#but the nature of the show often means it won’t last

[absolutely-not-my-main-blog]

What’s really fascinating to me is the main characters in Always Sunny are all objectively terrible people, at times quite possibly some of the worst™️ human beings you could ever meet, their schemes almost never work out and they usually get what’s coming to them (and usually deserve it), but that’s not all they are, and in spite of it all, after everything... I still care about them, truly and genuinely; in the end, I still... want them to be happy in some form just once. They do bad things but... good and bad people don’t exist, people are people are people.

And that’s such a testament to how they’re written I don’t even know how to describe it.

[ceilidho]

prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 2. (read part 1 here) tags: dubcon

-

There’s a photo of you taped up on the inside of his locker. 

The glimpse you catch of it is quick. Not like you aren’t meant to see it, but more like Johnny’s so unconcerned with whether you see it or not that he doesn’t bother to make a show of it. Just reaches into his locker to grab his lunch and shuts it while you’re still gaping at the polaroid of someone that looks suspiciously like you in your store uniform. You hear someone clear their throat and you glance up, flinching when you meet Johnny’s eyes.

“Missing me already?” he teases, winking. “I’ll be back on the floor as soon as possible. ‘Promise, hen.”

“It’s not—” 

He’s already out the door and on the way to the lunchroom before you’re able to get the rest of your sentence out. 

Johnny seems to have a sixth sense for when you’re about to spurn his advances. Any other day he would have stuck around to listen to the rest of your sentence, but when he has an inkling that those words will be tinged by the flavour of rejection, he’s quick to book it. You privately have to admit it’s not a terrible strategy. It’s not often that you’re able to get the words out. 

It’s one of those rare shifts where you’re clocking in later than Johnny, missing his lunch break. Small mercies. It doesn’t mean much because your schedules still overlap a significant amount, but it does mean that you won’t be forced to choke down your lunch while Johnny sits opposite you at the lunch table and stares you down the entire half hour. 

“Wait, that was so fucking cute,” someone says from behind you. You turn on your heel to find a coworker staring at Johnny’s locker, properly enchanted by whatever she saw. Practically swooning. 

“What is?”

“Didn’t you see the picture he has of you? In his locker?” She says it with emphasis, giving you a significant look. 

“Yeah…I…don’t you think it’s a bit…like, weird?” you ask her, making sure to keep your voice low in case Johnny is still around the corner. You can’t help the way you glance down the hallway.

She frowns. “It’s cute. He’s like, smitten with you. I’ve never seen him with a crush on anyone before and I’ve worked with him for over a year. I think it’s kind of nice. Do you not like him or something?”

“Well, I just…we aren’t even dating and I think…I think he even has a photo of me as his lock screen—”

“Because if you aren’t interested in him, you should let him down now. It’s not fair of you to just string him along, you know. He’s a really good guy.”

You’re not sure about the whole good guy thing. Johnny acts like a nice guy most of the time, but you’ve had the unfortunate luck in getting to experience the other side of him.

The problem lies in the fact that Johnny is, you think, a genuinely likeable guy to everyone else. It’s not like your coworkers are all collectively wrong in their opinion of him—he really is an excellent coworker. A good sport, a funny guy; he lends a hand whenever someone needs help. He helped Jeff move two weeks ago, drove Daryl to the airport last Saturday, and looked after Sonya’s cat while she was away on vacation that one time. 

It’s with you that his good-time nature evaporates; his lazy, drawled predilection for joking around and indulging himself and others in a good ribbing replaced by a weird, manufactured kindness. Almost sickly sweet. He lays it on so thick around others that they think you experience the same friendship with Johnny that the rest of them get to enjoy. 

Not so.

None of them catch the way he’s always hovering, always staring at you. Eyes half-lidded; bedroom eyes in the middle of your shift, in the middle of the workplace. 

None of your coworkers are around when you’re at the register one day and Johnny takes his break to make a couple purchases, coming to your cash with a basket full of chocolate, wine, condoms, body butter, and batteries. No one except him notices the way you pause at the last item.

“Dinnae ken if your vibrator was rechargeable or not,” he says when you look at him funny, a big grin stretched across his face. Blue eyes gleaming almost feverishly. “Thought I’d be prepared either way.”

You scan his items in silence. When you hand him his bag, you try not to shudder when he purposefully glances his hand over yours. 

Worse are the days when Johnny comes in as a customer, the days when he’s off the schedule. When he shouldn’t even be at the store at all. No one notices the way he pesters you the entire time he’s in the store, insisting on you helping him with his purchases. If a coworker does happen to notice his presence (and how could they not when he’s such a formidable presence in any room, when he almost glows from the energy stockpiled in his body with nowhere else to go), he’ll make polite conversation, just long enough to not seem rude, before shifting his attention back to you. 

His conversation borders on interrogation. He asks you about your childhood and your friends and whether you have a partner or any previous partners. He makes you follow him to the bed section where he tries out all the mattresses and then asks you increasingly inappropriate questions like what mattress you have, what it feels like, how you sleep at night, what you wear to bed. 

When you rebuff him one too many times, he’s not shy about telling you off. 

“Ye just need a good fuck ta sort ye out,” Johnny snarls when you brush off another invite out to lunch one day. It’s not often that he loses his temper with you, so his anger makes your eyes widen, your pulse pick up. During morning shift assignments, he’d corralled your manager into pairing the two of you up on curbside pick-up orders, meaning that you’ve been stuck with him for hours, nowhere else to go. 

“Excuse me?” you say, voice going up a decibel. 

He leans across the front of the cart loaded with flowerpots and gardening tools. “I get it, hen. No one at home ta play with your pussy, huh? No choice but ta come into work all pent up and frustrated—”

“This is in like, the outer Hebrides of ‘none of your business’—”

“—clit’s probably all swollen too. Fuck.” He breathes out heavily through his nose, eyes darkening. “No wonder you’re always pissed off. I’d be too if I dinnae have a little replacement pussy at home.”

“You’re the reason I’m upset in the first place, Johnny.”

“Aw, I ken, bonnie,” he says with a pout, eyebrows slanting down like he really, truly pities you, the gesture immediately contradicted by his next words. “Promise I’ll make it better. Wanna meet outside my truck in a half hour?” 

You storm off before it comes to blows. Not that it’d ever be a fair fight. Johnny would probably hold you away with his palm against your head while you swung at him uselessly. You try not to think of that too often. Of him toying with you. Most of your interactions feel like that these days. Like he’s a big cat holding your tail down when you try to scramble away. 

When you beg your manager to switch shift assignments, the look you get could wilt flowers. It’s not completely your fault, even if your request is a bit inconveniencing. Johnny has your coworkers and management so wrapped around his finger that no one can even hazard a guess as to why you might be uncomfortable around him. 

It’s the only reason you haven’t complained to HR yet. There are channels and protocols for dealing with his behaviour, but watching people practically trip over themselves to please him reminds you that the likeliest outcome would be them transferring you to another store. It just doesn’t seem worth it.

You don’t think about how frazzled his words leave you for the rest of your shift. You don’t think about it because there’s nothing to think about. 

You know from the second that your manager reassigns you to women’s apparel that you’ve probably made a mistake. Customers buzz around you like gnats, like swarms of flies, and it’s only natural that you’d be compelled to swat a few. You hold on to the fraying edges of your patience with little finesse. About halfway through your shift, you get a stern talking to from your floor supervisor and put on an extra long break. You’re no less irritated when you get back though, somehow still agitated and snappy. 

Big hands clamp over your shoulders and squeeze like he’s giving you a massage, thumbs digging into the grooves of your upper back. He ignores the way you tense up.

“Hen, you’re making the customers uncomfortable with all your huffin’ and puffin’,” he whispers into your ear, a light chuckle falling out with his words. Amused by your attitude this time instead of ticked off. “If ye want, I could take ye ta the back room ta loosen ye up a bit. Make your day a little better. Dinnae think anybody will even notice if we dip away for a bit—’sides management will probably send me a gift basket if ye come back perky after a good shag.”

You shrug him off to go clock out, ignoring the way he chuckles as you storm off. No one knows if you go home and wear out the battery in your vibrator while thinking about Johnny’s words. Thinking about Johnny guiding you to his truck with a palm flat on your low back, pinkie teasing just under the waistband of your pants, before laying you out across the backseat and climbing on top of you.

You come when you think about how he’d have to keep the door open to fuck you in his car.

Unfortunately, you’re more than familiar with his sweet side as well. 

On your birthday, he comes in early with a sheet cake and organizes the employees so that the breakroom is dark when you come in. The entire staff is there when you switch on the lights, shouting your name and happy birthday, decked out in party hats and blowing into noisemakers.

It catches you off guard. Hits you right in the solar plexus and leaves you winded. You stand in the middle of the room like you’re under a spotlight and that spotlight is Johnny’s stare burning a hole in your head. For once, it doesn’t rankle. It leaves you feeling light, feathery, like floating down to earth. A coworker hands you a noisemaker and you smile until your eyes crinkle when you blow into it. 

You’re in a good enough mood that you don’t argue when he insists on sitting beside you. He got you the cake after all. Maybe it’s the least he deserves. Your goodwill lasts until Johnny tries to feed you a piece of cake with his fork; he winds up getting cake smushed all over your cheek when you turn your head away. 

“Johnny, ‘m not a baby,” you complain, wrinkling your nose when cake and icing slide down your face. “I can feed myself. This is so gross.”

“Shucks, hen, lemme get that. Shouldnae have turned your head,” Johnny curses, leaning over to scoop it off with his fingers. He holds them out to you, an offering. “Here ye go, kitty.”

You stare, horrified, until he shrugs like ‘suit yourself’ and pops them into his own mouth. Then drags the same spit covered fingers over your cheek again to keep cleaning you up. 

You can tell that it’s hopeless to complain by the way your coworkers giggle and gossip, eyes drawn to the two of you. Maybe it would be better if you were transferred. You only have so many ‘I’m not his work wife’s left in you. Something’s bound to give. You have a sneaking suspicion that it’s going to be you. 

On the walk to your car after your shift, which Johnny insists on doing like he does every time the two of you work a closing shift together, he jokingly asks if you’ve gotten your birthday spanks. He says it in that same awkward joking tone, just a bit too excited, staring at you too eagerly. Unblinking. Tuts his tongue when you tell him you’ve never heard of that before. 

You jolt and squeak at the pop on your ass when he insists on opening the door to your car and helping you in. The betrayed look you shoot him hardly penetrates through his shit-eating grin. 

“See ye tomorrow, kitty,” Johnny calls out, walking backwards away from you to where his truck is parked just a few spots away from yours. You think he would’ve parked right next to you if you hadn’t chosen a spot conveniently between two other cars. “More where that came from.”

Your hands shake against the steering wheel your whole drive home. Dreading tomorrow’s shift.

[write-tama]

"to live with the milkman."

╰┈➤ francis mosses (the milkman) x doorman!reader

sypnosis ; reader is worried because francis hasnt been seen in a week. they decide to pay francis' apartment a little visit..

containing! ; lois stilinksy, working as doorman, gender neutral pronouns, use of y/n, francis being a little sick and out of uniform, francis and reader eat mac n cheese tg :3

authors note ; this is lowkey a slowburn-- i didnt mean to write so much D: i started writing yesterday morning and just finished this morning LOL but ya its very just wholesome and soft ^^

4.12.24 | 2.7k words

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

As a doorman, you realize a pattern of people would often come and go through the apartment. You know who goes to work in the morning and who comes home in the afternoon, and you know what days they typically go out and days where they don’t.

So, I'm not totally creepy when I say I've noticed a shift in Francis’ schedule, right? He’s not one to typically go out unless he has work in the morning— which is usually Tuesday through Friday, but lately, I haven’t seen him all week.

Nothing but the worst truly went through my mind. He could’ve been eaten by a doppel, or worse, was mistaken for a doppel and was exterminated on sight! These anxious feelings went through my head as I nervously clicked my pen. I glanced at today’s list again, as if magically waiting for his name and picture to show up on the piece of paper.

click, click, click.

Through the office window, I heard the subtle steps of heels clicking against the worn tiles. Sighing, I sat up straight and folded my hands in front of desk, forcing my anxious thoughts to the back of my head in order to continue doing my job. I looked up to meet the gaze of thick magenta bangs with eyes barely visible I sort of wonder how she even navigates through her surroundings.

“Good afternoon.” She greeted, her thick lips curling into a polite smile. I nod as I took her ID and entry request through the letter box, scanning through the documents for any misspellings or misinformation. As I carefully examined the print, I notice Lois’ lips pursing into a curious point.

“You looked troubled, sweetheart.” She noted. “Is everything alright? Besides work-stress that is.”

I sighed a little, placing her card down before looking through today’s list. I checked off Lois’ picture before turning to my request checklist. “Yeah, I just.. I don’t know. Have you heard from Francis recently?” I asked, not even masking the worried tone in my voice. Lois hummed a little, as if thinking about the last time she has even seen the man.

“The last time I saw him, he looked extremely tired. Like more tired than usual. I think he was just coming home from work? He was coughing and sniffling a lot.” She recalled. “Poor boy.. He must’ve been sick for a while.” Lois shook her head. With her words I felt like a pressure had been released from my chest. Oh, good, so there is a chance he’s alive, I thought to myself. I slid back her ID and smiled.

“Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry, I just get worried knowing that a neighbor could’ve been killed by a doppel or any force of nature of that matter.” I lightly chuckled. Lois smiled, taking her ID before looking at me.

“You should talk to him. I’m sure he could use the company right now.” Lois suggested, but through that grin I could see that teasing smile.

I sighed a little, a little grin starting to form on my face. “C’mon, Lois, that would be way too embarrassing!” I exclaimed, crossing my arms in my chair. Lois lightly giggled, raising a white glove to stiffle her laughs.

“Oh, it won’t hurt, honestly! You never know what could happen~” she said, all singy-songy. I rolled my eyes before pressing the unlock button.

“Yeah, yeah. The door’s right there.” I sarcastically replied, a big grin on my face.

“Just think about it!” She called out as she walked through the door. I shook my head in amusement, listening to the door click behind her. I locked the door and returned to my previous slouched position.

Maybe I should pay him a visit.

My shift ended around late evening. I packed my bag and slid on my cardigan before locking the door behind me and hiding the key in a place only the next doorman would be able to find it. As I walked towards the exit of the building, I thought about what Lois had said earlier about paying him a visit. I never even really attempted to go past the lobby area of the apartment building. I had no purpose to anyway. And plus, it would’ve been a lengthy process to even request a visitor’s pass due to the security. I looked over to the doorman’s office, realizing that as of now, no one is on duty. Would it be morally wrong to go against the rules of the literal job I worked in?

Maybe.

But maybe my curiosity and anxiety could take over just for this one moment.

I walked back to the doorman’s office and unlocked the door. I placed the key back in its original hiding place before entering. I made sure to lock the door behind me before taking a look around the room again. Behind the doorman’s seat, there’s a door that leads to the stairway of the apartment complex. Its main purpose was to serve as a fire escape just in case of an emergency. Eagerly and swiftly, I gently pushed the door open, making sure to not make much noise. Once I walked out, I was met with the smell of old concrete and a spiral of stairs. I sighed to myself, remembering that Francis does in fact live on the third floor.

The stairs felt endless as my shoes clicked on the hard concrete. Fortunately, I only had to take a break only two times. I was finally at the end of the stairs, my legs tired from the endless climbly. I pushed the door open and was greeted with a typical carpeted hallway with blinding yellow-white lights that nearly burned my eyes. I sighed before trailing through the doors, looking at each number plate in order to locate the right room.

“Room 02, room 02..” I hummed to myself, just like how I would while scanning through files. After turning a corner, I was finally able to locate Francis’ room. I raised my fist to knock at the door, but the soft, soothing sounds of piano muffled through the wood. I stopped in my tracks, feeling as if my knock would disturb the perfect flow of the keys as I’m sure its song filled the apartment with grace. I waited for the keys’ song to slow to an end, the melody slowly fading out of the air and a sigh following its silence. I couldn’t help but smile, and sure this gave me enough proof that Francis was in fact still alive, but.. Something about his skills on the piano made me even more intrigued by the man.

I gently knocked with my knuckles, but making sure I was firm enough for the knocks to even be heard. From inside, I heard a chair scrape against wooden floorboard before footsteps steadily approaching me. A couple locks were undone before the squeak of the door filled my ears. I looked up and there Francis was— his eyebags were relatively darker and he was still in sleep attire with a baggy set of pajama pants and a fitting white tee.

“Oh— uh, (y/n)—” he said a little shocked to see me. I smiled a little, tilting my head at him.

“You shouldn’t have opened your door so fast. I could’ve been a doppel, y’know?” I advised. I heard him suck air through his teeth as he realized his rookie mistake.

“Mmm.. I’m sorry..” He mumbled, making me raise an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to apologize to me.” I said, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ve been worried about you since I haven’t seen you in a while. I just.. Wanted to check if you were okay.”

Francis raised his eyebrows in surprise. It made me wonder if anyone else but me paid him a visit due to his absence. We lingered in silence for a minute. he stared down at me as I stared up at him.

“..May I be invited in?” I requested, breaking the silence. Francis blinked his eyes a little, as if he had been lost in thought previously.

“Mmm.. ID and entry request, please?” Francis teased, smiling a little. I scoffed, immediately catching on to his wittiness.

“Ha ha, very funny, Mr. Mosses.” I sarcastically replied, rolling my eyes. His grin grew wider, clearly amused by reaction. He stepped aside from the door, allowing me to enter. I walked in, bag still clutched to my side as I took a look around the apartment.

It was humble but quaint space. The ceiling lights were off and frankly looked like they were never used, however, his lamps illuminated a soft warm orange on his furniture. He had a small box TV and dull red couch with a small round coffee table planted in the middle. Huddled in a corner was his old piano he must've been playing earlier. Francis closed the door behind me, making sure to lock it as well. “Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess.” He apologized, quickly rushing to his couch where clothes scattered over the armrests. He went down a small hallway I assumed to be where his bathroom and bedroom was. I took off my shoes and placed my bag on the table that sat next to the door before sitting myself on the couch.

I sighed a little, almost drowning into the soft pillows. It almost made me question why he would be struggling with sleep if he has a couch as comfortable as this. I could see a bit of his kitchen from sitting on his couch. It was a decent size with counters on one side and the appliances on the other. It seemed like he had something on the stove cooking as well.

Francis walked in shortly after and took his seat on other end of the couch, keeping a distance between the two of us. I brought my knees to my chest while hugging his couch pillows. I looked at him for a bit, trying to figure out myself as to why he hasn’t been out recently. Not only was his dark circles were more apparent, his hair was a little longer and messier. He looked paler than usual as well. Francis turned to me, a curious look on his face.

“Is it apparent..?” Francis asked. I furrowed my eyebrows, a little confused on what he meant.

“Hm?” I hummed in response.

“That I’m coming down with something.” He chuckled slightly. I shrugged a little, leaning back on the couch cushions.

“I mean.. Your hair is messier.” I smiled, admiring the frizz on the top of his head. Francis quickly glanced up before running his fingers through his hair.

“It’s not that messy..” He sighed.

“Well, I wouldn’t know. You always got that milkman hat on the top of your head.” I laughed. I glanced over to the kitchen again, realizing that steam was coming through the glass lid. “I think you might want to get that.” I suggested, nodding my head towards the stove. He hummed a little before getting off of the couch and heading towards the kitchen. I watched as he reached the top of the cabinets, stretching up with ease. I couldn’t help but stare at his broad shoulders to his slim waist defined by his white shirt.

“Hey, I made mac n’ cheese if you’d like a bowl.” He offered, his voice immediately cutting through my daze.

“Oh— uh, yeah of course. I was about to get dinner after I got off my shift but here I am.” I chuckled. He nodded before grabbing another platter to make my own plate. I sat patiently on the couch before noticing the remote on the coffee table. “Hey, can I turn on the TV?” I asked.

