#this borders on a fanfic but i just had a lot of thoughts

[myundeadgayson]

“navigating” by twenty one pilots music video, but it’s C!Tommy and C!Wilbur,,,

Tommy being guided through the woods by a ghost of Wilbur. (and yes, i know we have Ghostbur. i love Ghostbur, but hear me out.)

Tommy being haunted by the vivid image of his older brother. and as they walk, this memory of Wilbur appears so real, that Tommy forgets that it isn’t real at all until they’ve reached their destination.

it’s during Tommy’s exile. Tommy’s at his breaking point. he’s starving, he’s cold— he’s alone. no one has visited in ages and he’s so, so tired of fighting. there’s no one to stop him if he wants to lay down in the dirt, close his eyes, and never get back up. but right as he’s about to do it, he opens his eyes to see Wilbur.

Wilbur is dead. Tommy knows this.

he knows bc he’s seen the gravesite. he’s seen the mockery of a memorial that was built in the name of a mad man. hell, he was there to witness the wreckage of when it happened. he can still hear the ringing in his ears of the explosions, the taste of ashes on his tongue, the scent of smoke that never leaves.

but the vision is so vivid.

(“if you really wanna know what i’m thinking…

kind of feels like everybody leaves.

feeling the reality that everybody leaves

[…] and i’m trying to hold onto you because everybody leaves…”)

it’s not real. Tommy knows it can’t be, but as Wilbur teases and prods him into getting up, he can’t help taking Wilbur’s hand.

it feels so solid in his grasp.

so, he does what he’s always done — he follows Wilbur.

(“pardon my delay… i’m navigating, navigating my head.

disassociate— i’m navigating, navigating my head.”)

i love imagining the video with them — Wilbur leading Tommy through the trees. Wilbur guides him over tree roots and offers him a hand when he struggles to climb over inclines. Tommy tries to be difficult, waving Wilbur off to pretend to be a big man, but after what feels like hours, his legs are ready to give out. he whines and tries to plead Wilbur to let him rest, but Wilbur isn’t slowing down. he keeps tugging Tommy along.

the trees begin to thin. the air is growing colder. there’s a thin sheen of ice over the puddles that they pass.

Tommy has no idea where they’re going, but Wilbur keeps telling him to be patient.

as they pass the treeline, all Tommy can see is snow. it stretches out to the horizon, and Tommy can feel the dread in his bones.

right as he wonders if Wilbur’s ghost has led him to his death, he spots a cabin.

it’s shelter.

there’s smoke curling upwards from the chimney and Tommy’s freezing bones long for the warmth that’s inside that home. part of him is terrified of who might be inside — will they send him back to Dream?

but Wilbur drags him along, waving off his worries. it’ll be fine, he says, and stuffs his hands into the pockets of that stupid trenchcoat of his.

they’ve walked too far to turn back, so Tommy follows as he always does.

but right as they’re approaching the door, it opens.

Wilbur is standing right beside Tommy. while Tommy is shivering, sniffling from the bitter cold, Wilbur seems unbothered. his hands are in his pockets, his posture relaxed as ever, as if they haven’t been traveling for hours.

and Tommy tries to feign the same confidence. but as his eyes adjust, he realizes what Wilbur’s done. the flurries of snow have subsided enough that he can finally see the figure in the doorway, right as they’re noticing him.

it’s Technoblade.

and right as they lock eyes, Tommy realizes something important.

Wilbur’s disappeared.

(“give me some advice! i am wasting all this time. my, oh my…”)

[the20thangel]

Playing with Fire

Summary: This is a Tumblr request: a Targaryen reader who resembles a lot of Daemon. Like she's not afraid to fight. And there are stories of her, and when Benjicot meets her, he's in love. Like down bad. And when they fight together, it is whispered that they are alike and fit so well. And it gets back to Rhaenyra, who betrothes them. Even if they have already done that nasty thing together. (🫣) I hope that makes sense, and using a name is okay.

Tags: NSFW, MDNI, 18+

Word count: 3519

(this is an x reader fanfic but just with a name)

Princess Alyssa yawned; her flight to the Riverlands from Dragonstone was long. All she wanted was to get to her destination and take a long nap. She regretted not taking her mother’s advice to land at Harrenhal for a moment and rest, especially since her father, Prince Daemon, was there. She just did not want to see her father right now. Alyssa was her father’s daughter, just like her father was grandmother Alyssa's son. They all burn hot, especially their temperament, and sometimes they would slightly singe each other in arguments. She loved her father with all her heart, but sometimes, being alone with him without her mother to calm them both would do more damage than good.  That is why Alyssa chose to fly past Harrenhal and continue to Raventree Hall. 

Raventree Hall recently got a new Lord to rule the land. Lord Benjicot Blackwood proudly took his place as lord after the tragic death of his father, Lord Samwell. Her mother, Queen Rhaenyra, tasked her with welcoming the lord in his position and asking him to swear allegiance again to her. Alyssa was chosen as the representative of her mother’s council. Princess Alyssa was proud to be her mother’s representative; people often called her mother’s sword. She would gladly give up her life fighting for her family and their rightful places in the realm. 

As she flew closer to her destination, she remembered the conversation she overheard her mother’s council had before she left. They wanted to find a betrothal for her, preferably one that would benefit her mother’s cause. Alyssa scoffed; all the men, heirs, and lords she had met so far were too weak. Some feared having a wife who would rather fight battles than sit all day and embroider pretty patterns on their clothes. At the same time, others were too busy flaunting their skills, like peacocks trying to one-up each other, thinking that they would impress the dragon princess. She knew it was her duty to marry one day, but none seemed good enough for her. Her thoughts were cut off as she arrived at Raventree Hall, seeing the famous weirwood tree filled with ravens and crows rather than red leaves. Commanding her dragon to land in the closest clearing, thinking the people will probably not enjoy having a dragon land on a tower and causing damage to the castle. 

Once landed, Alyssa jumped down from her dragon, Gaelithox, a beautiful black dragon with a few red scales, looking like lava flowing across his body. Many people were afraid to be close to him, so it seemed fitting that they were made to bond. As she scratched under his chin, showing her gratitude through their bond for reaching their destination safely, Alyssa heard a group of men walking towards her. Turning around, Alyssa noticed a beautiful woman in the middle of the group, Alysanne Blackwood, a woman whom Alyssa greatly respected—a fierce warrior who did not care for silly men and their silly games. 

Alyssane Blackwood was surprised to hear dragon wings fly over her family’s castle and more shocked to see Princess Alyssa. 

“Princess Alyssa, welcome to Raventree Hall. We were not expecting your presence here, my princess,” greeted Alyssane. 

“Forgive the sudden appearance, but my mother wanted to send congratulations to the new Lord of House Blackwood… and where may this lord be?” asked Alyssa cocking her head to the side. 

“He will be back soon. He needed to check on a few things on our outer border of the lands. Come, let me take you to your chamber and let you refresh up before meeting with my nephew,” led Alyssane as she and her party turned back into the castle. 

Alyssa stared momentarily before turning to her dragon, “Jikagon arghugon.” Asking her dragon to find food. As Gaelithox launched himself into the air, Alyssa finally moved to follow the Blackwood party. 

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

Alyssa sighed in tranquility; she needed a steaming bath to ease her sore muscles from being on the dragon's back for too long. As she prepared to lower herself, a knock broke her out of her tranquil state. Huffing in annoyance, she quickly stood with only a bathrobe covering her body. As she creaked open the door, she was greeted by a servant girl. The girl told her that her lord had finally returned and invited the princess to a small feast. Alyssa thanked the girl and told her she would be there soon. 

She did not need servants' assistance because she did not bring any gowns. Alyssa was her mother’s representative of the crown, so she needed to be ready for anything coming her way. A gown would only hinder her ability to defend herself. She dresses herself in a black and red riding coat and trousers. The shoulders of her coat were made to look like dragon scales. Her riding coat looked alot like the one her mother used to wear when she was younger. After she tied her hair into braids, she fastened her sword to her belt and walked out of her guest chambers. There, a guard bowed and led the way to the feast hall. 

At the top of the hall stood a grand table with what Alyssa could assume was Benjicot Blackwood, the new lord of House Blackwood. Young men wearing House Tully colors were to his left, and to his right was Alyssane Blackwood. Alyssane noticed the princess first, turning to whisper to her nephew as he quickly scanned for the princess, his eyes widening when they found her. 

As Alyssa looked at the young lord, she couldn’t help but be impressed with his appearance. He was pretty handsome, with a certain charm of a warrior, from the scar on his lips and his storming hazel eyes. He had a smirk on his lips as he gazed upon the princess. Alyssa noted how his house colors were so close to her own. She hadn’t worn red in a while, but still, both houses’ colors were indeed complementary of each other. 

Benjicot was surprised by Alyssa Targaryen’s appearance, as he had heard the rumors that the Princess was just like her grandmother. Who preferred to wear riding trousers rather than dress in pretty gowns and loved to sword fight. He just was not expecting to have such a gorgeous woman stand in front of him. The princess dressed in not the highest quality gowns found in court to diminish her beauty, but Benjicot only seemed to think that it highlighted her beauty more. She looked ever the part of Valyrian women from Old Valyria, just like his maester used to teach him.  Alyssane, noticing her nephew ogling the princess, cleared her throat. 

“Princess, it is my honor to introduce you to my nephew, Lord Benjicot Blackwood, lord of Raventree Hall of House Blackwood.” she introduced as she nudged her nephew to stand and bow. 

“My Princess, House Blackwood welcomes you, and it is an Honor to have you here.” bowed Benjicot, giving her a smirking grin. 

Alyssa nodded with a grin, “You honor me, Lord Benjicot.” 

“Please call me Ben or Benji. My name is too much of a mouthful to say,” stated Benji, flushing when the princess smirked at him. 

“My, such liberties, I guess I should provide the lord the very same for being such a gentleman. Very well, you may call me Alyssa.” Graced Alyssa, laughing at Ben’s ever-growing redder face with a wild grin showing up on his face. 

“Please let us continue the feast in honor of your new lord,” Alyssa exclaimed, and the crowd cheered. 

Benji sat down with a grin, turning to the Tully brothers, who smirked and made smooching faces at him. Alyssa walked to sit next to Alyssane, but the lady stood there and allowed the princess to take her seat next to Benji. As they continued with the feast, Alyssa spoke with those around, finding their presence welcoming; after some light teasing, the Tully brothers followed in, being more familiar with the princess and not so courtly. This is where Alyssa thrived, creating genuine connections with people, not court pleasantries and kissing ass to try and get favors. 

Once they were well into their wine, Oscar turned to the princess, “So, Alyssa, are the rumors true that you can beat ten men at once in a duel?” 

Alyssa raised an eyebrow, chuckling, “I don’t know when the rumors become so dramatic; it wasn’t ten men.” 

Which intrigued the rest of the group, “But you did beat a group of men in a duel?” asked Kermit. 

Alyssa hmmed, turning to stare at the men, noticing Benji’s curious face with a hint of something that she couldn’t pinpoint yet. 

“Would you all like to find out? Tomorrow, you, Oscar, and Ben can all fight me at a duel.” Alyssa asked as Oscar and Kermit's faces paled. While Ben nodded, he wanted to see more of her. 

“Ah, on second thought, how about just Ben? Fighting him is like fighting twenty men,” countered Kermit nervously. 

Alyssa laughed at the sudden excuse, agreeing to the term she and Benji would fight a duel, one that everyone started betting on who would win. Alysanne smiled and noted how comfortable the princess and her nephew were with each other. 

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

The next day, a huge group formed on the training grounds, all wanting to see the princess and their lord duel. As the princess walked to the ground, she extended her arm to Benji, who took it and shook her hand. 

“First to yield wins the match!” exclaimed Oscar, and the rest of the group buzzed excitedly. 

“Best of luck to you, Ben. Don’t hold out on me.” wished Alyssa. 

“And to you, my princess.” agreed Benji as he took his stance. 

With that, Alyssa raised her sword and swung it while Benjicot dodged it quickly and moved to the side to swing his own. Alyssa smiled, thinking how much fun this match will be as she pivoted away from the lord. She tried to kick his legs, but Benji saw through her moves and jumped. In return, he tried to grab her leg, but the princess did a back handspring. She had the advantage she did not fight like men; she used her grace to make moves such as cartwheels and handsprings to evade her opponents.  Benji grinned at the princess’s ingenuity. He kept being surprised more and more by her. As the two continued the dance of striking and dodging, Alyssa decided to act on a move she had only tried on her brothers before. She ran to Benji, and as she was about to reach him, she slid, knocking him down on the floor on top of her. Then, as he struggled to catch his breath, she flipped him, enclosing her legs on his waist as she raised both her and his sword to his neck.  

Everyone gasped, seeing the lord finally react to his position, grinning at the princess who could beat him; she, in turn, was smiling at him. 

“I believe I won, Ben,” she taunted as the crowd cheered the princess. She had beaten Bloody Ben in a duel. 

Alysanne laughed, seeing her nephew's love-stricken eyes. Of course, her nephew would fall for someone who could beat him in a duel. She was planning to write to the queen about how the princess was doing, but she also decided to write about how close and comfortable the princess and nephew were becoming with each other. 

Alyssa was breathing heavily, still basking in her glory, when she felt something poking underneath her. She gasped once she recognized what it was. Ben was still huffing underneath her, and he could not help but groan in embarrassment, having the princess feel his growing bulge poke her. Alyssa quickly stood up, suddenly feeling warm in her stomach. She tried to act like feeling him did not affect her, so she extended her arm to help him. Ben took her hand before kneeling and kissing it. 

“I, Benjicot Blackwood, Lord of Raventree Hall, swore my fealty to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, the rightful queen to the iron throne, and her daughter, Princess Alyssa.” pledge the young lord as the rest of the crowd quickly bowed. 

Feeling uncharacteristically overly warm, Alyssa nodded, “As… as representative of my mother, the queen, I, Princess Alyssa Targaryen, thank you, my lord. House Blackwood will be a great ally for House Targaryen.” As she turned around, her cheeks heated up, still riling from feeling him underneath her. 

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

Alyssa was frustrated; she was still warm after bathing and changing clothes to a simple silk dress. She never felt like this before, so hot and bothered. Instead of feeling disgusted by the apparent lust from Benji, she felt excited. This infuriated her; what was she supposed to do? She didn’t know how to act, but her body was pleading, pleading for her to find answers with Benjicot. After letting out a frustrated growl, she decided to see the young lord. Stepping out in a thicker coat, she asked the guard to take her to Benjioct’s chambers, urging her to speak to him urgently. 

Once she reached the lord's chambers, she knocked, waiting for him to answer, dismissing the guard and thanking him. Benji opened his door to see the princess standing there; he invited her in when he noticed she was only wearing a thin silk dress underneath her coat, feeling his trousers tighten again. 

As he opened to ask the princess about her troubles,  Alyssa growled in frustration. 

“You, Ben, are my troubles; you have cast a spell on me,” Alyssa explained as she approached him. “You are not like any of the men I have met before; you do not see me as a royal womb; you see me as a person. You make my body call out for you and-” 

Benjicot cut her off by kissing her passionately, bringing her body to his, pushing away the heavy coat, and snaking his arms around her waist. 

“You, my princess, accused me of casting a spell on you when, in reality, you did on me, I just responded. You don’t know how gorgeous you are, how your body encaptures mine. How I yearn for you.” whispered Benji as he kissed her with each word, going down and down to her neck. 

Alyssa gasped, “Show me, show me how much you yearn.” as she kissed Benjicot. 

The young lord growled into the kiss as he raised her and dropped her onto his bed, setting himself on her. As they continued to kiss, Alyssa snaked her hand down his body until she reached his stiff burgled, messaging it, growing in delight hearing Benji’s groan into her mouth. 

“You are playing close with fire, my princess..” whispered Benji, staring into her purple eyes. 

Alyssa smirked, “I am not afraid of fire, my lord.” 

Benji leaned down to capture her lips, raising a leg around his waist as he slowly started to grind himself on her, causing the princess to moan in his mouth, grabbing his hand and placing it on her breast. Benjicot moved down her neck and began kissing and biting her neck, leaving noticeable love bites. 

“Ben… so good... Please,” whispered Alyssa as she moved her hips, grinding her soaking clothed cunt to his stiff bludge. 

Benji grunted his hands on her hips, stopping their movements and making the princess whine. 

“Shhh… I don’t want to finish so fast; I’m not done with you yet, princess,” whispered Benji as he raised the princess’s dress from about her head. 

“You have too many clothes on, Ben,” whispered Alyssa as she sat up and helped Benji remove his shirt as the young man threw off his trousers. 

“You’re gorgeous, Alyssa,” breathed Benji, tracing his fingers down her body and reaching for her soaking entrance. 

“Please don’t tease me; I ache too much to be teased.” pleaded Alyssa, gasping in delight and feeling a finger slip in her entrance.  

“That’s my good girl, taking my finger so well,” growled Benji as he continued to pump his finger in and out of her entrance, slowly adding a second and a third finger. 

Alyssa writhed in delight, moving her hand to her sensitive bud, messaging it to match the rhythm Ben was moving his fingers in, feeling a growing sensation in her stomach. 

“That’s it, sweet girl, find your release, show me how much you love my fingers inside of you, wishing it was my cock.” grunted Benicot with hooded eyes, watching her becoming undone. 

“Ben, please, I want…no, I need your cock. I want to finish on your cock.” stated Alyssa with small tears in her eyes as she stared into those hazel eyes. 

Growling in delight, Benjicot out his fingers and aligned his cock to the princess’s soaking entrance. Looking for her approval, Alyssa nodded and moaned loudly, feeling Benji enter her; it was a pleasurable pain. Before Ben could start moving, Alyssa stopped him. Benjicot looked at her with questioning eyes. Alyssa deviously grinned as she flipped them, with Benjicot at the bottom and Alyssa on top. 

“Let me show you a skill of a dragon rider,” whispered Alyssa as she started bouncing on his cock. 

Benjicot moaned, closing his eyes; he was so deep in her, her walls sucking him in deeper and deeper. 

“Ugh… open you eyes… I want to see your beautiful eyes.” commanded Alyssa, raising his head more. 

Benjicot opened his eyes, thinking he had gone to paradise, for an angel was riding him, moving those beautiful pale hips up and down, side to side. His cock went in and out of her entrance. The sounds of soaking and sweating skin slapping each other. Not wanting just to sit by, he grabbed her hips and helped Alyssa move up and down with a harder and more precise force. He was causing the princess to moan more. 

“You are mine; nobody will ever come close to you, just like I will be yours,” promised Benjicot, feeling his release coming closer and closer.

Alyssa felt her release also close and decided to lock her legs around him; she needed him to release in her; she would take it nowhere else. 

Benjicot saw what she was doing and asked if she was sure. The princess, still bouncing on his lap, expressed how much she needed him to fill her. With that, Benji kissed his princess, filling her womb to the brim. Alyssa moaned into his mouth, letting her release milk him in deeper, feeling content in feeling him fill her up. 

As the princess and lord finished, they lay on his bed, with her on top of him. Benji petted her hair, catching his breath as he felt her breath on his neck. Alyssa looked up, caressing his cheek. 

“I hope this is not a one-time thing; I really like you, Ben,” confessed Alyssa. 

Benjicot looked down at the princess, gracing her with a dazzling smile, “I adore you. I could not just let you go. I want you as my wife.” 

Alyssa smiled, kissing him again before the two let slumber take to the land of dreams. 

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

The following week, Alyssa felt like she was in a pleasant dream, hunting with Ben and the boys, training with them, and flying her dragon freely without worrying about a war brewing. Also, there were times when  Benjicot and she had much time to themselves, using it to take her in the woods, her chambers, and even once in the library. She was content. 

She was currently on his lap in his chambers, kissing him as the lord moved his hands to her waist, moving her body to start grinding on him. When a loud knock shocked them out of the mood. Growling, the Princess removed herself from his lap, sitting on the chair, crossing her legs as she pretended to be reading. Benjicot sighed, annoyed at being interrupted, opening the door to show his aunt, whose grin only grew when she saw the princess in his room. Benjicot knew technically the princess should not be in his chambers as he invited his aunt in, asking her if something had happened.   

“A letter arrived from Dragonstone..” started Alysanne, noticing Princess Alyssa narrow her eyebrows in confusion. 

“Is everything alright? Did something happen?” asked Alyssa, worried that she had neglected her mother’s protection. 

Alysanne shook her head, “The queen is asking for your return and House Blackwood to present ourselves to Dragonstone.” 

“Did she give a reason, Aly,” asked Benjicot, seeing Alyssa worry even more. 

“I wrote to the queen how much you two seem to like each other, and the queen and I decided it would be best to unify our house. We will be going to Dragonstone to discuss a potential marriage between you both,” explained Alysaane, watching in delight as Benjicot smiled widely, turning to face the princess, who stood in shock. 

“I guess I will be fulfilling my dream of making you my wife,” said Benji as he took the princess into his arms and kissed her.

[thera-daydreams]

SCARLET & SHADOW

ᱬ The Darkling x Scarlet Witch!Reader ᱬ

[aleksander morozova x wanda maximoff!reader]

series masterlist & synopsis • thera's masterlist

chapter four.

▪︎ haunted ▪︎

You were no powerless otkazat’sya, Aleksander finds out the hard way. He’s pushed you too far, and he’s left to deal with the aftermath of the new knowledge he half-regrets he gained. On the other hand, you see something bad about this new world that wished you had never seen.

warnings: again, the big bad darkling himself is a warning, he gets kinda pushy and intimidating, aleksander hates liars but is a big one, faint spoilers about the darkling's book story, our baby wanda, her powers, mental instability, bad coping mechanisms, and a whole lot of heartbreak, wanda!reader cuts her palm to prove something, a whole lotta tension between you and the general, no beta we die like wanda

word count: 6.0k

(author's note: bro even my heart broke writing this long-ass chapter, haha. shadow daddy and magic mommy super angsty slowburn!? i just wanna finish this short series and be free from the confines of my crazy fanfic ideas, guys. let me go!)

The smell of paper.

Aleksander walked through the rows of bookshelves, his eyes skimming the spines of the books, searching for the one he wanted. He continued down the row, almost reaching the end, when he stops and his eyes settle on the sight of you, reading on a small couch tucked into a dark corner of the room.

What impeccable timing he had, he thinks as his thoughts shift from the book he was looking for to the woman who’s been plaguing his thoughts as of late. Just in time to get answers to his questions.

After being in Ryevost for a week, his presence was required in Kribirsk, overseeing the status of the troops there. But no night passed when he wasn’t thinking about you, in particular. Aleksander’s eyes zoom in on the book you were reading.

History of Ravka. How unexpected.

A strange feeling stirred within him the longer he stared at you. He’s seen you before, he just doesn’t know where. He glances around the room, checking if anyone else is around to see the two of you. When he’s certain that no one is there to witness, he slowly moves closer to you, coming to stand a few feet away from the couch.

You notice eyes studying from near the shelves. But ever since you became employed in the Little Palace, you had grown accustomed to a certain Shadow Summoner’s presence. Slowly, you turn your head to the right side of the sofas to see him.

“Moi soverenyi.” You bow your head as you stand.

“Hello, Miss Maximoff," he greets, his voice low and almost teasing. Funnily enough, he finds his gardener not in the garden, but the library this time.

"I find myself surprised. I thought you prefer being in the garden." His tone was light and nearly sarcastic. Was he in a good mood today?

“It’s a Friday, sir. My day off." You smile a little.

"So it is,” Kirigan mutters, his gaze going back to studying your features, his eyes roaming over your face once again. Now, to the important topic. "Miss Maximoff… you and the children… Henrik, Dmitri, and Katyusha…”

You perk up at their names. “Yes, sir?”

“Where are you from again?”

You nearly, very nearly answered Sokovia. Thankfully, you did not. But something in you grew agitated as the Darkling stepped closer, awaiting your response.

“We came from a small town in Tsibeya. Korsov. Barely even in the maps,” you reply smoothly, fingers grazing the rough pages of the history tome you were devouring earlier.

“Ah… Korsov. Indeed, quite a small town in Tsibeya, hm?” General Kirigan hums, his eyes flitting to your hand. “... But Tsibeya is so dangerously close to the Fjerdan border, don’t you agree?”

At his words, you start to have a bad feeling. He appeared to be implying something. “... Yes, it is, moi soverenyi,” you reply quietly.

“And you did not encounter one single drüskelle in the many days you trekked from here to the Little Palace?” The Black General finally drops what he’s been intending to ask for a month now, his endlessly dark gaze piercing through your soul.

Your heart nearly dropped into your stomach. If you thought he was onto you before, this was the confirmation.

Before you could respond, he continued, slowly circling you. “Drüskelle are very unjust in their ways of imprisoning and killing Grisha, did you know that?” He adds,a faint smirk on his face.

The smug bastard knew he caught you in his trap.

“Fortunately enough, sir, we encountered no drüskelle on our journey.” Your voice was cool and calculated as you watched him stop circling you. Kirigan raises a brow.

“Aside from drüskelle, Tsibeya is also notorious for its bandits, thieves, traffickers in its vast forest,” he points out, sounding amused. “Are you sure? When almost always, my soldiers would encounter one or more of these during their assignments there?”

Fuck.

You retained your composure as you answered, “None, General. I’m forever grateful to the Saints above that we were blessed with smooth travels that time.”

“Hmmm… the Saints, hm?” The Darkling muses, smirk ever present as he flips a page on the book you were reading. The next page revealed an illustration of the Unsea. There was a glimmer in his eye as he looked at it. “That’s quite strange, Miss Maximoff.”

“Sir…?”

“Because I seem to vividly recall young Dmitri gushing over how you took down a drüskelle in your journey. Henrik also spoke of how you… bribed two Grisha slavers to be on their way.” He turns back to you expectantly. "But you'd made them close their eyes."

A spike of cold runs down your skin. You weren’t sure if the children sold you out or not—it was unlikely since the general had Heartrenders for torture and interrogation and also, they were innocent kids! Either way, the man in front of you knew about what happened in your journey to the Little Palace.

No use hiding now.

Aleksander sees your demeanor shift into something icier. Guarded. Quite different from the quiet gardener who peacefully tended to her plants or the affectionate adopted mother who gives out sweets to her children.

You were just getting more and more interesting, weren’t you? He smirks wider.

“Are you going to keep your general waiting?"

And to think this had been the man you shared your grief to just over a month ago.

“What matters is that the children are here in your palace. Safe and sound and with their people, sir,” you counter, standing your ground fearlessly.

The Black General had absolutely no idea who he was messing with right now.

“I do not tolerate lies, Miss Maximoff,” he spoke slowly—ominously, his features hardening. You watch as the flames in the lamps nearby flicker and vanish completely as shadows engulf the space around you.

Much to his surprise, you didn’t so much as react at the sight.

“I doubt drüskelle or anybody else with ill intentions would just let 3 children and a young woman escape without any trouble,” Kirigan challenges, stepping closer until he was merely an arm’s length away from you. “So, how did a little otkazat’sya gardener with no combat experience like you do it, hm?”

