been the Elder of the Brotherhood but the man before you now resembled more a frightened young boy, someone who had committed a wrongdoing and feared getting scolded for it. And then a sudden realisation struck you. While you had experienced a normal childhood and life before the bombs dropped, he had grown up in the midst of chaos, sheltered within an organisation that cared only about freeing the world of its abominations. The irony was not lost on you - this man possessed extensive knowledge of battles and military strategies but had most likely no idea of intimate human relations and...

"Arthur, are you...", you didn't dare the voice the remainder of your question, afraid it might the fragile relationship that had formed between the two of you.

Maxson donned his uniform, exhaling shaky breaths as his thoughts raced at a hundred miles per second. The memory of a book came to him, the one fourteen year old him stole from one of the Knights in the citadel. He used to sneak away under the cover of the night, reading its pages in secret about the tale of a woman's journey to uncover the delights of carnal pleasure. The power those words held, the very same emotions that consumed him whenever he found himself in your presence. In his dreams he confidently explored the curves of your body, fingers caressing down your bare back as he rubbed himself against you, the irresistible tingling growing so overwhelming until it erupted, drowning him in a violent sea of bliss. But this morning, his dream bled into reality, and suddenly, he was overwhelmed with shame.

"I'm sorry", he finally uttered, his voice fractured and filled with shameful sadness, "my first duty is the Brotherhood and saving the people. I shouldn't have, I mean I..."

It broke your heart seeing him in this state for, despite his stubborn beliefs regarding non-human life, there was nothing wrong with him and you'd make it your utmost priority to show exactly this to him. It was high time for the Elder to step aside momentarily, allowing Arthur to bask in the warmth and affection that life had to offer. Gently cupping his face, you tilted his head, guiding his sorrowful ice-blue eyes to meet yours. There were countless things you wished to say to him but all the words transcended into one tender fleeting kiss.

"Your Elder is showing again", you playfully chided him, earning a faint sheepish smile from him, "you have nothing to be sorry for, except for maybe stopping and denying me my pleasure."

The touch of your love almost physically pained his heart, and though his mind still grappled with resistance, the very same heart grew stronger, guiding him on the way for a new light and he wouldn't be him if he wouldn't master the challenge to balance his duty and his love.

"Maybe we could try-"

A sudden pounding on the door interrupted him, causing both of you to hold your breath, desperately hoping that whoever was on the other side would simply turn away. Another knock followed, shattering the brief moment of silence.

"Elder?", Proctor Ingram's voice called out from behind the door, "it's time for our briefing. You promised me we would finally address the issue with the coolant supply."

You witnessed the sheer terror spread across Maxson's face upon hearing Ingram's voice. He stumbled towards the door, nearly tripping over while trying to get his boots on. He grabbed his coat hanging down from the cabinet and hastily threw it over his shoulders . His hand reached for the door handle but the paused, allowing himself a small smile while he quickly turned around, strode towards you and planted a loving kiss on your lips.

"Wait good ten minutes before heading out", he murmured against your lips, "I'll expect you to be ready for shooting training at noon. That's an order, Knight", his words were firm, but the warmth in his eyes revealed his true emotions in that moment.

"Yes, Elder", you replied, slamming your fist on your chest in salute.

You found yourself grinning as you watched him exit the room, amused by the strict tone he adopted as soon as he lead Ingram away from his quarters.

Chapter 5 - Don't let me be misunderstood

Feel free to reblog if you enjoyed the story :)