“Hm?” Francis hummed from the kitchen. “Mmm.. Sure. I don’t mind.” He shrugged before turning back to his task.

Something about this felt so.. Safe.. And homely. I felt comfortable, despite me never even being in Francis’ apartment before. It felt familiar, and I couldn’t lie to myself and say that this is the most peace I’ve felt since the news of doppelgangers came out. I picked up the TV remote and flicked it on, browsing through the channels before find a movie we could idly have in the background.

Francis came out of the kitchen, holding two bowls with forks in each. This time, he took his seat much closer to me before placing my bowl on the coffee table. “Thank you.” I politely nodded. I took the bowl and started to eat. Honestly, to my surprise, the food was actually pretty good for a man who worked day and night. I was enjoying the comfortable silence between the two of us as we enjoyed our dinner together— something I barely saw myself seeing tonight.

“Hey.. (y/n)?” Francis mumbled quietly.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I replied, taking another scoop of the creamy mac n’ cheese to shove in my mouth.

“Why did you.. Come here?”

Something about that question made my heart skip a little. Why did I come here? I mean— I came here to make sure he was okay. That’s my job as doorman. To make sure all of the neighbors are safe and alive. But even when I heard him through the door, clearly shown to me that he is still breathing, I stuck around anyway.

Why did I come here?

“Well— I uh..” I trailed off a little, sort of lost to where I should even begin. “I was just worried about you. That is my job, no?” I said, clearing my throat. I kept my eyes on the screen, a little embarrassed to even face him.

“Mmm.. I don’t entirely believe that.” He hummed. “You could’ve called.”

Oh, fuck, yeah no— he’s right.

Ugh, Lois!

You set me up!

“That’s true..” I chuckled. “I guess you caught me.”

“Mmm..” He mumbled. He placed his now empty dinner on the table before folding his hands in his lap. “So..?”

I took a deep breath, feeling my heart beat fast inside my chest and a warmth creeping up my whole body. I placed my bowl onto the coffee table as well, and finally mustered the courage to look at him in his eyes.

“Francis..” I mumbled. He leaned in a little closer, as if he wanted to lean into my words and trusted them to embrace him.

“I.. I just.. I think I like you..” I trailed out. My head felt cloudy as a tingling sensation danced all over my skin, feeling like a little kid during recess confessing to her elementary school crush. “I've liked you.. Ever since we met. I never really said anything because I felt like you weren't necessarily interested in a relationship.. But Lois and Rafttellyn would always point out how you would look at me and I just—!”

A strong hand placed firmly on my cheek— so cold against my blushing face— pulled me in to meet those soft lips of his. I was completely silenced and wide eyed, but I knew what he was telling me. Everything in those pink lips told me that everything was going to be okay, and he liked me just as much..

I fluttered my eyes closed, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling myself closer to his chest. The TV buzzed in front of us, sputtering incoherent actors cracking jokes and delivering their lines. Our finished bowls of dinner were scattered on the table, but it was easy to tell the food was delicious for no piece of macaroni was left unnoticed. I pressed harder against his lips, letting the thought of breathing slip my mind.

If this is what it's like to live with him—

To spend our evenings chatting

Eating dinner on his couch

Watching TV while enjoying each other's presence

Then maybe I could get used to this.

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

tagging ; @crybabies-heart @shypizzaperson @your-local-oc-maker @spearsillustration @mochi46106 @seraphlin @glxyaaandromeda (some ppl i tagged either bc they followed me on my old acc and just some ppl who interacted with my past content and just thought they would be interested in this fic :3

thank you so much for reading and reposts and likes are always so, so appreciated <3

[loveinhawkins]

ao3

Eddie falls asleep in the back of the RV. Steve watches it happen in stages, after the stop at The War Zone—driving a little further out for a food shop, away from prying eyes.

He announces that the coast is clear when the roads become reassuringly empty. For the first time in days, he relaxes into the rhythm of driving: he’s triple-checked that no-one’s tailing them, and if it weren’t for the hastily bought weapons, he could almost pretend that…

He glances at the rearview mirror, sensing movement. It’s Eddie, standing up from where he’d been huddled against the back of Steve’s seat. He looks like he’s relishing the freedom to stretch his legs—Steve thinks, with a pang, that he’s probably sick of hiding—and takes his time on his way to the back seat.

Keeps his balance for the most part, only stumbles once, briefly latches onto Robin’s shoulder with a sheepish smile, says something like, “Role reversal, Buckley,” and she laughs.

He settles with the kids in the back. Clearly tries to give them the most space, folding his legs awkwardly in the corner almost like he’s already back to hiding again, but they won’t let him; Dustin wiggles along to create more room, and Erica pins Eddie with a look—the most Steve can make out is, “You look like a…”, but whatever she says makes Eddie snort, then smile with obvious affection.

The next time Steve looks to find Eddie’s reflection, he’s relaxed into his seat, legs stretched out in front, the edge of one sneaker bouncing up and down absent-mindedly—but growing slower and slower.

He’s talking to Lucas, the speech drowned out by the RV engine; Steve can still see how it makes Lucas relax in turn, even giggle, which has been an all too rare occurrence lately. How Max, despite carrying the heaviness of the Walkman, looks on with a spark in her eyes.

If Steve had to guess, he’d say that Eddie doesn’t mean to fall asleep. Maybe it’s the motion of the RV or the angle of the sun through the windows. Maybe it’s just that he finally feels safe.

Either way, his blinks get longer and longer, and then he’s drifted off, out completely, and Steve watches with something close to pride as the kids all get off the bench in silent agreement—Max confidently lifting Eddie’s legs and swinging them up onto the cushions like it’s second nature. He barely stirs, head nodding a little until he’s lying down properly.

Steve splits the last of his cash with Nancy on the food. They make a trio with Robin for heading to the store, the kids on what they’ve dubbed ‘Eddie watch’ and what Steve has dubbed, “Yeah, I’ve left it running—that still means no driving unless, like—actually no, I’m not even gonna—yeah, Dustin, I’ll get you more Pringles, Jesus Christ.”

And because he’s weak, he still ends up caving to Max’s loophole that yes, if demodogs and/or bats and/or people that just look at them funny show up, she’s got permission to floor it; he’s not gonna tell her he’d scoped the place out well before he’d parked.

Ten minutes later, laden with bags, Nancy says, “We could use somewhere with more space. For…”

She indicates the supplies of a more grim variety than snacks.

Steve thinks about it, then exhales with a little laugh. “Yeah, I’ve got somewhere.”

Robin eyes him curiously. It’s like she’s heard through the laugh, can somehow feel the thing that wells up in the back of his throat—only for a second; he’s used to pushing it back.

She squeezes his shoulder. He pats the back of her hand before driving away. Sometimes words spill out between them, ever flowing. Sometimes they don’t need words at all.

There’s a strange kind of thrill in feeling the tires go right over the grass. Feels bigger than what it is—like something’s finally been unearthed.

They’re all quiet as the group starts to filter outside. Steve looks over his shoulder: Eddie is still fast asleep. His lips move every so often, drowsy half-formed words.

Steve wonders what he’s dreaming about. He hopes it’s something good.

He lets everyone go in front of him—Robin snatches a bag of food out of Dustin’s hands, whispering fondly, “That one’s mine, you animal.”

Nancy hesitates just outside, then turns back into the RV to sit on the step.

“It’s just…” She tilts her head to the side with meaning. “I don’t think he should wake up alone, you know?”

Steve nods. “Yeah, me too.”

And that’s how they end up sat together, half in the RV and half outside. Nancy dangles her feet above the grass—she could reach it, of course, but it seems deliberate, like she’s enjoying the breeze.

Or trying to, at any rate: there’s still a restlessness to her, an anxious pinch to her face, like she’s one step away from jumping to her feet and—

Steve squeezes her knee—hears the way she exhales, like she’s finally caught her breath.

“Food first,” Steve says gently.

She nods belatedly, like the words take a little while longer to reach her. “Food first.” She rustles through one of the bags, brings out something wrapped in foil. “Robin said this is for you…?”

Steve chuckles. It’s a sesame bagel: bacon, egg, and cheese.

He gives half to Nancy.

They eat in companionable silence—just listening to the breeze and the occasional shout of laughter: Robin’s formed a circle with everyone up ahead, a chaotic game of duck, duck, goose, which is a ridiculous choice because her run is ridiculous, and Steve feels his cheeks ache with a smile at the grass stains already on her shirt, as Dustin and Lucas pull her down in some kind of duck-goose uprising, and Max gets Erica up on her shoulders, joining the fray; and underneath it all, he can hear Eddie hum slightly in his sleep, but it’s not a noise of distress—like he knows subconsciously that he isn’t alone.

“Here,” Nancy says.

When Steve turns to her, she’s got a packet of chips open between them. Salt and vinegar.

He doesn’t mean to say it out loud, but—

“You remembered,” he says through a rush of affection; it hits him square in the chest.

Nancy smiles. “Can never forget you and Mike fighting for the last packet.”

Steve knocks their knees together. “Yeah, he fought dirty.”

They laugh together, hushed but heartfelt.

There’s a streak of ketchup across Nancy’s face that she hasn’t bothered wiping away. She looks years younger somehow—looks lighter, like the food in her stomach has settled something intangible.

Her smile turns even softer, thoughtful, and warmth settles behind Steve’s eyes.

I’m sorry, he thinks. I’m sorry I couldn’t be what…

You never deserved to hurt.

“Did you get changed in the dark?” Nancy says, eyes bright with mirth.

It’s so sudden that it startles Steve right out of his thoughts, a welling emotion halted.

“Excuse me, Nancy Wheeler?” he says with a faint grin.

“Steve Harrington,” Nancy returns teasingly. She ruffles a hand through the back of his hair with easy affection, “There. That’s more like it.”

“Am I presentable now?”

“Oh, you’ll do.”

She rests her chin in her hand, just considers him—but it’s a gentle kind of look. Almost like they’re back in English class, and he’s just answered a question without stumbling over his interpretation, and he glances across to her desk, finds her watching him with pride.

“You suited the denim,” she says sincerely. Mimes how he’d shrugged into Eddie’s vest.

Steve feels touched in a way that he can’t fully place, like she’s said something else. Maybe she has.

“Thanks,” he says.

They both look over to the field at a cry of victory. Dustin’s found the stash of 3 Musketeers, holding it aloft like he’s just won a science trophy.

“Hey,” Nancy calls, laughing, “at least one of those is mine!”

Steve can feel her shift, about to stand, and impulsively, he says, “Nance, wait.”

She’s stood already in the split second it took for him to speak, but she turns back.

Steve stands up. Hugs her.

He tries to put all he doesn’t know how to say into it; he does his best, pressing a chaste kiss to her temple. Thinks of how he swept her into an embrace next to the school lockers, her surprised shout of laughter, if you can be this for her, she’ll be happy, you’ll be…

And maybe she’s heard some of it, because her hold tightens around him, like she’s saying, you never deserved any of it, either.

She pulls back. Claps his shoulders to make him sit back down, and they both giggle slightly, both vulnerable. Nancy’s eyes are shining at the corners. But Steve knows they’re the good kind of tears.

He feels them, too.

Nancy nods, smiling wide, blinking in quick succession before the moment’s gone.

He nods back.

And then she’s running over to Dustin, and it almost looks like she’s flying, like she’s sixteen years old again, and nothing ever…

Steve has to close his eyes for just a second. Breathes through it.

Minutes pass before he catches a change in Eddie’s breathing—hears him shift and sigh as he stretches.

Steve tilts backwards, just enough to see Eddie slowly drifting awake on the bench.

“Hey,” Steve says as soft as he can, so Eddie can go back to sleep if he wants; so it can just be part of a dream.

For a moment, it looks like that’s exactly what Eddie will do. But then his eyes find Steve’s, and they light up in recognition.

And he smiles. Sits up.

“Shit, did I really…?” The rest of the question’s lost to a yawn, and he stretches again, rubs a hand across his face to wake himself up.

“Yup,” Steve says. There’s one last bag by his feet, which he picks up to put in Eddie’s view. “This has got your name on it, man.”

Eddie sits down next to him. Steve shifts closer as he hands the bag over, feels the gentle press of Eddie against his side, the warmth left over from sleep.

Eddie whistles at the assortment of food. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Yeah, no—like, thank Dustin, not me.”

Dustin had rattled off a list of Eddie’s favourites—“Actual food this time, Dustin, he’s not surviving on just cereal, it’s depressing,”—which Steve had written hastily on the back of his hand.

He knows that Eddie’s seen the evidence of the list on his skin, faded as it is from the dying pen he’d used, because he smiles when he says, “Mm-hmm, I will,” like they’re sharing a secret; and then he looks off into the distance, squinting against the sun with a hand over his eyes, barks a laugh. “Besides, he looks kinda busy, uh… I don’t actually know what he’s doing. Killing Buckley, maybe?”

Robin’s joking yell punctuates Eddie’s words; it looks like she’s somehow recruited Lucas over to her side, because Dustin’s trying to flatten the pair of them; Erica’s got Dustin’s thinking cap on backwards, while Max shouts, “That’s a foul!”; Nancy’s sat crosslegged, eating candy and throwing out words of amused encouragement.

Eddie chuckles so fondly. He eats some of his share, then sighs with contentment. He stands but doesn’t go far at all, drifts over to a patch of ground like he’s drawn to it. Sits down. Runs his hands through the blades of grass and flowers, even the weeds; it makes Steve smile.

He follows.

They sit close to each other almost like they’re still sharing the step, even though there’s more than enough room to…

Eddie keeps watching the roughhousing. His eyes crinkle at the corners. He looks… happy.

He sighs again, leaning back a little, “This is nice. Who’s idea was it to come here?”

“Nancy’s, really,” Steve says.

But he can tell that Eddie notices the evasion—there’s a barely perceptible twitch of his eyebrow as he listens. He’s getting almost scarily good at it, Steve thinks, but it’s not done in an intimidating way; it’s not like Eddie wants to catch him out in something. It’s more like he… just wants to know. Like he cares.

“But you knew a spot?” Eddie prompts.

“Yeah, I…”

Steve could still avoid it—could just say carelessly, ‘cause we drove past it, duh, and Eddie would let it drop, he knows he would. But…

“I came here when I was a kid. Like, years ago. It was summer, and I think the car broke down or something? So we had to wait for…” Steve shrugs, but it’s just movement for the sake of it, trying to conceal the way his throat’s tightening in slow increments. “It was… I liked it,” he adds. Nods towards the kids. “I thought they might like it, too.” He tries to laugh, “Guess that’s kinda stupid to—”

“I think it’s sweet,” Eddie interrupts firmly. “This place, it’s…” He smiles at Max’s squeal, Lucas lifting her up in a bridal carry. “It’s perfect, Steve.”

Steve tries to smile, because it is perfect, but that suddenly makes it hurt all the more. He’s gripped by a fierce, desperate urge to seize the weapons and burn them, to just let everyone fucking rest, to tell them they don’t have to do it anymore, they never have to—

“Steve,” Eddie says, soft, dismayed—sitting up and touching Steve’s hand where it rests in the grass, so delicately, so kind—

Steve swallows; he must not have pushed it all back in time. He doesn’t want to know what his face looks like, but he can guess, can feel the telltale burn in his eyes—and wavers on the brink. Almost falls. But he catches himself, only just, and when he’s forced to quickly swipe at his eyes with the back of his hand, he reasons that it’s okay. Only Eddie can see.

Still, he should—

“Sorry,” he waves a hand, tries to laugh at himself again, “just ignore me.”

When Eddie smiles, it looks as if he’s only doing it because he’s taking his lead from Steve. His eyes speak for him—like he’s thinking, you’re breaking my heart.

“Ignore you? Shit, man, that’s hard. Have you seen you?”

It’s said with a ridiculous amount of theatrics—so obviously done to lift Steve’s mood. But there’s a note of sincerity that Steve can hear above everything; Eddie isn’t hiding it.

Perhaps he doesn’t need to, either.

“I’m more than just a pretty face, Munson.”

He expects Eddie to laugh. And though he does, it’s quieter than he’d expected, and he says, “Oh, I know. Trust me.” He’s looking at the kids as he speaks. “They’ll be okay, you know.” He doesn’t say it like a platitude. He says it like a promise. “Wheeler, Buckley… me. We have them, too.”

And Steve doesn’t know how Eddie could ever accuse himself of cowardice. God, if you could only hear yourself, he thinks.

“I don’t want—I know. I know you do. I just—just wish—”

His voice fails him.

Eddie tilts his hand, palm up. Steve could act like he’d never seen it all. It’d be easy.

He takes Eddie’s hand. Breathes, and tries again.

“I just wish we didn’t have to—”

It’s as far as he can manage.

Eddie squeezes his hand. Murmurs, very gently, like a memory, “And so do all who live to see such times.”

Steve doesn’t need to ask. He can feel the weight of it through the words alone. Focuses on Eddie’s touch, the way his fingertips brush against Steve’s knuckles, over and over.

And then Steve lets go, but not before squeezing Eddie’s hand in return. Twice. He doesn’t know Morse code, but he hopes he’s understood.

He watches the kids play again. Glances over to the side when he feels another touch, Eddie’s shoulder briefly skimming his. This time he can tell it’s accidental; Eddie’s swaying a little where he sits.

“Shit, sorry. It’s the sun, it’s,” he yawns, “it’s making me…”

Steve’s reminded of the boathouse; of Eddie’s sunken face at Skull Rock.

“You’re just exhausted, Eddie,” he says.

He stands, briefly places his hands on Eddie’s forearms, tries to shield him from the worst of the vertigo. He feels Eddie jump beneath his touch, a forcible jolt back from the edge of sleep. Visceral.

Steve’s chest hurts.

“Wait there,” he says. “I’ll be right back. Hey, try to not fall asleep just yet, ‘kay?”

“M’not,” Eddie says, not very convincingly.

When Steve returns with a pillow from the RV, Eddie is lying in the grass, flat on his back. One hand floats in front of his face, fingers curling like he’s playing guitar chords—like he’s doing it to keep himself awake.

“Dude, that can’t be comfortable,” Steve says. He bends down, taps Eddie on the forehead, which makes Eddie blink slowly, looking at him upside down. “Can I…?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Eddie says softly. It sounds like I trust you.

Gently, Steve cups the back of Eddie’s head, moves it up ever so slightly and puts the pillow in between him and the ground. Eddie settles onto it with a sigh.

Steve moves away, sits back down; Eddie turns to lie on his side, facing him. His cheek presses into the pillow, one leg bending a little, like this is how he lies in bed; there’s a fragile vulnerability to the sight.

The sun draws attention to the grass in his hair. The slightest trace of freckles underneath his eyes; they’ll come out more in summer, Steve finds himself thinking. He wants to be there to see it.

It was summer when he first thought a boy was pretty. That day the car broke down, but his dad was laughing, making the most of it; he’d walked and walked to buy ice-cream and returned victorious to the field, where Steve was waiting with his mom.

They weren’t the only families there—the spot had been much busier years ago: people using it as a pit stop on road trips, Hawkins locals mixed in with folks from out of town, so it felt like the whole world was to be found here, stretching out before them in the grass.

Steve had seen the boy playing tag—it was over in barely a flash, but he still remembers how he held his breath when their eyes met, without understanding why.

He’s pretty, he’d thought, it was the only word he had for it—an instinct from his mom teaching him words, bouncing him on her hip, oh, Steve, look at the pretty flowers.

He’d known even then it was a thought he couldn’t share—like how a child comes to know that they’re not to touch a hot stove.

He’s pretty.

Steve could tell himself that he doesn’t know why he’s remembering it now. But it would be a lie.

Eddie’s tugging idly at the grass, but his hand keeps going slack, twitching with oncoming sleep.