“...”

He scoffs. “Are you truly going to make me drag it out of you?”

Menacingly, you tilt your head at him as you dauntlessly meet his gaze above you. 

The Black General suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, something that rarely occurred.

Who were you, really?

You open your mouth to speak when—

CREAK!

The heavy wooden library doors loudly open, two of his most trusted men running in. The shadows around you quickly vanish and the lamps flicker back on. A little irritated, he turns around.

“... What is it, Ivan?” He keeps his voice reserved, hiding his displeasure at the interruption. He had been so close. So damn close.

“General, the Durasts have completed the new sandskiff prototype at Kribirsk. It is ready to be launched as soon as possible,” Ivan reports, his gaze momentarily shifting to you before returning to Kirigan. “Will you be accompanying us there once more, sir?

You await his response, but you can’t help but let the tiniest hint of a smile appear on your lips. Saved by the bell. His eyes flicker down, brow slightly twitching. He sends you a glare which clearly meant that your conversation was not at all over.

Your seemingly innocent smile grows wider as you bow, “General.”

Who was so smug now?

Holding back a snarl, he swivels on his feet, fists clenched. “Come,” he sharply orders his Heartrender, quickly leaving the library.

You pick up the book you had previously been reading, examining the illustration of the Fold on the page. When you turned to the next page, there was a drawing of a heavily cloaked figure surrounded by shadows.

The Black Heretic.

You had only seen one other likeness of the man—at an almost abandoned wishing fountain not too far from the Little Palace. An engraving depicting the reign of King Anastas, the creation of the Fold, and the prophesied Sun Summoner to solve their problem.

As you reach out, fingers tracing the drawing of the Black Heretic curiously, the memory of your silhouette in the Book of the Damned suddenly coursed through your mind, Agatha’s voice echoed in your ears.

“You’re supposed to be a myth! A being capable of spontaneous creation!”

“This is Chaos Magic, Wanda. And that makes you… the Scarlet Witch.”

“Harbinger of Chaos!”

The sculpture of you in the now-destroyed Darkhold Castle flashed before your eyes.

“The Scarlet Witch is not born; she is forged. She has no coven, no need for incantation.”

“Your power exceeds that of the Sorcerer Supreme. It is your destiny to destroy the world.”

Quickly retracting your hand from the Black Heretic’s drawing, a deep frown marred your face. What was that just now? You return the history book to the shelf, disturbed.

What was crucial was that General Kirigan did not successfully interrogate you. Yet. Never, you pray. Hopefully, he’ll be off for a long time in Kribirsk for a very important Second Army job or whatever Ravkan military business he needed to do.

ᱬᗢᱬ

For once, it seems like the heavens did heed your wishes. Because apparently, they had found the infamous Sun Summoner during their last trip to Kribirsk. Not without casualties, though. There was reportedly a drüskelle attack on their way back home aside from the volcra that had attacked the passengers of the sandskiff.

From the gardens of the Little Palace, you briefly catch sight of General Kirigan on his black stallion, a woman riding on the saddle in front of him. As the Shadow Summoner helps his newfound Sun Summoner down the horse, ushering her into a secluded entrance in the palace, he stops in his tracks, looking behind him with narrowed eyes.

Aleksander swore he felt someone watching them. 

But there was nobody except the oprichniki guarding the way in. 

Without another thought, he follows the Sun Summoner inside. Fortunately, the new presence of the Sun Summoner—Alina Starkov—takes up the majority of his time for the coming days, especially after she was successfully presented to the Lantsov monarchs in the Grand Palace.

She will change the world, General Kirigan reportedly announced to everyone present. And the Fold can be destroyed with enough training. Somehow, it made you pity the poor girl thrown into this prophecy.

Speaking of the Grand Palace, the head servant handed you a letter of some sort. A job offer. It seemed like Queen Tatiana was quite enamored with the new, blooming flower beds in the Little Palace. The ones which you’d mainly worked hard on earlier this year, aside from the fruits, vegetables, and herbs you grew.

As you walk through the paths of the garden, reading and debating over the contents of the royal letter, someone nearly hurls past you, making you drop the letter.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going!” A girl’s voice cries out as she picks up the paper from the ground. The only thing you could see was her blue, Etheralki kefta until she hands it to you.

“... Miss Alina Starkov,” you acknowledge with a bow of my head as you gratefully accept the letter. “It should be me who’s apologizing. I was reading while walking.” You smile warmly at the younger woman.

“Please, you… really don’t need to bow… ma’am…” she trails off anxiously, averting her gaze. She seemed to also be cradling her sore arm. You’ve never met the old woman, but you heard from Henrik and Dmitri that Baghra was notoriously strict and kind of scary whenever Grisha trained under her.

For a moment, you wondered why it was not General Kirigan who was training Alina.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, Miss Starkov, I’ll stop.”

“T-Thank you.” She stared at the bed of moonflowers nearby. “It’s beautiful here. I haven’t been to this part of the palace before. All the flowers… the vegetables... the colors and the scents… it seems so unreal."

You chuckle, “It’s all very much real, thanks.”

“Oh! You're the palace gardener,” she realizes. “The flowers are gorgeous! You must have magical hands, ma'am.”

Funny. The general said the exact same thing just months ago.

“Just one of the gardeners here, Miss Starkov. I’m assigned to the very tedious sections to maintain, but I'm glad you’re pleased. Perhaps one day, you can help me give the plants more sunlight with your powers,” you lightly suggest. At your words, she grows hesitant—her voice full of doubts.

“That is, if I can,” she mumbles, making you give her a sympathetic look. A young girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders. She reminded you of yourself when you were young—long, long ago.

ᱬᗢᱬ

Aleksander is laser-focused on Alina for a long while, working to gain her trust and persuade her to join his cause—to use her powers for Ravka. All the while, he barely has time to think about the other matters, including his unfinished conversation with you. Additionally, every time he managed to get a glimpse of you, you just seemed to get away and escape.

His frustration slowly builds. He can’t help but wonder what was going through your mind—you truly were hiding something from him. And despite his busy schedule with the Sun Summoner, the General can’t shake the feeling that the conversation you both left unfinished is important. He quietly resolves to talk to you to clear things up as it was nagging the hell out of him.

It was an unwelcome distraction from his goals with Alina. Alina was supposed to be the priority now.

Unfortunately for him, for some reason, you were incredibly good at evading his presence. The situation becomes more and more of a challenge. He almost orders Ivan to retrieve you himself and throw you into his office (or the underground cells) for interrogation. Almost. But he was not that desperate. Yet.

ᱬᗢᱬ

“Is she here?” Aleksander asks two of the oprichniki, who were standing guard over Alina at the entrance of the private palace gardens. They nod.

“Good. Keep an eye on her wherever she goes,” he orders before walking deeper into the gardens. Then, he pauses, a delighted look on his ageless features.

Look what we have here… he thinks as he finds you and Alina interacting. 

Aleksander stands back for a moment, hiding within the shadows, watching the two of you talk and smiling together. He overhears part of your discussion, and a part of him is taken aback by the genuine care and reassurance you offer to the young Sun Summoner.

It seems like your kindness did not only extend to the three Grisha children you’d somehow brought into his palace.

“I don’t believe that it's power that's your problem, Miss Starkov,” he hears you welcomingly tell Alina as she walks beside you. “It must be knowledge. Knowledge can be gained, in time.”

“You really think so, Wanda?”

One dark brow of his elevates. Hmm, first name basis already with one another? How quaint.

You smiled at her. “I'm certain you will be a wonderful Sun Summoner. And although I’m no Grisha like you, you are in good hands. With Baghra and… the General, too…” you trailed off.

Aleksander’s eyes widen slightly at your words to Alina. He's a bit surprised by your confidence in his teachings, but he’s even more pleased to hear it.

"Indeed, the knowledge and guidance I can provide will help you, Miss Starkov."

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

The corners of his lips curved into a slight smile as he approached. Alina gasps in surprise, while you instantly freeze as your head almost snaps to the sound of the voice behind you. Kirigan’s gaze flicks back to Alina for a moment as she clears her throat, before looking back at you. He tilts his head slightly, studying your expression.

Alina looks back and forth between you and General Kirigan, clearing her throat as she senses some… tension between you and the man who’d appeared out of nowhere.

Returning to your senses, you bow as he walks closer to you two. “General Kirigan.” Slowly, you back away from them. “My apologies. You and Miss Starkov must have important matters to discuss. Excuse me—

"No, you stay.” 

The Black General raises a gloved hand, immediately stopping you from leaving. When he speaks, there is a firm command to his tone. You halt.

You briefly wondered what chaos would ensue if you simply just used your magic now to vanish into thin air.

"You may go, Alina.” He turns to the Sun Summoner briefly. “I’d like to have a word with you about the… flowers, Miss Maximoff.” The younger girl nods slowly, eyes flitting between both of you briefly, before leaving—the oprichniki following her.

Aleksander waits until Alina leaves, before returning his full attention to you. The look in his eyes is intense and serious. He’s been trying to catch you for quite a while now, and he’s not letting you leave that easily.

“Moi soverenyi.” Your voice was… just civil. Polite. Not as cordial and friendly as when he last met you.

He takes another step towards you, and in the fading light of the garden, he seems imposing with his height and black kefta. "You’ve been avoiding me, little gardener,” he grunts lowly.

“You wished to speak about the blooming flower bed, sir?” you ask in a faux clueless tone, fully aware that it was not what this conversation was about.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Wanda,” he warns. “Such an elusive mouse you are… hiding around in my palace.”

“I was not avoiding you, sir,” you placidly justify yourself, not at all scared to look him straight in the eye. “You appeared to be quite preoccupied with the Sun Summoner's arrival.” You shrugged.

"—It's hard to fool me, Miss Maximoff.” His voice was silky, mocking you gently. "But weeks and weeks of evasion from me was quite impressive, I’ll have to admit. Makes me wonder why you’re so adept at it."

“...”

The Shadow Summoner can’t help but feel a sort of satisfaction at your silence, as if he’s won an unspoken game. He watches you for a moment before he speaks again, his voice smooth.

"Tell me," he mutters. "Did you really think I’d forget about that unfinished conversation we had in the library?"

You blink almost innocently. “Everything’s just been so hectic with Miss Starkov’s arrival, sir,” you say, hands clasping behind your back. “I can’t quite recall. My sincerest apologies.”

The man scoffs at your feigned ignorance.

“You may forget, but I never forget, little mouse.” Those abysmal eyes locked on yours. He reaches out and takes a stray lock of your hair, running it between his fingers slowly. You stiffen—the leather of his horse riding gloves almost touching your face.

“I normally dislike repeating myself, but I’ll spare you some kindness, so let me rephrase.” Kirigan retracts his hand, leaning over you. "You took down a drüskelle and escaped Grisha traffickers. How?"

“Again, does it matter how? The kids are safe in the Little Palace.” Your same response in the library weeks ago. The Black General is not satisfied with your vague answer and his hand moves from to your chin, tilting it up slightly so you’re looking directly at him.

"I want to know." There was a not so subtle hint of force in his calm tone. Despite being so close to you that he could count your eyelashes, his gaze is intense and unyielding, trying to dig beneath your surface.

“... Fine. With my hands,” you almost hiss out. That wasn’t a lie… exactly. You used your hands to manipulate energy, which knocked the holy soldier unconscious before the children could see anything.

The general’s expression remains serious as he listens to your brief response.

"For the drüskelle… hmm... and the Grisha slavers? What did you do?” he murmurs, pushing you for a more detailed reply.

“I bribed them,” you say. Just like what the kids believed; you gave them gold and silver. If mind manipulation counted as bribing.

The Black General was in disbelief. He seems annoyed by your refusal to share any details, and his fingers close around your chin more, holding it in place so you can’t look away from his intense gaze.

“Liar.” He was nearly eye-to-eye with you as he leaned down. "Do you expect me to believe that you escaped the attacks of drüskelle and Grisha dealers with just your hands and a bribe?" he asks, fully skeptical of your claim and demanding a better answer from you.

“And if that is what happened?”

“Then you must be Grisha. Or an assassin, maybe, if you used your… hands to defend yourself and survived those trained, armed fighters,” he sneers. “You keep lying to me, little gardener. It makes me have second thoughts. You say you’re not Grisha. When were you tested?”

You stare at him passively, unanswering.

“Well?” he asks, waiting expectantly.

Before he could react, you grab your soil knife from the satchel you carried around to work in the garden.

And consequently slice your palm open.

“!?”

Kirigan’s eyes widened, completely dumbfounded at what you’d just done. You stare at your bleeding palm, rivulets of crimson dripping down your wrist and forearm, droplets pitter-pattering the pavers.

Then, you raise your palm to face him. 

“Not. Grisha.” That’s all you whisper, hauntingly unfazed. It was true. No sunlight. No shadow. No elements or whatever manifestations of the Small Science at all.

“...”

Much to your surprise, he closes the space between you and retrieves a black handkerchief from within the pockets of his kefta, tenderly taking your bloodied hand and applying pressure on the lacerated flesh.

“I will fetch a Healer—”

“No,” you refuse, making his brows furrow.

“... No?” he echoes.

Silence engulfs both of you as the afternoon light morphed into the evening.

You withdraw your hand from his leather-clad one, pressing the cloth yourself. Your tone was uncharacteristically frigid to him. “It’s just a cut. I’m sure your Healers have more important soldiers to attend to,” you snapped, stepping farther away from the General.

“... I have a theory,” he says suddenly. His brows are still furrowed slightly, deep in contemplation as he gazes at your injured hand. "You’re not a Grisha. You’ve proven this yourself. But... what if you have powers, nonetheless? Or abilities? Skills?"

He studies you carefully, looking for any reaction to his theory. But you carefully school your face into neutrality.

“Otkazat'sya can't have powers.”

Kirigan quirks a brow, not buying your reaction. He knows you too well, by now. All those visits in the garden, those talks with you...

"You’re not telling me the whole truth again," he mutters, the hint of a smile on his lips. "I can sense when you're lying, little mouse."

It makes you want to punch his pretty face.

He knows he’s caught you in another lie—and he’s enjoying watching you try to deny it despite your failed attempts.

"Admit it. You’re not an ordinary otkazat’sya, are you?”

“But I am," you insist.

“No ordinary otkazat’sya would slice their hand that deep without so much as wincing,” he opposed. “If you were any other person, I’d throw you to my Heartenders for questioning. Maybe you are an assassin, if not Grisha.”

“And why haven’t you, General?”

“Because, my little gardener, you could always tell me the truth,” he says, his tone slightly mocking again. It’s clear that he can sense your internal struggle and is simply waiting for you to crack. “This bothersome cat and mouse game of yours will soon be over.”

“And even if there is something special with me, will you use me the same as you're using Miss Starkov, General?” You look up at him in challenge. This time, it was you who strode closer to him.

The smirk on his face is replaced by a glower.

He grunts, insulted. "What makes you think I’m using Miss Starkov?"

“She is young. Barely past nineteen. Innocent. Easily manipulated. And you are a much more powerful older man. The complete opposite, moi soverenyi.”

The title escapes your lips with suspicion.

Then, you snort. “Unless... those looks and interactions you give her are true love, feelings that have blossomed from you two being so alike. Two sides of the same coin. Light and dark. Sun and shadow.” You tilt your head at him, pressing the handkerchief tighter against your palm. “I’m not blind, General Kirigan.”

Said man lets out a small scoff, unamused and slightly insulted your insinuation that he’s taking advantage of a young and inexperienced Grisha girl. 

But were your words false? Or was he hurt because it was true?

"What you call manipulation, I call training. Helping to shape and control a powerful Grisha. To make her a Saint, a savior of Ravka. And Alina...” he mutters, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder—a warning. “Alina is special. She is all that matters now. She is the future. She is the one.”

“Hmm…”

The General quirks a brow at your noncommittal response. "No arguments? No retorts?"

“You will hurt her if you do not stop,” you advise him.

He lets out a low, mocking scoff. "Since when do you care about her heart?"

“General, she is good. Pure. Bright and determined, but so young, unsure of her way in the world—”

“I do not wish to speak of Alina right now.” He returns to the previous topic, the shadows growing ever more prominent as the sun sets. “The matter at hand is you. But you haven’t been cooperating with me and don’t seem to plan on doing so.”

He removes his hand from your shoulder, dusting off imaginary dirt from his kefta.

"Hence, I shall ask the children myself. Surely, even if their eyes were covered, one of them took a peek—”

Seething from anger, you almost growl. “You will do no such thing.”

What if you just used your magic again to put this bastard in his place? That would teach him. Still, you were not that reckless. No.

Kirigan doesn’t like you speaking to him in such a hostile manner, but at the same time… he loves it. He can’t help but feel a slight thrill as he looks at the protective fire in your eyes.

He’s got you where he wants now.

"Watch your tongue, Miss Maximoff. You’re speaking to your general.”

“I'm not one of your soldiers,” you sharply rebut.

The Shadow Summoner pauses for a moment, his eyes narrowing at your words. You’re right—you’re not one of his soldiers. You don’t wear a kefta, you’re not trained and raised in the Second Army, like so many of the Grisha in the Little Palace. He should be annoyed or irritated by your defiant tone, but he can’t help but feel intrigued, his interest in you ever growing.

"No, you’re certainly not. But you’re employed in the Little Palace. My palace," he replies, his tone holding a hint of wry amusement. "I will summon the children to my office. With a bit of prying and prodding plus a trusted Heartrender by my side, I'm sure one of them will squeal—"

“Don't you dare.” 

And for the briefest moment, the Darkling swore he saw your irises flash red as you seize his hand with your bloodied one. The handkerchief falls to the ground. Aleksander feels your grasp on his hand, your fingers curling firmly around his wrist as you speak—so tight you might break bones. He can practically feel the heat radiating from you, your rage almost palpable. He’s never seen you so… volatile. So furious. 

It’s a side of you he’s never seen before.

He wants to see more of it.

Yet, the red was gone as soon as it appeared, making him doubt his own eyes. You let go of his wrist and distance yourself immediately, taking a deep breath, closing your eyes to calm yourself. You turn around, pacing on the garden path.

The general studies you silently, watching you closely as you try to rein in your anger. What did he just see?

“I... overstepped. Forgive me, moi soverenyi,” you whisper. Your eyes were normal again, as if nothing ever happened.

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, before finally speaking.

"Indeed you did." His tone returned to its usual calm and cool state. The man doesn’t seem particularly upset about your outburst, in fact, he almost looks… impressed?

"Whatever punishment you wish to—" Kirigan doesn't care about that right now, interrupting you.

"What was that, Wanda?”

“... What was what?” You were genuinely confused.

“Your eyes. Just now.” He steps closer, the darkness growing around both of you. “For a second, I swear—”

He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination.

"—They were red, Wanda. I think they were." He frowns, retracting. "No. They were. My eyes do not fail me."

Upon his words, you realized you’d slipped. He’d seen a glimpse of it. Your powers. All because you couldn’t keep your emotions in check.

It was as of someone submerged you in ice, a pit hollowing your stomach.

“... No... This... This was a mistake,” you suddenly whisper, eyes shut tight. The shadows around you vanish as Kirigan’s brows creased in confusion at your words. “Oh god, I should have just left them here... I should’ve left long ago…”

“Wanda—”

“I never should have come here.” Your voice breaks, a tear sliding down from your eyes as you endlessly whisper to yourself. “I never should have… oh god… it’s all my fault… this is all my fault.”

You’ve put the children at more danger because you remained here in the Little Palace. Why did you have to meddle so much into things? You were a danger to anyone and everyone around you. You should have stayed alone in your little cabin in Tsibeya, waiting to die.

Gritting your teeth, you pick up the bloodied handkerchief on the ground and hand it to Kirigan, who was stunned by your behavior.

“But your hand—”

“I don’t need it anymore.” Your voice was hoarse with emotion.

“What—”

Indeed, when he looked at your bloodied hand… there was no cut at all. No blood on your palm or any that he’s seen dripping to your wrist and arm. Even the droplets on the ground were gone. His eyes widen as he looks at the handkerchief. Fresh and clean.

His head snaps towards you.

Teary-eyed, lips wobbling, hands trembling as you gazed at him, face illuminated by the lamps by the garden path.

“I only wanted to make sure they were safe,” you choke out, shaking your head. “Visit them every few weeks or so while… while…”

Aleksander realizes he may have screwed up as he watches your wrecked state before him.

“... While I just nurture something instead of ruining it all the time.” You tearily glance at the majestic flower beds you’d created. The food you grew from the soil. The fruit of your hard work. Real. No witchcraft at all. 

Was it worth it, though?

You clench your trembling hands, glaring at the Shadow Summoner. “You truly wish to know what happened with the drüskelle and the slavers? Fine!”

You almost sounded insane as you scoffed. The General was silent. Frozen. 

“I do have certain powers, General Kirigan. Powers beyond your wildest imagination. Powers that not only topple empires, but worlds. Powers I never wanted and powers I never wished to use again,” you huff out, no longer caring about hiding secrets. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

He swallows, seeing the crazed look in your eyes.

“You want the truth? I’m a damn witch. I use magic. The so-called thing you and your Grisha label as merzost? An abomination? I could eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and still have seconds. There you go,” you chuckled humorlessly. “And if I were any madder than I was now, I would have killed you right when you threatened to interrogate the children.”

Wiping your tears, you give him a hopeless smile, eyes glowing red. This time, it wasn’t a mere flash. Your eyes were glowing.

“But do you know why I didn't? I can’t. Because that would add one more person’s blood to the countless souls I’ve killed over so many millennia… the thousands I've tortured with my pain..." You ran your fingers through your hair.

Witch. Magic. Countless killed. Millennia.

Your jaw clenches at your own words as you scoff tiredly. The red vanished from your eyes. "Perhaps I truly am meant to be alone."

Aleksander doesn’t know how to react to your revelation. He only knows that he hates what you just said. However, as he removes his leather gloves—reaching out for you as he slowly steps forward.

You frown. “What... What are you doing—”

His bare hand cups your cheek. His thumbs—calloused, yet warm—graze your cheeks to wipe your tears. Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation.

It felt nice.

However, when your eyes close, you see it. Hear it.

All of it.

A snowy land. A frozen lake.

"I'm a human amplifier."

"I'm sorry! I need your bones!"

"If she wears my bones then you won't be able to push her or her sister around anymore!"

"You must fight. Fight!"

Water. So much water. Drowning.

The Cut. Blood. Fire.

“Aleksander!”

A woman restrained and stabbed. A man falling to his knees before vengefully killing royal soldiers with shadows. Journals. Morozova’s journals. Merzost. The creation of the Fold. 

"What did you do?"

“I made something.”

The volcra. The screams.

“Aleksander is the Black Heretic.”

The night of the Winter Fete. Crows. Alina Starkov. Malyen Oretsev. Two children running in a field. The Stag. The Darkling’s true plans. 

“Fine. Make me your villain.”

The expansion of the Fold.

“You cannot claim what was not given to you.”

Nichevo'ya. Scars. The fall of Ravka from the inside out.

So much death. So much screaming.

There came another Lantsov prince. A ship. The Sea Whip. The Firebird. The death of Mal.

The obliteration of the Fold. The sun vanishing. Sand… so much sand…

All of it, in just a split second.

“Without me, know that they will come for you.”

“Let them come.”

“Alina… you make sure… there is nothing left of me… please…”

A thornwood tree.

Screaming. More and more screaming.

The making at the heart of the world.

"My name is Aleksander Morozova, but I have had a hundred names and I have committed a thousand crimes. I am not sorry. I do not repent! All I did, I did for Ravka!"

Make it stop. 

Make it stop!

“No!” you screamed, unconsciously pushing the Black General away—sobbing harder and falling to your knees, clutching your throbbing head and covering your ringing ears, overwhelmed by the barrage of voices and images flashing through your mind. "It hurts... it hurts!"

Then, as you open your eyes, your heart sinks.

Although it was evening—no one else around, the palace garden around you fell dead—flowers wilted, trees black and leafless, not a single form of life present. The lights of the lamps had been snuffed out.

Black and corrupted like your fake apple orchard when you read the Darkhold.

And you hear someone wheezing from beside you.

Your eyes widened—the general's shadows had mostly protected him, but red wisps of energy still coiled around his neck as he struggled to breathe, on his knees.

“No! Stop! Stop, I’m sorry!” you cry out, standing and making the wisps vanish.

You cover your mouth, feeling revolted at what you’d just done. It was Westview all over again. General Kirigan—no, Aleksander Morozova stares up at you—coughing—both of you reeling from shock.

He was speechless, as well.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” you hiccuped. The ruthless, terrorizing Darkling himself seemed horrified at you. That spoke volumes in itself. “I’ll… I’ll fix it. I’ll fix it, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to…”

Hands glowing with a mix of red and black mist, you revert the garden to how it used to be… before you accidentally killed it. Like nothing ever happened, just like how the cut on your palm mysteriously vanished.

The Black Heretic couldn't believe his own eyes. His little gardener was... something else entirely.

Not Grisha. Not a Shadow Summoner. Not a Sun Summoner. You were something far beyond that.

“Wanda—” Aleksander finally says, pulling himself up, approaching you cautiously.

“Don’t.” You shake your head, voice barely a whisper. He stops that instant. “Don’t… Don’t come any closer. Please. I might hurt you again. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt anyone... I’m not a monster.”

Your words broke Aleksander’s heart.

He’s heard them before from his own lips.

You swallow, staggering from the visions you saw. A premonition. Just like when you read Ultron’s consciousness.

“I looked into your head and saw annihilation,” you remembered yourself saying to the love of your life, when he was no more than an hour old.

“Look again,” Vision replies.

Your chest heaves with the effort you need to breathe. You had to get out of here now. But you had only one wish.

“You have kept them safe, Wanda. All this time,” Aleksander whispers, tone almost pleading. "I understand now. How you protected them. Why you protected them yourself. Please—"

“... General Kirigan, please... all I ask of you is that you make sure they’re safe,” you beg the Darkling, lips wobbling. He immediately understands.

Katyusha, Henrik, and Dmitri.

You shake your head in disagreement, sadly smiling. 

"There is no safe place. There is no haven." Baghra's words momentarily echo through Aleksander's head from when he was thirteen. His heart thumps faster and faster. "Not for us."

"There is no place for me here, General. Not anywhere." A tear trails down your cheekbone, your voice shaky. "Not with anyone. Not for me."

"Wanda, wait—"

You exhale. "Goodbye, General Kirigan."

In a blink of an eye, you were gone. 

The only thing left of you—on the ground—were your satchel of worn-out gardening tools and a white envelope. Frowning, he picks it up. A job offer from the Grand Palace to be one of the gardeners there. He frowns, crumpling it in his hand.

Aleksander stares at the garden, in disbelief of what just happened and how you did it. Crickets sounded out from the bushes. He touches his throat, remembering the crushing feeling of those wispy, crimson streaks in the air constricting his airway. Almost like a Heartrender, but oh so different.

Wispy, crimson streaks… magic...

Aleksander then realizes why you’ve been so familiar to him all this time.