“You know how t’whistle with ‘em?” he asks clumsily.

His eyes are closed. Steve stills his hand, slips a blade of grass out from his loose hold.

“No,” he says, drags it through his teeth like he’ll miraculously make it whistle just by doing that.

Nothing happens, of course; the grass tastes just a little sweet on his tongue. He takes it out from in between his lips and lets it go, to be lost on the wind.

When the taste dissipates, he misses it.

“Yeah, me neither,” Eddie says, amused. His voice is lilting with exhaustion. “My uncle tried to teach me once, but I couldn’t… maybe ‘cause… still had some of my baby teeth… maybe that makes it harder?”

“Maybe,” Steve agrees quietly. He picks some grass out of Eddie’s hair, as lightly as he can. “I’ll ask him for some tips.”

Eddie smiles at that. “He’ll like you,” he says.

He’s half-asleep, Steve reminds himself. He hardly knows what he’s saying.

But he can’t help feeling pleased at the thought.

“Oh, yeah? You think so?”

“Mm-hmm. He likes…” Eddie yawns. “Likes everyone I like. And I… I really like you.”

It’s said so easily. Like it’s simple.

Maybe it could be. Just this once.

Steve feels emotion creeping up his throat, resting heavy on his tongue. This time, he doesn’t push it back; he speaks through it.

“I really like you, too,” he whispers.

Eddie hums sweetly, like he’s heard even when almost all the way to dreaming. “Think there’s a trick to it,” he mumbles, and Steve realises he’s talking about whistling again, lost to a childhood memory.

Stay there, Eddie. Rest.

“A trick?” Steve says in hushed tones.

“Yeah, I… remember he’d… he’d say…”

Eddie falls asleep mid-sentence.

Steve watches him. Angles his shoulder to create shade, shielding him from the sun.

He looks over at the kids: they’re playing tag with Robin now, Nancy joining in—a little quieter, like maybe they’d seen…

If he unfocuses his eyes just slightly, he can almost see his dad coming over the hill with the tubs of ice-cream. His mom smiling, sunburn on her shoulder, and Steve hit with a wave of inexplicable sadness, like he already knew, she’ll never be this happy again.

Eddie sighs in his sleep.

Steve feels a subtle change in the sun on his skin, the afternoon dying.

Stay, he thinks. Mouths it with childish hope, stay, like he’s still the boy who fell asleep right here, in between his parents, wanting the day to stretch on and on—the one who couldn’t outrun the feeling, even then, that he was coming to the end of something.

[novy2sirius]

LOVE ASTRO NOTES

— volume one

Navigation: My directory // Tutorials

₊˚⊹ ᰔ I personally consider Neptune to be a love planet because it’s the higher octave of Venus and also because it represents fascination, compassion, and intense spiritual connections. Some people view this as bad for love because of it representing delusion but I think in order to manifest good things into your life and relationships you must have some level of delusion occurring. It’s why Neptune represents both manifestation and delusion. Planets topics typically coincide

₊˚⊹ ᰔ 8th house stelliums have a natural allure that draws everyone in and makes people addicted to being around them. Specifically the planets signs involved (Example: if you have an 8h stellium with the sun, moon, and mercury you will attract lots of leo, cancer, gemini, and virgo placements). 8h planets show who is most seduced, obsessed, and infatuated with us

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Venus in the 8th house people will love the darkest parts of you and the most vibrant parts of you. They wanna know all the horrible things you’ve done and the good things you’ve done. They will love you regardless because they become that infatuated with their partners that there’s nothing that could make them hate them

₊˚⊹ ᰔ People with Saturn in the 7th house don’t always marry late sometimes they just have age gaps in their relationships or marry someone that has Saturn-like qualities/Capricorn or Aquarius placements

₊˚⊹ ᰔ People with strong Venus to Chiron aspects can struggle a lot with their love life i’ve noticed. They tend to get divorced at least once in their life unless there’s placements or multiple aspects contradicting this energy

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Sometimes it doesn’t matter how good your synastry or composite chart looks with a person you’re in love with. If someone takes on a bunch of challenging energy from their chart and is at a low vibration/low point in their life then the relationship won’t last regardless. This is why i always say there is no “perfect synastry/composite charts”. I also don’t believe having a ton of “challenging aspects” (squares, oppositions, and sometimes conjunctions depending on the traits taken on) will make a relationship doomed to end. These only show problem areas or tension/confusion that can be worked through and being rewards (similar to Saturnian energy)

₊˚⊹ ᰔ A lot of oppositions in synastry indicates twin flames. This is because the universe is hypothetically yin yang, so naturally opposite signs will always attract. The oppositions aren’t complete opposites though (and yes i know the name of the aspect can be misleading) they do have differences, but are quite similar in their core as well as mirrors of each other in a way. Example: Opposite signs Gemini and Sagittarius are both energetic, curious, and intelligent but still have qualities that differ at the same time

₊˚⊹ ᰔ People view Saturn as something scary in composite charts and synastry and tend to forget that Saturn isn’t just the planet of challenges but also the planet of endurance and longevity. Many people in long term relationships (of all kinds) will have strong Saturn synastry or prominent Saturn energy in composite; Example: Capricorn stelliums, Aquarius stelliums, Saturn in the 1st house, etc (in composite). Sure Saturn can show obstacles in a relationship in composite/synastry, but it also shows areas where you both endure hardships and can show whether a relationship is likely to last long term

₊˚⊹ ᰔ An 11th house stellium in composite charts can indicate soulmates. This is because due to derivative astrology this house represents soulmates. It’s often looked at as a friendship placement but people forget this is also the house of soulmates, desire, and companionship

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Having Fama synastry with your partner can mean you are likely to gain more popularity when around them (Example: Hailey Bieber has a Pisces Fama and didn’t get famous from Justin Bieber but did blow up a lot more when she started dating him and he has a Pisces stellium)

₊˚⊹ ᰔ The Groom and Briede asteroid can tell if you’ll marry someone or not. The method I use has never failed for anyone i’ve tried it on. I made a previous post about it if you want more information — 🌷

₊˚⊹ ᰔ The Klytia asteroid (73) can tell if there is unrequited love in synastry. Example: Klytia conjunct Venus synastry can indicate that the Klytia person has unreturned love for the Venus person — of course this can be counteracted by opposing energies such as a strong moon to venus aspect

₊˚⊹ ᰔ The Valentine asteroid (447) in the 1st/7th house in composite charts can indicate being each other’s true loves. Even if you broke up this would be a relationship you never forgot and that stuck with you forever. With this placement in composite you would do absolutely anything for each other and sacrifice anything for one another

₊˚⊹ ᰔ The Yosakoi asteroid (10547) can tell about forbidden love in synastry and composite charts. Example: if you have yosakoi in the 4th house in a composite chart with someone it can mean your family tries to keep you away from each other and doesn’t approve of your relationship

[chastiefoul]

regret | alhaitham

a/n: a very messy drabble based on some idea that popped into my head. basically about a y/n who's very in touch with their feelings vs alhaitham handling those feelings (to nobody's surprise, it didn't end well)

tags: angstyyy

part 2 here

1.5k words

to say that you get along with alhaitham would be a stretch.

anyone would agree that your interactions consisted only of you always pestering him and alhaitham barely tolerating it. this causes amusement but also worries, you both being the polar opposites and all.

the arrogant and cold scribe versus the bright and cheery you. there’s a line, a wall if you will; that made everyone wondered, how long would the strange dynamic last before something eventually went wrong.

and it finally did.

❀

hanging out with kaveh is something of a routine, with you studying the same subject; architecture. people were always naturally drawn to you, kaveh wasn’t the exception. you both get along with each other pretty quickly, and he’s been a close friends since. you even got to know alhaitham through him.

alhaitham said once, that you both were pretty similar albeit with different words—or to quote him as he spoke with such exasperation, “archons, now there are two of them.” still however alike, he quietly also thought there’s a key difference, a very apparent contrast that he couldn’t help but notice, even he didn’t try to.

you and kaveh both were very in touch with your emotions, meaning all of your actions often solely driven by feelings. although with kaveh he wasn’t ashamed of this, always stating clearly—or unnecessarily,  if something had upset him. but you on the other hand chose to hide that displeasure, masking it with an uncertain smile, one that’s clearly forced. as though wanting to halt any further argument. that somehow infuriated alhaitham.  

everyday you would always greet him without any care in the world. even though every conversation you had with alhaitham, somehow always turned into something he had to won, that he had to have the last word. he also couldn’t figure it out himself what got him so worked up every time he talked to you.

❀

“kaveh, don’t you think alhaitham is a nice person?” one a peaceful lunch you asked. he shot you a disgusted look, as if the question had offended him. “are you in your right mind?” he quickly retorted. “well despite him looking so fed up and all that, he still talk to us, doesn’t he?” you played your food with your fork. “... and that’s why he’s ‘nice’? dear god the bar is in hell—no it’s even below the devil’s foot itself.” he sighed, really couldn’t believing his ear. what got you so infatuated with him anyway? in all honesty kaveh was having a hard time remembering if there was ever a time where alhaitham was nice to you, he only recalled your cheery attitude getting shot down by alhaitham’s apathy every single time.

wait. he knew what this is.

“you like him.” kaveh suddenly said. you couldn’t turn your head to him any quicker. “what?” you panicked. “you heard me. now i just need to hear you admitting it.” there’s a playful smile on kaveh’s face, he’s teasing. “you won’t, cause i don’t.” you said, trying hard to be calm while eating your food. “mmhm,” kaveh hummed knowingly, an annoying smirk plastered on his face. “you know what? i don’t have to listen to this, i’m leaving.” you pouted, gathering your stuff. “yes, and you know what your in-denial self should listen to instead? me.”

“shut up!”

❀

“good morning, alhaitham!” you greeted him per usual with high energy. he hummed a reply, acknowledging your presence. when you just lingered there showing no sign of leaving he sighed. “how many times do i have to tell you my office is not a playground where you can hang around however you please?” he asked, preparing to sort out the documents from the fresh pile that just came. “i was just—nevermind that, do you need any help?” you asked with a smile. however the harmless question just tick something unpleasant inside of the scribe, he knew you meant well, truly he knew that. “do i look like someone who’s incapable of doing my own job?” he questioned in a cold tone.

“of course not! i just thought since i was a little free-“

“right. you thought, that never went well though, did it?” the viciousness was out of nowhere, you were caught off guard.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you narrowed your eyes at the harsh words—like he was saying that you were some kind of an idiot. he was always ill-tempered towards you, but he didn’t need to be this harsh over a mere offer to help.

alhaitham could feel he was being unreasonably mean, but he just couldn’t stand it. your useless kindness, your warmth, your concerns over his well-being all of these were so strange for him and his initial reaction was to reject and mock them. alhaitham felt like he was above it, it was too troublesome. he was fine living up to this point without the concerns from other people, and he was sure as hell he wasn’t going to start not being fine without it anytime soon.

 “why do you always think i need help? or do i need someone to remind me when to have my meal, or telling me to be conscious of my sleep schedule? frankly, it made me very uncomfortable,” once he started he felt like he couldn’t stop. alhaitham was mad, but if someone had asked him why he also wouldn’t be able to find the words to explain. he just was.

“well excuse me for trying to look out for my friend!” you raised your voice.

“friend? i never once thought of you that way,” he said. that shut you up real quick. the confession left your mouth agape, your chest ached. just what you are to him then, for the past half-year? but then when you think about it again, when has he exactly treat you as if you were something more of an acquaintance? in the end it was on you to assume, but it still hurts nonetheless.

in the brief silence alhaitham found the answer as to why was he so aggravated every time he talked to you.

alhaitham was blunt, he was ruthless in commenting on things that are out of place according to him. he was arrogant, often thinking that he’s above everything else, this include his way of life. a life of solitude; without the need of other people. but then you came, and his principles was shaken. alhaitham was a lot of things, but none would say that he’s fickle. yet, his rage right that second was a living proof that perhaps alhaitham was never the winner of those meaningless conversations he had with you. that truthfully, you already had him at the first good morning greeting you had given him with a bright smile.

and that is alhaitham’s hardest pill to swallow. you, a single person managed to make him almost change his entire life principles he had believed his whole life. and that’s as terrifying as it is infuriating to him. he couldn’t let you sway him more than this.

after what felt like eternity you finally responded.

“there’s a limit to being heartless, don’t you think?” you weakly said, you don’t even know what you were hoping for as a reply honestly. “there’s also should be a limit to your groundless assumptions.” he didn’t even look at you as he said these things, which perhaps good since you seriously couldn’t hold your tears anymore.

you had never believed rumors about people, as you will never know the truth unless you verify it yourself. but there, standing quietly as your tears wet the floor; there was no denying it anymore, alhaitham was indeed a heartless man who has zero empathy towards other living being.

“maybe i was wrong about you, alhaitham.” you smiled sadly.

it’s better this way.

“you were. now if you don’t mind, i have work to do.” he stated firmly, meaning: get out. which you will do gladly once you said your piece.

“it’ll do you good in the future to not be so driven by your emotions,” he still thought he was in a position to lecture you.

“yeah? and it’ll do you to good get off your high horse once in a damn while, you’re not fucking better than everybody else, alhaitham.”

“maybe so, but i certainly know i’m above acting solely over any emotion i’ve felt in the moment. i stopped doing that after i turned six, actually.” to think he'd mock you for crying.

“fuck you, alhaitham. enjoy your ‘alone’ time, i hope it stays that way forever.” you walked away from his office, swearing to yourself that it will be the last time you set foot on that damn place. alhaitham rarely see you frown, and to see you that angry and he was the cause of it.. silence got the better of him, the insides of his chest was swirling, he wasn't sure what to feel.

when your footsteps was finally out of hearing, alhaitham brought his palm to his face, his emotions getting the better of him. he saw the the hurt in your face, it was beyond saving. there’s nothing he could possibly say or do to get you to forgive him. and that was his intention of course, to get you to hate him. but he never thought he’d be ready for that.

alhaitham days quickly returned to the monotous routine. a quiet cycle, he thought he loved that. it's easy to realize that he did not anymore.

he's already so used to you. he kept waiting for you every morning, maybe if he wished hard enough you’d forget everything and just came back like nothing happened. but those days didn’t come, the memory quickly turns into anguish but more than that, regret.

aside from his ego, perhaps this regret is also something he would take to his grave.

-

part 2 maybe??

[beenbaanbuun]

non sexual dominance w/hongjoong

hongjoong is a natural leader

i mean look at him, i literally couldn’t say a more obvious thing if i tried

everything he does, he shows this natural power he has, and it just makes him so easy to follow

even if he’s being a little more on the controlling side, no one really blinks an eye at it because it’s hongjoong! it’s just comes so naturally to him

and obviously that bleeds into your relationship

it’s gentle and soft, and half the time he doesn’t even know he’s doing it, but you do

and that’s not a bad thing… at all

“you’re sat too far away,” he says to you one evening when you’re out together at a random gathering, “come closer.”

all your other friends are preoccupied by their own conversations so you don’t mind putting your full attention on your boyfriend

“i’m on a seperate chair, joong,” you roll your eyes, “obviously i’m not going to be pressed up to your side.”

he cocks a brow at your defiance before leaning a little closer to you

“i’m not asking you to be pressed to my side, i just want you to move your chair a little closer,” his voice was quiet and gentle, but there was still a commanding undertone to it

of course you scoffed at his ridiculous request, but it didn’t stop you from complying

you didn’t argue back, and just shuffled your chair a couple of inches closer to him

“good girl,” he smiles and kisses your cheek, finally having you close enough to do that

he holds your hand under the table for the rest of the night to make sure you don’t stray too far again

and then a couple of nights later you’re up late, sat at your desk with your head shoved into your laptop

hongjoong arrived at your place no more than half an hour ago - which is how you know its late - and is already tucked up in your bed

he watches you carefully as you sigh for the hundredth time

it’s clear to him that you’re stressed, as he just gets out of bed and walks over to you silently

“when was the last time you saved it?” he asks as though he’s just curious

perhaps he’s worried about you losing all the stuff you’d worked so hard on

“i’ll save it now,” you reply, and he watches as you click the little button at the top of the screen, “thanks for reminding me- hey!”

your eyes shoot up to his face as he shuts the lid of the laptop, unplugs it and picks it up

his expression is neutral as he stares down at your clearly upset one, but he makes no move to give you your laptop back

“bed,” he says, “i’m confiscating this until morning.”

“hongjoong, that’s not fair!”

he rolls his eyes

“i don’t care,” he turns and begins to walk back to his side of the bed, “you’re tired and stressed and i’m not going to sit and watch you work yourself up. get in bed, now.”

he places his laptop on his bedside table before crawling back into bed

there’s nothing to stop you taking it, but unless you want hongjoong up your ass about it for the next few days, you know not to

you don’t get up from your seat for just a few seconds, but it seems like it’s a few seconds too long for hongjoong

“if i have to come over there and carry you to bed, i won’t be happy,” he warns

and although you know he’s not being completely serious about the carrying thing, he is about being unhappy

he likes you to take good care of yourself so of course he gets a little annoyed when you don’t listen to him telling you to

so you get up and shuffle over to the bed where he’s waiting with open arms and a smile

“that wasn’t too hard was it?” you shake your head, “good, now come cuddle…”

but it isn’t just a one time thing, and hongjoong isn’t always at your apartment to tell you to look after yourself

more often than not, you end up staying up later than you should, and by the time the project is over, you’re worn down and tired

and hongjoong can see that

obviously he isn’t happy in the way you’re treating yourself (you always remind him that he’s the same way, but he always refuses to acknowledge that fact) so he takes it upon himself to monitor your recuperation

brings you food every day and either watches you eat it, or insists on feeding you himself

you complain about the latter, reminding that you’re perfectly capable of putting food in your own mouth

he just rolls his eyes and asks you to ‘let him do this’

you realise after some time that half of the reason he’s doing this is because of guilt that he wasn’t there more often to stop you overworking yourself

you have to remind him that he has a life outside of you and he can’t always be there to take care of you

“what if i just moved in?” he asks as he spoons some soup into your mouth, “that way i could monitor you…”

you swallow the soup quickly just so you can tut at him

“first of all, i don’t need monitoring,” he makes a sound to let you know he disagrees, “and secondly, you seriously want to leave jongho and wooyoung alone together?“

hongjoong agrees that would be a bad idea since both of the boys like to push the other’s buttons

“well, what if you move into the dorms?” he suggests after a moment of silence

“you don’t need to monitor me!”

he relents after a quick back and forth, finally agreeing that sure, maybe you are capable of taking care of yourself without him to help

the thought makes him a little sadder than it should, though

because he likes taking care of you…

feeding you, washing your hair in the bath, keeping a hand on you whenever you’re out together

and maybe you moving in together is less him monitoring you, and more him just being able to care for you in the way that he wants to

to be able to lead you to make the best decisions for yourself, even if he isn’t too good at doing that for himself

but although it made him said, he was fine conceding to your will this time

he likes having that dominance over you, but he’d never force you into something so big if you aren’t quite ready for it

for now he’s stick to showing up at your place unannounced and taking care of you from there

reminding you to eat when he knows you haven’t

pulling you around by your waist when he doesn’t want you too far from him

pinning you to the couch when he knows you’re too fidgety to relax properly

he’d have to happy with just that for the time being

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 3

Hello! I'm going to be posting this one straight through on Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays until it's done. I've got three more chapters completed after this one. Though there maybe a small hiccup as I might finally be moving cross country. I will keep you posted.

Here we have Steve finishing up the last of the comments and he gets one visitor too many.

Part 1 Part 2

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Steve was sitting at the table with Mike. He had shown him how to make the tassels and handed him the leather strips to just let him go to town.

He was putting in the metal rings in the armholes of Mike’s tunic for the tassels to be tied to.

After awhile Mike looked up from his work. “What made you get into sewing?”

Steve looked up at him and just stared at him a moment. “I about to say the most rich boy sentence in existence and if you laugh at me, I won’t finish your tunic.”

Mike raised an eyebrow and then scoffed. “Whatever, man. You don’t have to tell me.”

"I got fascinated by it,” Steve explained, “when my mom took me to a tailor to get a suit made for me for my first piano recital when I was eight."

Mike’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

“It was so interesting, dude,” Steve insisted. “I was more interested in it then the piano lessons.”

“Wait,” Mike said, “you play piano?” He screwed up his face confusion. “I didn’t know that.”

He shrugged. “I mean, I quit when I got to high school because it was at the same time as basketball and my dad wanted me focus on sports.”

Mike waved his hand at the tunic in Steve’s hand. “Piano wasn’t good enough for your dad, but sewing was?”

Steve barked out a bitter laugh. “There is no way in hell my parents know about this, dude.”

Mike reared back and frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I sew by hand,” Steve explained, “because there is no way in hell my mom would let me use her sewing machine.”

Mike’s frown deepened. “You did all this in secret? What the hell?”

“What would your dad say if you took up sewing?” Steve muttered darkly.

Mike blushed and ducked his head. “Probably that it was girly.”

“And yet the tailor I went to was a man,” Steve pointed out. “So how does sewing make you girly but most tailors are men make sense?” Mike just shrugged because it didn’t. “Also while we on that bullshit, why is a tailor seen as an honorable profession when a seamstress has the connotation of being associated with sex? Like what the fuck?”

Mike’s ears burned as he deeply regretted bringing it up.

“Just finish those tassels, man,” Steve huffed going back to his own work.

Mike did as he was told and bent back over his tassels.

*

All week long people were coming in and out of Steve’s house so often that Steve was startled by the knock at the door.

He was annoyed. He was literally an inch away from finishing Will’s extension and the interruption was decidedly unwelcome.

To say he was surprised when Officer Callahan was standing there looking as much if not more annoyed than he was would be an understatement.

“Uh...” Steve muttered. “How can I help you, Officer?”

“Hey, Harrington,” Callahan said with a heavy sigh, “it seems your neighbors are complaining that you’ve been having people coming and going all hours of the day and night. They think it’s been pretty suspicious.”

Steve quirked an eyebrow and Callahan huffed out a laugh.

Steve did some heavy thinking to make sure he didn’t have weed out before he said, “Nothing shading going on, I promise, Officer. Just being making costumes for the Ren Fair coming up this weekend and all my friends keep stopping by for last minute fittings.”

Both of Callahan’s eyebrows went up. “What now?”

Steve waved him in. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Callahan looked around him, but followed Steve into the house with a half shrug.

Steve brought the police officer into the kitchen where he had been working with the aid of the natural light streaming through the big windows. On the table there was Will’s tunic with its inch of ribbon to go. There were bobbins of thread, spools of ribbon, and swaths of fabric literally covering almost every inch of the table.

“I’m just putting on the finishing touches on Will Byers’s costume,” Steve explained. “You remember Will, don’t you?” His smile was just this side of innocent.

Callahan coughed. Because of course he did. Everyone knew who Will Byers was.

“Right,” he said scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I’ll be sure to pass that along. But maybe tell your friends to come during the day?”

Steve smiled brightly. “Oh of course, Officer. This is the last one I’m working on, though. And Will will be stopping by this evening.”

“You sure this is the last one?” Callahan asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“Oh yes!” Steve said. “The first day of the Fair is on Thursday and we’re going all three days.”

Callahan nodded. “I’ll leave you be then.”

Steve showed him to the front door. Callahan stopped.

“Is this Fair thing any fun?” he asked nervously.

“I’d like to think so,” Steve said with a half shrug. “It’s like the State Fair, so it can get hot and dusty, but there are jousting and sword fights, little plays at night. Things like that.”

Callahan chewed on the bottom of his lip before he nodded curtly. “See ya, later, Harrington.”

“Bye, Officer!”

He slammed the door and went back to finishing the tunic.

Once he was done, he held it up to the light. You couldn’t even tell where the extra inches were. It looked seamless.

He yawned and stretched, feeling please with himself. He looked at his watch. He still had plenty of time before Mrs. Byers brought Will over for the final fitting.

So Steve wandered over to the sofa and laid down. He figured he could a few winks before then and let himself drift off to sleep.

*

Steve was woken by the sound of someone pounding on the door. He looked out the window, but it was still light out. He sat up and looked at his watch again to see that only an hour had passed.

He got up and before he could even reach the hallway whoever it was started knocking again.

“Hold your horses, man!” Steve yelled.

He threw open the door, annoyed for the second time today. But at least this time it was a far more pleasant a surprise.

“Eddie!” he greeted. “Were we hanging out today?” He didn’t think they had anything on with it being so close to the Ren Fair.

“Nope!” Eddie said with a grin. “A special delivery!”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Holy shit! They’re ready?”

Eddie pulled out a long thin box and handed it over. Inside were two brown elf ears.

“And they’ll match?”

Eddie tilted his hand back and forth. “As close as we could without the recipient being there.”

Steve hugged him. “Thanks, man. This is going to mean a lot to Lucas.”

Eddie cleared his throat and reluctantly stepped back. “I’ve got band practice, but I wanted to drop these off so Lucas can have them before we go to the Ren Fair.”

“I appreciate it,” Steve said, his cheeks dusted pink. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“Yep!” Eddie said, skipping backwards and almost falling off the porch.

Steve jerked forward, but Eddie righted himself before he could fall.

“Bye.” Eddie turned around and practically ran back to his van.

Steve shook his head fondly. He went back inside, but he knew it was useless to try to nap some more. He was wide awake and maybe a little excited, too.

So he went to get make himself some dinner before Joyce and Will arrived.

*

For the third and final time that night there was a knock on Steve’s front door. At least this time he was ready for it.

He opened the door to reveal Joyce and Will. “Come on in. I just finished it up this afternoon.”

“It’s so sweet of you to do the final alterations,” Joyce said. “It really was a big help to Claudia and me, so we got together and made you brownies as a thank you.”

She shoved the plate in his hands and with her eyes dared him to refuse.

Steve would admit later that he thought about protesting until the smell of warm chocolate hit his nose.

“Oh wow,” he murmured. “They smell delightful.”

Joyce smiled. “Let’s see it then. El has been going on and on about the gold trim on her dress for days and I can’t wait to see Will’s.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Byers,” Steve said brightly. “Follow me.” He led the way into the kitchen. “Is Nancy and Jonathan going to come to the Fair?”

Joyce and Will shared a glance behind Steve’s back.

“No,” Will said bitterly. “I even told Jonathan that he didn’t have to dress up, but he doesn’t want to go.”

Steve hummed. “Maybe once he sees how much fun you had on Thursday he’ll want to join us for Friday or Saturday.”

Will’s eyes lit up and Joyce smiled fondly at Steve.

“Perhaps,” was all she said.

They reached the kitchen and Will gasped. His tunic was a simple warm brown color but the gold trim just brightened up the whole thing and gave it a rich feel to it.

“Oh Steve, it’s beautiful,” Joyce whispered, giving Steve’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Put it on, Will,” Steve instructed. “It’s going over a shirt and belted so we won’t need to check width, just length.”

Will nodded and pulled it over his head. It fell to the perfect place just over the kneecap so that when Will belted it, it would be above his knee.

“You can’t even tell inches were added,” Joyce said. “Do you like it, Will?”

“Yeah,” he replied with a huge grin. “It’s even better than I imagined. Thanks, Steve!”

He leapt on Steve to give him the biggest hug. Steve staggered back a step but caught the lankly teen and hugged him back just as fiercely.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Joyce playfully swatted her youngest son. “I can’t believe that even with me adding two inches to the hem after we measured still wasn’t enough to counteract your growth spurt!”

Will blushed. “Sorry, mom.”

She just grinned and kissed his cheek.

“Well it looks like we’re all ready to go,” Steve said with a smile. “I can’t wait for Thursday.”

Will smiled back. “Me either!”

****

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[rebee-sweetie]

A/N: Honestly, I don’t completely agree with the posts that say Bakugo is gentle dating you, but I will agree he has a soft spot. So here’s my take on that.

Bakugo Katsuki x Reader fluff, small head-canons?

Katsuki is very much is in love with you, but still is rough on the outside. He’s prickly, grumpy, and loud. But you know he loves you.

He has nicknames that are still a little rude but specially picked in his own way. The nickname might come off condescending, but it’s a double edged sword. Because in his heart he associates it with something very sweet.

Nicknames like “Chipmunk!” Because he likes how you puff out your cheeks like one. Or “Butterfingers” because of your clumsy self, but secretly he loves it. “Crybaby” because you’re too sensitive about topics but in reality he loves the way your eyes sparkle and your lashes become thick and wet from fat tears.

If you duel with him or want to wrestle, he doesn’t play nice and sure as hell won’t let you win. Because that’s just Katsuki. But he loves watching you struggle and sweat trying to pin him to the floor. Chuckling as you puff out hot hair, face beet red, and hair sporadically tangled on your face. He’ll let out a hearty chuckle shortly followed by saying “Dumbass.”

If you chew at your nails or pick at your fingers he’ll call it and you ‘disgusting’. It’ll hurt your feelings at first but he sees it as a bad habit that takes away from your pretty hands and it’s unclean. Same goes for if you leave dishes to ‘soak’ or leave dirty clothes on the ground. He’ll swat you with a broom if he finds you walking around with shoes indoors.

He’s not very good with words of affirmation. In fact, he stinks at it. But he’s good with acts of service and sometimes physical touch. I imagine growing up the Bakugo’s showed their love through acts of service and harsh words, so it’s only natural it’s his love language too. If he finds you crying, it’ll make him uncomfortable to try to comfort you. He’s awkward, stiff, and struggles to sound sweet. Instead he cooks a hot meal and draws a bath for you, waiting with a steamed towel. When you thank him he’ll respond with a grunt and nod.

He might not be very kind to you or others nor be very graceful with words, but he’s protective. Only he can say shit about you. Only he can bully and condescend you because he doesn’t really mean it. If anyone else dares to fuck with you, they won’t live to see tomorrow. He’s a man who sticks to a promise, and his threats will be carried through. In some regards he’ll be overprotective. He doesn’t like you walking outside alone and sticks close to you at a bar.

Last but not least, when it’s just you both alone and the moment is tender, he truly is sweet. It’s not very often you see it, but that’s why it’s so special. Pulling you into his lap, nuzzling into your neck. Quiet and gentle whispers tickling your ear. It’s so out of character for him but this is the sweet boy hiding away at the core of his soul. Nothing sexual, no strings attached, just wanting to spend time with you and be vulnerable. And when I say it is just the two of you, it is. No windows, no person able to walk in, no paparazzi snooping around. Just the two of you, no one else can see it but you.

[rushtoprove]

to deceive a prince

pairing: aemond targaryen x f!reader rating: general audiences word count: 6k+ summary: when aemond targaryen shows interest in courting your little sister, she employs your help to capture his attention through sharing letters and notes, all the while acting as if you are her. it was never meant to become so complicated. warnings: medieval catfishing? rom-com vibes. a little bit of fluff because my masterlist was getting to angsty so i needed something to lighten it up. catfishing bad in real life obviously. This has been flagged as mature by the tumblr gods but i promise it’s not.

“Please!” You wanted to curse your sister. Could she not see you were enjoying the peace of the gardens? That you were content simply reading beneath the oak tree that kept you hidden from the surrounding courtiers? Why did she need to pester you with such idiotic conversation? 

“Repeat it again?” You were in disbelief at what your younger sister had just requested of you, but her excitement rendered her oblivious to the discomfort. 

“Prince Aemond requested me as a dance partner at the ball last night and now I am in love! But I woke up to this letter beneath my door and I do not know how to reply! Or what some of the words mean. He was so sullen with me last night that I thought he must have hated me so. But he likes me!” She spun around in childish glee, ignoring your widened eyes and cruel laughter. 

“So, you want me to write back to him? As you? This morning did you not call him a tedious bore? You said you regretted wasting a dance on him, if I recall correctly?” 

“Yes, yes, I know! I was too devastated that he did not like me, so I had no choice but to mask my despair. I know you understand what I’m asking for, I do not know why this is the fourth time you want me to repeat it you obviously know what I’m talking about!” 

“Tell me one more time for good luck.” You could help but play with Mariyanna now, enjoying her desperation. You both had only just been sent to attend court three days ago, but it was no surprise to you that she would catch a suitor’s eye so quick. Even if it was the sullen prince with an ill temperament that many had warned you to take care around. 

“Stop! Please sister, please!?” 

“Many say he is a cruel man little Anna. Heartless even. Hell bent on revenge from years ago. And that he does not smile or laugh. I’m surprised he danced.” You sighed as you lowered your book and finally gave your attention to her. She was three years your junior, but you often treated her as a baby. She let her knees sink to the cold earth so that you both sat facing each other and Mariyanna clasped your hands together tightly. 

“His mother requested he dance so he could begin trying to find a suitable wife. Apparently, he won’t accept anything his family suggest so he is being given the freedom to choose. As long as she is suitable enough to join their family.” 

“He told you all this?” 

“No, his brother Aegon told me after he saw us dance for the second time.” 

“The drunk?” 

“Hush sister. But yes... that one. You would know all this if you attended!” She tried to glare at you in disappointment, but her smile was uncontainable. She was truly getting swept up in a fantasy that was created less than a day ago. You rolled your eyes at her comment before lifting your book back up. 

“You are a fool little sister.” 

“Imagine it though! Me! Marrying a prince and becoming a princess! I think I would fit well into that duty.” Her eyes glazed over as she imagined her possible future, but once she returned to reality, and quickly returned to begging. You groaned as your book was covered by the letter Prince Aemond had slid beneath her door, turning your nose up at the courting language. It was infected with imagery of nature and copious amounts of sentences comparing sweet Mariyanna to different flowers. You moaned in discomfort. 

“PLEASE!?” She cried. You did not want to. You loathed the idea. But you were always ready to do whatever your sister required, so with a sigh you wrote a letter in return. She complained it was not filled with enough declarations and promises of love and duty, but you simply waved her away. 

“You do not want to seem desperate for him. He will think you are only after his title.” And like always, your sister followed whatever you said. After that she sat wide-eyed as you quickly wrote down little sentences that quietly asked to be answered. You made small jokes about their previous night as you listened to your sister retell every moment in detail. The moment it was finished she bounced up quickly and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.  

“I love you!” You had no time to reply before she spun on heel and raced up the grass hill, desperate to find a maid to deliver the letter. 

“That’s the only time Mariyanna!” You called out after her, but she was already gone. 

+++ 

It was only a day later that your little sister had come running back with a letter grasped tightly in her grip. This time she was interrupting your alone time in the library. 

“He replied!” She squealed before shoving you along the stone bench to sit beside you. You thanked the gods no one ever seemed to come to this part of the castle, as they much preferred the newly renovated library across the other side of the red keep. She gave no time for you to reply before it was shoved into your face. 

Mariyanna, 

I must apologize as there has been a mistake. I did not send any letter to you after our dances. I believe my mother has taken it upon myself to incite conversation between us. However, I quite enjoyed your reply, and I would like to talk more this evening. Please do me the pleasure of accompany me on a walk along the grounds. 

Prince Aemond 

“My letter has captured him! Can you believe it!? A prince!” You almost laughed at her. Almost.  

“Why are you here and not racing down to find him?” 

“I do not know what to talk about I need some tips. I know he studies philosophy and he read many books according to Lady Ariyanna. I need you to give me some talking points!” She begged. 

“You want talking points on books you’ve never read? Little Anna I am sure you must simply be yourself and he will fall in love with you. Do not mould yourself into something you are not. He would be a fool not to be enticed instantly for your charm and beauty.” You brushed a strand of hair from her face and smiled at the delight that had consumed her entire being. 

“I know! And I won’t! I just need some extra wit. I need your brains. You are the most intelligent person I know. Just this once. Afterwards I shall use my own letters and interests.” You sat staring at one another for a second before you simply sighed. 

“Fine.” 

You had one hour to drill small jests and facts about your favourite books. You discussed quickly about Ten Thousand Ships and the journey Nymeria faced in her battle to be Queen. You kept it short and simply, but hoped it was enough for her to act out her silly little infatuation with the young prince. For your sister’s sake.   She could not sit still from the nerves of what was to come, and you swore there was no way she would recall everything. It felt she was hardly listening, but your sister was treating the whole thing quite seriously.  

When she left you, you moved to gaze out from the window and looked down to the gardens below. You had the perfect view of your nervous sister. She was cautious as she moved towards the looming figure of the prince, his arms crossed behind his back and his posture standing tall. He was looking upon the oak tree you had sat yesterday but turned as he realised your sister had crept forth. They bowed, and you imagined they greeted each other, before beginning the boring small talk that comes with meeting someone new. But when you saw your sister begin laughing, and his arm move to offer itself to her, you knew your tips had paid off.  

Moving away with a sigh, you returned to your book. 

That was all you would do for their courtship now. 

+++ 

You don’t know how your sister did it, but letter upon letter you had exchanged with Prince Aemond over the last few months. It quickly became easier than breathing. His interests were the same as yours, and his humour yours too. The books he suggested kept you enticed to the very last page, and he wrote that your recommendations happened to do the very same. You found him charming, however not overbearing, and you quickly realised you had dug yourself the deepest grave. You had never loved anyone.  

Until now. 

“Mention how I enjoyed his thoughts on Lies of the Ancients! Oh, and that I have come to agree the Starks made up all their stories to look really powerful!” You looked at your sister, disturbed by her ridiculous take.  

“I will not write that.” You muttered. You don’t remember how she coerced you in to writing this letter, yet here you were, scribbling stupid quips and more enticing conversation starter. 

“It was what Aemond told me. It will show I was listening!” 

“Mary, he is playing with you. No one regards Archmaester Fomas’s writing as anything more than an old man raving his madness to the masses. If he brought it up, I believe... well, I believe he was making a joke.” You grimaced at your sister, trying hard not to imagine her nodding along to Aemond Targaryen’s dry humour. 

“Oh.” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay, well write that I thought it was a funny jest.” She leaned her weight on to your back to get a full view of the stupid letter. You groaned beneath her with a huff but decided that you would mention that you knew he was jesting with his thoughts. You did not want your sister to come off as a halfwit. Or perhaps it was that you did not want him to think you a halfwit. 

“There. Mariyanna, I truly mean it when I say this is the last time, I shall do this. It does not feel right to mislead Prince Aemond.” You pushed the letter away in defeat for her to sign, which she happily scribbled on. You heart ached from the entire ordeal. At night you found yourself craving the idea of Aemond finding out the truth, but you also resented the idea of your sister being left broken. She brought the letter to her lips and placed a small kiss to the corner of it, leaving her lip paint to stain the very edge.  

“I know. I just don’t want to lose his attention. He is so tall and strong and princely. If it is not me who mothers his children, I do not know how I shall survive.” Her giggling was infectious, and you thought you hoped her happiness would never fade. So much so, you knew you were willing to give up your own for your sweet little sister.  

“Just... be careful little Anna. I worry you have fallen too deep into something that could implode in any moment.” You hoped she would heed your warning, but the youthfulness glee did not fade from her eyes, leaving you in doubt that she had even heard.   Her snickering suddenly came to a stop when the sound of the libraries grand door clicked open. You cursed inwardly, how many people were to invade the only peaceful part of the whole keep? She eyed you uncertainly and you quickly shrugged back in panicked confusion. She shrugged back at you even harder making you roll your eyes and point for her to see who had entered.  

“Why me?” She mouthed. You rolled your eyes and shoved her off her chair, leaving her no choice to silently toe towards the edge of the bookcase. Leaned forward in anticipation, you almost cried out in fright as she swung around in panic.  