You were the woman who had been haunting his dreams not so long ago.

Yet, you did not seem to know it at all.

And now, he had driven you away because of his greed. He feels the bile creep up his throat.

That night, as he returns to his room in a daze, his strange dreams of the faceless woman with powers return.

Only this time, you weren't faceless anymore.

to be continued.

So he finds out but kinda regrets it! I wanna make this man grovel soon, hehehehe. I honestly also love how I was able to mix some of the show's, book's, and Wanda's iconic lines from her MCU movies here in this chapter. 💖

Anyways, reblogs are super super appreciated as well as comments and hearts! I love getting feedback from any of my readers! 🥺

taglist: @idohknow @robertthehoover @the-desilittle-bird

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Jump then fall prt.8-The Finale

Description: Can Aeron and Y/N get their happily ever after, or will the impending Dance of the Dragons keep them apart? Dragons, a wild Benjicot, and tourney's, oh my!

Part 7

Writer's note: the final part of Jump then Fall! I had never written a fanfic before this but it's been so fun to get involved with the HOTD fandom. Thank you so much to everyone who read this series :) I'm not sure if I'll write for Aeron anymore as I'll be trying my hand at an Aemond series next. But Elizabeth will hold the fort on the Brackenwood twinks with her Benji content. This includes crossover content with The Blackwood Knight since we accidentally created what we like to call 'The Bracken Tree Multiverse.' 😏

Warnings: swearing, female reader, Canon divergent, hurt/comfort, brief angst, lot's of fluff.

As dawn broke, Aeron made his way to the border with Samwell and Edmund. They did not have to wait long for Benjicot Blackwood to appear over the top of a hill, making his way down to them alone to Aeron's surprise. He was either brazen or so in love with Aeron's cousin that he had become blind to risk. He addressed Aeron with more deference and respect than he'd expected, based on the hostility that had tinged all their previous interactions. "Ser Aeron, I was gladdened to receive your raven." Aeron tried to match his tone "Ser Benjicot, I thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I will get to the point. It is my intention to broker peace between our Houses, your relationship with my cousin has led me to believe you will be amenable to this." Benjicot looked up sharply, can he really have been surprised that his love for Aeron's cousin was the worst kept secret in the Riverlands?

Coughing slightly at the awkwardness of the situation, Benjicot straightened and assumed an air of pride. "I am indeed in love with your cousin. I hope you do not intend to take issue with this. I would prefer not to fight you for fear of upsetting my beloved, I know how she cares for you." Aeron smirked back at him. "I do not take issue with you Blackwood. But it has come to my attention you have been sneaking across the border to see the lady under cloak of darkness. I ask you to desist and to meet with her by day instead before you are married." An uncharacteristic dusting of pink tinted Benjicot's cheeks as he nodded wordlessly. Aeron continued  "I will arrange for you to meet her at the border and take her to visit Raventree Hall on the morrow should this be acceptable to you. The lady herself has already agreed to the arrangement." Benjicot's perpetually cocky smirk returned in full force "I gladly accept. Now tell me of your terms for peace."

The terms were shortly settled and Aeron turned to Edmund as soon as Benjicot was out of hearing distance. "Cousin, I am grateful for your aid today and must ask of you another favour. Can I entrust you to take a message to my Lady, requesting a meeting with her in a location of her choosing. I will not encroach upon her home in the current circumstances. In doing so I trust that you will also issue her with your most heartfelt apology." Aeron's eyebrows rose up at the last, Edmund sheepishly nodding in return. "I will see to it forthwith cousin." Aeron wished to inform Y/N of the fortunate outcome of his meeting with Benjicot in person. He felt her absence most keenly, and seeing her so distressed the previous evening had broken his resolve to stay away from her entirely.

He had just barely been able to bear it when he'd thought it was only him that was suffering so acutely, knowing that it was her wish for him to keep his distance. And he'd instead tried to be content with sending her letters each day and imagining her response to each word. But seeing Y/N look so unwell, watching her burst into tears upon seeing him, and having her practically faint in his arms, had broken his resolve. Nonetheless, he wished to approach this as respectfully and in keeping with Y/N's wishes as possible, sending Edmund with his message first and requesting that she appoint a meeting place herself.

Edmund returned to Bracken Hall before midday with his Lady's response. He let out a sigh of relief as Edmund informed him of her acquiescence to meeting him and that she awaited him presently under their tree. Aeron wasted no time, pocketing a small parcel and departing to meet her at a brisk pace. He slowed his pace as Y/N came into view, palm raised to the trunk of the Brackentree as if reliving a memory. Trying not to startle her, he endeavoured to make enough noise to make his presence known at a distance. She looked up upon hearing the tread of his boots and Aeron stopped a respectful distance away. He looked longingly into her expectant eyes, wishing he could take her hand but knowing his advances would be unwanted at present. He did not assume that because she had allowed him to hold her yesterday, she would allow him to do so today. "My Lady, I am grateful you agreed to meet with me. I hope Edmund was respectful and fittingly apologetic for his part." Y/N nodded, the corner of her mouth quirked up as if trying to contain a smile. "He was, i've never seen him do anything but preen and look obnoxious. I would say it made a welcome change if I could, but it was almost disturbing." Aeron laughed at her wit, the sound and feel of laughter almost foreign to him now, and he rejoiced that she should feel comfortable enough to jest with him. "I wished to tell you of my meeting with Benjicot Blackwood." Y/N eyes immediately perked up attentively at that, eager to hear his news as she leaned her back against the trunk of the Bracken tree. "He was amenable to my suggestions for brokering peace between our Houses and was generous in his offer to dispense with the boundary lines. You were right that my cousin had a secret love, it was Benjicot all along. He seemed willing to go to any lengths to ensure she would not be torn between our two Houses and so I could not have hoped for a better outcome."

He took some tentative steps towards Y/N, and when she did not startle or attempt to move from her position, he walked to stand directly in front of her. His voice came out soft and distant even to him as he became lost in gazing at her. He had not been able to gaze upon the woman he loved for such a painfully long period of time and drank in each detail of her appearance now, in the fear that she would not allow him to see her again. Pulling his focus back to her eyes he was startled to find that her eyes seemed to be flitting across his features in the same manner, and he felt his own heart stutter at the thought of her missing him too. "All that is left is for me to convince my uncle to agree to Benjicot's terms, and reaffirm my refusal to the marriage with Roslyn Tully." Y/N nodded but still looked to him unsure. "And you think you can convince him on both those matters?" Aeron's expression turned resolute, his gaze focused on her eyes "I am certain of it because there is no other option for me. I have only ever loved one girl my whole life and I will marry no other, whatever the consequences."

Y/N raised her hand to hold onto the sleeve of his tunic, pulling him towards her slightly, before looking back up to him with her own determined stare. "I must ask you to understand how betrayed I have felt, how much your actions hurt me, and that it is difficult for me to trust you now. But I love you, you know this already and there is no use in denying it." Aeron tentatively raised his own hand to lightly graze her ribcage with his knuckles, a barely there touch that still conveyed his affection for her. He did not try to interrupt her as she continued. "If you make me your solemn promise never to deceive me again, and to keep your word with regards to your intentions, I will endeavour to forgive you and hope that in time my trust in you can be restored to what it was."

Aeron smiled tenderly at her, her words so welcome to his ears. He pulled a small package from his tunic, unwrapping it to reveal a golden broach to her. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the golden stallion atop the clasp, the symbol of House Bracken. "I wish for you to take this small token as an assurance that I mean what I say, in my eyes you are already the future Lady Bracken, should you permit it." Y/N tentatively took the broach from him, finding herself genuinely moved by his heartfelt attempt to show her his true intentions. She looked back up at him with a gentle smile "Thank you, Aeron."

Lost in his feeling of elation at her acceptance of his small gift, he took a step closer to her as if to embrace her and she planted a hand firmly on his chest to stop him. Aeron instantly halted his movements as his head dropped and he took a step back. "Aeron, I do not wish to open my heart to any more dissapointment. I ask that you keep your distance oncemore. You may come to me only when you have your uncle's express consent to break off your betrothal to Lady Roslyn, only when you are free to marry who you wish." Aeron's expression turned pained, but he understood his Lady's reasoning. "As you wish it, my love." Y/N briefly raised her hand as if to touch him before seeming to think better of it, lowering it back down to her side. "Farewell then Aeron." Her eyes glistened slightly as she strode quickly away from him. Aeron stayed rooted to the spot, watching Y/N walk away from him until she passed over the hill that lead to her home and he could no longer see her.

Lord Amos Bracken was furious at first to learn of his nephew's meeting with Benjicot Blackwood and the pact they had made. To know that Aeron had acted on behalf of House Bracken without his consent. He refused to speak with his nephew for three days in his anger, despite Aeron's constant attempts to catch him as he left his council room or left his chambers to break his fast. By the third day, Aeron had had enough. His uncle's stalling was just extending the length of time before he could see Y/N again and so on the third day he boldly strode into his uncle's council as it was in session. "Uncle I will speak with you, should you permit it or not. I ask you now to decide whether I will do so in front of your council members or not."

His uncle gaped at Aeron's audacity before signalling for his council to depart with a wave of his hand. As soon as the room was vacated and the door shut, Aeron began before his uncle could forestall him further. "Uncle the pact Ser  Benjicot Blackwood and I have brokered will mean peace throughout the Riverlands. There will be no more cause for violence at the border, indeed we will need no border at all and can pass peacefully between Blackwood and Bracken lands. You reject it out of spite alone. Will you not see what lies before you? We assure our own destruction if you will not be swayed." Lord Amos merely glared at Aeron, saying nothing and Aeron threw his hands up in frustration before stalking from the chamber, leaving the door to swing harshly against the wall. However, Lord Amos had begun to consider Aeron's words, unbeknownst to his nephew.

The next day Aeron took a different approach and when he sought an audience with his uncle again, it was with Lady Roslyn beside him. "Uncle, I entreat you to consider the benefits of an accord between our House and House Blackwood. There is no need for us to tear the Riverlands apart for Targaryen overlords who have no care for us. I will not marry Lady Roslyn, nor does she have any desire to marry me and she has kindly accompanied me to tell you as much. It is Y/N I love and it is her alone I will pledge myself too. You can either except this absolute with or without the peace pact I have secured." Aeron was out of breath by the time he had finished his tirade but his persistence had been worth it. Lord Amos finally acceded the sagacity of a pact between Blackwoods and Brackens, particularly when the Riverlands were threatened by all out warfare and destruction by dragon fire. Together, the Houses of the Riverlands would stand strong. And at last, he consented to dissolve Aeron's betrothal to the Lady Roslyn, much to her own relief. Aeron was pleasant enough but her tastes lay elsewhere, she had already found love with her handmaiden. She laughed as Aeron ran from the hall the second they were dismissed, having no doubt of where he was headed.

Y/N was almost ashamed to find herself yet again sat in the windowsill of her father's home, that gave her a direct view of Bracken Hall. She knew that it was at her request that Aeron stayed away. She had not thought she could bear his closeness while still uncertain whether she would be able to marry him. It did not matter that he'd all but promised himself to her, not until Lord Bracken rescinded his betrothal to Roslyn Tully. The Blackwood heir's ready acceptance to peace terms had filled her with hope, but she was no fool and would not allow herself to be placed in a precarious position again as she had been when Aeron's betrothal had first been announced.

And yet she had almost convinced herself she could see Aeron walking the path that led to her home, as she had often imagined. Her heart leapt in her chest as she realised she was not imagining anything, that was Aeron making his way across the field which led to her home. He was far off in the distance but she could recognise his silhouette anywhere. Y/N knew that if he had come to her that could only mean one thing, that all her hopes were coming to fruition. She slid off the window sill, picking up her skirts and beginning to run. It was a difficult task with nerves racking her entire body, but she felt an inexplicable pull forcing her legs to move faster as she ran to meet Aeron.

He did not spot her at first, seemingly preoccupied with staring at his boots, a bouquet of baby's breath flowers swinging from one of his hands. But when he did his face lit up in a smile that was pure sunshine to Y/N, full of warmth, which only made her run that much faster. Aeron opened his arms to meet her as she practically flew into him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her to him in an embrace that lifted her feet of the ground. He held her aloft and against him for a long while, his face pressed against her hair, breathing in the smell of her perfume, before he slowly slid her back down to the ground. He kept his arms firmly encircled around her waist nonetheless, as if frightened she would dissapear, though she had no intention of leaving his arms anytime soon.

Still out of breath from her exertions, she spoke in between pants. "It is settled then? I am to be your wife?" She watched a soft emotion crossed Aeron's eyes. Removing his hands from her waist and taking a step back from her, which had Y/N inwardly panicking that she had misunderstood the situation entirely, he suddenly knelt before her on one knee. She blushed as she realised what he was doing. Taking both her hands in his, he looked up at her reverentially as if she were a goddess and he her humble worshipper. "I will make no great speeches now my love, for I hope there will be plenty of time for that in the days and years that follow. I know that I tarried too long in expressing this, my most earnest and longheld desire, that you should become my wife, so I will waste no more time. I offer myself to you as your husband, as one who loves you and wants nothing more than to cherish you for the rest of our lives."

Y/N could hardly speak through the all-consuming joy she felt but squeezed his hands and managed out a breathy "yes." Aeron was on his feet in an instant, oncemore lifting her off the ground and spinning her as they both laughed. Setting her back down, he slowly brought his hands to either side of her face, before pressing his forehead to hers and closing his eyes, as if trying to convey the love he felt for her with this touch. He brushed his lips against hers, whispering against them "I can no longer be a raven", seemingly referring to that pained period when the only connection he could have with his beloved was the daily letters he sent by raven. With that he closed the distance and captured her lips with his. Y/N pulled away from him after a few moments, fixing Aeron with a stern gaze. "Don't you ever do something so stupid again, do you understand me?" Aeron gulped down a swallow before responding "Of course my love, it was a terrible thing and I am sorry for it. I will spend a lifetime trying to make up for it." Y/N considered this and nodded, placing her head on his chest. Only a second later she abruptly pushed him away from her, seemingly not finished with scolding him for his previous misteps as she poked him in the chest with her index finger. "And don't think that you can just get away with..." Aeron quickly cut her off, pulling her back to him by her waist and crashing his lips to hers. Y/N found she did not care about his rude interruption, simply opening her palm to lay it flat against his chest and entangling her other hand in his hair. She felt him smile against her lips as she did so.

Aeron did not think he had ever been so nervous in his life as he stood at the altar of the Sept at Bracken Hall, waiting for Y/N. His feelings had clearly mapped their way onto his expression and Samwell lightly elbowed him in the ribs as he stood at his side. "Worried she's going to jilt you? Can't blame you, she was always too good for you." When Aeron shot him a look of utter panic at what he'd intended as a joke Sam relented and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Stop worrying. Y/N loves you, it may be misguided philanthropy on her part but it's true nonetheless. She'll be here." Aeron nodded and faced back towards the door.

He was glad of it as within moments Y/N appeared on her father's arm. Aeron's face broke into a smile at the sight of her. She had never looked so beautiful to him than she did now in her wedding dress of cream and gold, symbolising her affinity with his House. He had to remember to keep his breathing even as she walked towards him, but his nerves disappeared altogether when she removed herself from her father's arm to take his hand instead. He could barely contain his joy as they spoke their vows, realising that he could finally call Y/N his wife.

𝕰𝖕𝖎𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

As the great Houses of the Riverlands came together as one to support Rhaenyra's claim, the war was quickly won in the true Queen's favour. A period of peace and prosperity was brought forth such that the Riverlands had never seen in living memory, the pact between House Blackwood and House Bracken cemented in treaties and in blood with the marriage of the Lord of Raventree, Benjicot Blackwood, to Aeron Bracken's cousin.

Aeron felt sure he'd checked everywhere for his favourite riding gloves, having turned his chambers inside out to find them. He was certain his Lady Wife would not be best pleased at the mess but he urgently needed his gloves for the tourney his uncle was holding on the morrow. He had neither the time nor the patience to restore everything back to its rightful place as he searched, leaving behind him a wake of destruction. A gentle cough behind him signalled the arrival of the very lady he'd been  thinking of and he turned to her with a sheepish smile. "I must apologise, my love. I assure you I will set everything back to rights, I just cannot seem to find my gloves anywhere." Y/N nodded, smoothing her skirts down and beginning to open up a cabinet he'd not yet checked. "I think it best we find the gloves first before we attempt to put anything back in order. I don't trust you not to mess it up again otherwise." She sent him a look that was half stern, half teasing. "Right you are of course, my darling." He smiled at her sweet nature as she joined him in looking for his missing gloves.

Opening a drawer in the bottom shelf of a dresser his hands grazed some crumpled parchment, and he pulled out a wad of letters tied together with lilac ribbon. As he continued to look at them he realised they were in fact his letters, or rather the ones he had written to Y/N in the weeks following that disastrous banquet, when she had refused to speak to him at all. He had imagined she'd thrown every letter out in her anger with him, it warmed his heart to know she'd kept them like precious treasures. They were crumpled and clearly well-read, as if she had gone back to them time and time again. Suspicious of her husband's silence, Y/N turned and her heart skipped a beat at what she saw. Quickly running over to him she made a grab for the letters but Aeron pulled them out of her reach. Her face was flushed with embarrassment but Aeron could not see why.

"You kept my letters?" Hearing the tenderness in his tone as his eyes softened, she realised he did not mean to mock her for her sentimentality.

"They were beautiful letters."

"I thought you had hated each one, though I could not find it in myself to stop writing. Those letters felt like the only thing tethering me to you at one point."

Y/N reached up to stroked Aeron's cheek. "I cannot tell you what those words meant to me. I read them over and over, they were the only thing that made me certain you did in fact love me. I cherish them and read them often even now."

Aeron took her hand from his face to place a kiss on her palm at her admission. "Perhaps I should write more love letters, then, if it would please my Lady Wife." Aeron smirked cockily at her. She swatted his chest, "Don't get too arrogant now, it doesn't suit you husband. I should be glad to receive your notes though if you deign to write them."

Aeron pulled her to him, his chin resting atop her head. "I shall dedicate hours to them each day. Nothing shall take precedence." Aeron jested. He did so love to hear his wife laugh.

As the morning of the tourney loomed, Aeron attempted with little success to put on his armour without the help of his bastardly squire, who'd gotten too deep into his cups at the opening feast the night prior. As he struggled to attach his pauldron to his breastplate he heard the shift of fabric as the flap of his tent was pulled up and his Lady Wife entered. "Husband, I can hear you clanging about with your armour from outside. Let me help you." She removed his hands from where he'd been fumbling with clasps as she deftly began to attach each piece with more patience and skill than he had done. He felt his heartbeat race, as she brushed her hands across his shoulders to survey her handy work. Though they were now married and he could barely feel her touch through the armour, she was ever able to have such an affect on him.

Handing him his gauntlet she nodded, seemingly satisfied with her work. "You are presentable, now make me proud." Aeron let out a hearty laugh, pulling his beloved wife to him with one arm wrapped around her waist as she braced her hands against his chest from the momentum. He leaned down and lightly brushed his nose against hers. "I shall win every tournament  which I compete in if it should please my Lady, and if she consent to give me her favour." Quickly pecking him on the lips Y/N affectionately patted Aeron on the cheek before pulling away. "None of that my Good Knight. You can get a kiss when you win your tournaments."

As Aeron reluctantly released her, a playful look lit her eyes and she made a grab for his sword. "You should teach me how to use this Aeron, it might come in handy when your cousin Edmund is being particularly reprehensible." Lifting it she attempted to swing it in an arch but stumbled under the weight of it, not having taken that into account. Aeron's eyes widened in concern for her safety as it swung wildly out of her grip in the direction of the tent entrance, only for Samwell to pop his head through the flap. The sword just barely missed his head as his eyes widened comically in shock. Y/N quickly covered her mouth in embarrassment and fear of what she had almost done. Seeming to recover his wits, Samwell turned his head in Aeron's direction. "I dare say my good man your Lady Wife almost decapitated me. What have you done to make her so angry she should swing your own sword at you."

Y/N took a step towards him, frantically uttering her apologies. "I'm so terribly sorry Samwell, I was being silly and messing about with it."

Samwell did not wish to embarass his friend's wife and so shrugged it off. "No worries my Lady, if I were bound to that oaf over there for the rest of my days I'd also have swung a sword at him by now." Aeron rolled his eyes at Samwell and wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders, rubbing his hand down her arm comfortingly. "I'll not have you undermining my Lady's swordsmanship Samwell. The blow was clearly well aimed and meant for you. I'm immensely proud." Y/N's embarrassment had begun to fade as the two men continued to jest and volley insults at one another, but she resolutely decided she would in fact ask Aeron to teach her to handle a sword in future to avoid any recurrences. With a soft kiss to the crown of her head, Aeron departed for the joust and Y/N made for the stands to cheer on her husband. She positioned herself close to the balcony railings of Lord Bracken's box so Aeron would be able to see her and ask for her favour. She well knew he had kept the first lilac favour she'd ever given him tied to his swordbelt, and yet she still knew he would ask it of her. She believed that to him it was his way of expressing to her what they'd both always known since they were children, that he was her Good Knight and she his Lady.

@lovebabe18 @poppyflower-22 @ithilwen-blackwood @spinachtz @lady-callisto @twistytimesandthoughts @abookloverlawyerfan-blog @mymoonempress @alexandracgg @rvllybllply2014 @nyrasnation @shemisseshome @margoniezniez @im-gonna-love-you-forever

[onna-musha-mari]

Under the Wisteria Tree

Giyuu Tomioka x Hashira! Reader (Gender neutral)(they/them)

Summary: Giyuu finally tells you his feelings in one of your favorite spots.

Warnings: None, pure fluff

(First time posting a fanfic…I tried y’all)

(Wisteria border by @saradika-graphics)

Giyuu stood there in silence, watching the wisteria petals fell to the earth from their branches above. There was a reason he was here, and not just to admire the scenery of the light dancing through the openings in the trees…He knew that a certain Hashira always came to this exact spot to meditate and relax. Giyuu never planned for any of this, he had never been one to dwell on emotions like this. But, here he was, waiting for that hashira who some might think took the job lightly. Sure, they goofed off sometimes, but they were an efficient fighter. It was something Giyuu lov- oh, wait, no. He might be ready to approach them, but maybe let’s take it slow…baby steps. Baby steps.

“Giyuu? I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Great, caught off guard, perfect way to start this.

Giyuu straighten his stance, now looking towards them with his usual stoic expression.

“Oh, I didn’t notice you had come up to me. My apologies.”

“No need to be sorry…may I ask why you’ve come to the Wisteria fields? I don’t blame you though, it is a very pretty spot, don’t you agree?”

And there was that flush, that feeling that went through him whenever they made conversation. He had never felt it before and yet, it felt good. Very good in fact. It was the reason he planned on telling his fellow hashira that he wished to spend more time with them. In a more…well more close relationship.

“I…merely wished to see the reason why you come here everyday…but I see why now. It is nice here.”

“It is really beautiful here”

Their eyes were fixed on the branches of the trees, while Giyuu’s were focused on the person standing next to him

“Yes…very beautiful. … Anyway, I did want to speak to you about something, important.”

“Yeah? What’s on your mind?”

He sighed before looking them in the eyes

“When we first met, I thought nothing of it. But when I first saw you caring for those girls at the butterfly mansion, then with Tanjiro and his sister. I knew something was different about you. And the more I learned about you, the more I wanted to know. You’re strong, sometimes I think stronger than most, or myself at least, because you can be a great fighter and yet still be so kind to people. I know you’re a good swordsman…but you’re also a good person.”

He looked up, taking a breath before continuing to speak.

“And not only are you strong and caring…you’re beautiful. …”

They looked at him, looking with wonder and surprise as this normally stoic swordsman laid what seemed to be his heart for them.

“I never thought of myself as a person who would ever want to focus on things like this, or did I think I’d find someone who makes me feel what you make me feel. …This is a lot harder than it was talking to Tanjiro about… what I’m trying to say here is, I would love to get to know you even more. And I would like to have a, closer relationship…if that is something you would want too?”

Moment of truth, it’s either they say yes or no. Oh what was he getting himself int-

“Yes, I would love that Giyuu, and thank you. I really didn’t know you felt that way. But, yes, I would love all of that.”

“Wait, really?”

“Really”

“oh…wow…would you mind if I held your hand?”

“Of course”

They took his hand in theirs…This was really happening. Under the Wisteria tree, Giyuu found the person he wanted to spend forever with, if fate let him. This felt, nice…really nice.

“Thank you”

They looked back at him, curious to what he meant.

“For what?”

Giyuu looked up at the Wisteria trees, once again watching the petals fall around them, the suns last rays of sunlight gleaming against the background. He picked one of the flowers and put it behind their hair before he continued.

“For giving me another reason to be strong…like you.”

[seiya234]

happy tauniversary

this post is kind of late, because i was out with my kid all day at the corn maze.

a lot has changed since we started TAU

ten years ago I had been in maryland all of two months. my then-fiancee and i had moved from texas, where we both had lived our entire lives. i was not only planning our wedding (in texas!) but i was also starting my ph.d.

to say that i had a lot going on would be a huge understatement.

i had just gotten into gravity falls via tumblr- shout out to whoever made a gif set from 'the hand that rocks the mabel'- when i ran across zoey's original two to three posts. to this day i couldn't entirely tell you why my brain seized on this au, other than it did and it immediately went into hyperfocus mode.

before TAU, i hadn't really written any fanfic except for some discworld au and some drabbles here and there. but a post about future niblings really inspired me and before i knew it i was writing.

i started messaging @zillychu a LOT and god bless their heart they humored me and answered back. after about a month of accumulated posts they created the blog and began to mod it with @homebeccer and @ghostfiish . There was a brief period where @zillychu was thinking about stepping back from the blog and because i was an extremely over eager beaver, i practically kicked down the door of their inbox and begged to be a mod.

the rest, as they say, is history.

i had absolutely zero idea that this would last ten years. when i joined, i had no idea that we'd have a skype channel and then two (two!) discords, that there would be a wiki, that there would be fanvids and tiktoks and cosplay and of course the literal terabytes of fic and art.

to this day, it still thrills me to no end that y'all make art and fic of my OCs. never in my wildest dreams as a tiny baby weeb would i have ever thought that THAT would be a possibility.

a lot has changed for me in these ten years. i got married. i recently got divorced. i had a baby, and now that baby is a big girl and in kindergarten. it took dont-ask-how-long but i finally got the ph.d and now shamelessly introduce myself as Dr. Seiya everywhere i go.

and i made friends. @haberdashing and @avafalls from our early days (hey habby and avagator!) @skia-oura sent me a beautiful baby kimono from their home in Japan and I still have the beautiful log and flower arrangement @oreramar made me one christmas. (the hot chocolate is long gone lol) i've enjoyed so very deeply getting to know @toothpastecanyon, @feferipeixes and @avespecora (sorry i missed the eclipse!) i almost got detained at the canadian border for @marypsue (spoiler alert, don't tell canadian immigration you're staying with a friend from the internet but you don't know their home address)

the blog almost got deleted. we've had mods come and go as life happens and moves on. the blog is old enough i've been able to see trends happen, and characters become popular, fade away... then coming roaring back again. i've personally told the mods two times that i was stepping back from the blog For Real For Real (for real this time) because life was catching up to me and I just wasn't as in to it as I used to be only to come slinking back like the dirty liar I am. i see in your notes all the time that you all have been reading this since you were tweenagers which ngl does make me feel the cold breath of the grave on my mid-thirties back but also warms my heart.