“What!?” You hissed, bouncing to your feet in fear of whatever danger had entered. She quickly began shooing you away with her hands and began tidying the desk you had left sprawled with your readings. 

“Go!” She mouthed silently at you again. You angrily threw your hands up in frustration at her choice not to answer, but the sound of man clearing his throat halted your every movement. 

“My ears may deceive me, but I thought I heard your laughter, Lady Mariyanna.” Your jaw opened and closed in shock before you desperately began waving to your sister. 

“Not here!” You quietly begged her. You did not want to see. You did not need the image of him staring upon your sister and whispering in her ear. You wanted to preserve what you had with him in your stupid letters.  

“What do I do!? Why do I say I was in here for?” She grasped your shoulder and pulled you into her, shaking you for an answer. Stumbling in disbelief, you shook your head. You were both rattled by this turn of events, but you still could think unlike your sister. 

“Fucking reading you idiot!” You hissed, making her almost slap her forehead. 

“Right? Fuck what book?” She haphazardly began spinning on her spot, and you both desperately tried to find a book. 

“Let me come and find you, my prince!” She cried out in fake delight before staring at you franticly. You both shrugged violently at each other and began glaring in alarm.  

“You must leave. I will not be able to hide here long.” The sound of footsteps grew closer, leaving your sister no choice but to shove you away. 

“No need. Who I am to draw you away from your readings?” The voice called out. You stilled for a second over the calmness of his voice. 

“I’ll just read what you were reading.” She was alarmed by how close he was and quickly gave up the effort of finding a book. 

“No!” You cried out quietly as you stumbled behind the bookcase. She ignored your cry and left you to crouch down out of sight, biting your knuckle in shame for what was about to happen. You were secluded enough behind the shelves that you were hidden from the great Aemond Targaryen, but you found you had a perfect view of the meeting. You watched in trepidation as he slowly stepped to the table that your sister had managed to gracefully sit at, after she had calmed herself from the madness that had taken over you both. 

“My lady.” He bowed before her, leaving her nothing more than a blushing mess. If you had not have been in the clutches of utter panic at your precarious position, you would have rolled your eyes at her folly. 

“Prince Aemond. I did not expect you!” She was flustered by his towering figure leaning over her, and quickly moved to stand, but he gently lay a hand on her shoulder to keep her sitting comfortably before him. Breathing in deeply, he let his eye rake over the shelves making you quickly duck away from his gaze. It was a surprise your beating heart did not give you away for you swore every person in the kingdom could hear it. 

“No need for such formalities. It is I who has intruded upon your time; therefore, it is I who should be paying you the respect you deserve.” His tone did not match the sentiment as you had never heard such an unwavering, and proper speech come from any man in the court. No one could deny the authority that seeped from his very being, nor the power he held in his mere stance. Something quivered inside you at the sight of him, but it was in the most delicious way possible.  

“I do not consider it an intrusion my prince. I am always grateful for your company.” Mariyanna squeaked out, her face the deepest shade of pink you had ever seen. You wondered how she had managed to converse with him this far? 

“Please, you know I wish for you to call me Aemond.” The corner of his lip seemed to move upwards, and you wondered if that was his idea of a smile. Gazing upon his face, you found yourself struck by just how handsome the prince was. You had heard him to be described as frightening and dangerous, but no one had mentioned how sharp his jaw was. Your sister had informed you that his face simple, but pretty enough, and you felt the need to wring out her neck right then and there. How could she be so blind? 

“Yes, my prince.” Anna sighed out dreamily and this time not even the panic of the situation could stop you from rolling your eyes. 

“Are you enjoying your book?” Aemond enquired, reaching down and bringing the cover to his face. Your sister was too busy in her own realm of glee to notice the way his remaining eye widened in shock. You inwardly groaned. 

“Oh yes! I am learning so much! I really think it one of the greatest books ever written.” Your sister tried to feign interest, placing her chin upon her hand and smiling up at Aemond. You had groaned even louder in your head. It was a shock when Aemond let out a breathless chuckle. 

“Well... you continue to surprise me. Perhaps you shall have to tell me what you learn by the end." You could not blame Aemond for thinking your sister was being flirtatious because the book you had been reading was A Caution for Young Girls, a book banned from most libraries in the seven kingdoms for its erotica and sinfulness. It was infamous, so when it was passed back to your sister to look upon, even she knew what the novel was about. 

“Oh god no! Not me!” She cried out in shock before throwing it across the library franticly. She quickly began spewing out apologies for presenting such an ungodly object before Aemond, while he simply looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. 

“You do not need to worry. I shall not disclose it to anyone.” He tried to jest but it simply made her more frantic. 

“I’m sorry you see? It was my sister! She must always make sure she partakes in the most unproper things to displease my father. see? It was my sister! She must always make sure she partakes in the most unproper things to displease my father.” You did not miss the way she hissed, knowing fully well that she intended you to hear her anger. You flinched into yourself, mortified that the prince would now think you a sexual deviant before you were to even become acquainted. You had only wanted to know what all the fuss was about.  

“You have never mentioned a sister?” Perhaps Aemond was trying to defuse your sister’s panic, but the statement tugged at your heart hard. How had your sister not thought to mention you after all these meetings over these past few months. 

“Yes... well... she doesn’t leave her room much, you see? She, well everyone thinks she is quite simple.” The tug was so harsh you felt your entire heart shatter inside your ribcage. As if she heard, Mariyanna looked apologetically towards where you were hidden. Aemond was gazing solemnly out the window so you simply took the opportunity to make sure she could see the way your lifter your middle finger in her direction. 

“Cunt.” You mumbled, before quickly ducking once more as Aemond turned.  

“I understand. My brother is the simplest person in the entire seven kingdoms. It seems we have much in common.” This time he finally did smile down at your sister, who in return, linked her arms tightly in his. 

“Well at least we have each other to keep company.” She gazed up at Aemond from beneath her eyelashes, and you didn’t miss the way his eye softened.  

“I came here for a reason, actually.” He muttered; his gaze unbroken from hers. He frowned as she quickly moved her gaze to anywhere but his scarred skin that was hidden beneath his eye patch but continued anyways. “I wished to invite you to dinner with my siblings tonight. I would like to introduce you to my sister Heleana and younger brother Daeron. Unfortunately, Aegon will also be attending but perhaps you can invite your brainless sister to entertain him.” His description left you heart squeezed, drained of every drop of happiness and leaving it to bleed through his tight grasp. 

“She will be there. I’ll make sure of it. Now come, let us wonder the gardens! It is a beautiful day outside! Much too beautiful to be cooped up in here. It’s so dusty.” Your sister danced away merrily, happy to have succeeded in diverting away from a disastrous interaction. You swore you heard Aemond follow, so with a huff you stood straight and began stretching out your cramped limbs. When you gazed at the door, however, you saw him lingering, playing with the note you had written for him only moments ago. You watched the soft chuckle as he read it, and the way his demeanour seemed to lighten.  

“Continuing to surprise me.” He huffed, before slowly bringing the edge of it to his lips. The act was intimate, much to intimate for you to be gazing on. Stumbling back, you tried to remove yourself, but your skirt knocked down a book from a top its stack, and Aemond swung around in haste. You saw him begin stalking forward to find the source of the noise, making you cover your mouth and bite down hard on your palm.  

“Who goes there?” He whispered, prying his head around the bookcase. If Mariyanna was to renter, she would see Aemond standing above you, the only thing keeping you hidden was the books and cloths hanging over the shelf. You heard him inhale deeply, and for a moment you felt like prey being hunted by an animal. But she never came, and instead she called. 

“My Prince!” Her laughter floated about the room, making Aemond instantly straighten with a huff.  

“Hmmm.” He whispered, before turning and stalking off in her direction. You did not realised your skirt had been in plain view. 

+ 

Shamefully, you agreed to attend the meal with no argument. You would like to sit before Aemond once, even if it was to watch his courtship of your sister. Absolutely shameful. 

“I am happy you joined us, Mariyanna! My brother has talked a lot about you. A lot. Like all the time! Yesterday, I was showing him some art and he said it reminded him of this poem you had suggested he read. Even though he doesn’t like poetry. And, when you said you read that stupid book about ancient people lying, he was so amazed he didn’t shut up about it for a whole week! AND...”  

“Daeron, please, for the love of the gods shut up.” Helaena quipped up, placing a protective hand on Aemond’s sleeve. Daeron giggled mischievously, his childish humour leaving only him amused. The glare Aemond sent his way left him clutching hard at the table trying not to let himself howl out in delight. You were seated beside him, with Aegon boredly picking his teeth in the reflection of his soup spoon on you other side. Helaena was perched across from him but was seated beside her obviously favourite brother Aemond. Mariyanna was seated on his other side. This meant Aemond and yourself were seated directly across from one another, and due to Helaena forcing the dinner to be an intimate event, your legs were almost touching his under the small table. The heat that radiated off him, and the accidently touches of his long legs had you pressing your thighs together as tightly as possible.  

You do not know what possessed you to read that stupid book. 

“Thank you for being kind enough to invite me.” Your sister ducked her head in appreciation, and you quietly sighed as no one paid any mind to you. It was a shock, however, when you raised your gaze and saw Aemond staring upon you, as if analysing your very soul. Without a second thought, you stared at him in the exact same way.  

“Yes, my brother says you love all those stupid books. I’ve been trying to convince my mother to renovate that ancient library in the south corner of the keep and turn it into a theatre for us to watch plays. The commonfolk have some fucking hilarious skits.” Aegon laughed ignorantly, and you watched your sister laugh too. 

“Oh no!” Your words came before your thoughts, and everyone quickly turned to you. You quickly looked at your sister for some support only to see her looking at you in frustration. “My sister loves that library.” You coughed out, and Mariyanna quickly nodded in agreement.  

“It’s filthy. The new one is much nicer.” Aegon pointed out. Mariyanna kept nodding, getting confused with who she should comply with, but you shook your head. 

“It’s too busy. And it censors the books too much.” You muttered falling into your seat to try and hide yourself from the attention. Aemond chuckled at your words, before beginning to tap his fingers a top the table. 

“Yes. I hear you enjoy the restricted section of the library.” He smirked at you, thinking he knew a secret that you didn’t. Led to believe that he was alone in the library with your sister. But you were there, and you understood his words perfectly, leaving you reddened in shame. 

“Oh really? How obscene do you enjoy your novels?” Aegon was suddenly interested as he snaked his arm around your chair and leaned in with a grin. 

“Ugh.” You grunted out in disgust without thinking, leaving Mariyanna gasping in shock. 

“Forgive my sister she...” She was drowned out by the laughter the three siblings shared at the treatment of their brother. 

“Move away from her Aegon.” Aemond sighed. Aegon sighed in mock defeat, before turning his attention to swirling his wine. Looking away, you tried to turn your attention to your sister, but was caught by Aemond’s gaze once more. 

“You do not come to any of my mother’s dances, am I right?” Shifting nervously, you quickly shook your head. 

“I find my sister is much better at those types of things. I like to live through her little stories.” He hummed at your reply, before drawing his goblet to his lips. 

“And what do you do in your spare time? Write?” Your sister and you stared panicked at one another, before you quickly shook your head. Helaena stared confused at the three of your, but Aemond simply looked at you. Nowhere else. His eye was on you. 

“Not me.” The squeak of your voice mimicked that of your sister’s fluster under his gaze. Mariyanna was biting down hard on her lip, willing herself not to cry. She thought it obvious you had been caught. 

“I just noticed the ink stains on your fingers. It was a simple assumption.” You quickly hid your fingers in the sleeve of your gown and tried to think up an excuse. But everything thought seemed to evade you.  

“Not me.” You repeated quietly. The room fell silent for a moment, everyone staring between yourself and Aemond, but then you found yourself saved by the servants. The doors swung open as they swarmed in, carrying different trays of food and began arranging your feast on the small table. You quickly looked at your sister who widened her eyes in question. You simply widened your eyes back. You also did not understand what was happening.  

“I have been so hungry this whole time.” Daeron moaned as he began piling his plate with potato's. Everyone moved to reach for a dish, so you quickly reached for the spoon that was within the soup dish. It also happened to be the dish Aemond reached for leaving you both grasping onto the tips of each other's fingers instead of the spoon. You quickly pulled back and cradled your hand with widened eyes. The touch had sent a sensation down your entire being, even all the way to your toes, leaving you with no choice but to curl them up inside your slippers.  

“Apologies.” You choked out, looking down shamefully. You cursed yourself in embarrassment, declaring to yourself that he really will think you simple and brainless at the end of this dinner. He simply hummed at your regret, before lifting your bowl towards him. Without a word, he poured you a serving before returning it to you. No words were spoken as you nodded in appreciation.  

+++  

The dinner had gone smoothly after that. Perhaps smoothly wasn’t the right word. You had to cradle Mariyanna in your arms as she had spent the whole time after sobbing. Aemond had not paid her much attention to her, and she thought it obvious he had figured out that it was you who had captured him all those months ago. 

“Shhh you do not know that to be true.” 

“I do! I saw the way he was looking at you.” You had patted down her hair in comfort as she shook in your arms. You could not celebrate at the idea that Aemond might have figured it out because you heart ached for your sister. 

“Even if he has figured out that it was I that was writing the letters, it does not mean he did not fall for you after all those hours he spent courting you.” You tried to reassure her, but her broken cries only got louder. 

“I could tell he did not like our talks. I am not dumb. I knew when I laughed at the wrong times and disagreed and agreed on his thoughts mistakenly. I knew he only liked me because of your letters. I just thought with more time he might grow fond of me.” You shushed her crushed sobs and pressed a kiss atop her head. 

“If he did not grow fond of your little Anna, then he is a fool.” You whispered. She lay in your arms a little longer, before letting out a long exhale. She quickly sniffed, before sitting herself up and wiping her eyes. 

“It is okay.” She whispered, pinching her cheeks and quickly blinking away her tears. You were shocked by her sudden change of demeanour, but she ignored you and moved to her window. With a frown you slowly stood, scared any sudden movement would break her once more. 

“Mary...” 

“Veron Greyjoy has asked me to wed him. I think I shall accept it.” She gazed out, as if she had not mentioned something so immense.  

“What?” You rushed to her side, but she simply sighed at you like you were an idiot. Clasping your hands with hers, she finally looked at you. 

“My courtship with Aemond was flawed. I had to make sure I had other options. Of course, marrying a prince of Westeros was the ideal option but I was not dumb enough to think there was a certain likeliness of me wedding him. Unlike you, I do not mind if I marry for security. So, I entertained some men on the side. I have had a few other proposals of course, but I enjoy Veron’s company the most.” You could not speak from the shock of her news, but Mary simply kissed your fingers. 

“What of Aemond?” 

“He was kind, of course. And I would have been happy to wed him because I believe he shall make a wonderful husband. But I do not love him.” Disbelief. It is all that you felt. But you should not have been surprised. Your baby sister was born to thrive amongst the court, and you were a fool for thinking her dim-witted. Perhaps she was a greater schemer than Otto Hightower? 

“You’re fucking insane.” You let out a breathless laugh, as you stumbled to leave her room. 

“At first I was committed to him.” She called. You turned back to look at her smirking face. “But I started looking elsewhere when I saw you sign one of those letters with your own name.” Staring at her with a gaping mouth, you could not believe what was happening. 

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” You muttered defensively. It only made her chuckle. 

“You have my permission.” 

“For what!?”  

“You may let him court you. I know you love him. And who am I to get in the way of that? I do not remember a time you showed interest in any man.” She smiled lovingly at your blushing form while you stood spluttering out sentences of denial. 

“He is a prince.” You finally whispered in defeat. You could never hide anything from her. 

“And you shall be a fine princess.” 

+++ 

You could not sleep after your talk with your sister. You had spent your night twisting and turning under the moonlight that streamed in from your window. So, with a huff, you found yourself marching to the library in a robe. Carrying a candle and allowing your hair to flow freely as your bare feet slapped upon the stone hallways, you were sure to have looked like a madwoman, but you were to frazzled to care. It was only when you made it into your hideaway within the library, that you finally allowed yourself to relax. You began lighting the candles upon the walls so that you had enough light to read and allowed yourself to reach for the book Ten Thousand Ships. During your exchanges with Aemond, you had spent many letters discussing Nymeria and her reign over Dorne. It was your favourite piece of literature, and it was his too. 

You couldn’t read. You tried. Gods you tired. But the longer you stared at a page, the more distorted the words became. Instead, your mind was only on Aemond.  

“You deceived me.” The sudden voice that came from between the shelves made you scream in shock. The book dropped as you quickly pushed yourself back in fear. But it only took a moment to be reminded whose voice that was. You watched as Aemond stepped forth from the shadows, still in his leather pants from dinner, but now just a sheer white undershirt covering his torso. The candlelight illuminated his face as he moved forward, and you breath hitched at the sight. He no longer had his eyepatch strapped up, but instead he left his missing eye bare for you to see. You expected a sunken hole where his missing eye once was, but the light caught on the sapphire, and you watched it glisten. You were awed, and when he noticed you did not look away from his scarring, he could not help but look upon you fondly. Swallowing your anxiousness, you simply bowed your head. 

“I am sorry Aemond. Truly.” You cursed yourself for being so informal and allowing yourself to call him by his name, and when you watched him clench then unclench his fists, you thought you had already ruined everything. 

“I could have you arrested for such fraudulence.” He muttered beneath his breath, making your neck bow even further. You felt tears spring to the corners of your eyes while you tried to gain composer. 

“It is true. And perhaps I deserve it. I did not intend for it to go this far.” Your breath was shaky as you exhaled your words and allowed yourself to slowly lift your gaze. You expected to see Aemond glaring, full of hatred at the revelation that he had been played a fool, but he was simply looking down at you with an amused smile. 

“I jest. I shall not have you arrested.” He apologised with a smirk, and this time your heart began to race for different reasons. No longer were you in fear of imprisonment, for now all you care for was the way Aemond Targaryen was standing above you in hardly any clothes, while you were sitting on the ground like a peasant with no shoes and untidy hair. You could not look away from the way his hair seemed to glow in the moonlight, and it was at that moment that you realise how unkept it was. It looked as if he had run his fingers through it a million times and in different directions. 

“I could find no sleep.” You whispered. He exhaled a breath and let out a soft hum. 

“Neither could I. My mind is... preoccupied.” You nodded in understanding and felt your heart soar from your chest. You were no fool. You know what was happening. 

“Will you sit with me?” You suggested as you began clearing away the books you had scattered across the floor. Aemond did not need to think as he gracefully dropped to his knees and allowed himself to fall to your side. Trying to make yourselves comfortable, he let his hand stretch you behind you, and you were quick to fall into his side. 

“Are you still reading A Caution for Young Girls?” You felt yourself choke at his jest, before allowing yourself to laugh.  

“No. I finished it.” You smirked while pulling your book back into your lap. “Hmmm. A shame.” He whispered, leaving a tingling sensation running down your spine. 

“I found it... enlightening.” You smirked as you ran your thumb across your lower lip. You felt him push his nose in your hair and you both couldn’t help but smile. You let out something between a moan and a laugh, before holding up Ten Thousand Ships. 

“I believe you are familiar?” You teased. He let his teeth draw in his bottom lip quickly before chuckling at your question. 

“I know something of it.” You went to turn the next page but stopped as you felt him move your wild hair to the side. 

“Let us start again.” He whispered. Reaching down to your hand, he pulled up your fingers and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

“I am Aemond Targaryen, my lady. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?” 

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Hibernation

Set post-game. Halsin starts to feel more tired every day and knows what it means---he will need to hibernate. NSFW.

“Daddy Halsin, are you alright?” One of the tiefling children asked him. He had been showing the children how to take care of the vegetable seeds they had planted in the greenhouse when a jolt of fatigue went through him. Third time this has happened today. Is it that time again? “Daddy Halsin?”