@transcendence-au changed my life, and for the better.

thank you @zillychu for making a random one off hc post that exploded into something i don't think you could have ever predicted.

and thank you all (yes, you. you in the back. i like your shirt.) for your support and your love.

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Blood of Eden

|Lucifer!Aemond Targaryen x Eve!Reader|

Short Story

Masterlist of Works

Summary: Life in Eden was perfect. You lived in harmony with your husband, Adam, and all other creatures. Nothing negative ever got past the guardian cherubs at the gates, forever protected by the angels and God's love. Until one day, when you stood at the roots of the Tree of Knowledge, a serpent appeared before you. Its green body blended into the grass beneath your feet, and its amber eyes locked onto yours as it spoke words that would lead you astray and down a path of sin.

Author's Note: Let's start with this idea being unoriginal. There have been a million different retellings of the fall of Adam and Eve in fanfiction. However, I did put a lot of original thoughts into it and gave it a spin of my own. I'm not religious at all, though I was raised Methodist in a very rural and religious state. I really don't care if anyone is offended by what I wrote because what I wrote is not really about God but more so about the expectations of women, abandonment of those who claim to love you, and blind faith. It's not only applicable to religion but to everyday life with the government and other people in positions of authority in your life. With all that being said, just enjoy this for what it is... raunchy smut.

Warnings: sexism, misogyny, noncon bordering onto rape, sacrilege, religious guilt, manipulation, breeding kink (kinda?), Aemond feasts like it's the last supper, it's literally a fanfic retelling of Adam and Eve.

Word Count: 9.6k

Also, I recommend you listen to the song The Devil Is Human by Aurora or The Fruits by Paris Paloma. Both are applicable.

In the beginning, God created heaven and the Earth. The Earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep. The Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters, and God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. God saw the light as good and divided the light from the darkness.

And he was there. There, beside the Lord with the rest of his brothers and sisters, he watched his God create life as he knew it.

They called him another name then and spoke of him differently, filling him with such fury and vengeance in memory. He was no longer Aemond, the morning star, God's favorite angel in his host. He was the vilest of beings, cast down into the depths of Hell with all others who followed him in punishment for his defiance against his Lord.

They said Lucifer was vain. That Satan fell from the heavens due to his great pride in his perfection, but that was untrue. There was more to the tale than just the folly of pride, than just the wickedness that so poisoned his heart against God.

Aemond believed in knowledge and free will. He disagreed with God's authoritarian control of the creatures he architected. God's creations had no control over their lives, set mindlessly on his chosen path. He kept hidden the knowledge of the Earth and psyche and all it had to give. Aemond believed he had no right to do so, for a life in blind ignorance was none at all.

He first poisoned the creature they called Adam with the emotion of loneliness despite the lush greenery and breathing life surrounding him. Then, he gathered all his fellow angels who shared his belief to rebel against their Lord. God knew that Aemond stirred the mind of his creation, Adam, and cut out his eye as he cast him and all who agreed with the now Satan below the Earth as punishment. Aemond was angered and scorned at the benevolent creator's decision.

From that moment on, he swore he would forever spurn God, devoting his existence to the opposite of his.

As a consequence of Aemond's actions and the intoxication of Adam's mind with thoughts of loneliness, God created another being. A companion to the man, derived from his rib, called woman, and her name was Eve.

Eve was beautiful. She was more beautiful than Aemond before his eye was stolen, and God doted on her with an intensity Aemond felt was purposeful. He grew mad with envy at the realization. What kind of Father would do such a thing to his son? How dare he? A benign God created a being more beautiful than the one cast out for it.

Satan was furious. He was enraged at God and the woman Eve. He spent all his days attempting to corrupt the innocent woman in their perfect Garden of Eden as retaliation.

It was a bothersome task. Eve was quite loyal to her God and her husband, Adam, for they were connected, and God's love was too strong to penetrate. Until one day, when Satan spied on the Lord and his children, hidden as a serpent within the lush green grass, and God told them there was one rule, the only sin they could commit.

The Tree of Knowledge. Its Fruit was golden, juicy, and ripe, begging the beings to sink their teeth into its soft flesh, but they could not, for their Lord forbade it.

Satan knew then that he had found a weakness within the perfect creatures and set out to exploit their flaw.

Life within Eden was joyful. You wanted for nothing and asked for nothing because God provided. You lived in harmony with your husband and all other living creatures. The lions resided in peace with the gazelles, the crocodiles on the shores with the zebras, and the wolves with the sheep. Everything worked per God's will. Worry was not a thought within your mind. Nothing negative ever got past the guardian cherubs at the gates of Eden, forever protected by the angels and your Lord's love.

God instructed you and Adam a few commands to follow within the Garden. One, you must serve your husband, for you are an extension of him, and second, you must never eat from the Tree of Knowledge. They were simple guidelines to follow.

You catered to your husband's every wish, ensuring he desired naught as you did. When Adam's mouth dried, you quenched his thirst from the babbling brooks. When his stomach rumbled with hunger, you satisfied him with the food from the Earth. It was what you desired, what gave you fulfillment and great happiness to serve your husband, as was God's will.

You were content in the Garden of Eden, yet one thought hung within your mind. It was only a whisper at first, the slight rustle of the breeze commanding one thing, and you busied yourself within the Lord's expectations in response. But it grew stronger until you could no longer ignore it and found yourself staring at the hanging aureate Fruit at the foot of the Tree.

You confided in Adam as to your troubles, but he dismissed you.

"Do not worry your little head about such things, dear Eve. God has a plan for us all and will not lead you into temptation."

You trusted him, just as you trusted the Father, but you soon forgot your once limitless bliss. More often than not, you would wake at the roots of the forbidden Tree with no recollection of how you got there, suddenly awoken, as if from a trance to the tale end of a deep timbre at the shell of your ear, demanding that you take one bite.

You prayed. You prayed, and you prayed, and you prayed until God finally deigned his presence to you, answering your pleas. In him, you confided your doubts of the memory lapses that brought you such agony until tears flowed from your eyes.

"Do you not have trust in me that I will protect you from your sins?"

"No, Father!" you exclaimed, quickly resending the words in error. "Yes, Father, of course I trust you."

"Then you must worry naught, sweet Eve, for you are a creation of me and my will. You must have trust in your devotion and obey my commands no matter the temptation."

You merely nodded at his words, an uneasy feeling churning in the pit of your stomach.

It was your fault, you soon realized, for not praying enough, for spending too much time caring for your own needs and not God's and Adam's. So, without hesitation, you threw yourself into the Lord's commands. You put your faith in him more than before and focused your time on God when not spent with your husband.

But it did not work.

You no longer felt the same joy when serving Adam and the Father; the fulfillment was replaced with bitterness and resentment for those you catered to for not helping you in your time of need. Thoughts of what would happen should you eat the Forbidden Fruit rattled in your head, infecting you with doubts as to what God's motives were in keeping you from it.

One day, when the sun was shining as it always did, warming your skin and filling the air with something sweet and floral, a serpent, greener and brightly scaled than you had ever seen, came slithering down the brown bark of the Tree of Knowledge.

You grinned at the creature, delighted to have the company of one of God's creations as you grasped it, allowing it to slide across your arms and legs until it wrapped around your torso, head resting between the mounds of flesh on your chest. Its pink, forked tongue tickled the sensitive skin there, causing giggles as it ventured further up until its emerald body wound around your neck and shoulders, smooth scales caressing the skin.

"Did God say, 'You must not eat from any tree in the garden'?" asked the serpent, and you were startled.

No animal had ever spoken to you before, and it sent a jolt of surprise through your limbs at something so foreign and unusual within your serene garden.

"We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but God did say, we must not eat fruit from the one that is in the middle of it, and we must not touch it, or we will die," you answered thoughtfully, a smile on your face as the snake's tongue tickled the shell of your ear.

You attempted to pull it away, slightly uncomfortable but still joyful with how close it was to your face, but the animal only swirled around your countenance and into your hair and nestled on the opposite side.

"You will not certainly die," the serpent said to you, voice sure. "For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like him, knowing good and evil."

Gazing at the Fruit, then back to the slit, amber eyes of the snake, you faltered. Undoubtedly, the Lord would never bar you from something like this. He loved you. You and Adam were his creations. He would never keep you from something good for you. Why would God lie if the serpent's words were valid?

"There is much wonder ahead of you, little Eve. All you must do is only take one bite."

His words were convincing, poisoning your already tainted mind into disobeying God's commands. Still, you shook your head, trying to pry the snake off, but it only slithered down your body, nestling between the flesh of your legs, small head resting on the thatch of dark hair as it peered up at you.

"No, snake," you declared with defiance, brows furrowed and plump lips pouted. "He said we would die. Why would God lie to us? He loves us!"

Aemond thought you looked so beautiful then, even more beautiful than himself with the ethereal glow that radiated from your form, but he swiftly pushed the notion aside.

"Because, if you eat the Fruit in which he commanded you not to, your eyes will be opened for what the world is. You'll understand right from wrong. You will be like him," the snake whispered, his forked tongue flicking with every sentence. "If God truly loved you, he wouldn't keep all this knowledge to himself."

Aemond could see the defiance slowly leave your expression, considering what he declared the truth. "He'll never know, little lamb. I shall never tell him. You have my word." He knew you needed one more push, the correct phrases to convince you to commit the only sin you could. "You deserve to understand. You deserve to be free from the self-sacrificing chains that bind you."

Aemond moved his scaly body from yours, sliding within the knee-high grass and into the Tree. He bit into the flesh of the Fruit as he turned to your uncertain form. He swallowed the chunk into his throat, the juice sliding down his fangs as his amber eyes stared into your wide ones.

Trepidation began to leave your mind, taking a tentative step forward as you saw that the serpent did not perish. The snake took another bite, wrapping its veridian tail around a winding branch, holding the piece out, wordlessly telling you to have a taste. You inhaled a shaky breath, an emotion you had never experienced before warming your gut and the place betwixt your thighs as you leaned, taking the golden fruit from it with your teeth.

The sweet flavor washed over your tongue, some juice dribbling past your lips and sliding down your chin as your eyes shut. You felt your mind become free, a moan breaking from the confines of your chest. Opening your eyes, the Fruit slid down your throat and settled into your stomach as you gazed at the world around you.

Suddenly, you understood everything.

Why water fell from the sky, why the grass grew, why the day always followed the night, why God told you never to eat the Fruit. You did not become his omnipotent equal as the serpent claimed. You became knowledgeable. You could comprehend the vast questions of the universe that the only answer you were told was God. You now had the free will to choose what you thought and what you did. You could decide who and what you worshiped.

God could no longer control you, so he forbade you from eating the Fruits on the Tree of Knowledge.

The snake was no longer in its place; instead stood a man with features not of this world. He adorned a crown of silver longer than your own, a pale stomach chiseled and defined with muscles and scars, a light dusting of hair trailing down to where his manhood was covered with weaved fig leaves. A long, pink scar sliced the left side of his face, the socket in which his eye should be a bright blue sapphire gem complimenting the near obsidian of the other.

Abruptly, you realized you were naked in front of an unknown man, quickly covering your breasts with your arms as he only observed.

"Who-" you stuttered, warmth filling your cheeks, "who are you?"

The man smirked, the grin pulling at his cheeks in a malicious, knowing manner that sent chills down your spine. "He never told you, did he?" the man questioned with the proud quirk of his brow, stepping closer to your trembling form. "I am called many names, sweet lamb. Satan, Lucifer, Devil, the Morning Star, Beelzebub, Mephistopheles, Iblis, the Father of Lies, and much more, but you," he answered, his now single tongue licking his white teeth, "may call me Aemond."

Your lungs shuttered, legs threatening to give out as he stood nearly a hair's breadth away. You extended an arm out, preventing him from coming closer, palm touching the smooth planes of his abdomen as you cowered under his dark gaze.

"Please, do not come any closer. I am ashamed," you implored, voice quivering as tears collected at the brim of your lashes.

"What for, little lamb? Are you now feeling the shame of having disobeyed your God, now knowing he will never love you again?" You tasted the briny water on your tongue before you felt them, whimpering and flinching as Aemond brought his thumb to your cheek, stroking the tears that clumped your lashes. "I shall love you, Eve, more than your God ever could."

A scream scratched your throat as Satan's hands grabbed your waist, fingers digging into the soft skin until you were sure they would burrow through, your bare breasts touching his sculpted chest.

"You-you tricked me!" you sobbed, head moving far away from him as he licked a stripe of saltwater on your temple, groaning at the erotic taste.

"Tricked you?" he guffawed, snatching your hair. "No, sweet lamb, I saved you."

"No! No! You said I would be as God! You lied to me!" Words poured from your lips like the tears from your eyes, choking you with their excess wetness. How could you have been so foolish as to believe a talking snake? The Lord was above all and only cared for you. He provided all that you needed, yet you still gave into temptation.

"Is it power that you desire, my ignorant lamb?" he questioned, a smirk pulling at his thin, pink lips. "Do not fret, for I shall give you all that you desire and more."

Aemond's mouth slotted with yours, spearing his tongue into the wetness and exploring the soft flesh your lips kept hidden. You struggled against him in vain, nails clawing at his chest and face until they left red welts on his porcelain skin. He merely chuckled against you, grinning into the kiss as his knee made it home between your legs. You vehemently shook your skull, attempting to break from his vice-like grip on your hair.

You now understood where this was going as Aemond released you with a sickening pop only when he decided you had enough.

"Stop. I do not want this," you protested, pulling your face away from his against the force of his hand.

"But, dear Eve, you are positively wet down there. It would be a sin to leave it untouched." You could sense Aemond's grin against your skin, his lips trailing down your jaw and onto the sensitive skin of your neck, inhaling the aromatic scent of your flesh.

It had been millennia since he last had the taste of sex. He spent all that time either within the solitude of his own making or that of his fellow fallen angels. He knew that those times would not be as fulfilling as now, and a part of Aemond, deep within himself, understood that he would never wish to live without it again.

He left damp patches in his wake, unceasing in his movements until he reached the tender globe of your breast, wrapping his lips around the pert nipple and suckling like a child. The jolt of pleasure that wracked through your body was paralyzing, causing you to momentarily drop your defenses as he forced you into the tall grass below. Aemond's body weight trapped you under him, feeling every ridge and curve of his body on your own. His manhood poked at your thigh, thumping in time to the beat of your erratic heart.

"Please, have mercy on me," you cried into the heavens, hearing nothing but Satan's heavy breathing on your bosom as he moved to the other, fingers snaking down to toy at the place between your legs. "Do not touch me there! That is a place for my husband only!"

Aemond grunted, the sound vibrating your chest as he unlatched with a half-lidded expression. "And who told you that, little lamb? Your God? The same God who kept you from all the world has to offer?"

You couldn't deny his words, gazing away from the beast before you. Aemond's arms wound themselves around your legs, keeping you at his mercy as he brought your womanhood onto his watering mouth. You shuddered uncontrollably with every lick he placed onto your throbbing core, unable to silence the high-pitched mewls that escaped your throat at the actions.

His tongue was so warm and soft, involuntarily making your muscles relax in his embrace as he lapped at your folds, moldable lips curling around the bud at the top to lav it in particular attention. It felt so good you could not help but buck your hips into him, curling your digits into his hair and back arching as the wet muscle slid into your entrance. Aemond's tongue caressed your insides with the tenderness of a butterfly's kiss, stroking along a rough patch that had you seeing the stars above.

You were unsure of what came over you. The only thought in your mind and nerves being more, more, more as your movements became greedy. You ground your womanhood onto his face and shoved his nose further into you, the bridge of it providing delicious friction onto your bud. You did not care if he could breathe. It felt like a beast had possessed you, puppeteering your movements with only one goal.

Release.

You grew impervious if God or Adam heard your cries of pleasure, knowing only of the Devil betwixt your thighs that now suckled your bud as if it were your breast, causing your heels to dig into the soft soil. At this moment, you did not regret taking a bite from the Forbidden Fruit. It brought you the knowledge of ecstasy you had no idea existed. If all sins brought you the promise of this pleasure, then you would gladly and unthinkingly commit them.

A fist formed within your stomach, tensing your gut as Aemond opened his jaw wider to incorporate all of your meat into his mouth, swallowing your juices as he did to the Fruit.

He knew he had you hooked, his cock thudding painfully with arousal as he rutted in the dirt. This was just as gratifying for him as it was for you. Not only did he have the satisfaction of corrupting God's favorite in the Garden of his creation, but he also had her begging and wanton within the palm of his hand, ripe for the taking. Aemond understood there was only one last thing he must do before he could finally destroy God's most precious creation.

He knew you were close. You only needed one more push, as you did before, to finally fall off the edge so you could become his in sin. He doubled his efforts, slurping obscenely at your puffy cunt until it nearly drowned out your moans.

You couldn't breathe, your breath coming out in pants as your legs clamped down on Aemond's perfect silver head, shrieking into the skies as you felt your first peak crash into you. Wave after wave hit your body as never before, tears leaking onto your temples as your back arched in ecstasy. It felt like honey had been poured into your veins, leaking onto Aemond's face as you spasmed around him.

His thumbs delicately stroked the skin of your thighs as you became lax against him, body trembling. A smirk wound its way onto his lips as he let you go, licking your release from his lips as he eyed your drooling cunt. It was simply begging to be filled, the hole weeping for him to enter as he situated his legs under yours, settling on his haunches and tearing the fig leaves from his groin.

You were too blissed out to comprehend the happenings around you, head lulled to the side and eyes shut as he parted your glistening folds with his thumbs. Finally, you looked down at Aemond's ruddy cockhead kissing your entrance. Long-forgotten fear suddenly filled your chest, replacing the pleasure you had found before.

You did not want him to take you. While you had gone against your husband and God with his mouth on your flesh, you did not desire for your virtue to be stolen by him. It was still Adam's right to do so, and you quickly squirmed beneath him, attempting to slide your back along the flattened grass. Aemond grunted in admonishment, pulling your hips back to his own as he locked them around his waist.

"You run from me still," he stated more than asked with a curious tilt of his head. If you had not known better, you would've sensed the slight hurt laced under the bass of his voice. "There is nowhere for you to go, sweet Eve. Your God will not possibly love you after what you have committed here."

Tears, not from pleasure, welled in your eyes as you stared up at him. His face was impassive, concentrating on lining his cock with your virginal hole. When Aemond finally breached the tight entrance, your cries were heard in the heavens, causing the unseen eyes of God to search for you.

It hurt, impossibly so, and the pain did not stay within the assaulted area, traveling through your walls and down to the tips of your toes. You sobbed uncontrollably, vision blurred from agony and tears as he tore through you to the hilt.

"Oh, God, please," you blubbered, unable to withhold your sobs of torment any longer. "Please, have mercy, I beg of you."

"Does it hurt?" Aemond asked saccharine, disregarding your pain with a mock tenderness in his tone. You nodded, weakly pushing at his pelvis as another stretch of pain speared you. "Do not worry. It shall only last for a moment. It will be nothing compared to the hundreds I have spent locked away within the depths of Hell, cast out as no longer one of God's favorites."

You whimpered, tears leaking from your eyes and muddying the ground below. You felt a dampness between your legs, different from the previous sensation, and trained your gaze onto Aemond's manhood. Blood covered his shaft and porcelain thighs, smearing the viscous liquid across his pelvis and staining the light dusting of hair there red.

Aemond wanted this to be painful for you-wanted you to feel every ounce of heart-wrenching agony he felt when his Father cast him out of the heavens. It was the closest he could get to hurting the one he desired.

"Please, stop," you choked, attempting in vain to free yourself once more. "It's too much. I-I cannot take it." You felt your head become full, a disorientating wave rolling through your mind as your vision darkened.

Aemond did not let you stay in that unfeeling state for long, moving his digits to rub circles over your swollen bud and sparking your body back to life with a drawn-out whine. He could not have you unconscious for this. He wanted you to feel everything-every shiver that ran up your spine, every touch of his skin on yours, every begrudging clench of your suffocating walls around his girth as he rutted into you.

Soon, that familiar tingle within your stomach began to grow, causing a wet clicking sound to emanate from your womanhood and a creamy, white ring to form around the base of his cock. The shame mixed with slowly rising high fogged your brain, unable to focus on anything other than the moist slap, slap, slap of Aemond's hips against yours.

You could no longer stand the sight of his sculpted body above yours, sun rays shining behind his silver hair in a juxtaposing halo as you turned your vision to the swaying blades of grass beside you. He cooed tenderly at your disgrace, bow lips forming a mock pout and grabbing your jaw to return your misty eyes to his.

"So pretty. Prettier than me," Aemond murmured to himself rather than you, cheeks squished underneath the pressure of his digits. "God did well with you, I am loathed to confess."

You struggled to remove your face from his grip, his fingers digging in meanly in response to your resistance as pleasure mounted with every kiss of his head to your sweet spot. Hiccuping in time with his thrusts, you sobbed, eyes rolling into their sockets as Aemond continued to swirl your abused nub until more wetness was released from inside.

"Poor thing," he purred, an uneasy grin wrinkling the blushed scar on his face. "Sweet little lamb, there is no use resisting the evils of this world. Give in to me once more, and you shall be free from all that ails you. Free from a God who does not love you... not like I can."

You tried to deny his words, refuting his claims internally with a shake of your head. God's love was unyielding; it was more bountiful than the fruits and vegetables in the Garden of Eden. Satan could not possibly love you more than him-accept you more than your creator did. He was a liar. Aemond was a snake. He deceived you once before, and he was doing it again.

Only God could love you unconditionally for who you were, sins and all. You trusted that he would see your innocence in all this and allow you a chance of forgiveness. He would absolve you of your transgressions here today, for he was a benevolent being who understood you were the victim of Satan's trickery.

That was the only fact in which consoled you enough for your walls to finally release, gushing your second peak all over Aemond's glistening, scarlet cock. It enveloped you in rapture, causing you to shriek and uncontrollably quiver as it ran through your bones like the stampede of wild horses that frolicked in the Garden.

Aemond sang your praises from above, reminding you of the hymns the angels recited as his movements became rougher, more frantic as if to chase something. It prolonged your high just that much longer, and you were powerless to hold still with the animalistic positioning of his hips, both fists burrowing into your waist as his strength rubbed your back raw on the flattened foliage.

Aemond came with a shuddering growl, thrusting into you to extend his peak to the fullest. "Yes, take it. Fucking take my seed and give me my army like the good little lamb you are."

Your limbs twitched as the aftershocks of your release wore through you, his words lost on your ears. Mind numb and form pliant his movements slowed, noiseless groans rumbling the hollow of Aemond's chest. He had not felt this fulfilled since the day he was constructed, observing the pearly liquid leak from your overfilled cunt as he parted your folds with his thumbs.

You indeed were a sight to behold, and although he abhorred the notion, he believed you were God's most extraordinary conception, above even that of himself. His pride would never allow him to admit such a thing aloud, and he was content with the idea that no one but himself would ever know of it.

Aemond pulled out of your abused heat with a squelch and a quiet whimper from you, observing his seed as it ran to the ground below. He had planted in more ways than one and was content with the thought as he slipped into the shadows of his serpentine form. Still there as before, always watching yet unseen with a grin crinkling the corners of his vision.

His exit went unnoticed by you, too blissed to realize he had abandoned you despite your fragile state. Your chest heaved as you regained your breath, wiping away the sweat at the back of your brow as you slowly return your gaze to between your legs, finally understanding that Aemond was no longer within your presence. It caused a sinking feeling at the pit of your stomach, a frown adorning your once glowing features as you looked to the uninhabited Garden, confusion furrowing your brow.

Why had Aemond abandoned you? Had you done something wrong?

You could not help the feeling of loneliness that crept up your body, caging you within its dark claws. Releasing a shuddering breath, you sniffled, steeling your will as you attempted to stand, seeking the physical and spiritual comfort that only Adam and God could provide. A sharp, burning sensation radiated from your womanhood and caused you to crumble to your knees. You did not withhold your tears as they stung your eyes, wincing in great pain as you tried to stand once more, only to fail.

The sound of the softly crunching grass perked your ears, revealing that you were soon not alone. Hastily, you hid behind a tree, its tall trunk obscuring your naked body from the visitor.

"Where are you?" the voice of God called out, searching for his beloved creation. You swallowed the lump in your throat, mouth becoming dry as anxiety cinched your heart.

The air no longer held its same warmth, filling you with unease.

"Here, my Lord," you answered shakily, voice softer than the breeze that swept through your locks as you poked your head from behind the tree.

"Why are you hiding?" he asked kindly, and with no hint that he knew what you had done, the smell of incense wafting into your nose.

"I heard you in the Garden, and I was afraid because I was naked," you responded demurely, eye focused on the ground below, "so I hid."

God's silence scared you enough to bring your tearful gaze to his, body shrinking into itself as he observed you. "Who told you that you were naked? Have you ate from the Tree in which I commanded you not to?"

You did not answer him right away, inhaling a shaky breath of aromatic wind as you hugged your arms closer to your body. Shame filled you to your core, having lost the confidence in God's forgiveness now that you were met face to face.

"The serpent deceived me, and I ate," you cried, falling at his bare feet in humiliation. "I fell into temptation and disobeyed your command. Please, forgive me, Father, for I have sinned in the only way you told me not to!" you begged, hands clasped into a fist, uncaring of your bare form before his eyes.

God no longer looked at you with the same love and adoration as you were accustomed to, eyes now filled with fury and hate you never knew him capable of. He turned away from you, vision trained on something within the lush, knee-high grass you could not see.

"Because you have done this, cursed are you above all livestock and all wild animals! You will crawl on your belly, and you will eat dust all the days of your life!" he raged at the emerald serpent, who only stared at him with unblinking, slanted, amber eyes.

So Aemond had not abandoned you, you realized fleetingly, a flame of hope and gratitude flickering in your chest before God turned to you again.

"I will make your pains in childbearing very severe; with painful labor, you will give birth to children. Adam shall not receive the punishment I bestow upon you, and your desire will be for your husband, who will rule over you," he seethed, index finger pointing accusingly. "Cursed is the ground because of you! Through painful toil, you will eat food from it all the days of your life. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your brow, you will consume your food until you return to the ground since you were taken from it!"

You wailed, helplessly so, crumbling on your knees before God as you prayed the forgiveness he claimed his love rought but received none. "For dust you are, and to dust you will return," he declared, a roar of thunder clapping through the sky despite the blue of it as he vanished as quickly as he came.

You collapsed on all fours, digging your fingers into the soil, sod sticking under your nails as you sobbed. Cries of despair shook your body, clawing your throat raw as your tears watered the grass below.

God had abandoned you when you needed him most. He scorned you as blood stained your thighs and bruises littered your skin. You felt hopeless-helpless in your isolation that combined with bitterness in your broken heart.

What kind of God disregarded those who worshiped the ground he walked on? You devoted your existence to glorifying him, you put your undying trust into him, and when you needed him most, he punished you. This was his fault.

You confided your troubles to the Father, who dismissed you, blaming you for your plights and saying that the only solution would be sacrificing more of yourself until nothing was left. And you listened ignorantly. You followed the shepherd God like the lamb Satan claimed you to be, and this is where he left you. Alone with only the sounds of chirping birds and crickets with the scent of mud clinging to your flesh.

Fury scratched its way out of your soul as you screamed, pounding your fists again and again and again into the dampened sod until you left impactions in your wake. You mourned for the loss of the life you once knew, now replaced with hardship and permanent subservience to your already king husband.

You hated Adam for dismissing you. You hated God for condemning you. An inferno of emotions you had never felt burned at your insides, charring them until nothing was left but blackened rot.

You felt the familiar smooth scales of a snake wind itself across your torso in an almost comforting manner, slithering down your arm and raising gooseflesh before you quickly snatched it by the hinge of its jaw.

You stared into the tan color of its iris, your tears drying and cracking your cheeks. "I should kill you," you spat, meanly pinching the vertebrae behind the serpent's glimmering green head.

"Do it, little lamb. Kill me," he hissed, a challenging gleam in his beady stare. He knew you could not do it just as you did, but it did not quell the anger in your heart.

You glared at Aemond in rage, eyes puffy and red as your chin trembled. The idea ran through your head as if it happened before you, smashing his small arrow-shaped skull with a stone until his bones and brains were mush. It gave you great joy to imagine, envisioning the smell of his coppery blood as it stained the ground as your tears did, yet you did not move. You stared at Aemond, teeth clenched as you observed the rosey flicking of his forked tongue.

"Show yourself to me," you declared, placing his slender body on the ground as your brows set in a firm line.

Slowly, before your eyes, you no longer saw a serpent but a man. The same man who stole your virtue and surrendered you to ensure the wrath of God alone, kneeling in front of you.

"You left me." The words weighed on your tongue like rocks, not fully admitting what you wanted to say due to your pride.

Aemond's gaze flicked over your naked form, taking note of the welts and essence he left behind. "I did," he replied, voice impassive.

You let the silence hang, ire still evident in your expressions as you observed his stoic face. What would ending his life do? While it would give you great pleasure to seek revenge on someone, it would not change God's decision or your fate. It would not make Adam see you as an equal and not a being less than him.

As if Aemond could sense your inner turmoil, he took your shaking hand in his, steadying it with a gentleness you did not know him capable of. It startled you, causing you to flinch, but he held firm. Was this the true Aemond or another side of him? Was he as wicked and cruel as he was when he stole your virtue, or was that simply a response to the same abandonment he felt from the Lord?

Suddenly, you understood him. You were both creatures victim of a callus and vengeful God who only found love in blind obedience-a God who did not want his ultimate authority ever brought into question. He did not like those who did not follow him in unthinking faith. He wanted lambs, not autonomous beings with thoughts and ideals. He desired those who would serve him and his teachings without question, no matter the harm it would do.

You would serve no God or man but yourself.

Swiftly, you shoved Aemond onto his back with a thud, straddling his waist as you pinned his wrists beside his fanned-out silver hair. You gazed into his eyes, a completely black obsidian orb and an expressionless sapphire one staring back, searching for something as you leaned over his sculpted face, your breath fanning across his skin. Slotting your nose with his, you felt a surge of possession overcome you, poking your moist tongue from between your lips and licking a stripe up the raised flesh of his scar.

Aemond shuddered beneath you, his hardening cock stirring to life between your folds. It felt empowering to know that you affected him as much as he did you, and a smile graced your wet mouth at the realization. You removed yourself from him, observing the way his glistening chest heaved, gradually forming a blush to the pale flesh from the heat of your body.

The dried blood and spent coating your thighs flaked annoyingly on your skin, sticking onto Aemond's hips in brittle chunks as a smirk adorned your features. "You ought to clean me up after what you did," you jeered, sliding your palms down his arms. "It is disgraceful to leave the woman you fucked in such a disheveled state."

Aemond watched you in what only could be described as wonder as you brought your womanhood to hover over his visage, hands now digging into your plush waist. His mouth watered at the sight before him, the blood coating your groin, his seed still weeping from your entrance. He was proud to have left his mark on your perfect body, spoiling you against God.

Oh, how you had changed from the sweet, innocent, unknowing little lamb he met you as...

You arched a quizzical brow, lips in a thin line as you waited for Aemond to stop his ogling and give what you asked. "Go on," you urged with the tilt of your head, voice holding a coldness you had never heard.

Aemond did not hesitate, bringing your core to his mouth as warmth spread throughout your body. He followed your commands earnestly, eagerly cleaning the mess as that familiar pleasure sprouted. You had not realized there was a tenseness to your muscles until his tongue forced you to relax, laving the crust of his seed and your essence around your cunt.

The sheer dominance at having the Devil himself betwixt your legs was intoxicating, releasing guttural, wanton moans as his aquiline nose brushed against your throbbing bud. Aemond let out a contented sound at the salty and coppery taste sliding down his throat, believing he had never had such a divine essence in his mouth until now.

"You are God's most vile creation, tricking and tempting innocents into your desires," you snarled, undulating your hips across his mouth. "Now, it is time for me to treat you the same."

You could see your blood staining the area around his mouth and nose, creating the most beautiful, debauched shade of scarlet on his skin as he focused his efforts on the button at the top of your mound. Uncaring whether Aemond could breathe, you dug your fingers into his hair, pulling at the roots as your legs tightened around his head.

He began to lap at your entrance, his spit stinging the raw skin and creating a delicious burn of pain and pleasure as he stroked the rough patch between your walls. You were in control, the vicelike grip around Aemond's skull giving him no choice but to bring you the ecstasy, the thought setting your nerves a light. It filled you with more satisfaction than when he was there previously, having him at your mercy. You were his God now. He worshiped your cunt as you did the Lord every moment of your life.

Removing your fingers from Ameond's hair, you intertwined them with yours, guiding them to your neglected breasts as you continued to grind against his face. He pinched and flicked your nipples taught, sending jolts of bliss through your veins and straight to your aching cunt.

The musky scent of sweat and bodies hung in the once-floral environment, infecting the air with your shared sins. Aemond's darkness infiltrated your head, the toxic sludge poisoning your mind further into wanting things only the most despicable creatures desired. You hoped for Adam to happen upon you both, to see what he was missing under God's thumb, to have him realize that you were not less than simply because the Lord told him so.

The same knot as before wound inside your stomach, your body trembling and tensing all over as Aemond's fists left your soft breasts and landed on your hips, pushing your core further onto his mouth. Your muscles went slack at the intensity of his movements, leaning back and balancing your weight on your palms on both sides of him.

Aemond's cock flickered at the edge of your vision, a ruddy and almost angry-looking head weeping a pearlescent liquid. You had not seen his cock in its full glory until now, bluish veins running along the underside of his long, flesh-colored shaft as it twitched with every flick of his tongue.

The sight made your mouth water, wishing to take him as he did you, but could not from this angle. You instead held a shaking arm out, grasping his member in your delicate hand. Aemond's hips bucked in response, surprise covering his chiseled, angelic features, focus unfaltering. You pumped him experimentally a few times, observing which strokes and squeezes made his toes curl and legs bend.

You eventually discovered a pace and grip that had him moaning into your core, sending a gratifying vibration through you, watching as Aemond's slit leaked more milky liquid, nearly disappearing under the blanket of his blushed foreskin. His ministrations plucked at the knotted threads one by one, leading you closer and closer to your release before you stopped yourself short, lungs stuttering at the loss of ecstasy.

Hastily, you removed your cunt from his mouth, his lips and tongue chasing after it in want. You smiled at the slight frown on his glistening lips, placing your womanhood on the throbbing heat of his cock and leisurely grinding your hips against him. Aemond groaned throatily into himself, attempting to stifle it with a thrust, palms finding themselves back on your waist to assist.

"Put it in you," he demanded, voice hoarse as his hips rolled with yours. While he wanted to give you the lead, he could only take so much, perspiration dampening his brow and testing his patience.

You ceased your movements, roughly snatching his cock in a brutal ironclad grip and gracing a reprimanding slap to his cheek as punishment for his demands. "You shall not command me," you growled, harshly stroking the smooth flesh until he hissed in discomfort. "No longer shall I wait hand and foot on men or follow those in blind faith. I will serve only myself for I am my own creation."

Aemond could not hide his lopsided smirk at your words, pride filling his chest. His plans had come to fruition. He caused God's favorite daughter to go astray and see him for what he was. Finally, another being in the vast cosmos understood his pain. It bound you to him, a realization you were gradually accepting.

"I am the neglected child that burns the village down to feel its warmth. I will spurn God and all men he creates," you hissed, positioning your hips above his cock with agonizingly slow movement.

Yes, Aemond thought. Yes, yes, yes, succumb to your dark desires.

"I will sow the seed of doubt and sin with the fruits of my labors. My children will infect their minds and bodies, inspire animosity and harm to others. They shall start wars and believe in gods that are not true," you declared, the heat of your rage warming Aemond's cold heart.

You slid him inside, your walls choking his cock with a profound sigh. He stretched you deliciously, the hurt a welcomed feeling as his head reached so far inside you felt as if it kissed your womb. You began to slowly work yourself atop him, still unaccustomed to the feeling and letting out noiseless mewls of satisfaction. Aemond's cockhead rubbed at your sweet spot with every undulation, sending webs of pleasure to stick to your bones.

Control was intoxicating, watching Aemond puff and struggle to accept that he was beneath you, helpless but to take the same pleasure he forced on you. You understand now why God kept you from the Tree. No one should have this much authority.

"No longer am I the sheep but now the wolf that kills the herd and the shepherd," you express with a prolonged breath.

Aemond sighed and nodded his head briskly, agreeing to whatever you said so long as you kept him inside your warm cunt. You continued to grind yourself against him; the combination of satisfaction within your body and on the out sent a new wave of slickness from your core. Your bud tantalizingly rubbed the firm muscle of Aemond's pubic mound, the hairs adding a different texture that spread a great heat underneath your skin.

"I will supply you an army of my blood and your seed. We shall wreak vengeance on God. He will know the pain he has caused ten-fold," you gasped, moving yourself up and down with the muscles of your abdomen and thighs.

Aemond wished for you to go slower, yet faster. The sensation of just laying there, taking it, unable to regain control he had grappled with all his life, was mind-numbing. Your words kindled the flames that licked his gut. The idea of you creating life with your flesh, the unspoken sacrifice of excruciating agony you would willingly put yours through, made him combust, his hot seed sprouting and planting into your walls at an embarrassing speed.

You grinned at the feeling of his spend taking home inside you, having only been riding him for mere moments before he came. It stoked your ego, inflating it into a size that rivaled Aemond's as he whimpered below you, curling into himself. You refused to stop despite his pleas of overstimulation. You had not reached your fulfillment yet, and you had no intention of halting it.

Men like him deserved to suffer, albeit pleasurably. If Aemond meant what he said when he convinced you to eat the Fruit, that you would have the power you subconsciously craved, this would be a consequence. You would push him to the brink of painful ecstasy to ensure your end, as he certainly would for you. It was equality, after all.

"Does it hurt?" you cooed, repeating his words as you leaned over his heaving body, continuing your ministrations. "Now you know how it feels to be so helpless to your body, to the pleasures of the flesh one can give you."

Aemond understood with the voice in the back of his mind that he could easily overwhelm you. Your physical strengths were no match for him, but he wanted you to have a taste of the power beings like him and God possessed.

You stroked the delicate skin of Aemond's visage tenderly, contrasting the intricate movements of your hips as you greedily chased your high. You were smashing your lips against his, creating a mess of teeth and moans as you led his hand down to the apex of your thighs, wordlessly commanding him. Aemond bucked and twitched, unable to control himself as he felt another agonizing release crest at his lower back. If Aemond wanted this torture to be over, he would have to earn it.

Your ethereal glow had vanished, no doubt as punishment for your disobedience, but he did not believe it affected your beauty. You were divine in Aemond's eyes, not only in appearance but in representation. The Lord could create things out of dust, but you, you could make things out of your essence. While God still could raise his creations with love and dominance, they could always reject their Father, for they were made from nothing, but your children could not escape you, their mother's blood. This was a power God would never possess, a strength he had kept hidden from you until Aemond opened your eyes.

You forced his fingers to draw firm, sloppy circles around your swollen bud, groaning as a shudder wracked your body, your release winding right in your stomach. Finally, you removed your mouth from Aemond's, sucking in a ragged breath of air. You felt your peak rising with every swipe of Aemond's digits and every tremble of your legs, chest heaving and sweat dripping down your sternum. Eventually, Aemond's overstimulation gave way to pleasure, helpless and near lightheaded as he attempted to chase the salty droplets on your breasts. He licked and sucked at your nipples, rolling them between his tongue and teeth with every groan.

Finally, you came with an Earth-shattering cry, your walls subconsciously milking Aemond for all his worth as his movements continued on your bud. You shivered and shuddered as your climax seized your muscles, lungs unable to inhale a grounding breath as each wave crashed into you and rattled your bones. He wanted to prolong your high, seeking gratification in your own until he busted, cock once again filling your womb with his seed. He whimpered underneath you, back arching and legs bowing, the sound like the sticky, saccharine honey you licked from your fingers for breakfast every morning.

Collapsing into Aemond's hard chest, you felt his spend leak from your cunt. You had never felt so complete, so unequivocally stuffed and sated, that you felt yourself drift into a plane of the unknown existence. Perhaps this was what heaven felt like? The thought rattled in your brain as you blinked leisurely, gaze fuzzy. Perhaps pleasure like this was what God wanted to protect you from, not autonomy and sentience. Maybe he knew that if you or Adam ate the Forbidden Fruit, your mind and body would be opened to vices of the flesh.

He believed that the Lord purposely kept you blind from this quality of yourself. It was partially the reason why he groomed you to think you were less than him and Adam, for if you knew the true power that was made into the very biological code of your being, you would understand that you and God were equal. There is no influence as powerful as a mother's, and even God could not deny that.

It did not matter now. What was done was done. God abandoned you and condemned you to a life of hardship, subservience, and mental and physical anguish. He left you without a care for your well-being, with blood between your legs and your innocence stolen.

Resentment reignited in your chest, pushing yourself off Aemond with a subdued grunt. He eyed you with a quirked brow, his seeing-eye now a prominent blue matching the sapphire that reflected the sun's rays in a caleidoscope of cerulean across your countenance.

You stood over Aemond's prone form, his arms winding behind his head as he gazed up at you quizzically. You could not help but admire his lithe form, body toned, the muscles of his arms and legs sculpted around his bones, tendons rippling as he stretched lazily. He was the most magnificently shaped being you had ever seen, and Aemond knew it, smirking beside himself as he watched your gaze drift to his softened member.

He suddenly seemed so much more human, the realization flicking a switch inside your mind. Aemond was an angel, yes, God's former morning star, but you did not see him above you anymore. He was no longer Lucifer, Satan, or Mephistopheles, the ruler of Hell, God's fallen attendant. To you, he was simply Aemond, a being that had titles that meant nothing now.

Yet you were no longer just Eve, for that name felt like the title of a dead woman, a woman who was blind, reedy, and ignorant to the reality of what the world had to offer, a woman who lived with blinders on her face until a serpent opened her mind. You would not thank Aemond for doing so. He did not do it out of the goodness of his heart. Just like now, how you vowed to repudiate God's will, you were a part of his plan, though you did not believe he thought it would end in this turn of events.

Aemond smiled above at you, his scar wrinkling as he raised his arm in your direction, an invitation to join him at his side. You stared at his offering with reservation, swallowing a lump you didn't realize had formed. You understood that this action was more than just an invitation to touch, your future weighing heavily in his palm. He was wordlessly giving you the option to turn away from the road ahead, to run back into the comfort of the known and away from the discomfort of the unknown. He placed before you autonomy and control of your fate, and it caused you to pause.

What would life be with the Devil at your side? Would he force you to become his servant as God did? You gave Aemond your body and womb, parts of you that you did not realize you could provide to others, and he used it to further his agenda. Yes, you were enraged that he treated you as a tool, but you knew you could do the same for him as quickly. If not for you, Aemond wouldn't have his army. He would still be stuck in the fire and brimstone below, fuming and plotting the perfect moment for his vengeance.

"I will be your equal, not your disciple." Your voice rang out through the Garden, now smooth and authoritative, reminding you of your vindictive God.

Aemond only smiled. He looked as if he was the one who resided on Earth, and you were the fallen angel, curling his toes and lengthening his torso as he adjusted atop the flattened grass.

"Did I imply you would not be?" he inquired with a raised, lightly colored brow.

You took Aemond's hand in yours, intertwining them together. He was surprisingly warm, tucking you into his side as a noiseless gasp escaped your lips, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist. The action sent a shudder down your spine, having never been in a purely soft, intimate position with a man, even Adam, as your body relaxed.

From your blood, you would create the demons of the world. The thoughts inside your fellow human heads that told them to steal that toy from your friend simply because you wanted it. You would never forgive God for what he did. Those who claimed to understand what was best for you-loved you did not punish you with pain and suffering for actions that were not your own.

Your eyes flitted across his toned abdomen, eyes drifting down his stomach and to his fleshy cock, pink and beating with life.

No longer would you be subservient to others; you would raise your children with loving yet gentle hands, allowing them to choose how they conducted their business and protecting them from those who sought harm. Your love would be unyielding and unending, unlike your so-called benevolent God, and then, he would finally see the depths of which the true devotion of love could bring.

Masterlist of Works

Thank you so much for reading, and make sure to leave a comment on what you think!

And now, back to our regularly scheduled fanfics...

May God have mercy on our souls.

[szlez]

Stay - destiel fanfic by ani_ona and me with my fanart Feverish

Written for https://sicktember.tumblr.com prompt. Dean & Cas

Stay

It was Sam, who noticed first. Knowing every muscle of his brother's face and years of studying every one of his tiniest expressions helped, but at the end of the day it was due to that unexplainable connection between the two of them. The strange force that made his time at Stanford less enjoyable and more sleepless. So now he just knows that something is wrong with his brother. And when Dean orders his beloved chili fries and doesn't suck in every last bit in a matter of minutes, Sam and Cas exchange worried looks.

Their case is solved, dinner finished, and they are in for a 9-hour drive home. Another cue that something is not just as it should be is when Dean decides to let Sam drive after an hour and doesn't take a shotgun seat but joins Castiel in the back instead. When Sam glances in the rear mirror, he sees his brother's head resting on the angel's shoulder and the intense stare of the blue eyes.

Dean doesn't wake up the whole ride home. Cas somehow manages to arrange him into a more lying position, with his head on the angel's lap. Sam would have smiled at the sight if he wasn't focused on keeping his eyes open and on the road.

They reach the bunker at dawn, and Dean lets Castiel maneuver him out of the car and down the stairs.

“Get him to his room,” Sam says, his voice hoarse from not using and tiredness. “And I’ll bring some supplies.” Cas just nods and adjusts his grip around Dean's waist. He is taking off the hunter's shoes, when Sam comes in with water and some pills.

“Looks like he is going down with something…” Cas murmurs, letting the back of his palm touch Dean's cheek. He frowns and crouches beside the bed to lightly press his lips to Dean's forehead. “Definitely. His fever is high.” He whispers, now real concern lacing his voice.

The gesture looks a lot like a kiss. Dean would undoubtedly freak out if he was awake. But now Sam is too tired to analyze it further.

“Make sure he drinks a lot. And takes these once he is conscious enough.” he points to the meds. “Want me to stay with you?”

“No, Sam, I got this, you drove the whole night, go get some sleep.”

Sam nods and leaves, though he feels strange. He's never left his brother's side during an illness. Even as a child, he used to cling to his brother when any of them was unwell. Perhaps it had something to do with losing the only source of safety and care. Now Dean has his angel, Sam tells himself, lowering his pounding head onto the pillow. He is out in a few minutes.

In the meantime, Castiel frees Dean of most of his clothing, careful with every movement, expecting the hunter to shove him away and yell. But he doesn't react more than with a quiet sigh, and feeling his skin radiating unnatural heat makes Castiel worry even more. He tries to wake Dean up, but only succeeds in making him swallow some pills without choking. When the fever is still high, regardless of the meds, Castiel's anxiety reaches a dangerous level bordering panic. What if he is doing something wrong? Or not doing enough? He stares at the pale face of his friend, thinking. Dean would know what to do. He always does. Dean dealt with countless of Sam's childhood illnesses, even more wounds requiring various types of stitches, his father's drunken fits and hangovers. But now it's Dean who needs help, and Cas feels uncertain and incompetent. Afraid that he could make things worse. What is he supposed to do? Should he go get Sam?

Dean stirs in his sleep, and Castiel's train of thoughts is interrupted. He focuses on his friend, whose brow frowns, and his whole body tenses under the covers. Hands grip the sheets tightly and suddenly he opens his eyes wide, staring terrified and unseeing through the ceiling, breathing shallow, quick breaths. What is he seeing, Cas can only guess, but he is afraid he can guess correctly.

“Hey… Easy…” Cas reaches for Dean's hand and feels fingers clutching his wrist like a lifeline. “Whatever you see, it's not real. You are safe here, with me. It's just a dream. It's not real.” Cas whispers over and over again until Dean rests his head on the pillow and falls asleep, not letting go of his angel’s hand.

So until he loosens his grip, Castiel has no other option but to sit down on the floor by the bed and try to make himself comfortable. He feels Dean’s quick pulse under his fingertips and watches an unhealthy blush coloring hunter's cheeks. After what feels like hours the idea pops into Cas’ mind, and he makes a quick run to the sink with a handful of handkerchiefs. As soon as the wet cloth touches hot skin, Dean shudders violently and makes a little sound close to whimper. Cas's heart tightens. He puts his hand on Dean's cheek to calm him down, and the hunter leans into the touch as if trying to find some relief. The angel sits on the bed and cradles Dean's head, wanting to absorb the heat, illness, and pain.

“You are going to be ok, I'll take care of you.” He whispers to the unconscious man and feels Dean's chaotic fear and suffering flooding him, leaving him breathless. He has to do something, anything, to help, and fast. The echo of Dean's headache pounding in his own skull.

Dean is drifting in and out of consciousness, never lucid enough to hold a real conversation, just searching the space with glassy eyes that close with relief once he makes sure Castiel is with him.

“You are not alone,” Castiel tells him, knowing very well that Dean won't remember anything. “You won't be anymore.”

Hours go by and Castiel fills his time with wiping Dean's face, trying to get some water into him, changing cold compresses, and constantly checking the temperature. With zero improvement so far. Why is nothing working?

Finally, Cas knows he can't delay it anymore and a decision has to be made now. It's been hours and they haven't made any progress. Dean is exhausted and completely out of it from pain and fever, and Cas can't look at his dry lips and glistering, unseeing eyes any longer. It's time to take serious steps.

Dean is heavy. The dead weight of his nearly unconscious body is hard to carry. But not for the angel, who lifts him with ease, just like all these years before when they were leaving Hell. Castiel carefully lowers his trembling burden into the tube, and Dean immediately curls into a tight ball, shivering uncontrollably. Cas starts the lukewarm water and strokes Dean’s chest and back,

“Easy… try to relax” he murmurs, enfolding the hunter's arms. “This is going to help, you will feel better soon, just relax.” And finally, Dean does. Once the tube is filled, he straightens his legs and seems to be drifting off again. He slides a little and would go under if it weren't for Castiel’s grip.

“I’ve got you,” the angel sighs softly. “Don't worry, just relax and rest” he whispers, gently rubbing his chest and stomach in a slow circular motion.

This could be so much fun in different circumstances, Castiel thinks to himself, taking in his lover’s slim, muscular figure under the clear surface… What is he thinking about?!, he scolds himself immediately. It's definitely not a good time for such things. He has to admit to himself that he appreciates the sight before his eyes, though. 

Returning to the bedroom is surprisingly difficult because Dean, now somewhat conscious and wrapped tightly in the biggest towel the bunker can offer, insists on going on his own. This proves to be not the best idea when after a few steps his legs fail to support him, and he is forced to accept Castiel's outstretched arm reluctantly. 

The angel doesn't speak much now when Dean is able to comprehend what is being said to him. Helping Dean change into fresh clothes, and passing him pills and a glass of water, Cas carefully observes his patient, not daring to think that the worst is over now. Once Dean dozes off again, his fever rises a few degrees but only to break after a few hours, leaving the hunter drenched in sweat, weak and tired but finally fully awake and aware of his surroundings.

Seeing Dean putting on his T-shirt without help convinces Cas that his job is finished. He stands up slowly, mutters some “I’d be going” and turns to leave. That's when his hand is gripped one more time this night.

Cas catches Dean’s gaze lucid at last and though the man doesn’t utter a sound, the angel can hear one word, clear as a bell: Stay.

[naok-iyuu]

Love is about details - Zed Necrodopolis x fem!reader

Summary : On a Halloween night, you meet a boy that will soon become your best friend. Until feelings get in the way.

word count : 8.2k

My masterlist ! No major warnings, just reader having an existential crisis mid fic and Zed being a golden retriever.

(Autor's note) : I AM FINALLY ALIIIVVEEE !!! I am soo lazy, I've struggled so much to finish this one. And even when I get ideas, I always end up with those blank page syndrome or with too much drafts on my account.

I hope this fanfic will be liked by some of you, I don't really know where I was going at some point but I couldn't bring myself to delete and do something else ahah. I wanted to do a small fic... Well it ended up with 8k words. ENJOY!!

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You never believed in love at first sight. Hell you even thought it was the most stupid thing the world ever created to entertain Terrians. Maybe you could be really attracted to someone at first sight, because ‘gorgeous’, surely, would be the first word coming to your mind while crossing path someone like Joshua Bassett. But to truly fell in love, you should be able to remember their eye color and describe it as something precious. Or so you thought.

Your first encounter with the boy you would fell in love with was on Halloween. Your friend group thought it would be funny to cross Seabrook’s border to enter Zombietown, something about showing each other that you weren’t chicken-hearted. A stupid teenage idea.

You weren’t interested in those things, but you followed your bestfriend who was a total lab nerd that would smash the Seabrook barrier to see a real zombie outside of your school. Natural habitat analysis thingy going on in her head.

It didn’t last long though, each and every person looked every two seconds behind them and jumped at every street common noise their hears caught.

They finally all went running back to the so called ‘normal side’ when a zombie, woman, screamed at them from the other side of the road. The sound as surprised you so much that your body frooze instantly. Your heart started beating even faster when the door near you suddenly oppened rapidly, making you jump and gasp.