He offered a gentle smile to the child. “Yes, Eustace. I’m well, simply tired.”

One of the other children, a human girl named Poppy, thought for a moment before suggesting, “You should take a nap with Miss Annie, Daddy Halsin. You’re always so happy after being with her!”

He could not help but laugh and ruffled the child’s hair. “You’re very right, Poppy! Miss Annie does make me happy.” He looked at one of the druids, a dragonborn from Baldur’s Gate. “Can you continue their lesson, friend? After, let them wander the square and play to their hearts’ content.”

The druid gave a nod. “Of course. Now children…”

Thankfully Halsin was able to slip away without too much crying, and soon he opened the door to his and Anais’s cottage on the edge of what was Reithwin and now known as Moonrise. He and his beloved agreed to live away from the town center (so I may easily go into the woods whenever I please) but with a kitchen of her design (higher than usual counters and a large hearth) and additions of nature throughout. It was a beautiful home. Certainly not as grand as that manor she grew up in, but thankfully her tastes are much simpler than her mother’s. He smelled something sweet as he entered the cottage. Honey cakes?

“You’re back early!” Anais looked up from her book. She was sitting at the table, her apron covered in flour.

He smiled as he bent to kiss her. She is perfect. She fills my heart with such joy. “I was feeling tired.”

“Again?” Her voice was tinged with worry.

Pulling up his chair next to hers, he sighed. “Yes, but I think I know what it is.” She offered an encouraging nod, and he continued. “Every so often, the bear needs to hibernate. It’s getting to be that time.” He watched as she put a slip of paper inside her book and closed it.

“How long?”

“It can range from a week to three months. It’s never the same, and I won’t know for long I’ve been hibernating until I wake.” She’s going to ask if she can come with me. Oh Annie, please…

As she serious as he had ever seen her, she asked, “Can I come with you?”

He sandwiched one of her hands in his as he shook his head. “No. It’s far too dangerous. Best to stay here and—” Please don’t fight me on this. It’s too dangerous. Far, far too dangerous.

Anais smiled sadly. “Carry on as best I can.”

The two sat in silence for a few moments before he spoke again. “I will write to your mother, Nadia, and Astarion to see if any of them would like to be with you while I’m gone. Or perhaps Gale could make the trip from Waterdeep. Or Shadowheart and her parents?” I would also suggest Wyll and Karlach, but alas, they cannot return from Avernus, and gods know where Lae’zel is.

Her other hand now rested on the top of his. “Oh no, please. I don’t want to be a bother. Besides, I’m not alone when I have Scratch, Horace, and Obie here. And there’s also everyone in town. I’ll be okay.” She reassured him with a kiss on his cheek.

Their foreheads touched as he closed his eyes. I don’t want you to feel alone. I want you to be surrounded by love and care while I hibernate. It will make my sleep much more peaceful. “Since we have coupled, we have not spent one night apart. I worry if my hibernation lasts more than a week or two you will be lonely, my heart.” And it breaks my heart to see you sad.

She wrinkled her nose and gave him a quick peck. “Oh, I’ll be alright. Don’t worry about me.” Impossible, dearest one. “Is there anything else we need to do before you, I assume, go into a cave and sleep?”

Halsin chuckled heartily. “Yes! I’ll start scouting for one tomorrow. There is something else, Annie. I need to put on some weight.”

Anais raised an eyebrow. “How much?”

“Usually between forty to sixty pounds. Though,” he remembered a specific hibernation, soon after the Shadow Curse took hold. “There was one time I barely put on forty pounds, and it was…erm, not a pleasant experience. So please forgive me if I eat us out of house and home for the next several weeks.” Upon hearing her laugh, he shook his head. “You’re taking this remarkably well, my heart.”

She waved a dismissive hand with a grin. “To be honest, when you pass a certain point, some things are just filed under ‘strange but interesting druid things.’ This happens to be one of them.” Giving him a kiss on the cheek, she rose to check the items in the oven. “Ooh, these are all done.” Taking the honey cakes out of the oven, she placed the tray on the stovetop. “Nice and fresh, love, though if you’re going to grab one or two, just wait until they cool a bit.”

Chuckling, he rose and embraced her from behind, his large, calloused hands resting on her apron covered belly. “I was…thinking of something else, my love. As I make ready for hibernation, what if I leave you a piece of me?” We’ve spoken about this before, but why does my heart race so?

“A piece of you, hm? A lock of your hair perhaps?” She cannot be serious. “Or,” Praise Silvanus, she’s teasing. “Something else entirely?”

He huffed a breath as he tugged on her earlobe. “Does ‘something else entirely’ cover me filling you to the brim with my seed until it takes, blessing us with a child?”

A small gasp escaped her, her hands now covering his. Attempting to cover mine. Hers are smaller…and so very lovely. “What a coincidence it does! When shall we begin, Halsin love?”

He gave her a quick squeeze before releasing her and taking a honey cake. “Right after I have a few of these, my heart.”

They spent the rest of the day in bed---laughing, making love, and Halsin leaving the bed every so often for more honey cakes. How blessed am I to love a woman who is brave, brilliant, beautiful, and an excellent baker. Annie is truly one of a kind.

***

Halsin was in heaven.

Or what was as close as he would get to it.

In wildshape, he was on his back in a small clearing outside Moonrise, his belly full of fruit, milk, and honey as Anais scratched behind a soft ear. She had been reading a book her mother sent (“More bawdy romance, love” she said) after a morning filled with music lessons for the children. She has taken on the role of teacher so well. The way she lights up when they learn something new is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.

“I still have some more strawberries if you’re still hungry, my handsome bear.” she said sweetly. Annie always casts Speak to Animals or drinks a Potion of Animal Speaking before I go into wildshape. The sweetest and most thoughtful woman alive… “There’s still plenty of honey too.”

He huffed. “In a short while, my heart. Need things to settle first.”

She nodded, her nose wrinkling. “Alright, love.” Placing her bookmark where she left off, she closed the book and put it down. She then shifted so she was sitting closer to the bear’s middle. “Belly rub?”

Silvanus preserve me. “If…if that is something you wish to do, sweet one, then by all means.”

Anais slowly rubbed circles on his fur-covered belly, humming her favorite waltz. To Halsin, he had never seen a more beautiful sight. The way the sun is hitting her skin, it appears as if she’s glowing with radiance. Oak Father, thank you for sending her to me. Upon hearing him moan, she chuckled. “That good, huh?”

“You’ve no idea…feels so good, my heart…”

She puckered her lips a little and winked at him. Another way of giving each other kisses while I’m in wildshape. “Good. And don’t worry, my beautiful bear---I love doing things for you, big or small.” How true that is, especially anything with the children. She adores every child and acts as a mother to all. “Oh, and before I forget---the care package from Mum should be arriving tomorrow or the day after. I told her to put in lots of snacks with honey in them for you.”

Halsin groaned loudly as she continued her ministrations. “So thoughtful, lover. You’re so good…” As I hope I am to you. Perhaps I should show her how much I adore her. A golden glow surrounded him as he wildshaped back into an elf. “Come here to me…”

Smiling softly, she shifted to lay down next to him, curling into his more substantial side. Not that she minds. I could be a worm, and she would love me. Blessings be upon you, Oak Father. Thank you for her. “Always coming to you. For you. On you.” She snorted, beginning to laugh. “With you.” They laughed for a few minutes with Halsin tickling her upper arm.

He pressed several kisses to her red hair and murmured, “Come with me before you start supper. Come with me after. Come with me once more after dessert…and more…” Seeing the knowing grin tugging on her lips, he held onto her wide hips as she straddled him. And mindful of how full I am. I am blessed. “More…” She will know how much I desire her.

She rocked a little on the ever-growing bulge in his trousers and chuckled. “And you accuse me of being greedy? You’ve been wanting me more than usual, lover. I’m not complaining, mind you.” Her hands traveled down her sides and rested on top of his. “Is this how it usually is for you when preparing for hibernation?”

He furrowed his brow. “Hmm, the fire burns a little hotter some years but never like this.”

Anais thought for a moment. “Maybe because the burdens you once carried---the battle at Moonrise, the Shadow Curse, Thaniel, the responsibilities of the grove---are no longer present? You said yourself your heart feels lighter than it has in centuries.”

“Very true. It could be that. It could be something else entirely. However,” he squeezed her hips and stared at her with his most loving gaze. “I will choose to believe it is because of you.” After all, it is because of you that light shines here once more. Nature thrives here because of you. My heart is full of joy every day because of you.

Her cheeks flushed pink. Nature blessed her in so many beautiful ways. “You are quite possibly the sweetest man to ever exist,” she smiled brighter than a million suns. “And I adore you.” Untying the laces on his breeches (which are far too tight in more ways than one), she freed his aching member, earning her a groan. “Time to come with me, love.” Hiking up her dress a little, she slowly sank down his massive length and not being silent about it as is her way. Finally, be loud, my heart! “Decided against panties today…had a feeling we’d be…” Yes. Good. Very good, my love. “Gods, I’ve no idea how I get you inside me every time…you’re so bloody huge…”

“Ah, and yet, you take me so well!” He let her adjust to him for a few moments until he was fully hilted inside her. Oak Father take me. She is your most lovely creation. Thrusting slowly, Halsin bit back a moan as she rolled her soft hips. “Annie…my love…”

She clenched around him and squeezed her brown eyes shut. “W-what do you desire?”

“To stay like this…and…” He licked his lips. “The honey.”

With ease, Anais summoned a pair of mage hands that opened the jar of honey and brought it back to her and Halsin. “How should we do this?” She clenched around him and moaned softly. “Eat honey off my hand? Pour?”

“Pour…please, my heart…” He panted, his cock twitching inside her. Oak Father, fill me with your bounty, and let me fill her with my seed. “Please, I beg of you…”

Her cheeks turned redder as she smiled sweetly, tipping the jar towards his lips. “No need to beg, my handsome bear.” She cooed. “I can’t possibly tease the one who owns my heart, can I? Not when he’s been so incredibly good to me lately.” Her smile grew brighter as he swallowed the honey. How am I so blessed? It is the highest honor to hold your heart, dearest one. “That’s it, Halsin love. Jar’s almost empty, and then,” she winked. “Want to me to bounce on your cock for a bit?”

Gulping down the rest of the honey, his calloused hands squeezed her soft hips and thrusted upwards making her to moan. More. I must have more. My blood is on fire. All I want is her. All I need is her. Her. Annie. My heart. My everything.

His everything then tossed the empty jar aside as Halsin swallowed, rolling her hips slowly. “Fucking hells, you’re so bloody much, love…” She reached for his hands, grasping them in hers. “Gods…Halsin, fill me…please…”

“As if…I can ever…deny you…” He huffed, thrusting with as much frequency as he could. He could feel his own end coming quickly but hoped as always that she comes first. It is only right that my sweetest Annie experience pleasure before me. Giving one of her hands a squeeze, he let go. The hand dove under her dress to find the spot where they were joined and began to rub furiously. He reveled in her reaction---completely, openly, happily debauched. That I am the cause of her pleasure brings me so much joy…more so knowing that she feels the same for me. “And if this doesn’t take…I shall fill you again, my love.” So close. Oak Father, hear me---let me bring her bliss always. Let this be the seed that creates life.

“HALSIN!” Anais screamed as her orgasm ripped through her.

Moments later, he reached his own peak, hazel eyes glowing gold. Several grunts escaped him as he once again gripped both her hands. “Annie…” Halsin sighed, feeling not only impossibly full but entirely spent.

She rolled off him and onto her back, staring at the sky. “Yes?”

“Perhaps we may nap here a while before returning home?” He waited for her to respond before noticing she immediately fell asleep. Chuckling, he laid on his side and brushed a few strands of red hair out of her perfect face. “Rest now, sweet one, for there will be more later.”

***

Today is the day. Halsin heaved a sigh as his feet hit the bedroom floor. Today I will leave to hibernate. Today I leave Annie for who knows how long. Annie, my love… As tears began to form in his eyes, he remembered something she said the previous night that made his heart feel lighter.

“Think of it this way---you’re taking a lot of me with you.” Anais wrinkled her nose, giggled, and kissed his cheek. “About sixty pounds worth, I’d say. I’m keeping you snuggly warm until you wake and return to me.”

He was not ashamed to admit that he began to cry after hearing her say that and held her in his arms for some time, refusing to let her go. Not that she minds. She once said if she could spend eternity in my arms she would. The feeling is certainly mutual, my heart.

“I packed a few more herbs to make healing potions in your bag. And some freshly baked cinnamon rolls!” Anais said as she leaned in the doorway of their bedroom. While she was smiling, it did not reach her brown eyes. “I keep trying to think if there’s anything else you need—”

Halsin held up a hand. “You’ve done enough, my love. I am more than prepared for hibernation.” Standing, he grabbed the only pair of trousers that still fit and put them on. “All thanks to you of course.” He smiled warmly at her as he tied them. Loosely. They’ll be off as soon as I reach the cave. Then wildshape. Then sleep. And hopefully dream of her. “Your mother is still arriving tomorrow?”

“Yes. I think she might be staying longer than originally planned. Now that she knows the Ironworks can indeed function without her, she wants to see just how long it can function without her.” She giggled and walked to Halsin, giving him an adoring look over. “Gods, you’re gorgeous. Do you know that, love?”

He enveloped her in his arms and pressed a kiss to her head. “I am nothing when compared to your beauty. Nature truly outdid itself when it created you.”

She rested her head under his chin and grinned. “Flatterer.”

“It’s not flattery when it’s true, my heart.”

Normally she would banter with him further. Instead, she hummed softly and ran her hands over his back and sides. “I’m going to miss you.” She whispered after a few minutes.

Annie, please. I do not wish to cry. I want to leave you with a smile, not with any more tears. “As I will miss you, sweet one. Oak Father willing, I will return to you much sooner than we think.” He cupped her face and kissed her forehead gently. OH! “Remember that Eustace loves—”

“The lavender soap at bathtime. I know. They’ll be alright.”

He had said goodbye to the children the previous night, and while it was not easy for anyone (there were many tears shed and hugs given), he knew they were in the best hands. “Forgive me, I—”

She silenced him with a short kiss and a knowing smile. “We’ll be alright. Now,” she stepped back and sighed, hands on her hips. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

He laughed and hugged her one more time. “I love you, Annie.”

More than you will ever know.

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

Gregariousness (Geo x Sociable and Loud! MC/Reader)

For @ch1mmichurry! Hope you enjoy Anon! :] - Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer Gregariousness: the quality of enjoying the company of other people.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Geo…well…to say he resents noise would be an understatement.

He prefers solitude, silence, serenity. You, on the other hand, are the opposite of all 3.

You’ve always been the life of the party, the one willing to perform stupid stunts or sing karaoke because…as you quote: “Why not.”

You remind him way too much of Deryl, which he also doesn’t appreciate, but hey, you’re friends with his friends, so he’s got to deal with you.

Only starts warming up once he realises you’re not an obnoxious little shit.

When you befriend the others, and start trying to talk to him (his attempts at intimidation only put a small dent into your confidence, unfortunately); he’ll tell you to shut up.

Plot twist, you don’t.

In fact, you make it a goal to try and talk to him.

“Geode! How’re you doin’?”

“Piss off.” 

Until the day he actually gets angry at you (mostly for existing).

Then you get crushed into smithereens a smidge upset and stop trying to get him to warm up (dw you’ve got Deryl and Crowe for emotional support).

But he got so used to it he honestly misses it (to his disdain).

So he starts anonymously sending you gifts, and learns to play the songs you like (in secret, obviously)

Will claim he ‘happened upon them’ if he ends up playing near you at some point (idek maybe their school have a theatre or smth???)

Anyway, eventually decides he’s fond of you (Geo thinking he’s fond of you actually means he *really* likes you btw)

Will approach you every now and then (he’s gotta worm his way in first, like you did to him), to the stage where he’ll just ‘coincidentally’ be in the same spots as you.

To him, you’re like a beam of bright light that sears away at the walls he’s built up over several years, and part of him yearns for said walls to fall. (Sadly that part of him is teensy small and it’ll take a long time for him to fully open up)

Doesn’t actively attempt to murder you if you call him Geode after a while, as long as Deryl doesn’t find out. Then he totally would.

If you’re more physically affectionate, he’ll rarely let you give him headpats. He’ll pretend he fucking hates them, but by this point you know him too well.

Doesn’t exactly understand why you need to socialise so often, but he won’t stop you…he simply wants to know:

Who you’re with.

Where you are.

What you’re doing.

Are there people he resents there.

Are you going to drink.

And that’s him being lenient.

Seems to be the most nonchalant mf ever, but trust me, if he ends up liking you, he’ll end up stalking observing you, ensuring you’re safe and making sure to swoop in as soon as he decides you’ve talked to enough people that day.

Essentially, he won’t be fond of the need for interaction (isn’t he more than enough?) but he’ll last. He likes his alone time, after all.

You both agree to try and improve (you talk quieter around him, he tries to be a tad warmer), and, if this mutually beneficial relationship situationship works out, well. He’ll appreciate it.

The fact you - despite still being a walking, talking megaphone - still actively make an effort is good for him; he has patience, he can wait as long as both sides show commitment to the cause.

Will ask you out at the end of school, so if he you died of happiness, no nosy shitbiscuits will try and pull something. (I think he is the type to believe in the Evil Eye, at least somewhat)

Because albeit your nature, people adore you…or hate you, but you don’t care.

So yes, Geode does lov- appreciate you. And will continue to do so. For the rest of his life. What can he do? He’s in love with very fond of you!

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------- A/N: Gonna work on a set of headcanons/short story oneshots for a...pretty angsty idea I had. (I love angst so much it's a tad concering actually)...but no matter! Send requests my way, I'm more than happy to oblige with requests. :]]

[stayandot8]

Picnic

Genre: fluff

Relationship type: marriedSeungmin x fem reader

Important Contents: request, which you can see here. I hope you like it, it came to me quickly. It's short but i hope that's okay. :)

WC: 1.0K

masterlist

“Dad, stop throwing it over my head!” 

“I’m not throwing it over your head, you’re just not moving!”

They’d been at it for hours, Seungmin trying to get her ready for baseball season coming up. He was preparing her for her tryouts, or trying to anyway. 

“You need to jump, Ji-a! You won’t catch any balls standing still! You might be tall for a ten year old but you still need to jump!” 

“I am jumping!”

“Lifting your feet off the ground does not mean you're jumping!”

Seungmin didn’t like to lose an argument. I was of the opinion that it was because he didn’t like to be wrong. He was a Virgo after all. However, so was the girl in front of him, sporting his dark hair and rounder eyes. She had his sporting abilities too. I liked to joke that she got everything from him, but he disagreed at the very thought. He claimed she got her charming personality and nose from me, but I rarely believed him. But everytime she got him to do something he didn’t plan on doing, I had a glimpse of it.

It wasn't hard for her to do. Her father had taught her well. A solid argument with solid evidence to support her positions always went a long way with him. He was a fair dad, always asking for reasons as to why she felt the way she did about things; why she wanted to continue singing, why she wanted to play baseball, how she planned to use these talents for later life. She had them, the reasons. But when I reminded her that she didn’t need many more reasons other than it made her happy, she said she wouldn’t ask to do something if it didn’t make her happy. She was a good kid like that. Not to mention that she was as funny as her father. 

The two of them drew closer, making the park we were in seem larger by comparison. They tossed the ball back and forth while they spoke to each other, too far for me to hear. I assumed they were discussing how she could perfect a jumping catch, because he was lifting his leg and hopping on one foot, demonstrating something. She was listening intently, nodding along with him. As much as she pulled his leg, she knew that he was a fountain of knowledge for the things she wanted in life; baseball, singing, tormenting her friends. She showed them more often than he used to how much she loved them, though. I made sure of it. 