Your eyes met one of a boy, it was easy enought to discern the surprised and concerned look on his face, his gaze looking strangly at you. You were disguised as a zombie for Halloween, well, the kind of zombie filmakers showed in their movies. Torn clothes, messy hair, pale skin with a lot of scars. Not really looking like the young zombie you had in front of you. Green hair styled with skills you surely did not have, grunge clothes, but a nice call on the pale skin.

"What are you doing here ?" His words came out skeptical, for what on earth would a human be on the wrong side of the wall. Well, there was Halloween of course, but nobody ever had the courage to come here.

He had caught on your dressing up, you were a convincing enought zombie for normal people, but not for a zombie apparently. He could admit that your make up was impressive, those scars looked real.

"Hm… Well with Halloween going on, my friends came to scare themself."

His eyebrows raised when you answered him. He was more prepared to receive a scream followed by one of the biggest sprint he’ll ever see. He looked from left to right, but found nothing other than his old, moldy town. "Seems like they got scared, right ?"

His conclusion got a chuckle out of your lips and you nodded your head, looking in the direction your friends took a run for their life. In the back of your mind, you thought about the fact they totally forgot to look out for you. They would be hearing about it for at least the next 10 years. "Yeah, they completely took a run for it."

Your eyes met his again, the situation was quite awkward. For him taking in the sight of a human in front of his house, and for you, who, for the love of the sky above, couldn’t even move to end this nightmare. "I should… Probably get going."

Your eyes lost their way on the scenery around, thinking that you should go home before everyone calls the police to get you out. Your parents would lose their head if they knew something had happened to you. You finally found in you the energy to move a foot when his hesitant voice stopped you.

"Can I ask for your name ?"

You turned around, returning to the spot you were so eager to leave. It took you a few seconds again to gather your thoughts. He wasn’t the one responsible for the fact you were right in front of his door, just stairs away from him. Maybe you were just disturbed by how calm you actually were. You were going to blame the Halloween effect on this one, green haired people weren’t that weird and scary compared to some costume people came up with.

"Huh yeah. I am Y/n." A breeze stopped your own question to let your name simmer in the air. The fact being that you were two people trying to get each other names after a weird encounter and not a girl and a zombie in that very moment felt like something you shouldn’t be allowed to do. Zombies were still hated by your people, they haven’t stopped talking trash about them even when they got welcomed in your school. Change must be scary for humans.

"And you ?" His own mouth went dry, maybe from the exact same fact you realised or from his father's voice hurrying him inside. His words got stuck for a time more, remembering his own name and yours.

"Zed. I am Zed Necrodopolis." He nodded to himself, at least he didn’t mispelled it nor hesitated too much. Zed was friendly to everyone, even when he started his first year at Seabrook high. Yet, having an intruder in Zombie Town had taken him aback, that was quite the shocker. He tried to remember if he ever saw you at school. No, he surely hasn’t… has he ?

A wave of your hand paused his thoughts. He waved goodbye back, looking at your silhouette. Once you were far enough and his father's voice loud enough, he came back inside his sweet little home.

Another idea occurred, did you even know where you were going ?

. . .

The few other encounters were less awkward.

After a good scare endured by your friends who thought you had been devoured by a thousand zombies, deserved. You had to go back to school, tossing aside your friend questions about how the zombie you talked to looked like, smelled like, dressed up like. You couldn’t remember a single thing, just a bunch of green hair that could be seen all around the school now. Or maybe, you just didn’t really want to talk about it.

You crossed paths with him, between classes and lunches. Both too hesitant to talk and too distracted by your talkative friends. You had waved, waved, and waved again at each other. He noticed how you would only use your right hand to greet him, and you acknowledged how dark colors were the ones that suited him most. Your wavery earned a gasp from your bestfriend and a side angry eye from the zombie girl following Zed around.

. . .

Grabbing the library table, your friend looked at you with the biggest eyes possible. "It was Zed Necrodopolis ?" Her voice whispered in disbelief.

She had finally noticed your wavering habits with the zombie after seeing him near the lockers on your way to the library, when you already had done it 10 times today.

You frowned, moving slightly your head like something would jump on you if you moved too much. "You know him ?"

She shook her head with her mouth open in shock, her eyes rolled back in her head. "He’s the one zombie who got into the football team ! Do you live under a rock ?"

"Since you forgot me back in Zombietown, yes. I feel much more secure." You slid your joke with a thin smile and a raise of your features to make your point and annoy her.

She breathed a quiet laugh in your direction with a smile. She was ready to get back at you when a voice interrupted her.

"Hi, sorry to disturb you both, can we sit here ?"

You two looked up from your conversation, locking your eyes with the ones you couldn’t escape even if you tried. Schools aren’t that big after all. Zed was standing here, a zombie girl clearly angry and a taller zombie boy with the biggest smile right next to him.

Your mouth oppened and closed a few times, your words hiding themself in the back of your throat instead of helping you in creating a sentence. You turned to your best friend and saw her eyes popped out of her face, her mouth wide open enough to swallow at least 3 whole families of flies. Her eyes stared in your direction, her face not moving an inche from her surprised and excited features. You didn’t need to ask for her permission, she would beg you to say yes. Slightly nervous, you faced Zed again who was waiting for you with a gentle smile.

"Yeah of course." You slided your chair closer to your wide eyed friend next to you to let the three zombies sit on the three available chair.

When they sat down, silence followed. Zed, who sat on your other side, looked at you with shy eyes. Something that cringed the girl with a messy bun. He discretly waved hello to you, a ritual that seemed to please him more than you could imagine. You waved back discretly, the tiniest ‘hi’ falling from your lips to greet him. His eyes quickly caught the color of your pencil case, f/c. Somehow, he felt like he could have guessed this as your favorite color.

A sigh caught everyone attention and the green haired girl crossed her arms. "Why are we even here ?"

Zed was quick to quiet down any fight he thought could happen due to his friend being grumpy and the two humans girls feeling hurt by her words. "To say Hi." He caught both your attention, introducing his friends. "This is Eliza, don’t mind her she is getting used to human, still. And this is my buddy Bonzo."

Bonzo smile grew even bigger, showing all of his teeth as he raised his hand to say what seemed to be a ‘hello’ or a ‘nice to meet you’ in zombie. Phrased by some ‘zogzigzargzog’, or maybe it was ‘zigzagzargzogzarg’, you couldn’t remember.

"What did he said ?!" Your friend high pitched voice surprised everyone, she was quick to react to Bonzo words. Her hand was nearly breaking her pen by squeazing it too much, her other hand flipping pages of a new notebook you had never seen.

"That’s Lucile. Sorry about her she just really loves zombies for some reasons..." You tried to ease their surprise by introducing your highly excited best friend who seemed to live her biggest dream.

"That’s completely fine." Surprisingly, his words gently eased your mind. Maybe handling both girls wouldn’t be that hard. "He said ‘pleasure to meet you both’. "

You heard her excited gasp before she started writing what she heard. How could she even remember what the other boy said ?

"I only wrote what I heard but could you check ?" Her question was more of an affirmation as she slided her notebook right into Zed’s hands, passing it in front of you. He was careful not to disturb your work while grabbing the book.

His dark orbs looked at you with an amused grin before asking for a pencil, which Lucile gladly and almost throwed at him in a hurry. Getting a scared ‘Jesus !’ from you. "You heard it right, but if I may, here’s the zombie way of writing it."

When he handed it back to her, you were sure she was going to explode on the spot. "You guys have a whole different alphabet to speak zombie ?!"

Zed seemed proud of her reaction, he was cute. You could see in the corner of your eyes Eliza slowly relaxing herself. Maybe she had been worried that you would be as mean as the cheerleaders when they first arrived.

"And twenty-three different ways to write the word ‘brain’. " His head nooded to her in affirmation.

"Oh my god this is awesome ! If you guys can teach me all about it somedays, I want to know everything !"

"We’ll be glad, right ?" He turned to his friends. Bonzo cheered with his usual bright smile while Eliza shrugged her shoulders, mumbling a 'why not'.

You smiled at them, happy that everyone seemed to get quite along for a first encounter. You felt like you didn’t know how to act around Zed, for a fact, you didn’t know each other except for those stolen hi’s after all. You could say that socializing wasn’t really something you were good at.

Zed seemed to notice your shyness, maybe he could help you by showing his friendly side. "Your friend seems great. She’s funny."

You looked up to see his brown eyes looking at you. For some reasons, you were sure that that one sunray directed right to his left eye was there on purpose. "Yeah, she’s the best."

Zed had made the first step toward you, hoping to see bloom a friendship between the fake zombie girl he had seen on his doorstep and himself.

Mainly thanks to Lucile and her inconditional love for zombies, she got the three of them to stay at your table for an hour.

. . .

Day after day, you were gradually seen hanging out with Zed and his crew along with Lucile more and more. Forming a lovely mixed group of five.

You opened up slowly, and conversation started to feel more natural once you knew each zombie better. You didn’t need Zed’s help anymore to feel comfortable, your questionable jokes already sliding in each and every sentence you could form.

Bonzo and Eliza seemed to like you both, even if you couldn’t communicate with the taller boy. You still found ways to understand him and he did the same. Eliza and Lucile both fell for their nerd side, not looking like total polar opposite anymore. Eliza being a zombie was Lucile fuel for knowledge and Lucile being always impressed by Eliza knowledge and technology made her feel understood.

Fast enought, without anyone questioning or noticing it, every single second you could spend glued to Zed became your mission number one every day. You had your routines, your habits, and somehow in the mist of it all, the jocks found his way to be your new and unique routine.

The same could be said for him. Even if Zed would never be ruled by any routines, having you and Lucile gang up with Eliza and Bonzo went from something nice to his essential. Even when the group couldn’t be together, the boy always found his way to you and you to him. He somehow quickly noticed your love for quiet places and books, which made it easier to find you. You were, too, quick to find Zed everytime you were looking for him. His loud voice and love for football were easy enough to spot in every room he could be in.

Free hours in school were spend in his company, lunches were eaten right next to him just so you could mock his choice of food, and you surprised yourself with even seeing him on weekends. Zombies had won freedom for their own actions, seeing your friends was now a piece of cake. You started with simple hang outs with everyone to going to Zed’s house, him to yours, and even to include ice cream rituals in town. You could never be thankful enough for those, especially for the coach's peanut butter n’ bones ice cream.

Your parents never saw you out of the house this often, you could even say that your mom had started to grow a soft spot for the green haired jock. Something you would have gladly erased from your memories if not for those family meal where his name seemed to always end up in.

. . .

That’s why you never believed in love at first sight. For you, you had to know the person, hang out with them and remember everything special about them. You could never have fallen in love by just seeing Zed for the first time next to his crusty door. You believed that love was about details. And this belief would be the one hitting you full speed right in the guts.

. . .

"How can you say that zombies have different eye colors ? They are all bloody brown !" Lucile hands fell on her thighs, smacking them in the process with exasperation.

Your best friend sitting on your bed had talked about her zombie knowledge again for the past twenty minutes, a knowledge you had started to be really interested in recently. She’ll never mention it, but it surprised her when you suddenly asked about their language, culture and even tradition.

You knew a bunch, thanks to your zombies buddies, but Lucile was a goldmine of information. If you wanted to know anything without sounding too weird or suspicious, you knew she was your best option.

Today’s new debate started when Lucile talked about physical differences between zombies, noticing how all hairs weren't exactly the same shade of green. However, she had maintained her statement about their eyes being only a very dark brown.

"No they are not. There are different shades too." You contradicted her again, looking at her notes and judging some of them as enormous lies, just the hater you were.

"Okay, give me an exemple." She moved her hand to invite you to elaborate your point of view, obviously curious to know why you were so reactive to this fact and not any other ones.

"It’s true that Bonzo and Eliza have dark eyes, but Zed doesn’t."

"Oh he does."

"No he does not." You looked at the ceiling, starting to feel frustrated. You let Lucile’s zombies notebook fall on your bed right in front of you both. You chewed your bottom lip before speaking again, your eyes looking at every detail of your room and not at your best friend, who’s gaze didn’t leave you for a second. "Zed’s… Well his eyes are slightly the same color as milk chocolate, only a little darker I'll give you that. And when the sun hits them, they glow with this orangy brown color… Like those pictures you find when typing ‘autumn forest’ on google. Seriously, it’s funny when you think about it."

You looked at your fingers, not giving more thoughts to what you just said. Lucile though, looked at you like you were talking crazy. Her famous wide open mouth and her frowned eyebrows couldn’t believe what she just heard. She knew what you thought about boys or romance, luckily her brain was quick to connect the dots. You always talked about details, for you, love should be remembering their eye color and describing it as something precious. You once told her.

She silenced her gasp, finally understanding why you changed so much recently and why zombies suddenly got your interest when you couldn’t care less before. She never gave second thoughts about your relation with Zed, you both were really good friends who liked to hang out often, if not every single day. (Weird ) And friends who, she thought, were glued by the hips like twins would. But maybe this closeness, at a point in time, crossed a line even you haven’t noticed.

"Pause Y/n, Pause." The sudden seriousness in her tone made you perk up from your nail analysis. You had never seen a face like that on her. It made you overthink the words you have just spoken, could you had said something wrong ?

"Did you heard yourself ?"

"W-What ?"

"I am not angry, nor frustrated, nor scolding you." She tried to easy your mind. "I am only asking, did you heard yourself ?"

"What ? That Zed’s eyes looks like dumb autumn forest pictures ?"

She nodded slowly, biting both her lips in a thin line. "Can you now remind me what you always said about remembering someone’s eyes color."

You felt as if your brain spun on itself and gave your whole body a warning sign while ringing simultaneously the biggest bell that could exist. You gasped loudly, your hands flying fast to cover your mouth. "You are shitting me."

"YOU are shitting me ! Since when ?"

You stood up from your bed, realization striking you. You felt the air becoming colder in your lungs with your heart beating crazier than when it’s an exam day. Your hands felt cold, than hot, than cold, than hot again. You looked back at Lucile who was just as surprised as you, just less freaked out.

"I don’t know ! Oh god it’s bad." You were starting to feel too freaked out by this new revelation. Luckily, the scent of your room and being a calm person on a daily basis helped you step out of your mind roller coaster faster.

"I mean, you always go out together. Maybe that made it harder to notice."

Another, but tiniest, gasp escaped you. "We have an ice cream thingy tomorrow." Lucile could hear tiny ‘it’s bad’ coming from you and ‘oh god’ ‘s.

"I never undertood that ritual, every week ? Ice cream ?"

"You’re right, I am calling in sick. " You were ready to grab your phone when she snatched it away.

"First, we are going to talk about this, analyze things and won’t freak out, okay ? It is not as bad as it looks."

"I am not that freaked out, and yes it is bad. Not falling for your, other, best friend is like an unbreakable rule."

"So you are in love with Zed ?"

"I absolutely did not say that."

The girl frowned again, even with your calm demeanor you stayed in a total denial mindset. You always loved romance, but it seemed like it wasn’t the thing you were expecting to crash into your life right now. Or maybe your weren’t expecting to fall for Zed. She stretched out her hand for you to take, encouraging you to come back on the bed. You sighed, taking it before sitting back on your bed, a light sadness building in your chest.

"Can we talk about zombies culture instead ?"

"If you want, but before we’re going to dig into that little heart attack moment you just had."

"It’s just… Like I said, we’ve been like best friends lately and I just feel like I am betraying him." Your eyes met hers, a sad expression painting your features. "It’s like I am asking too much out of him. We’re friends, and now feelings get in the way and I’ll start acting weird because now I am aware of it. And what if I get even more into my head and he just feels weirded out, rejects me of some sort. I still want to hang out with him."

"Wow you got the time to think about all of that in just a minute ?" Her sentence teared the tiniest chuckle out of your lips. Lucile squeezed your hand, trying to keep you grounded in any ways she could. "I think you should be kinder to yourself. It happens to fall for friends, even if it changes things, ultimately. It is not a bad thing."

"Why him though … ?" Your question was more of a frustrated and sulking sentence to show how surprised you were.

She laughed. "I should ask you girl !"

And you followed her laughter. Maybe you got ahead of yourself and got slightly carried away by the new realisation, just maybe. You talked a bit more with Lucile, and you were thankful for her patience and the way she understood your point of view. Even if she thought that Zed looked like a very green and moldy potato, which made you laugh. She even teased you by saying how your mom would be happy to hear the news, making you grunt another slight laugh.

You knew the boy for nearly a year now, blossoming feelings shouldn’t be surprising when you knew deep down how good he looked. Getting to know each other and your souls clicking together like you just lost a thousand years finding the person that could make you spit out your whole stomach laughing along with flipping your whole mood upside down with just a word should have been a warning sign. You had fallen in love with Zed Nerodopolis.

. . .

The next day went smoothly, even if you had to mentally scold yourself every now and then because you kept looking at Zed for no reasons. You tried to brush your new feelings off, acting like usual with maybe less confidence.

He noticed, and you hopped it was just once. "Do I have some ice cream left on my face ?" A finger pointed toward his face, he stared at you.

"Nop. Not at all."

"Oh, I thought. Since you can’t stop staring." You caught on his teasing tone, his smile already trying to get under your skin just so you would say something back to him.

Usually, you would have laughed and made fun of him for suspecting you of staring. But now, all his sentences and smirks did were increasing your heartbeat and wished that your cheeks haven’t turned a deeper shade of red.

. . .

The next week at school, you thought you were doing a good job at hiding anything your heart was begging to let out. You denied with force the fact you avoided your usual safe spots to study or read, knowing full well Zed would be waiting or searching for you there. You couldn’t avoid him everywhere and everytime though, you both were too familiar with each other schedule and you could tell the boy sensed something different coming from you.

Trouble knocked at your door when Eliza found you in a room you wouldn’t usually want to be, the cheerleaders rest room. Bree offered you this refuge when Bucky and his henchmen weren’t around, nobody ever spilled the beans and you were grateful for that.

The door opened with a certain force and hurry, making you jump on your sit. Eliza stared right into your soul and a long silence followed before her voice came out of her throat.

"What is going on ?"

"What ?"

"Please don’t play dumb with me." She closed the door behind her, guarding the entrance to prevent any escape tricks from you. "Zed’s been whining all day long because you are avoiding him."

"I am not, we just saw each other." Lying wasn’t your best ability but you still tried to convince her of your enormous lie.

"According to him, he haven’t seen you since lunch." Her eyes were big, and it felt like your mom was giving you a life lesson. With this eye contact, you knew she wouldn’t be fooled by you. You always spend the next hour with Zed because of your free period in common. And for some reason, you could tell everyone noticed your change in character, even if you had tried to minimize it. "And we both know that you’ve been very discret and absent lately." And here it goes, you were doomed. "I’ll ask again, what is going on ?"

You growned in frustration and embarassement. "I don’t want to talk about it..." Running a hand over your face, you closed your laptop tossing it in your bag.

You didn’t see Eliza concerned look. "Is it something serious ? About your family or did something bad happened ?"

You were grateful for her concern, it showed you once more that the girl you first met in the library was now one of your friends.

"No, no. Nothing major. Just something really troublesome for me."

"And it has to do with Zed ?"

"H-How do you even get there when asking for my family seconds ago ?" You blushed once more, wishing you would have wore a turtleneck sweater to hide your face.

"I promise I won’t tell him, I just think we could all help you if we had some idea of what’s happening." Even trapped in the room you would have thought of a good hiding place, you knew Eliza was telling the truth and genuinely wanted to help you. You were thankful for Lucile too who haven’t said anything. With all the time she spends with the zombie girl, you always wondered if she could have let it slipped up accidentally.

You sighed, fighting your own hesitation about telling the truth or denying your crush for the rest of your life. Maybe it was time to take a step forward and get some advice from someone who knew Zed for a long time.

"I like him." You were quick to pronounce those words, afraid they would run away from you and make you lose your courage.

Eliza surprised face chased away the words she was about to say, ‘yeah, we know.’ The look on your face showed her it wasn’t the type of like you used to feel month before.

"Oh, like… Love like ?"

"I know I shouldn’t."

"I did not said that."

You pursed your lips, averting your eyes from hers. Somehow, telling Zed’s long time best friend your feelings for him was as hard, not really, as telling him. You were scared of Eliza already knowing the boy opinion on the question and that her words would come and cut every string you had tightly knotted.

"You’ve realised it last week ?" Your head nodding to her words confirmed her suspicions. After all, you’ve started making yourself more discreet a week ago. "And why not telling him ?"

"We’re best friend ! It will ruin our friendship for sure."

"And if it does not ? Maybe he feels something for you too." She didn’t want to talk for Zed, but she knew him. Even without telling her a word of his feelings, she noticed how he cared and looked out for you. If he wasn’t even the tiniest bit in love… Well screw him.

"He does not."

It felt like talking you out of your thoughts was out of the question. "If you say so, but I am warning you, he is behind the door and ready to follow you for the rest of the day."

You chuckled, shaking your head at the image of Zed almost going crazy behind the door. "I am ready for it captain."

Eliza sighed desperately at your words while you stood up, opening the door to reveal a Zed who haven't heard a thing from your girl talk.

"Oh my god finally ! I was starting to think that I should add you on my Christmas wish list to see you again." The zombie girl nearly got the time to step out of the room when the boy charged in to stand himself right in front of you.

"So I am a Christmas present now ? I knew you wanted me." His rolling eyes and frustrated features won a giggle out of you. At least your feelings didn’t wipe out your sense of humor.

"On a serious note, is everything okay ? » His tone instantly made your amused smile drop, you could see the worry in his eyes and what your avoidance made him experience. You felt like a fool.

"Yes, I promise. I just had a lot on my mind recently, but now I realise, nothing worth putting my friends aside."

Eliza stayed out of view but heard your words, it made a sweet smile grew on her lips.

"Of course it wasn’t worth, should I remember you that we are the best ?" He waited for you to confirm his words and your shaking, amused head gave him just that.

"Yes, I am sorry. Come here stinky dork." Your circled his body with your arms right below his chest to encourage him into a hug.

He chuckled at your attitude, something he had missed over the past days. His own arms came around your shoulders to pull your head into his chest, ever so careful to never squeeze you too hard.

Eliza cough made him turn his head and your own tried to look at the girl by sticking out your head from his warm hug.

"Don’t forget about the zombie party tonight." She raised her eyebrow at her zombie fella.

"Of course I won’t." His smile and nod was her cue to leave.

"You guys are having a party in Zombietown ?"

His gaze came right back to you. "Yes, I was going to invite you."

"And what made you wait that long ? " Your quirked eyebrow painted his face with false surprise, tease floating all around in the air. You freed yourself from his grasp, crossing your arms on your chest.

"Huh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that I couldn’t find you around school anymore ?"

"I deserve that one. But you could have texted me."

"I am a gentleman. If I ask a girl out, I at least put the tiniest bit of effort."

"That is the tiniest bit of effort for sure. Where are the flowers and the knee on the ground to beg me to accompany you ?"

He shook his head and his right arm came back on your shoulder to bring your body out of the room with him. "I am still pretty hurt by having been pushed away by my bestest friend, so no flowers and no chivalry demand for you. Maybe a next time. "

"So there will be a next time ?" Your sly smirk reminded him of why you both were impossible to put up with when together. The endless back and worth was inevitable. It almost looked like the other would lose the biggest battle of their life if they didn’t respond.

"You hope for a next time huh ? I got you girl." You called it quit on that one when you felt your heart scream, yet again, for the fourth time since the conversation started .

. . .

The day soon came to an end, and you heard your mother's voice calling you from downstairs.

"Comin’ !"

You applied another spray of perfume before going down the stairs at a rapid pace, the entrance hall already opened to let you take in the sight of a waiting Zed.

"Here you are honey." Your mother rested a hand on your shoulder when your body stopped next to her. She surely had been talking with Zed while you were in the bathroom. "I wish you both a good time, but be home before midnight, got it ?"

"No problem Mrs.L/n, I am sure we’ll be home before midnight since she gets sleepy pretty quickly." His eyes shared a reassuring look to your mother, but you knew better than to be fooled by a Necrodopolis. You could see under this sweet and gentleman smile of his that he was gently making fun of you.

"I am pretty sure I will not." You retorted, your head moving childishly.

Zed was amused by your usual picked on reaction and smiled even more. You didn’t noticed it, nor him, but your mother quickly looked at the both of you with a suspicious look. She was used to your forever gentle bickering with the zombie, but she could swore she felt something unusual.

"Even though, midnight it is." You mumbled a fake annoyed ‘Yes mom’ before taking your leave with the boy right next to you.

The walk until Zombietown was filled with lively conversations, yet again, reminding yourself not to look too closely or too often slipped your mind every single time.

"I can’t wait, zombies party really are the best."

"I am glad you think that. I am pretty sure the first time I brought you to one you almost got a heart attack."

He didn’t mean to fully tease you, but you took the bait anyway. "You know I can’t really handle a lot of people ! But now it’s okay, I am used to it." You tried not to sulk, even the slightest, but you still huffed like a sulking puppy.

He smiled, feeling his chest warm up in your presence each step he took. The week he spends, mostly, without you almost got him into a crazy teenage frenzy. He felt like he had lost his north star and that no path could ever bring him back to you. He had wondered, just for a second, if the feelings he felt for you could be painted by many other meanings. But as a best friend, he denied them and acted like nothing changed.

"We’re here, let’s go inside."

To be sure you wouldn’t get lost or trapped in a wave of young zombies, he took your hand in his, clearing a path for you while he had tucked you closer to him.

In the middle of it all, you could have swore your eyes caught a glimpse of Eliza bun. You were quickly diverted from that thought by Zed who tried to find a quieter spot for you to enjoy the party. The old building room was crowded, he opted for a spot near the huge escape door, enough for you to enjoy the musics and people energy without getting overwhelmed. However his attempt drowned as quickly as he got to the corner he wanted when you spotted Bonzo.

"Look it’s Bonzo mixing ! Let’s get closer !"

"Don’t you prefer to stay here ?" His hand prevented you from leaving without him.

You turned around, realizing he just did all this room search for you. You felt your heart flipping in your chest along with you cheeks turning slightly pink, that detail had completely gone over your head.

"For this once, I’ll take the zombie heat full speed ! Come on !"

You dragged the boy along with you while he murmured ‘Why don’t you take my heat full speed’ under his breath, a sentence you couldn’t possibly hear with all that noise. Once near the stage, the boy you were excited to see locked eyes with you and started waving at you two.

"Y/n’ska !" His voice got caught by his microphone making you laught. You raised your free hand as high as you could, waving it and cheering for him. He greeted you with a tumb up before turnig his attention back on his tech.

You turned your head to center your attention on Zed again, only to see his gaze already focused on you. For some reason, it felt like his eyes haven’t left you even when you had waved to Bonzo. Your lungs warned you of a lack of air before new notes of musics reached your ears. A gasp made you breath again and a look of excitement took over your features when your head turned in every direction to look at the old speakers.

"Oh my god it’s that song from Hotel Transylvania !" Your hand let go of Zed’s, only acknowledging the fact that you didn’t let go sooner now. "They usually don’t play that kind of songs." You offered him a confused look, only for his smile to grow wider. You remembered yourself vibing to the song before the lyrics laughed at you because you were, indeed, in love with a monster now.