Seungmin took too long to admit his feelings for me, so I didn't want our daughter to be the same way. I consistently showed her how showing her affection to everyone on the outside was helpful for not just her, but for them too. She grasped the idea quickly. It came naturally after that. 

I used the opportunity to spread the prepared food we had made across the blanket I set out when we first arrived under a tree, shading from the blazing sun. The book I had been reading lay forgotten since I had looked up at the first yell from Ji-a. Then the discussion started and I had been watching ever since. But now, the food spread was complete and plates had been put out, I called the two of them over to our spot. 

“We need to build up your leg strength, that’s the best way to do it. But until then, we'll just practice that last one I showed you.” 

“Okay but what about-”

“Oh you two. Enough baseball talk, please.” I handed Seungmin a steamed bun to shove in his mouth. He chuckled at my outburst, shaking his head at his twin. 

“Sorry, sorry. We can talk about Ji-a’s recital coming up.”

“Yes, I like that idea much better. Did you find a dress you liked, sweetheart?”

Ji-a pulled out her phone from the pocket of her sweats. “I’m stuck between the blue and the green one.” She held it out for me to see what she had taken screenshots of. “Thanks again for the phone, dad. It’s really cool.” 

“Don’t thank him, thank your uncle Changbin. He’s the one who told us he’d hook us up with his Samsung deal.” I held the phone up to my face, looking at the beautiful options. One was a very pretty blue one with lace and flowers all over it. The other was a more muted green, pale with tulle around the bottom. 

“I like them both, honey. Which one do you like more?” I handed the phone to Seungmin, who was mid-chew on another bun. He glanced at the two dresses and handed the phone back to her, waiting for her answer.

‘I can't decide, mom! I have no clue. I asked Uncle Jeongin too and he didn’t know either. He wasn’t helpful at all.”

“Did you ask any of your other uncles?”

“No. Dad said they wouldn’t be of much help other than Uncle Jeongin.”

“And I stand by that.” Seungmin shot her a very serious look. “I like the blue, sweetie. I think it will make you stand out.” 

She thought for a moment. “I think I agree. The blue, mom!” I nodded.

“We can go looking for it this weekend when you have a break from school.” 

She grinned, satisfied, and dove into a steamed bun of her own. I continued, “I was thinking we could curl your hair and put some pretty makeup on if you want.”

“She doesn’t need it.” Seungmin grimaced disapprovingly. 

“I know that, daddy, but it helps me feel even more pretty than I already am.” 

“You know what would make you even prettier?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, making her giggle. “Learning how to jump!” 

“Ohmygosh, dad, I can too jump! Watch!” She dropped her bun and leapt into the air, jumping in the opposite direction of us with her ponytail swinging as she went. Seungmin dropped his bun as well. 

“Jump as high as me, come on!” 

I glanced at their forgotten buns on the blanket and pursed my lips, wondering how I was going to get those two to sit down to eat. But then again, there were always other things she could be into.

[astarionancuntnin]

Taming a Tempest

summary: oh, to be the Vampire Ascendant's dark consort. to have eternity and enhanced powers right at her finger tips - only to be denied. but two could play this game, and Malva would make Astarion regret witholding anything from her.

rating: E

word count: 3.5k

pairing: ascended astarion x consort malva (oc, evil!sorcerer!tav)

cw: 18+. post-game setting with an "evil" ending, mention of violence/murder, smut, hate sex, vampire sex (blood/bites), bdsm (Master/Pet, teasing, choking, slapping, degradation and praise), semi-public sex, overstimulation, p in v, possessive sex, creampie. full list on ao3

a/n: song inspo was BURY YOU by ari abdul

read on ao3

or keep reading down below~

Love.

It was such an alien concept to her. 

A weakness, something to take advantage of, to manipulate. 

A weapon.

Charming people, luring them away, leading them to their demise — for business or for fun, although the two coincided more often than not in her case.

So when Astarion first flirted with Malva, she saw right through his little games, but instead of giving him a taste of what she could do, she decided to play along. After all, he could be a distraction, but one she could afford.

Until it turned out to be more, and she realised she had fallen harder for him than she anticipated, and soon enough he was offering her eternity by his side, as his consort. Obviously, as the promise of everlasting life and uncontested power were all that she desired and more, her choice was clear.

However, after a few years of this, life became dull, and Malva found herself wanting — no, needing, more. She had had as much fun as she desired, killing, torturing, draining, now too. She had risen to the top of the city’s hierarchy, along with Astarion, while the city itself became a shadow of its once glorious self. But it had all become dull, and she wanted more, always more power. 

A routine had settled, and with the rules her Master established to keep a minimum of decency around the palace, she couldn't indulge as much as she would've preferred, and recently, it had become an itch that she urged to scratch. If she was already bored after a measly few years, eternity would be dreary.

“Kill only the targets I assign you, and no matter what, you are forbidden from bedding them.” He had ordered her. “You can seduce them, tease them, even, but I won’t allow anyone to lay their tainted lips on your body. You are mine, and mine only.”

Following this command was simple enough; next to her Master and herself, all her victims were considered lowly people, insignificant. 

Tonight, her Lord organised a soiree of debauchery to share a part of his ever growing army of spawns; those who specialised in pleasures of the flesh. He had repurposed the mansion’s rooms to turn it into a luxurious whorehouse, inviting the remaining power figures in the city — all more corrupt than the last — to establish an alliance.

That’s what he made it out to be, but really, everyone knew this was only meant as a show of power from the Vampire Ascendant. To show everyone else who owned this city, and exactly what their fates could be if they accepted his reign, and make an example of those who were to challenge his authority.

Just like this pretentious Lord who dared to gossip about him and his consort, questioning their position, but it didn't matter; he would be dealt with, just like the others.

Malva was well known across town; the Ascendant’s whore, she had heard, being passed around by the visitors that the vampire Lord deemed worthy. How ignorant of them, how perfectly blind they were to reality.

Her shoulder-length, light purple hair was let down for the night, and she wore a simple eyeliner and mascara, emphasising her soulless, black eyes. Her natural features hid her vampiric nature perfectly, blending in as nothing more than a mean-looking high elf, and Astarion made sure to keep this a secret. The only piece from her ensemble to hide the one proof of her immortality being her neck piece: a dark, thick choker, that hid the otherwise evident bite marks depicting her ownership, with a conveniently placed silver ring in the back of it, barely hidden by her hair.

She made sure to wear one of her most revealing dresses to fit the occasion, one that fit Astarion’s ensemble; a dark, see-through dress, with vines of bright red oleander flowers embroidered onto the long sleeves and bleeding over her chest, barely covering her nipples, knowing anyone who looked at her for too long would get their eyes gouged out by her Lord. A smile crossed her dark lips at the thought.

As Malva scanned the ball room, sitting in display over her Lord’s lap, she found her target: Lord Azarzi. 

He might’ve been considered handsome by mortal standards; with his deep brown eyes, short, wavy hair and a full moustache of the same colour, a bright smile and tanned skin. Faerûn would lose yet another soul tonight.

How tragic. How exquisite.

Through their bond, Astarion felt her delicious hunger for blood.

“Now, now, pet, no need to be hasty.” he purred close to her ear. “Remember what’s at stake; I'll reward you if you're good,” he let go of her waist, pushing her towards the open floor, where the remaining guests waited for an available room. “Now go on, make me proud.”

She always did; seeing her work her way around their enemies was a delightful sight to him, she was his most precious possession, and he loved to see her in action. 

Although Astarion’s rewards were nothing short of delightful, she was dying to know what a punishment would look like.

She had to have her fun one way or the other, and if he wasn’t going to allow it, she would show him that she never asked for permission in the first place.

Her bloodlust naturally guided her next movements, fluidly passing through the crowd as she made her way to her victim of the night.

“Lord Azarzi,” she greeted him, his name gracefully rolling on her tongue. “I'm pleased to see you have accepted our invitation.” 

“Ah, Lady Tavaler,” he reached for her hand, lifting it to give it a light kiss before letting it go. “Of course, I could never refuse an invitation from the mighty Vampire Lord.”

She despised the use of her name, but tried to shrug off its mention, along with the vivid images she had of how long and painful would this man's torturing be. All in due time.

“Call me Malva, please. I don't believe titles are quite necessary for this kind of occasion, don't you think?” She moved closer towards him, her hands finding the front of his shirt, tracing her way down his chest. “Have you had the chance to enjoy our exquisite company yet?”

He shivered under her touch, her sharp, dark nails digging through his shirt, “I'm afraid I haven't yet, no. Your rooms are quite busy, as it turns out.”

She clicked her tongue, “That simply won't do.” She took a hold of his hands, guiding them over her waist where they now laid, and pressed herself into him. “You're our guest of honour, you deserve the best treatment.”

His eyes peered down her dress, where her breast squeezed against his chest, with his hands lowering towards her ass, fully bare under her dress. “Do I now?”

She would enjoy killing him.

Her lips ghosted over the shell of his ear as she whispered, “Absolutely.” 

Her eyes darted towards Astarion, and she smiled wickedly when she noticed the way his hands dug into the armrests at his side, fighting to contain the seething fury within him. 

“Why don’t you follow me into one of our classier suites, reserved for the richest of our guests?” She continued, with her hand dancing around the back of his neck, guiding him into her, “I’ll personally take care of you tonight, if you will have me. Consider it a gift from the Vampire Ascendant, for accepting his invitation.”

He smiled, his brown moustache lifting along his lips, “Well then, who am I to deny the Vampire Lord himself?”

Her dark smile reached her cheeks, keeping her lips closed to hide her fangs, “I was hoping you would say that.”

As she grabbed his hand to carry him away to her special chambers where she guided all her victims, she felt the reach of Astarion’s mind.

“Careful, pet, wouldn’t want me to be jealous, would you?”

“Jealous? Of this meek mortal? My Lord, that doesn’t sound very highly of you,” she answered back through her mind.

“You know how I feel about people touching you, Malva. This is my last warning.”

“And here I thought you were the most powerful being of this city. I wasn’t planning on bedding this man, but maybe I should now. Maybe he’ll show me how a real man fucks and he’ll make me come in ways you never could.”

Oh, she could feel Astarion’s anger even from this distance. Good.

She didn’t make it to the room before she felt the Lord at her back pinning her to the nearest wall, his body pressing against her, rubbing his bulge between the curves of her ass.

“So the rumours were true; the vampire Lord has a whore as a wife…” He chuckled deeply, his hands roaming at the front of her dress, groping her breasts through her dress. “I have to admit, I always wondered how the Ascendant’s witch would feel stretched around my cock.” He breathed hard down her neck, his tongue tracing just below her ear, “Do you wanna find out, doll?”

She tilted her head as an invitation, “I believe I can please you in more interesting ways, my Lord.”

“That so?”

She smiled a toothy grin, “Ways you could only ever dream of.”

He scoffed, pulling back to free her from his hold on her, “Fine, I’ll bite, show me what you can do.”

The irony of his choice of words wasn’t lost on her, as she turned back to face him, unbuttoning his shirt to expose his muscled chest. A shame he had to die really, he had at least some potential.

Pulling back on his rolled down shirt, she guided her head into his neck where she breathed in his essence; pine and charcoal, with hints of citrus. Not the most displeasing, but would he taste the same?

She closed her eyes as she licked along the vein popping from his neck, her next feeding point, and he groaned, “You’ll have to try harder than that to please me, sweetie.”

Just as her tongue licked over her threatening teeth, about to dive her fangs into the delicious vein put on display just for her, she felt him being pushed into her, and when she opened her eyes, she was met with the very face of her Creator.

He twisted the blade into his back before pulling it out to slam it back into him countless times, blinded by his anger, as Malva was sprayed of his coughed up blood, adding a nice shade of red onto her pale, tattooed face and staining her skin through her dress. 

Lord Azarzi, now nothing but a lifeless corpse, sank to his knees before collapsing on the wooden, waxed floor.

“Really? That was a waste of perfectly fine blood,” She grunted as she crossed her arms, dismissing the body at her feet. “Now how am I going to feed tonight? This is as good as rotten.”

“Oh, you don’t get to give me that attitude,” He growled, grabbing her by her throat and pushing her against the same wall she was pinned to moments ago. “Not after teasing me like you did.”

She smiled, flashing her fangs, “I don’t see what you’re talking about.”

“You insolent, little brat,” He tightened his grasp on her neck and her mouth opened up with a gasp. “I’m a lenient Master, giving you liberties and letting you practice your art in the comfort of our own home, and yet here you are, spitting on my generosity.”

“I just followed your orders, Master.”

“Oh no, no, no,” he clicked his tongue. “I ordered you to kill this man, and I had to do it myself, because you decided to play with your food.”

“It’s not my fault you’re an impatient bastard,” she spat out, defying his gaze.

His eyes turned a darker shade of red and Malva knew she had pushed him to his limit.

“That’s it. I’ve had it with you.”

He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a leash he clipped to the back of her collar before yanking on it, sending her to the floor. 

“I think you’re long overdue for a corrective measure, don’t you think, my dear?”

She pulled back against it, pointing towards the remains of the lord she had lured away, “What about my drink? Are you really gonna make me starve?”

“I don’t think you deserve it, frankly,” he sneered.

“Gods, I hate you.”

“Now, now, where are you manners, dear? This isn’t how I trained you, is it?” He pulled her up, grabbing her by her throat. “Is it?”

She hissed through her teeth, “I’m not yours to tame.”

“Let’s see about that.”

He walked her to the nearest chair and bent her over his lap, keeping a tight hold on his leash to have her stand upright.

“Now,” he lifted her dress to reveal her bare ass, “I will give you a slap for each victim you have claimed within these walls.”

As she opened her mouth to speak up he gave another yank on her leash, silencing her. “Don’t you worry, I am a merciful Master; we’ll keep it to the number of souls you’ve claimed just this year. Twenty, was it?”

She tried to turn around to contest his claim, only to be met with a first slap on her ass.

“However, any other words you utter will count as an additional slap, understood?”

“Fuck you.”

Another slap, stronger this time, made her yelp.

“Twenty two, then.”

She gritted her teeth, debating on her next comment.

Slap. “Cat got your tongue, my sweet?” Slap. “Please, I would love to know what you think of me now—” Slap.

She cried, the sting spreading to her thighs.

“Do you still hate me?” Slap. “Do you fucking loathe me?” Slap. “Answer.” Slap.

“Yes!” She shouted. “Yes I do, fuck!”

“In that case, let’s make this more interesting; any sound coming from you will warrant an additional gift from my hand, hm?” Slap. “How’s that sound, darling?” Slap.

She yelped once more, the burning sensation of his palm against her taking her by surprise.

“One more, then.” Slap.

She bit her lip, silencing her moans. 

“That’s better.” Slap. “See how pretty you look on my lap?” Slap. “With your cheeks all red and your pussy all wet?” Slap. “Wet from me punishing you—” Slap. “ — like the little brat you are?” Slap.

“Would this be as fun if I didn’t have control over you, pup?” Slap. “Do you see how silly of you it is to desire anything more than I already have offered you?” Slap. “Don’t you love to be my little whore to put on display?” Slap.

Tears swelled to the corner of her eyes and her fists balled up, nails digging into the soft of her flesh as she held back the cries stuck in her throat.

“You’re doing so good for me, so incredibly well, my love.” Slap. “And look at you, not making any sound at all.” Slap. “Such an obedient little consort, all mine.” Slap.

“Last one now, are you ready? You can speak.”

She breathed hard, taking a moment to utter an answer, “Yes.”

He landed the last slap, harder than all the previous ones, and leaned in to whisper into her ear.

“Say ‘thank you Sir for my punishment’,” he rubbed her ass, bright red from his abuse.

Her mascara ran down her face, mixing in with the dry blood from the corpse laying not too far away.

“Thank you, Sir… for my punishment,” her voice was small and quiet, tamed.

“Now,” he easily dipped two fingers into her drenched pussy. “Do you think you’re ready for your reward, pup?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Get up, and remove my pants.”

Her shaky legs made it hard to stand up, but she followed his orders nonetheless. Removing his trousers, she set his raging erection free, veins popping out and already leaking from his arousal; the sight was both terrifying and incredibly exciting.

“Lift your dress back up and sit on my cock. You’re going to take all my come inside of you, and then we’ll go back to the party, understand? I want everyone to smell me on you. We can’t have people doubting my ownership after seeing you walk away with another man, can we?”

She nodded and did as he asked, straddling him with her hips lowering themselves onto his shaft with ease, and finally allowing herself to moan as she felt his length filling her up.

“Fuuuuuck,” he sank his nails into her hips, pushing her deeper. “You’re perfect my love, so perfect. Keep going for me, you’re doing amazing.”

The echo of their thighs slapping against each other faded with the sounds of pleasure from the neighbouring rooms, and Astarion wanted theirs to be louder.

His thumb found its way over her clit, pushing her closer to the edge as he rubbed circles around it, striking every nerve in her. Her hands grabbed onto the armrests, holding on for dear life as the stimulation became too much and her moans grew louder with each thrust.

“Come on, pet. If you come around my cock I’ll give you a little treat. You love treats, don’t you?” She nodded, words failing her. “Good, now make your Master proud, come for me, and scream as loud as you can.”

When she cried out from her earth shattering climax, it's as if the rest of the world paused around them, and it was only her and him, lost in one another. Every touch, every thrust, was all too much, pleasure blending in with pain as Astarion kept pounding into her.

The sight of Malva losing herself on his lap was almost enough for him to implode, she was only missing a single thing.

“Are you thirsty, my dear?”

She nodded, tears rolling down her defiled cheeks.

“Come here,” he pulled the collar of his shirt aside, giving her an opening. “Drink.”

Without losing another second, she bit down into his exposed neck, and she drank. She drank like he was the oasis in the middle of a desert; parched and ravenous from her stolen meal from earlier, exhausted by how he had used her body.

He grabbed the base of her scalp and pulled her away from him, making sure she didn’t drink too much. He could only allow enough that would satiate her thirst without freeing her from him.

With his forehead pressing against hers, he groaned, ”Say that you're mine. Say that you love me.” 

“I… love you,” her voice trembled.

“Mhmh, that’s right, my sweet. That’s right.”

Whether she knew it or not, ever since he made her his, he guided this dance. Everything she did was carefully thought through by him, knowing exactly how she would react every step of the way. He was the one pulling her in, like a pet on a leash. His pet.

And no matter how much she wanted more power, she couldn’t deny that the pull of his control felt delicious against her neck.

“Now, let's try this again, pup. Who owns you?”

“Y- You.”

He pulled the leash backwards, “Who?”

“You, Master.”

“That's right little love, you're all mine. Even if your dark, stubborn heart thinks it hates me, even if you don't see it, even if you try to deny it, deep down, you love me, because you know I am everything you need.” He breathed hard into her ear, “I’m the only one who understands you, the only one who could truly love you the way you deserve it.”

With one last push of his hips, he came roaring inside of her, filling her to the brim with his thick ropes of warm come. His hands over her waist held her tightly around him, making sure her womb would take every drop of him.

He enraptured her lips with his, kissing her fervently to taste himself on her mouth. When he finally pulled back, they were both panting, “Was I too harsh, love?”

She shook her head, her eyes half-lidded still dizzy from her unbecoming, “No, you were perfect, Astarion.”

It was rare that she used his name, but he allowed it in moments of intimacy like this one. The sound of his name rolled deliciously on her tongue, it was as much a reward for her to say it as it was for him to hear it.

He lifted her to her feet, pulling down her dress to give her a minimum of decency before putting his pants back up, straightening his jacket, and replacing his hair to appear as graceful as he was before taming his consort.

She smiled, linking her arm with his as they walked back to the ballroom, completely enamoured, “I love you, my Lord.”

He smiled back, giving her a quick peck on her cheek, “I love you too, my sweet.”

Was it love? She doesn't know for sure. Maybe some twisted version of it.