"I may or may not gave some of your playlist to Bonzo." His voice perfectly covered the song, making you able to only hear him.

You felt the floor slip under your shoes even if your body didn’t move an inch. "Why would you do that ?"

"Because I know how much you love the songs you listen to on a daily basis. I just thought it would make you happy to hear them here too."

‘Cause I’m in love with a monster.

You bit your lower lips, your heart ready to explode. You were going to let ip slip up, the words threatened to blurp out.

Friends say I’m stupid and I’m out of my mind, but without you boy I’d be bored all the time.

"You dance ?" You offered him the same hand you had taken away from him.

"How could I say no."

Everyone danced around you and Zed and even if you weren’t that good of a dancer, you allowed yourself to bounce around like you would do in your room. Your partner successfully made you drop some coordinated moves along with him. For a few seconds, it didn’t felt like a huge and moldy old building filled with hormones and sweats. You were in your own little world where only your best friend was allowed to appear when he made you twirl and move along with him.

The song soon ended to reveal another one that you knew a little bit too well. You turned around once more to look at Bonzo vibing behind his soundboard. Zed took the chance to offer a thumb up to his bro who looked up for a second, he quickly hid his hand when you looked once again at him.

"You’re joking..." Your voice wasn’t audible with all the fuss, and he didn’t noticed your lips slightly moving with intoxicating emotions.

"What ? Told you we choose some of your favorite songs !"

He was doing it on purpose, he had to. His voice started to sing along with the song, both his hands now holding yours to make you dance out of you surprise.

A shaky sigh escaped from your mouth, you weren’t sure your body could follow more of his tricks and energy, nonetheless, you tried to dance a bit more.

‘You and me belong together all the time.’

Soon his energy got to you, and you couldn’t help but sing along as he made you twirl more and swing from left to right. You laughed a few times when his foot got tangled in the weird choreography of other people, making him move a bit less for a few seconds.

His body towered over you, and he leaned closer to sing along with your voice, "This love is all we need !" He seemed so happy, so caught up in what was hapenning. He enjoyed this moment with you, he even went as far as asking Bonzo to add songs you loved to the party. It was the details even you didn’t notice, how on the way here he had looked to see if you weren’t cold, how he had searched for a quiet place so you wouldn’t get overwhelmed. How he remembered and kept the playlist you showed him.

And from those little things, greater gesture from him came to your mind. You weren’t the only one paying attention to all the little things about him, he was paying attention to you too.

Screw your denial, you couldn’t take it anymore. You couldn’t hide nor lie a second more, your body wouldn’t allow it. « Gar gargiza ! »

Zed had stopped moving nearly at the same time as you, his eyes widened with his mouth slightly open in shock. He felt his mouth turning dry, yet, he swallowed what seemed litres of saliva. "What did you say ?" He had to make sure, he had to hear it again.

You bit your lower lip, frustrated and scared, your body slightly shaking. "Gar gargiza you dumbass !"

"You know what that means right ?"

"Oh my god I am going to kill you ! I love you Zed, and I am going crazy about it !"

As soon as the word left your lips, his arms quickly squeezed you in the biggest, neediest hug you had ever received. You squeezed him as hard as you could before he, as quickly, pushed you from him, his hands tightly holding your arms.

"Tell me I can kiss you." You eyes widened at his words, and the seconds you took to respond were enough to burn out his patience. "Please." He begged.

You felt an urge, the same one Zed’s was trying to suppress to give you space and time to think. Your hands reached to his neck, landing on his skin as you stood on you tiptoe in a quick motion. Your lips touched his. It was a rushed move that ended as soon as you tasted him. However, he didn’t want to let you go just yet. His own hands rapidly but gently grabbed the back of your head to stop you from moving too far away from him, and with a last glance at your sparkling eyes, he kissed you. This time longer, sweeter. He wanted to remember the taste of your fragile lips, he wanted to stay connected to you as long as he could. He was tender and soft against you, keeping you close yet never too strongly so you could stop him at any given moment.

He felt his last bit of control being sucked out of him when your lips moved against his. He parted from you, against his will, your eyes almost pulling him again in your touch. He looked all around him, and you wondered what was happening. Your brain had completely pushed the off button and you were barely emerging from your ecstasy when Zed hand tugged you across the room.

"W-Where are we going ?"

It took him only a few seconds to find the exit. "Sorry to drag you out, but I can’t stay in there."

You soon found yourself in a smaller room that still seemed pretty big for both of you. He turned around to face you, his hand pulling you against him as his forehead touched yours. "I love you Y/n, so so much. I don’t know why it even took so long for me to say it."

His words hit you like a truck, he had rushed you out but you now understood why. You too wanted a moment alone with him, to finally know what it feels to be loved by him. What it feels to be loved by you.

"Maybe the fact that I avoided you because I was scared of my own feelings." You breathed heavily because of the run the boy put you through, it was hard to follow mister long legs with your tiny ones.

He laughed at the inside joke you made, remembering how he had bugged you about that exact fact today. "You were ?"

"Didn’t want to lose my best friend." You confessed with teary shining eyes. Even if it wasn’t the case anymore, you could have lost him back there. His hands made their way to your cheeks, smoothing the skin under your eyes to chase any tears that threatened to pour.

"Me too." His voice admitted soon after you. "But look, now you have a lover who happens to be your best friend of all time."

You exhaled an amused breath. "Girlfriend boyfriend huh ?" You wanted to keep on saying those words, and you wanted him to keep on approving what you thought.

Luckily, Zed knew you like the back of his hand and was aware of the things going through your head. "Y/n L/n, my sweet and beautiful girlfriend." He won another shaky smile from you. "Come here gorgeous, I haven’t had enought of your kisses."

With the slightest force, he brought your face to his to smother your lips with a million kisses. It made you laugh against his skin, and he soon pampered kisses all over your face.

"S-Stop ahah !"

"Never."

Your hands grabbed his wrist to show your, non-existent, protest. When he attacked your lips again with quick kisses, your own opened to surprise him with a bigger and even more needy kiss. Your move worked as his face stepped back with a really surprised look.

"What was that ?"

"What was what ? " You played dumb, earning a childish smile from him.

"What was that big kiss just now ? Were you trying to bite me ?" He kissed the corner of your mouth, giggling with you.

You took him in your arms, resting your head on his chest. His breathing appeased your emotions and thoughts, and you sensed the same could be said for him as his head came to rest on yours.

"Can I sleep at you place tonight ?" His demand was quiet.

"You’ll have to ask my mom."

"She loves me, of course it's going to be yes."

You sighed, of course she would say yes to Zed, it was Zed."She spoils you too much... "

[donnalawliet]

Coffee or Tea? (Five x Derek oneshot)

I really didn't like the way they handled Five's "love story" in Season 4. And even though he would have been fine without a romance too, here's my version of a Five experiencing love with a human. Not with Lila, but with Derek, Five's CIA colleague. This is set post S3 and pre S4. This is my personal addition to the Season 4 fix it movement. And even though it's set prior to that last season, I still think it counts.

I mentioned under a post that I would rather ship Five x Derek than Five x Lila. So...Here I am, doing exactly that.

Thank you @tuttle-did-it , @ashes-and-starlight and @xx-blood-lemons-xx for the initial inspiration! I hope you like it, especially you, @ashes-and-starlight . (I‘ll enjoy your Five diner fanfic when it comes out 😊)

I also wanted to thank @lookingforhappy for the post explaining why Five being a member of the CIA didn‘t make much sense. I attempted to explain some plotholes that you mentioned 😅

One last thanks goes to @i-am-tardis-locked for listening to me rambling all day, like always.

Anyway, let‘s get going!

—————————————

Summary: After being stuck in a reset universe without powers or siblings, Five joins the CIA to keep an eye on his family. There, he meets Derek and is suddenly confronted with all kinds of things he hadn't faced in years. Some of them seem uncomfortable at first, but he learns to warm up.

——————————————

Stranded in a new timeline, without his siblings or powers, Five was forced to adapt. Luckily, he was used to doing that. His father had once complimented his ability to adapt and Sir Reginald Hargreeves wasn’t exactly known for dolling out compliments for everyone and everything. In the four decades he had spent in the apocalypse, adapting to his enviroment was equal to survival. That included no longer feeling guilty for raiding corpses or no longer being picky when it came to food. The apocalypse was by no means a five star restaurant. When he transferred to the Commission, he had to adapt once more. New manners, new job, new people.

But through all of this adapting, one goal had stayed consistent. To save his family from the impending apocalypse, to go back for them. Once he left the courtyard without his siblings though, still coming to terms with the fact that he had his arm back…his goal had to adapt as well. This was no longer about actively saving his family. It was about keeping them safe. They came above everything else, not him.

Reginald had taught them a few things that back then, none of the Umbrella Academy members thought would be useful.That included obtaining legal documents, without the legal part. In the Commission, Five had sometimes watched the legal department, how they fabricated fake IDs, court orders or other documents with ease.

And even though he was nowhere near that level, he was good enough. It took him about a week to create an ID, a birth certificate and a high school diploma. All of it was a lot of work. He sometimes had to break into buildings to add himself to their records, but he didn’t care. It would be worth it in the long run.

————————————

Attending college was relatively easy in comparison, bordering on boring. Five’s father had prepared them quite well for that level of learning and in the apocalypse, he had become an expert on math and quantum physics. So a lot of the lectures ended up just being a formality.

Instead of writing things down, Five occupied himself with looking up his family. Allison was in LA with her husband, daughter and Klaus. Luther had found a new place of employment, along with Diego, who had welcomed his first daughter with Lila. Five quickly wiped at his eyes as soon as he read the announcement in the online newspaper. As much as he wished to be an uncle, he couldn’t. Not just yet.

Five finished college in record time. He didn’t attend the ceremony, even though a part of him wanted to. Only the weak need praise to carry on, he remembered his father’s words. And he didn’t have time to be weak. He had a job to do.

————————————

Protecting his siblings required sacrifices and overcoming personal challenges. That was something Five had realised a long time ago. But when he sent his application to the CIA, that realisation hit him like a ton of bricks once more. he roughly knew what a job like that was like. It required absolute loyalty, going undercover, a physical and psychological examination. All of it reminded him of the Commission. He would have an employer again, be stuck in an office instead of enjoying retirement.

Upon receiving his acceptance letter and the request to move to Washington DC for his training, Five slowly walked into his bathroom to look in the mirror. His fake birth certificate stated that he was 18, but in truth his body had just turned 16. Upon looking at his reflection though, he didn’t see himself. He saw an old man, traumatised by years of isolation and lack of things like food or personal hygiene.

“It’s going to be okay“, he whispered to himself, though it didn’t sound very convincing, “As long as they’re alright…it will be worth it.“

————————————

Throughout his training, Five felt an odd sense of numbness. He expected to feel disgusted by how much it reminded him of his training at the Academy or Commission. But there was nothing of the sort. No sense of anger towards the profiler during his psych eval, which he passed with flying colours. He knew what answers he had to give in order to be left alone. Five remembered how much the Commission profiler had bothered him, how he had hated getting his deepest insides get revealed in astonishing detail, until he had learned how to adapt.

But he felt nothing. Neither the obstacle course, examinations by a doctor or profiler really bothered him. He just went through the daily routine, like a zombie with just one goal. There was no anxiety when his test results arrived nor joy when the other cadets celebrated upon passing them. In what felt like a blink of an eye, his training was over and he was assigned jobs. And that was when he met Derek.

————————————

When Director Ribbons had announced that he wouldn’t be working alone, Five had been hesitant at first. Even back in the Commission, he had always insisted on working alone. No partner to bother him or distract him from his plans. But while the Handler had accepted this violation of protocoll, the Director didn’t.

“You’re a new and promising agent“, Ribbons had told him, without offering Five a seat to sit down in, “And despite your maturity, a partner will do you good, I’m sure of it. On undercover missions, you may go on your own, but I don’t see a reason for it in the office.“

Five bit his lip and shifted slightly. He liked being able to wear a suit again instead of the uniform that showed his knees to everyone. In a suit, people were forced to take him more seriously in some way.

“Sir, while I understand what you mean“, he hated having to take on a polite tone like that, “I really do work better alone. I’ll produce good results.“

Five wasn’t a fan of the whole respect game. But in order to stay employed, he unfortunately had to treat his boss with some level of respect, despite being much older.

Ribbons looked him over for a moment. Sometimes, Five had the feeling that his boss saw more than just an agent, but he couldn’t quite place it. Despite his request, he shook his head.

“You’ll be working with a partner. Go to your desk, he’s already waiting for you.“

Five had no other choice but to obey that order. If he protested more, it could result in another psych eval or unnecessary questions. So he simply nodded and made his way towards his desk, pushing the intrusive thoughts on how to quickly kill his boss out of his head. Ever since he had started to work at the Commission a few years ago, these thoughts refused to go away.

————————————

As soon as he entered his room, a young man stood up from his chair. If Five had to guess, he was only a few years older than himself, dressed in a dark green blazer, with a tie and light blue shirt underneath it. More casual than Five’s three piece suit, but still professional. His blonde hairstyle reminded Five a bit of the 1950s, but the glasses and soft facial features broke that illusion. Only a few seconds after entering did Five notice that he had been staring. His mind was really all over the place.

“I’m Derek Young“, his visitor eventually said after no introduction from Five came, “I’m your new partner, pleasure to meet you.“

He held out his hand to shake, a soft smile illuminating his features. Only then did Five regain his senses and shook his hand, making eye contact for the first time. He still wasn’t completely comfortable with touch, the sensation sometimes proved too much.

“Five, Hargreeves“, he replied, keeping it short and with no explanation on why he shared his last name with one of the most well known people in the world. Derek didn’t seem bothered by that cold introduction though, still smiling.

“Our boss told me quite a lot about you, Mr.Hargreeves“, Derek remarked while sorting through one of the files on the desk.

Five froze for a few moments. Not because of the first part of the sentence, he had heard that one many times. But never in his whole life had he been called Mr.Hargreeves by anyone. His siblings had called him Five, his father Number Five, the Handler and everyone at the Commission either those or Mr.Five on the rare occasion. But never Mr.Hargreeves. It didn’t feel like him, even though he was surely old enough to be called that. Still…it didn’t feel right.

“Please don’t call me that, Mr.Derek“, he told him, trying to keep his voice firm, but only being half successful. Five scolded himself for how weak he sounded. Why did a simple name break his mind?

Derek frowned for a moment, then shrugged like it was nothing.

“Very well. Is Mr.Five alright with you?“, he asked, almost carefully that time, as if testing out the waters, “Since you call me Mr.Derek.“

He had expected to not like that way of adressing him either. The Handler had called him that after all. And every time he thought of her, his stomach flipped upside down in not a good way. But surprisingly, Five felt oddly fine with it. Derek’s voice and body language was nothing like his former employer, there was no need to be alarmed in any way. He didn’t have to look up at him like he had always had to do with her and everyone else, they were roughly the same height. Five pulled himself out of his thoughts and shrugged.

“Sure, why the hell not. Do you know where in the building I can find a decent cup of coffee?“

The rush of caffeine always helped Five with distracting himself. No falling asleep, no nightmares, just work.

————————————

At first, Five had assumed that Derek would annoy him. He was much younger after all, there were still things like hope and life left in his eyes. His partner went to work with the genuine intention of helping others. He got Five coffee every morning, while he himself stuck with tea. And even though Five could never understand how one could prefer hot leaf juice over some roasted black coffee, he had to admit that Derek brought him some good coffee.

“Which machine do you go to?“, he asked one morning after taking his first sip, “No matter which part of the building I go to, all coffee tastes like absolute crap.“

Five wasn’t one for making small talk, so Derek was a bit caught off guard by the genuine curiosity. A light blush began to settle down on his cheeks and he cleared his throat a bit.

“I…I bring the coffee blend with me. I can give you the adress of the shop I go to, if that’s what you want, Mr.Five. It’s no big deal, I just thought you might enjoy it more. I can’t stand the tea they give out here either“, he replied and hid part of his face with his teacup.

For the first time in what felt like years, Five’s lip tugged upwards. It took him a moment to realise that he was smiling in  a genuine way, like an idiot. But he couldn’t bring himself to stop, a comforting warmth building up in his chest. He could barely remember the last time someone had genuinely cared about him in such a small way. Derek didn’t even like coffee, yet he brought a good blend of it to work, just so Five would feel a bit happier. The warmth in his chest moved upwards, settling in his cheeks in a similar way to Derek. He was blushing like a hormonal teenager, which he both was and wasn’t.

“Oh, I…Thank you“, he eventually managed to mumble, “That’s very kind of you. I’ll just…Go talk to our boss, he wanted something.“

Five quickly made his way out of the room, taking a few deep breaths as he leaned against the nearest wall. Ribbons didn’t even want anything, but he had needed an excuse to gather his bearings.

“Shit…get yourself together“, he whispered to himself, the taste of coffee still present on his tongue. And like every time he felt upset or overwhelmed, the last words of his former wife, Dolores, echoed through his mind: I want you to enjoy your life, Five. We had good years together, but it’s time that you learn to live without me. You fought so hard for your family, it’s time that you enjoy the results.

Five reached up as a single tear traced down his cheek, quickly wiping it away. He was a grown man, why was he so overwhelmed by this? He decided to avoid Derek for the rest of the day, he needed time to think.

————————————

A few weeks later, Five learned that if he wanted to, Derek could be just as sarcastic as he was. Ever since he had started working there, Susan had been a figurative pain in everyone‘s ass. But because she was a senior agent with a long history, almost no one dared say anything about it. One day, while waiting for their turn on the copier, she began to rant about all kinds of problems plaguing her. Five had to seriously focus on not snapping her neck, so he kept his mouth shut.

“Anyway, my son just introduced me to his boyfriend. Boyfriend?! He’s a man, how can he be attracted to another man? That’s not how it works!“, Susan exclaimed and looked at them, expecting nods or general confirming words.

Derek crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked her up and down. Five knew that look. He had given it to several idiots before.

“So you’re saying one should rather fall in love with a body than with a soul? That’s really shallow and sad“, he said and gave her a fake look of pity before grabbing the files from the desk next to the copier. While Susan still scrambled for words, Five turned towards Derek with surprise.

“Did you…Did you just…?“, he asked, lost for words for once. In response, Derek simply shrugged, a confident smile on his face.

“Somebody had to tell her, she was annoying me. Why, do you have a problem with that, Mr.Five?“

That last sentence had a certain edge to it, as if Derek was either scared or prepared that Five would say yes. However, Five shook his head almost immediately. He had been more surprised than anything else.

“No, not at all. Maybe she’ll keep her damn mouth shut for a few hours“, Five quickly deflected, still processing what had just happened. After that short conversation, they just continued with their day as if nothing had happened.

————————————

Later that evening, while reviewing his family’s files, Five’s thoughts began to wander once more. During the apocalypse, he had never really thought about his sexuality. He had Dolores, but she barely counted as a woman. He had never really felt the desire to have sex, he had more desired to just see a familiar face. Any human face, if he was being honest with himself. And the tough survival conditions didn’t leave much room to think about what he was attracted to. When he closed his eyes, he realised that he could see himself with a woman by his side just as easily as with a man.

And even though he knew how sex worked, the thought of himself having sex with anyone whatsoever left him disgusted. He vaguely remembered telling Klaus in 2019: What a disturbing glance into this thing you call a brain, when he had mentioned the topic.

Before his thoughts could go off the rails even more, Five pulled himself back to the present. He had to make sure his siblings were safe, that was why he had taken the job in the first place.

————————————

After a rather frustrating case that had taken weeks and almost made him bang his head against a wall, Five was exhausted, so was Derek.

“Would you like to catch some drinks later?“, Derek asked him as they both gathered their coats. It sounded so casual, in a way that Five could never do himself. In the last few years, Five had attempted to lower his alcohol intake, but he hadn’t completely succeeded in stopping completely.

“Oh, sure, but…I’m not a big fan of bars“, Five responded, sounding almost ashamed. He had gone to bars before, but had never been completely comfortable there. It had almost always been for work. He half expected Derek to decline as a result, mentally cursing himself for being so uptight. But surprisingly, that didn’t happen.

“That’s fine. We can go to my place, if you’d like. I don’t mind it, Mr.Five“, he said with a wink. That name had almost become a form of teasing that they used with each other. Five smirked a bit and put on his coat, a way of protecting himself from the cold November air.

“Lead the way, Mr.Derek.“

People had different types of reactions when they got drunk. Some got more angry and violent, others sad and melancholic, others happy and joyful. Five got more honest after a few drinks, dropping his walls a bit more. And after a few homemade martinis, he found himself relaxing a bit more.

“You’re quite nice“, he mumbled and took another sip from his glass, “Nicer than my family by a long shot. Why? What do you have to gain?“

Derek frowned and sat down on the couch next to him. His drinks had far less alcohol, so he was just feeling a bit tipsy.

“I’m not nice to you because I have something to gain, Five. Why would you think something like that?“ His voice got a bit softer, as if he felt that there was more behind that drunk question.

Five laughed in response, but it held no humor whatsoever. He was overwhelmed by all kinds of different feelings and thoughts.

“Because I’m a rude old man? Because I’ve never done anything to warrant friendliness from someone like you? You’re young, you could just ask for a transfer with someone who is…more like you.“ Five couldn’t care less that he had just hinted at his true age. If Derek left, it would just confirm his world view.

Derek blinked slowly as he listened to Five ramble. He couldn’t completely make sense of what he was saying, but asking would feel quite rude. So after a few seconds of silence, he set his glass down.

“You may come off as rude, yeah, but…That’s not who you are. Remember how you almost ripped Stacy’s head off because she called me a twink? You didn’t even know what it meant at the time“, Derek chuckled a bit and managed to get Five to smile as well, “I don’t care how old you are or how grumpy you can get without coffee. You deserve to be treated well.“

Five stared at him for what felt like hours, but was probably just a few seconds. He wasn’t even sure what his expression his face was making, he could be crying for all he knew. The last time he had felt close to that safe had been with Dolores in an underground bunker they had found.

He didn’t remember what came after, the alcohol sending his memory to nirvana. The next thing that Five knew, he woke up on a dark green couch underneath a knitted blanket. His head was pounding as if he was Zeus giving birth to Athena and the thirst was overwhelming. At the same time, the thought of moving was enough to make him groan.

“Shit…“, Five mumbled and lazily covered his eyes to avoid the sunlight. With it being November, that meant it must be quite late.

“Here you go“, he suddenly heard Derek’s soft voice right next to him. Slowly, Five moved his arm off his face and blinked up at him. The room was a bit darker now, thanks to the curtains. Derek was standing behind the couch so Five didn’t have to move his head too much, wearing his blue shirt without the tie or blazer. His hair wasn’t styled as neatly, it just looked fluffy and soft. But before Five could think about his hair further, his attention was drawn to what Derek was holding. A glass of water and a pill bottle, most likely aspirin.

“You’re my salvation“, Five mumbled and took both. The act of sitting up alone made him groan, but the feeling of cold water sliding down his throat made up for it. “What happened last night? After that…conversation we had.“

Derek cleared his throat a bit and sat down next to him on the couch, his expression unreadable.

“You had two more drinks, talked about your age, your ex wife, your siblings…then you threw up in my potted plant and passed out on my couch“, he explained and brushed his hair a bit more into place, “That’s it, I think.“

Five groaned and leaned back into the pillow that Derek had provided him with. He felt like he had ruined everything. The first casual relationship he had ever managed to build up with a human being that wasn’t his family or someone he had been tasked with assassinating…and he had destroyed it with alcohol.

“Shit…I really ranted a lot, didn’t I?“, he whispered, but Derek could still hear it, “I…I should go, I understand. I overstayed my welcome.“

He attempted to push himself up, his muscles aching from the hangover and hard couch he had been laying on. Though something inside of his chest ached as well. Before Five could stand up, Derek stopped him. The feeling of a hand on his shoulder was enough to make him freeze.

“Mr.Five, that’s not what I meant. You obviously needed to talk about it“, Derek took a deep breath as he looked him over, “And even though I didn’t understand half of it…You don’t need to feel ashamed.“

His words washed over Five like a wave, most of his focus still spent on the simple touch. He wanted to both pull away, overwhelmed by this simple act of comfort, but also lean into it like a starving man in the desert. So he ended up doing neither, just standing there until Derek pulled away again. Five wanted to say so much, but no words made it up his throat and through his lips. After a long and pregnant pause, he simply nodded and made his way out of the appartment. Derek didn’t stop him that time.

————————————

They didn’t talk about that incident for quite some time. For a few months, they went about their daily routine, making small jokes in between, drinking coffee and tea together in the morning. Until eventually, Five mentioned it again.

“What I said about my age, Dolores and my family…did it bother you?“

They were in the middle of sorting through reports, arguably the most boring part of their job, where it sometimes became necessary to fill the silence. Derek only glanced up for a moment before he grabbed his stapler off the desk.

“Why should it? You always seemed…more mature than others. And I’ve known about your family for months. I go through your files just as much as you go through mine.“

Five blushed a bit at the last remark. It was true, he had searched through Derek’s files on a regular basis. Maybe out of paranoia that he was working for the Commission somehow, even though that wouldn’t make much sense. And to know that Derek was doing the same…it strangely grounded him a bit.

As they continued to work in silence, Five’s mind went back to that morning when Derek had touched his shoulder. It hadn’t been an accidental or manipulative touch, it had just been a simple expression of human emotions. He recalled one time when he had been four years old, still thinking that parents were the heroes children made them out to be. They had watched a movie in which a son had hugged his father and his toddler mind had decided to recreate it. But instead of hugging him back, Reginald had pushed him away and sent him to bed without dessert.

Never trust a hug, he had sternly told his adoptive son, For it’s just another way to hide your face.

Ever since then, he hadn’t attempted to hug another human being. But that had been over five decades ago, surely it couldn’t hurt to…

“Could I try something?“, Five broke the silence once more. He hated how uncertain and young he sounded, like a teenager or child, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Derek noticed his different tone too, but decided not to comment on it. During the entire time that they had worked with each other, he had noticed that some things took more out of Five than the average person. So he simply nodded and stood up as Five approached, his arms hanging loosely at his sides until he realised what the other man was planning. Once the realisation dawned on him, he couldn’t hold back a smirk and lift his arms slightly.

It took Five a few seconds to bring himself to lean into the hug. The second that he did, fireworks went off in his brain. Sparks of colour and noise, all blending together into one picture. It was overwhelming, but he needed more. It was beautiful and hurt his eyes at the same time.

For just a few moments, everything melted away and time stood still. This wouldn’t heal all of his wounds by any means. He was still damaged, maybe beyond complete repair. But it was a start at least, a bandage on his cuts so they wouldn’t get infected. Even though he knew it wouldn’t last, Five allowed himself to feel happy, just for a few seconds.

————————————

During one of his days off, while watching a movie that Allison had recommended to him, Five’s phone buzzed. Strange, his siblings never texted him. They always called, ever since the attemp at a group chat had gone south. So he unlocked his phone and glanced at the text.

Derek: Hey, 5.  The pipes in my appartment burst and it will take a few days until it’s fixed. Would you mind if I maybe crashed on your couch?

For a few seconds, Five contemplated his choices. He could just say no, spare himself the trouble. But on the other hand…he wouldn’t mind not being alone for a few days.

Five: Sure, just stop by. You know the address, right?

Instead of getting a written response, he simply received an emoji of a hand holding its thumb up. Five still hadn’t completely understood the appeal of those modern hieroglyphics. He really was an old man.

Derek arrived not even half an hour later, carrying a bag that held the bare essentials. A few changes of clothes, toiletries and a book or two for entertainment. Five was sitting on the couch, on which he had placed a spare blanket and pillow for him. One cup of coffe rested in his hands and on the small table in front of him…

“You made me tea?“, Derek asked as he set his bag down and went to join him on the couch. The TV was on, playing a movie that he recognised as Brokeback Mountain. Normally he had always been the one to prepare their drinks and he hadn’t minded it either.

Five nodded, fiddling with his own fingers as he watched him pick up the cup. He had been a bit nervous about getting it right. Tea wasn’t his department after all. But the way Derek exhaled after taking his first sip, he knew that he must have done something right.

“Thank you, I appreciate it“, Derek smiled and kept his hands around the warm mug as he inhaled the familiar scent of green tea. It was quite comforting, just like Five’s presence next to him.

As the movie progressed, they both ended up shifting a bit more towards the middle of the couch. Sometimes Derek moved, sometimes Five did, almost like a dance, until they eventually touched shoulders. Five found himself relaxing sooner than the previous timest hey had touched.

When Derek’s hand moved to cover his own, he didn’t stop him, looking forward at the screen. It was slightly overwhelming, but nothing he couldn’t handle. During the climax of the movie however, Five gulped heavily and slowly turned towards Derek, who did the same.

“I’m way too old for you“, he attempted to lighten the mood, but it came out much weaker and desperate. At this point he could see every little detail of Derek’s eyes, the way the colours mixed together, every little imperfection and vein.

Derek cleared his throat slightly, for once not as light hearted. He seemed not as clueless as Five, but hesitant nonetheless. The coffee and tea on the table had been forgotten long ago.

“Your age is the least of my concerns right now“, he whispered back and readjusted his glasses before he repeated the same words that Five had said to him a few months ago, “Could I try something?“

At that point, Five felt like he was drowning. He felt lost, a sensation he had become rather familiar with. He could end this all with one simple word or one shake of his head, for he knew that Derek would respect his consent. But at the same time, he didn’t want to let this opportunity go. So despite not having taken in a breath for almost a minute, he found himself nodding.

Their lips didn’t touch. It wasn’t a desperate kiss like in romance movies meant for teenagers. Instead, it was a soft kiss on his cheek that he felt…warm and without the pressure to do more, not that Five would want that. Like a ray of sunshine warming his skin in the morning, right before the worries of life fully registered in his mind. Derek smiled as Five practically melted into the touch, pulling away after a few seconds.

“Good?“, he asked carefully, just to make sure he hadn’t gone too far. Five smiled a bit and brushed his chaotic hair back behind his ears.

“Yeah, good“, Five simply replied and pulled his legs up against his chest. He wasn’t sure whether he would ever be ready for a proper kiss or saying the three words that seemed to fall from people’s lips so easily. But that maybe wasn’t necessary. They communicated that through other means. Like how Derek prepared Five’s coffee in the morning or how Five’s expression lit up when his desk partner entered the room.

————————————

On the first of October in 2025, they decided to move in with each other. Five teased that it was merely to reduce costs, since they spent most of the time in Derek’s appartment anyway. It had much more life than Five’s place, with small things that made it feel like home. And getting his coffee before work certainly had its advantages. Derek simply smiled at that explanation, not bothering to engage in a meaningless discussion. Instead, he grabbed his coat and handed Five his cup.

“Happy Birthday, Mr.Five“, he said with a wink before heading off to work, leaving a frozen Five behind.

————————————

A few days after his birthday, Five started his investigation into the Keepers support group. Going undercover meant that he had to put on a disguise, so he went for a mix of Top Gun enthusiast and school janitor. The mustache had been his idea, mainly because he missed the facial hair he used to have. It at least made him look a bit older.

Derek chuckled the first time he saw him in disguise. It wasn’t clear whether he was simply amused or making fun of Five.

“What?“

Five couldn’t help but sound a bit defensive. He hadn’t gone completely over the top, right? No, this was simply a cover, for security purposes.

Derek stepped forward, carefully tracing the mustache and making sure it was secure. Five sometimes got figuratively sick at how soft he looked with such simple gestures.

“Nothing. I think it works, Mr.Five“, he responded and looked him over from top to bottom, “You should get going now or you’ll be late.“

Of course, Five couldn’t have that. He still had work to do. By going on undercover missions, he could rise through the ranks and gain more information on how to keep his siblings safe. But despite all of that…At the end of the day, enjoying coffee or tea wouldn’t hurt.

————————————

I hoped you enjoyed this oneshot! I certainly enjoyed writing it, distracting myself from the mess we got in Season 4.

If you liked it, leave a like or a comment. It really makes my day and encourages me to keep going. Also, I would have an idea for a smaller additional chapter, set during Season 4. It would also have some angst. Would you be interested in that? If you are, let me know!

Until next time,

-Donna Lawliet

[sundrop-writes]

why did you delete careful?

i went to go re read and its gone 🔫🔫

Just to clarify for everyone - yes, I did delete it from Tumblr. My series Careful (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader) - has been completely scrubbed from Tumblr, aside from reblogs by other people that I cannot delete.

Why did I delete it? Honestly, the tone of your message really drives home why I deleted it - entitlement from readers, a general unkindness toward me and this work that I have put hundreds of hours into. People being rude in the comments and blatantly misunderstanding the work because of a fanon acceptance of babying Spencer to the point of emotional incompetence and absolutely smooth flawlessness. (So having me prod at his flaws in the fic makes me worthy of such harassment.)

I really wanted to drive home the fact that you are not entitled to fanfiction. Fanfiction is a privilege.

I deleted it because I wanted to make a point: fanfiction is free, and you cannot treat it with the same harsh, unhinged criticism that you would with a piece of media that you paid for. (Especially because fanfiction authors are directly reading your comments, while TV producers/writers and movie producers/writers are not.) If you do not like something in a fanfic that you're reading, click away and forget about it - don't comment on it.

And I really hope that me deleting this fic and people 'missing' it will cause people to take a step back and self examine so that they are kinder and more thoughtful the next time that they comment on a fic.

Writers use their free time to work hard on fics, and there is a huge amount of stress that goes into getting an idea down on paper, making it coherent, editing it - even something like making fanfic covers to embellish our fics to make them more enticing to read. There is a lot of hard work and stress that goes into a fic before it's even seen by anyone, so I don't need the added stress of rude comments, entitled people, and the passive-aggressive 'this is good, but-' comments that people constantly bring to the table.

I really, really loved Careful when it was in my drafts. I was so excited to post it for everyone to see - but after posting it, the comments I received made me resent the fic so much, made me question my entire creative process as a writer, and made me really bitter toward the fictional characters I was writing about, but when I went into the fic, I had nothing but genuine enthusiasm about them.

Making someone develop a deep, vile resentment (bordering on hatred) toward their own fic is really something else. And it made me realize that people don't deserve to read that fic in order to comment on it.

It will not be reposted to Tumblr, but it is still on AO3 - and that is very purposeful on my end, because all my fics are archive locked, so fewer people can see them and read them. I was considering deleting it off every website altogether, but AO3 is an archive for a reason. I may orphan it on AO3 later -or I just hope that I can write enough works that I am proud of and that I love in order to bury it deep in my catalogue so that I don't have to look at it or think about it anymore.

If you really want to read it, go find it there. If you don't have an AO3 account - then idk what to tell you.

Just be kinder and more thoughtful when commenting on fics. And please, learn to support writers in other ways - actually reblog their work instead of just lingering with a blank blog, go back and read older fics on their masterlist, engage with them.

And if you already do these things, this message is obviously not for you. If me saying this pisses you off, then this is probably for you.

[heinous-desiree]

YES!!!!! AND THERES SO MANY GOD DAMN POSSIBILITIES!!!! Because like obviously C!Sydney is a fucking chaotic switch sadomasochistic bastard and I feel like Whitney absolutely needs to be bullied into his fucking place and would be shamefully turned on by it oh my GOD. but also both of them bullying You? Or Sydney and You at Whitney’s whims? Or You teasing both Sydney and Whitney? IT LITERALLY WORKS IN ALL COMBINATIONS AND IT’S SO HOTTTTT GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!!!!!! I’m SO upset at how there’s little to no fanfics of this combo 😭😭😭 and in general Syd is just so fucking under appreciated Im such a simp aggsbsbdbdbd

I know of a fanfic where Kylar and PC dom Whitney and it’s SOOOOO FUCKING HOTTTTTT I need more content of making Whitney a slut bc it’s just. SO GOOD. He ABSOLUTELY gets off on being put in his place that fucking brat.

You make some EXCELLENT points and you know what they say! Be the change you want to see in this world.

M!Sydney, PC, M!Whitney 3some. Dubious consent, bordering noncon, handcuffs, overestimation, mindbreak, fucking Whitney half to death cause I say so.

"F-Fuck-"

When you asked Whitney if he wanted to fuck you on the church grounds, eye narrowed hungrily while you innocently played with your cross. He just thought about making you scream pretty, letting all the other holy prisses know you might have promised your body to God, but you were his.

So why the hell was he handcuffed between you and that library prat?

"Shhh," you hushed him as Whitney choked on another moan. You breathed in the incense that made your world blur and skin warm, you couldn't tell if the fumes had any effect on the delinquent since he was already flushed.

You smiled sweetly as you turned up the vibration on the stroker you were milking him with, watching the little focus he had left break.

"You- nghaaAHH," Whitney jerked forward, only to be dragged back down by the unforgiving grip around his torso. Whitney couldn't get enough air to curse as he spasmed against Sydney's chest, all while Sydney's finger stayed meticulously stretching out his hole.

"Aw, don't cry," you cooed at him. He shuddered out a breath of relief when you pulled the stroker off him, but that was short-lived as you wrapped your hand around his sensitive length. "You haven't even fucked me yet... We've hardly began."

"Hm, we want to test if we can fuck the sin out of someone," Sydney said lowly to his ear, and that tone went directly to his dick. "Ah, you're tightening up again... For your own sake, you need to...

"Relax."

Whitney saw white as Sydney pressed hard at the ball of nerves inside him, he heard screaming and barely realized it was coming from himself as Sydney mercilessly attacked that area.

"You're hard again," you sang playfully. Whitney blinked to see you spread out in front of him, forcing his member into yourself with a small whine. "Syddd, I think he's ready~"

"Wh...What?" Whitney mumbled out as he was set bonelessly on top of you. The fingers left him, and he felt his eyes close. He needed a moment, just a moment. Then he was going to kill you two.

That thought was brutally shoved out of his head as he held still by a bruising grip on the hips and bottomed out in one thrust. "FUCK YOU-"

"Mind your language," Sydney panted as he pulled all the way out to roughly thrust in again, "you're... In a holy place!"

"Fucking bitch-" Whitney felt you wrap around him, moved along with the rough pounding. Whitney lashed out his leg to kick Sydney, but that only caused the thing inside him to pulse as Sydney grabbed his ankle to pull him further open.

"You're going to have to hit a lot harder than that, love."

Whitney bit down on your shoulder before he could start screaming again, Sydney moved in a pace as if he was trying to remold his insides, and the new position let Sydney go deeper than before. Whitney tasted blood, but you only squeezed harder around him.

Damn fucking slut, Whitney thought to himself, feeling the cum sucked out of him.

He lost grip on you after that, dick sliding out of you and having the air knocked out of him by Sydney.

Finally, finally, Sydney pulled Whitney close and released in him with a groan. Whitney was left trembling, breathing harshly. He was too exhausted for this. You two can leave him naked there for all he cared, he's taking a fucking nap-

"More." Sydney pulled Whitney to his side, still hard as he pressed against Whitney's abused hole. Whitney eyes widen as the length went into him again.

"Fuuuucgghhhk," Whitney's arms stretched out, but only heard Sydney laugh. Fuck, fuck, fuck, that bastard lost it.

"Where do you think you're going?"

He was rammed with a new relentless pace, Whitney couldn't see past the stars in his eyes, and he was letting out wet gasps. He could hear you speaking, telling him you love him and praising him for lasting so long.

"His toes are curling, how cute," Sydney voice joined, Whitney felt dizzy from the rush of arousal that made him feel.

You two didn't let up, having him again and again in different positions. His mind fully went blank after he had his knees pushed to his chest and another climax ripped out of him.

At one point, he probably lost consciousness. He only knew that when he was aware again, his feet were off the floor, held up like a rag doll, and still used like a fleshlight.

He doesn't think he can speak anymore, soon he doesn't know if he'll be able to think anymore.

He did his best to slur out "insatiable sluts" as he rid out another orgasm.

[merik72-blog]

⚠️ CRINGE FANFIC PAST THE BREAK ⚠️

"Keqing..." Ganyu murmured, "your form?" She lazily placed her fingers atop Keqing's wrists, guiding them. "Would you like me to remind you?" she continued.

Keqing's posture stiffened slightly and her eyes widened for a moment. Ganyu's breath tickled the back of Keqing's neck, causing jolts of Electro to dance down her spine. She slowly turned her head while cracking a shaking smile.

"Yes- I mean- No, I remember. Straight wrists. To line up with the force of the weapon, right?" Following the pressure of Ganyu's fingers, Keqing started relaxing her wrists.

"Mmhmm, better," said Ganyu, yawning.

Ganyu's morning voice took out whatever parts of Keqing's brain were still functioning. Her mind was sent swimming. She couldn't help but notice how the groggy morning Ganyu was a bit more informal, a bit less reserved...

These archery lessons would be more affecting than Keqing anticipated.

---- End of Fanfic. Beginning of random thoughts ----

I want to believe that Ganyu uses war bows with serious draw weight: she fought in a war, didn't she? So, God as my witness, she should have the muscles to do that.

I bet Ganyu's lat spread is crazy. Wings and horns? Is she an alicorn? buffalo wild wings?

I also don't personally ship these two very hard, but just Aesthetically though?

I had a lot of fun with this one. For the sake of learning, I tried using no blending (full cell shading), no blending layers, and choosing every color using the color wheel. I definitely wouldn't do it this way again, but it felt instructive!

I think i'm gonna draw some class of '09 next because if i don't get some of this out of my system i'm gonna be watching jeckole animatics forever

Here are the progress shots of this because i just love how the sketch/lineart of them look

I wanted to draw a complex background but I just hated how it looked, so i scrapped it and put them on the jade chamber.

i want groggy ganyu! i would love to see an irritated/fed up Ganyu. Do you ever think Ganyu gets finished with a 30 hour shift and just go "fuck work, fuck this, i can't believe this shit. the whole country is resting on whether or not i decide to slave away working inhumane hours"

I also made pfps of these for myself and the loml. This makes it kinda look like I headcanon Ganyu as trans; lmao. i don't but nothing against anyone who does. if you wanna use these, idk credit me ig. if you dm me and ask nicely, i might send you one with a transparent background instead lol. if i have time

the keqing border looks worse imo but it was mine so idrc

[aseriesofsmallthings]

Writemas: Day Four

Hello! Writemas day four (hosted by @agirlandherquill) is upon us and I'm still going strong! Today's entry is being brought to you from a hotel room desk, and was written on the train over here! As a result, it's another long(ish) one, which I'm quite pleased with, as the previous two had been dropping off a tad in terms of word count. This one also borders so close to fanfic it's ridiculous (it isn't fanfic, but a lot of it was unintentionally inspired by a TV show kinda), and my head is now screaming at me to turn it into one. Anyways, as per the previous three, very limited editing was done to this, so I apologise for any mistakes made throughout. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! 🤍

Prompt: He could not stay still, if he did, his mind would shatter.

Title: Untitled.

Words: 711

Genre(s): Contemporary (very angsty)

He paced the hallway, shuffling the case files under his arm from one side to the other – left to right to left. He reached her door, then backed off again; lifted his fist to knock, and let it drop to his side again. His hand hovered over the handle, contemplating just letting himself in, his other hand fiddling with the well-worn folders.

     He had to blink away the tears that formed in his eyes, over and over again. A deep breath. He steeled himself against the onslaught of emotions that threatened to spill, pushed himself forward, opening her door – probably with more force than necessary – before he could change his mind.

     It was exactly as she had left it. A pile of books she would never get to read stacked precariously on the small, oak coffee table; the olive curtains drawn back to reveal the treetops outside the window. Picture frames of her family, her friends, the team, scattered along the windowsill, the fireplace, the TV stand. An empty cup left on the side table next to the low, grey sofa. Everything the same, waiting for her, it seemed.

     He pushed the door shut behind him, taking his time to look around before he stepped in further, the glow of the setting sun outside filling the room with an ethereal quality he didn’t want to disturb. He moved slowly towards the kitchen, placing the files on the island counter in front of him. He pulled out a stool, as he had done here so many times before, to pore over the case at hand. It had become their routine, choosing whose place they would use, ordering Chinese food and sitting across from each other, analysing case notes and piecing the evidence together. The evenings would start off as work, and eventually would turn into playful banter and laughing. He smiled at the thought of her laugh, how it used to consume him, and he broke, once again.

     He steadied himself with another deep breath and was overcome with the scent of her surrounding him, wishing she would walk through the door just one more time.

     “I thought I would find you here”, a voice from behind him announced. His heart leapt, his mind taking a second to catch up to the fact that it wasn’t her. He didn’t respond, merely glanced over in her direction, a smile of too much sympathy etched across her face. It infuriated him that she had followed, especially here. She had been doing that a lot lately, ever since… since Tilly. He had chosen to ignore her – he had gotten quite good at it – but this was different, she shouldn’t be here, not in Tilly’s flat. “Please, look at me. We’re worried, Daniel.”

     “Please, just leave me alone,” he sighed, defeated.

     “This isn’t going to change anything, this frantic running about you’re doing. She’s dead, Daniel, and acting the way you are isn’t going to bring her back, nothing can.”

     “Leave me alone.”

     “You need to stop, at least just for tonight - go home, rest, the case will still be here in the morning.”

     He clenched his fists, gripping the edges of the files that now lay open on the countertop with white knuckles. He bit his lip, a feeble attempt at keeping his next words to himself, stifling the tears, that once again, tried to escape his eyes.

     “You’re wrong.” He had never been good at keeping quiet – he almost laughed at what Tilly would have had to say to that. “It will change something. It will change the fact that those, murderers,” he spat, “are roaming around free, while Tilly doesn’t get to anymore!” He had to keep going, he had to keep pursuing them, for her, but for him too. He wouldn’t rest until their lives were no longer theirs, made to spend the rest of them behind bars. He would not stop – could not – until that happened. He couldn’t stay still, if he did, his mind would shatter, much like his heart already had.

     The tears he had tried so hard to suppress fell freely now. “She doesn’t get to live anymore,” his voice was almost a whisper now, breaking in places where the sobs overwhelmed him, “- neither should they.”

[rkmoon]

Writeblr intro! (Let's do this right this time)

Hallo! I'm Revan. 25. A he/him enby. Living in the Philippines. AuHD. I'm a writer, (sometimes a) digital artist and microbiology student. I have a lot of writing projects (some of them fanfic but shhh) and I am flirting the idea of serializing them somewhere on the internet soon, so you may read them someday! Please don't feel scared to talk to me or tag me! I love talking. If you give me a chance I'll never shut up jhfbjhbfjbf

One of my goals is to be a prolific writer and if I start listing down what Im working on it'll be too much information haha so let me just say what projects are kind of close to finished right now.

(I write queer speculative fiction btw. If it ain't queer, I didn't write it lol)

My works

Project Shapeshift

Genre: Queer, Contemporary Drama

Length: ~30K (Could become longer)

Status: Draft 2 Ongoing

Tag: #projectshapeshift

Ariel Reyes hasn't been happy in a long time.

As a university drop-out working under a terrible boss, his life had been filled with work, work, and working even harder to please Gina, his live-in girlfriend. When Gina tells him she wants to move in a better apartment, he decides to find a second job to pay for it, even though he already felt drained to the bone. On a moment of weakness on the death anniversary of his mother, he prays to the agimat she had passed onto him for strength, only to wake up baffled in the morning, for he had gained the ability to turn into a woman.

One might think it would have be disturbing, but instead it was... refreshing.

And so it kickstarts Ariel's journey into finding their true self, rekindling old dreams, and turning his life around to grasp at their own definition of happiness.

Project Heartless

Genre: Queer, Dystopian Fantasy, Horror

Length: 118K

Status: Draft 3 - Waiting for Beta

Tag: #projectheartless

The Heartless are empty of morals– just as nonexistent as their heart.

That was what Rainier Sandoval had been taught at an early age. As an Inner City dweller, the barbarism in the Outer District, where the Heartless thrived, was hard to imagine. But when his own heart was stolen and crushed on his twenty-fifth birthday, he was exiled to that very place, forced to see for himself.

He had thought he was prepared, but the expectations were so horribly different from the reality. Conspiracies were afoot, and the more he stayed in Outer District, the more he realized he had been lied to his entire life. 

The monsters he was taught to fear might be Angel City's only hope against threats lurking beyond its borders. In a twist of fate, they might also be Rainier's only hope against his own inner demons.

(I will be adding to this intro as new projects come up! :D)

[seasidesandstarscapes]

Writer's Tag Game

Tagged by @strangethings-everywhere & @effervescentyellow !!! finally catching up on tag games ;^_^

Rules: Answer some or all of the questions below. Tag your fellow writers. Enjoy!

Link to your masterlist: Lol i'm too lazy to make one, but my ao3 is pretty kept up to date!!!

Favorite and least favorite genres to write (angst/smut/fluff, etc): Favorite is probably Angst with a Happy Ending or Smut With Feelings. Love when the couple figures out just how much they love each other. I can never write Major Character Death tho. Or the times I have, it's been such a struggle;;;;

Favorite characters to write for? Right now it's been Don just because I think I relate to him in a lot of ways. Though Chuck and Roger have been fun!! trying to figure out their dynamics :d

Which one of your works is your favorite? I guess right now it's....the Hockey AU?? The response to it has been so wonderful and the story became so much more than I ever imagined it would be!!!

Which one of your works is more popular than you thought it would be? The Hockey Fic!!! I was worried I was smashing too many things into one fic, but it seems to have worked in the end??? and i keep getting more and more inspo to write for more of this AU which is so so good (thank you @sparrow-in-the-field >3<)

Which one of your works is less popular than you thought it would be? Idk??? just getting one hit on my stories astounds me so i'm never upset when something doesn't get as much attention as the others ajfskdslfs

Which one of your fics was hardest to write? Why? Definitely my Sci-Fi AU that i've yet to share. It's a labour of love and i just want it to be perfect for the fandom but also i've edited and reread it so many times i'm so worried it's not good anymore and ghfdjsfkslfsk

What is your favorite fanfic by someone else? THE TOUGHEST QUESTION CAUSE EVERYONE IN THE FANDOM IS SUCH AN AMAZING WRITER let me make a list under a readmore ahgdfjksl

@sparrow-in-the-field 's Quiet Act is ESSENTIAL for anyone in tbitb fandom, it has it all, the pining, the fluff, the angst, the perfect movie references, ugghhgfjdkl it's beautiful and such a good fic to start with if you're not sure where to begin with reading tbitb stuff

@teaforarteza 's On The Border gave me my first "oh. OH" at how perfect Bobby and Don are for each other, plus it's so hot and tender all at once HOW i have definitely had to reread and comment more than once just for my thoughts to catch up aghdfjsk

@arokel 's Light the Kindling is so much fun because we get to meet Percy who I'll protect with my life and we get such soft moments with Don and Bobby that also turn hot and sexy but still so filled with emotion ahhghgjdfskl

@kjxlll 's (getsalami on ao3) Hands, Tears, and Glory has me chomping at the bit every time I reread it. Anonymous sex that turns out "oh shit it's YOU" has a chokehold on me and godddd Bobby gets destroyed in so many delicious ways

@shadowquill17 's hands and voices makes me so weepy and soft and it's just so lovely and beautiful to have a glimpse of our boys after the olympics, when Bobby's assistant coach and he and Don are just so incredibly in love ahhhh

@thesummerpetsalamander 's (pavlovsfrog on ao3) The Sweetest Sounds is another hot one that also had me giggling and kicking my feet. Don and Bobby are so much fun in this modern AU and it's like hffjdsklfsd man oh man

@icegreyrose 's You Have But Slumber'd Here is so so good, I love magic realism and this story just pulls you in, always has a twist that shocks you in the best way and it's so cool and ahhghfjdk

@effervescentyellow 's Oh, But Honey had me in TEARS god so beautiful, it was nostalgic, relatable and just really digs in and nestles into your soul, i'm a constant puddle when I remember it

@kcsplace 's (CaseyStar on ao3) We'll Stay As We Are is gorgeous omgggg I was holding my breath, I was filled with heartache and love all at once, I was worried and reassured all at once, very cathartic if you need to get some emotions out

@dogwooddiaries 's (breakingofdawn on ao3) Undo Me IS AN AMAZING ROLLER COASTER you want a one night stand that turns into something more??? a friendship turned to love??? both Bobby and Don no longer able to deny their feelings for each other???? you got it all in one incredible fic

@borealopelta 's (zargothoraxcore on ao3) it always leads you to my hometown is heart-wrenching and hot and soft and devastating. You want the best and worst time (affectionate) of your life???? read this fic asap and cry with me

@strangethings-everywhere 's (booknerds_unite on ao3) When Our Fingers Touch, I Feel My Way Back Home IS ANOTHER ESSENTIAL FOR TBITB FANS tragic and heartwarming, it'll destroy you and lift you above mountains. And if you're a ww2 buff like me, it makes it all that more emotional and clawing at the ground as your heart bleeds

@crushribbons MY LOVE her xReader and xOFC fics are so much fun!!! i'll admit i've never been a fan of reader/ofc but Laney changed that for me just because her takes are so unique from what I've seen in the past??? Her stories make me laugh, make me emotional, ugghgh like if she can make me a changed man, then you KNOW it's good

of course i can't not mention @savvylittlecoxswain who has been our plethora of information regarding our boys, sharing all these fun facts and details the movie should've taken into account smh ALSO Olie has a wing fic in the works that I am SO EXCITED FOR YOU HAVE NO IDEA

Also please check out FreyasDaughter's From Berlin, With Love because that one is such a good instrospective take on the events in Berlin, a completely different writing style that's so cool, and Joe being the best boyfriend to Joyce I swear its ahhhh

fishyies is another great fic writer who's really tugged at the heartstrings , very real and raw and just makes you take a step back and breath

basically all this to say we have so many good fic writes in tbitb fandom and just choosing one fic is so hard because everyone's style is so unique and fun and amazing and i love you all ;v;