Was it passion, in its most depraved and unhinged state, an obsession for one another that would leave this city in ruins? 

Most definitely.

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @nyx-knox @anacdoce @jwera @annnagennnie @angeldarkness95 @marlowethebard @hellethil @frankie-mercury @ariajc79 @ladycroft5245 @lets-just-daydream @pursuitseternal

[analogwriting]

Star-Crossed

Chapter 8: Hart

Donquixote Rosinante x gn!reader word count: 3.2k next

A month went by. Things were returning to normal at the hospital. It was business as normal, no pop up visits from your father. Corazon stopped coming by, which you expected. He did threaten you with a gun, after all. He also seemed to have zero trust in you now just because of who your father is - which is exactly why you had taken a different last name in the first place. To avoid natural distrust just because of your namesake. 

You also found yourself missing his little visits. It was always a breath of fresh air to see him standing in your lobby or doing something stupid. It always put a smile on your face and he just made you feel so at ease. Hell, you didn’t even see him outside of work. It seemed whatever game Fate had been playing, she was finished with it. 

Even the receptionists seemed to miss him. Not only were they unable to see their real life soap opera playing out in front of their very eyes, but they did enjoy his company. He was always so kind and polite to them.  You heard that he had also brought them some flowers once.

You even overheard Law talking about it with Shachi, Bepo, and Penguin. “I just don’t know what happened,” you had heard Law say, feeling your entire body freezing. He was just around the corner from you and you knew that you shouldn’t be listening, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were almost holding your breath to make sure that you didn’t make any noise.

“Really fumbled that one, honestly,” Penguin said, folding his arms and shaking his head.

“He was so into them. Now he won’t even talk about them. I tried to ask and he just shut me out.” You could hear the concern in Law’s voice. “It’s all so irritating.” He clicked his tongue.

“You don’t think the doctor rejected him do you?” Shachi asked, gasping and covering his mouth.

“No, I don’t think so. I would’ve had a moping Cora to deal with. Not…whatever the hell this is.” Law sighed. “He honestly hasn’t acted like this in a long time.”

“Maybe a new factor came in we didn’t know about?” Bepo suggested. “Something that could be a deal breaker?”

“I don’t know. There didn’t seem to be anything that happened that could’ve done that. I mean, all that happened was that y/n’s dad showed up and-”

Bepo gasped, covering his mouth in shock with whatever revelation he had. “Do you think their father threatened Cora?” 

Law scoffed, shaking his head. “Definitely not. Even if he tried, nothing scares him. At least not like that.”

The four of them shared a collective sigh and you took that as your cue. You rounded the corner. “Hey, boys.” They all jumped, looking at you with wild eyes. They were in such a state of panic that you had to keep yourself from laughing.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. “What? Did something happen?”

“No, doctor!” They all chimed, scattering in different directions. Well, Shachi and Penguin ran right into each other before scittering off. You watched with amusement, but couldn’t help but think about what Law said.

Had Corazon really been that into you? You didn’t understand it. You didn’t see it, but you supposed they saw more from the outside looking in. Pain settled into your heart and you just sighed. This was no time to be sad about it. You had a hospital to run. Besides, you didn’t have time for frivolous things like romance. At least, that’s what you were telling yourself to keep the disappointment at bay.

“Code Magenta.” A voice boomed over the speakers. Your eyes widened and you immediately began to run through the hospital as panic set in. You heard a couple of people ask what that meant as it’s a code not often used and especially not on this side of the hospital. You heard a few people just brushed it off, saying it’s just a special code for you - which wasn’t completely wrong.

Code Magenta meant that there was a life threatening emergency involving a child on the underground side of things. You only had this code one other time in the years that you’ve been in this hospital. The child had been involved with a domestic situation. You were able to save her and provide safe passage for her and her father out of that lifestyle. You occasionally received letters from them, updating you on things.

The last time you were barely able to save the child, you just hoped you’d be able to this time as well. You also knew that you wouldn’t have to worry about your hospital because Marco would step in while you were away. You could have your full attention on whatever the situation was.

And it was terrible.

A child was caught in the middle of a crossfire. A deal gone wrong and for some reason, they had brought their child. This is why you hated the fact that this lifestyle included their children or indoctrinated them at such a young age. There were plenty of ways to prepare a child for such a lifestyle without putting them in danger. You hated the lifestyle and wish children weren’t involved in any way, but such was life.

You immediately went into surgery. You spent hours just trying to keep this kid alive; removing bullets, sewing them up, mending broken bones, everything. You did everything in your power to help this kid.

But it wasn’t enough. 

The wounds were too great, the child too small. Most doctors would’ve declared him a lost cause the moment they laid eyes on him, but not you. You didn’t care how little of a chance he had of surviving, you were going to do everything in your power to try. After all, if you had that kind of thought process, you wouldn’t have been able to save Law all those years ago or the other small child that ended up coming through here.

Because of that mentality, your hospital mortality rate was incredibly low - you’ve only lost a few patients over the years. However, that mentality was also a double edged sword. Due to the fact that you cared so much and were so determined to defy odds, it also completely destroyed you every time you failed. You blamed yourself for not being good enough and that it was your fault they died. Which wasn’t the case, it wasn’t your fault. You did everything you could, but it always took you a minute to see that.

Marco also knew this. When he was trying to come up with some excuse for Robin and Law as they asked questions to what Code Magenta was and being too good at seeing through his lies, a voice boomed over the intercom once more. “Code Azure.” Now Marco was the one running across the hospital. Law and Robin called after him, but he was too quick and lost them almost immediately. Again, people were whispering and asking what it meant. Again, those who knew brushed it off saying it was a special code for Marco, which was true.

Code Azure was everything he needed to know. It was similar to Code Cyan, where you were emotional and needed him to keep you from losing it. This one was on a greater scale. That meant that no, you didn’t succeed and you were about to actually lose it. He just hoped it made it in time. 

You had a certain habit when this happened. A habit he had down. Typically, you’d start spiraling almost immediately. You’d grow numb and become a robot. Then you’d disappear. Never for very long and typically you ended up at a bar. The only tricky part was that you never went to the same bar, so he always had to hunt you down. Also you tended to be more rambunctious and squirmy when you drank, so just dealing with you in that kind of state was something he was trying to avoid. 

When he arrived on the other side, one of the nurses sighed before shaking their head. “They’re already gone.” 

Marco groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Why didn’t you stop them?” He glared at the nurse who licked her teeth and grimaced at him.

“It’s not like they exactly leave in the most conspicuous manner, you know this. One moment they’re there, the next they’re not.” With that, they left Marco to his own devices. He couldn’t just leave right now. There were still some things to take care of before he could leave. He also knew Law and Robin were probably waiting for an explanation. 

He pulled out his phone, texting his father to let him know the current situation. Pops could start looking while he finished things up here. It shouldn’t take him too long.

--

You weren’t exactly sure how you got here. One moment the single toned beep was ringing in your ears and now you were trying to figure out how the hell you were going to get home. You weren’t sure how much you drank, you never did when this happened. It was like you clocked out of your body for some hours and when you came back, someone else had taken the wheel and crashed.

You slowly slid from your seat, the world around you spinning. You held on to the edge of the bar, blinking hard as you tried to gather yourself. Fuck, you hated drinking. This is why you never did it, but this was just what you did every time. As if you were punishing yourself for something that was out of your control. Actually, that’s exactly what it was. You knew it was bad, you knew it was unhealthy, but you just felt like you couldn’t control it.

You took another deep breath, your world still spinning but you were able to handle it now. “You sure you don’t want me to call you a cab?” the bartender asked, looking at the state of you. You shook your head. “I’m gonna just walk it off. Some fresh air might do me good.”

The man just looked at you rather skeptically.

“And I don’t want to end up vomiting in someone’s car,” you mumbled. The bartender snorted, nodding. “There’s the truth I was looking for. At least you’re considerate. Just be careful on your way, okay?”

You nodded, offering a very drunken salute before stumbling out the door.

The cold air hit you like a slap in the face. You immediately felt everything coming up and rushed over to the bushes, unleashing whatever you had been putting into your stomach for the last couple of hours. Man, how did you do so much damage in so little time? What time even was it right now? Did you even have your phone?

Once you were done with that, you felt a whole lot better. The world was still tilted and moving slightly but you were able to stand up straight for the most part. Marco was going to kill you. You groaned, double checking yourself. You had your phone - which was dead, keys, and wallet. You manage to not upchuck all over yourself. Things were okay for now. You assumed your car was at the hospital. At least you had enough sense in your dazed state to walk instead of drive.

You started walking - well, stumbling - down the sidewalk. You moved slowly as if you were learning how to walk again. It didn’t take long before you were somewhat able to walk for the most part. 

At least, that’s what you thought before you tripped over yourself. There was no saving yourself. You braced yourself for impact only for it to never come. You opened your eyes, staring at the ground not far from your face. What the hell? That’s when you realized someone had you by the collar of your shirt.

You felt yourself being picked up and tossed over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. There’s only one person who it could be. Everything hit you all at once and Marco was the only person you really could unleash everything on. “Marco, I’m so sorry,” you grumbled, feeling the tears well up. “I tried everything I could, but it wasn’t enough.” You felt the tears start to fall. “Everything is just going wrong. I thought it was fine. Things would be fine, but it isn’t. I don’t know what’s going on.” You kept your face covered, laying limply over his shoulder as you sobbed. 

“He was so small, Marco.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “So small. His wounds were too great. They were for an adult, not a child. I went into this to save children, but I wasn’t able to. I couldn’t help him. God, why do they have to involve kids with their stupid lives. They don’t want this. They never do. I never wanted it. I just- What’s the point of being a doctor if I can’t save lives?” You were just blubbering at this point, no real structure to your sentences.

After another moment of crying, you calmed down a little bit. Then you realized something. Marco hadn’t said anything. He was usually scolding you by now. That, and he would never pick you up like this. He knew how squirmy you sometimes got and he usually opted for dragging you. “Marco?” you asked, sniffling and wiping your eyes. 

Hold on. Why were you this high off the ground? Marco wasn’t this tall. It couldn’t be Pops either, he was way taller. You tried to move, but felt the arm around your middle tighten. “Uh?” Panic was setting in. Were you being kidnapped, right now? You started squirming but to no avail. Unlike Marco, whoever was holding on to you seemed to have no trouble keeping you in place.

“Fucki-”

“Y/n.” You stopped as you heard a voice you hadn’t heard in a while. “Corazon?” Your eyes widened and you felt your face warm up. Of course he’s the one who found you like this. Of course. Of all people. Of all times. “Where…are you taking me?” Oh fuck, was he going to kill you? Had he actually been working with Doflamingo this whole time? A whole new wave of panic set in.

“To the hospital.” Oh. Well, that made sense. Leave it to your drunk state of mind to come up with insane scenarios. Besides, if he wanted to kill you, he would’ve done it already. It’s not like it was exactly hard to do when you were like this.

“Seems like the roles are reversed now, huh?” It seemed he was trying to lighten the mood. You blinked at his words, confused. “What do you mean?” Corazon chuckled softly. “Well, you’re usually the one stopping me from falling. Not the other way around. I’ve never seen you in such a state.” You felt your face set ablaze and you sputtered for a moment.

“Well, it doesn’t happen often,” you mumbled, yawning. Exhaustion was starting to creep up on you. “So, don’t get used to it.” You thought for a moment. “Huh, I guess the roles really are reversed.” You yawned again, feeling your body going slack. “You saved me from falling,” your voice slowly became softer as you were drifting off. “You pointed the gun at me just like I did to you when we met.” 

You felt Corazon stop. “What?” You covered your mouth, tiredly giggling. “Oops.” Now delirium was setting in. With the lack of sleep and the alcohol coursing through your veins, you were reaching a point in which you were honestly surprised you were still awake.

Corazon gently set you down on the ground and looked at you. “What did you mean by that?” You blinked, looking at him with half lidded eyes. You were barely able to stay awake. You felt yourself sway a bit and he put his hands on your shoulders to hold you steady. “When the hell did you point a gun at me, y/n?” 

You yawned, shaking your head. “A long time ago, you don’t remember.” Corazon studied your face as he tried to figure out what you were telling him. Honestly, you weren’t even processing what you were saying right now. You just looked at him through droopy eyes and watched as his face slowly came to the realization. 

“You’re-”

“Y/N!” A voice cut through the cold night air. Your ears perked up and you turned around, almost toppling over as you did so had Corazon not been holding on to you.

“MARCO!” You threw your hands in the air and grinned widely. “There you are! I was wondering when you’d find me.” You giggled as he ran over to you. 

Marco was panting, glaring at you. He stopped, putting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. You were doctors not athletes. “It’s okay. I was safe. Corazon was watching over.” You patted his hand that was still on your arm to keep you steady. “Good guy.” The next word that came out of your mouth was something you didn't even realize you were saying and you didn't even process. "Handsome too, huh, Marco?"

You turned back to Marco, who was fully standing up now that he recovered for the most part. He opened his mouth and you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. You’re going to scold me later.” You were not a fan of his scoldings, but at least it wasn’t as if you had to hear them often. 

“Let’s go, then,” he said. “Pops is on the way with the truck.” 

As if on cue, a large truck pulled up next to the three of you. “Y/n!” A voice boomed out of the window. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” You frowned, feeling bad for having worried the two of them. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

It wasn’t long before you were safely secured in the truck and you rolled down the window. “Thanks for helping me out there, Corazon,” you said with a sleepy smile, leaning against the side of the window.

He’d been silent since Marco showed up, not really knowing what to say. “What did you mean when you said you pointed a gun at me earlier?” You blinked at him slowly, trying to process his words.

“Oh, you don’t remember?” You were slowly starting to drift off now. “‘T all happened the night I met you…” You yawned one more time. “When I saved Law.” You stuck your arm out the window for him to see, pointing at the bullet wound scar. “Got this too when ‘Mingo’s guys jumped me. Which was unfair, we were trying to be all nice n’ stuff. Dad sent me in as an olive branch and I almost came out as swiss cheese.” You laughed as you rambled, pulling your arm back in and leaning against the side again.

“Time to go. Thanks, Corazon,” Marco said out his window before the truck took off, leaving the other man frozen in disbelief.

[valeskawhore]

SHERIFF! BIGBY WOLF!? X fem! Reader!

A/n: “So literally just finished my own interpretation of the telltales game, “The wolf among us” and I swear. I am Inlove with this man/hybrid, thingy.” So I figured why not write about it?

Here’s what it would be like for the one and only sheriff of Fable town to meet you..

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Arightly, we ALL know. This is pretty much basic information if you know anything about this man.

He doesn’t give a shit. Honest.

I mean, he cares. But especially with his “friendship” with snow in the series we all can already tell that this man has some serious authority issues.

He’s not used to people telling him what to do, and what to say or how to act. Bigby gets very offended in the series when one of the options for a response when beginning to talk to TJ about what he saw when Lilly died, snow asks bigby to be more “less like himself” he did not respond well..

He came from being the “big bad wolf” once upon a time. Nobody trusts him, and honestly, I think he prefers it that way.

All he’s ever done, or known for that matter is hurt. Pain. Being the one to always inflict it.

And because of this power of control, he was elected sheriff of fable town. Perhaps others in the higher power thought that it would be beneficial to work some of that natural rage out.

To wrap up, he’ll do things his way.. pretty often.

Depending on the circumstances always. Now if his way would put anyone in danger that he “cared” about on some kind of level, he’d avoid all conflict. He wants to change..

He just doesn’t know how. And he won’t trust anyone enough to show him.

Though.. when YOU came along..

You weren’t a fable, you weren’t rich.. you weren’t special.. you couldn’t turn into a troll or a fairy or even a wolf.

You were a mundy. A normie.

Ofcourse growing up in the “real” world your entire life, fairy tales were strictly “fairy tales” and that’s all there was to it.

On the way home one night from driving home, you drove into an unrecognizable neighborhood. But something about this place felt strange, almost like de ja vu..

Had you been here before..?

You saw a sign for the only sheriffs office in town and decided to stop their for directions.

The place was like a fucking motel..?

On the way to the elevator to find this office yourself, (since the fucking security guard was passed out cold) you bumped into a strong figure on the way in the elevator as he was coming out.

“Shit.. that was my last one,” the figure mumbled, his voice scratchy yet light.. familiar. The man took a step back and crossed his arms. His stair formed into one of disgust and annoyance.

The stranger took a step back and even.. EXAMINED you. He was tall.. stone cold even just by looking at him could you tell. His sniffed lightly, his nostrils expanding a little bit, with a wince, he finally spoke.

“A mundy huh?” He coughed out some smoke. A annoyed look on his face.

I stared at the man, confused and desperate for some sleep.. ‘did he say mundy? Or did I miss my medication today?.’ I questioned myself silently.

“Sir.. can you please repeat that?” I asked kindly, (or tried) I kept a smile on my face but even a dumbass like the tweedle twins could tell it was fake.

“Hm.” He scoffed a little. He pulled his hand up to his face and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “What can I help you with?” He grumbled, finally releasing his nose and crossing his arms once more. Trying to keep a smile, his was tense like my own.

Just two strangers staring at one-another, both tired and annoyed— trying to be polite.

I finally put my fake smile down and realized why I was even here to begin with. I tried to smile genuinely this time, “yes! Please I need to see the sheriff, or anyone honesty who can tell me where I am and why these roads are so confusing” I said that last part with a laugh, a shitty joke erupted from my nervousness. I mentally smacked myself.

This guy doesn’t wanna hear my shitty jokes.

The man tilted his head slightly and let out a loud sigh, “that’s me.. sheriff wolf.” I reached out my hand instantly for manners and mutual respect for the fact that we both obviously needed some good sleep and quiet.

He hesitantly shook my hand with a firm grip. His bottom lip puckered slightly, his jaw tense, though he didn’t let go my hand, just held it with quite the grip.

I stared at him and then down at our hands intertwined with eachothers. I let out a nervous laugh.. “hey Uhm—“

He cut me off, “well? Eh? You gonna tell me your fucking name or not.” His voice got stern, I felt myself shrinking under his gaze.

“Y/n” I laughed, but I felt a surge of sudden confidence take over me, my gaze locked on his, I squeezed his hand back just as hard, something about this seemed right.. our hands together.

“What’s your name sheriff?” I smiled,

The man stared me down, his eyes went to our hands then back to my eyes. I felt him shake in my grasp, whether with anger or fear, I didn’t know.. but I wasn’t some cute little girl.

“Bigby— sheriff bigby.” And he ripped his hand out of mine. His hands tensed, curling up into fists at his sides. “You’re in fable town, you must have taken a wrong turn missy. Cause this is NOT where you’re supposed to be.”

He warned, I laughed.

“I’d love an escort sheriff.”

“I don’t have a car”

“Big guy like you walks around eh?”

He growled, obviously not finding me amusing whatsoever. “Here” he took out a little note pad, he gave me the address for somewhere else.

“Follow the signs sweetheart” and with that, he walked away. The crumbled up piece of paper laid on the ground near my feet, I snatched it up with a scowl on my face.

“Fucking asshole.”

You didn’t know what to think of this guy, and that bothered you because you were the typa girl to always have a plan and analyze everything and everyone. You couldn’t read this guy, something about him.. felt so primal.. so inhuman.

His eyes, his canines, the facial hair even. The way he smelled for jimminy Christmas. He wasn’t normal,

Then again who was nowadays?

He was an asshole, stubborn and irritable over the smallest thing.. but.. why ..

Why couldn’t you stay away from him…?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You were annoyingly pretty. Almost suspicious.

Faith was dead, now Lilly, fables running around town causing shit with nothing better to do.. and now you?

He wouldn’t buy that ‘just got lost’ bullshit. Something was weird about this girl.. too eye catchy and doll like. Fragile and confident all the more. He needed to find out more about you.

You owed him a new pack of smokes too.