#i also wonder if its from almost a decade of ''him'' doing that to me ykwim? like projection almost

[moonlight-prose]

a request, if i may, of praising old man logan as he filfthly eats you out and it makes him combust the more you praise him? okay running away again

speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life

a/n: look at him taking off his glasses in absolute shock of this ask- no okay does old man logan have a praise kink? i would raise it higher and say every version of logan has a massive praise kink. this is a man who wants to know he's doing good in life. his love language is acts of service so he might get to hear a pretty thank you. also i'm not sorry for how feral this got. i have no explanation.

summary: he knew he loved you when your words begin to piece his heart back together. he knew he loved you when he flourishes at your praise. he knew he loved you when nothing in this world could matter but the sound of your voice telling him you love him too.

word count: 3k+

pairing: old man!logan x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), praise kink, logan is obsessed, dirty talk via reader, he is so pretty when he blushes, manhandling, cumplay, cumeating, overstimulation, crying, he's needy in this one, angst, tortured soul of an old man, reverence, religious trauma + greek mythology hints.

He can feel the strings of fate pull tight around his broken heart. In a failed attempt to draw him back together. To piece together an organ that barely beat for him anymore. He might have felt it once, before it broke. Before it gnarled itself like the branches of a dying tree, one half twisting away from the other in a desperate attempt of survival.

He deemed it a useless part of his body until you came along. You with your smile that held enough cloying sweetness to choke him as he stood helpless. Silently begging for you to say his name. To bring him back to life.

Whatever horrors that plagued his mind—endless nightmares that promised nothing but anguish—suddenly came crashing to a halt at the sight of you. So pretty in your denim jeans and velvet top. An angel seated in the center of a bar that held more filth than you deserved to be near. Logan couldn’t fathom that luck struck him this hard.

Not when death had already claimed his soul; notched yet another tally in the endless wall of people that came before.

He felt the dirt pack under his nails as he clawed his way out of the grave he put himself in. Years spent alone—a man lost to the ravages of time—had turned him bitter. With rough edges and biting words that stung far more than he intended. How could he believe he deserved to live after he contributed so much to the endless pool of blood that tainted his soul? How was he allowed such softness after biting off bits of brutality his whole life?

Logan was pretty sure he survived on borrowed time that had already run out. He could feel death breathe down his neck as the days went on. A reminder that what little of his life remained would be spent suffering. And he found that accepting it was easier than battling against the will of God, or whoever toyed with his lifeline.

It was far easier to die than find a reason to live.

Until you said his name.

Softly. Sweetly. Reverence wrapped in a tight grasp of need.

You brought him back from the edge—took his hand and refused to take no for an answer. You and the safety of your touch; the promise in your kiss. You dragged him into a life he didn’t earn; one that almost tasted too sweet—too sour.

After near a decade of being buried beneath the dirt, he felt himself collapse above ground and suck in his first real gasp of fresh air. Alive, once more. Hell spit him out with a vow of love and who was he to argue against it.

His fingers dug into your plush thighs, tugging them open to see what lay between. He marveled at their softness, eyes wide and awestruck at the sight of you spread beneath him. You practically glowed in the dim light of the bedside table. Yellow, musty, yet angelic when it caressed your body with its heavenly touch.

He wondered if this was real life; your nails digging sharply into his shoulders gave him the answer.

"Logan," you sighed, voice high with need.

The strings pulled taught. A vice like hold that drew him to you.

Maybe that's what this unutterable feeling was. The gnawing pit at the bottom of his heart. A greed he'd never indulged before—too afraid of what it might ask for next. He wasn't a man who asked for much. Rather someone that found himself far too content with nothing. But tonight he found his lips forming the words of a false prayer that his mother taught him as a child.

Hail the angel in his bed. Hail every good fucking thing you brought into his life.

His teeth sunk into your thigh, body jolting at your responding moan. Fingers dug into his hair, tugging at the mussed locks with a high pitched whine. You were a needy little thing, but Logan found he desperately wanted to be needed.

He smiled laving his tongue over the tender spot, working his way up to where you dripped for him.

So slick. So perfect.

Saliva filled his mouth. "What do ya want baby?"

Your chest heaved; he could feel the heat of your body under his palms. "Your m-mouth Logan."

His eyes trailed along your brow covered in a sheen of sweat. The room was thick with the humid air of the outside world. But that didn't deter him from craving your skin near his. The pressure of your thighs around his head a welcome weight. If he sunk his teeth in where the curve of your leg met your hip he knew he could draw out that soft choking noise he longed to hear on days spent driving alone.

If he had his way he'd crawl into you to seek your serenity straight from the source. He'd never divulge about the ache that chewed him up on the inside, but Logan wondered if you knew. Could you tell how much he craved you? How much he couldn't live without you.

When your glittering eyes met his, the resolve he spent years building cracked like glass. You peered into him as if he was a stained glass window. A god you were more than happy to worship.

"You want me to lick this pretty pussy?" Fuck, he sounded drunk off your taste already.

His mouth hovered over your throbbing clit, your scent now filling his senses. Overwhelming him with what he wanted most. But he needed to hear it. The lilt of your begging; the soft echo of your need that washed over him like soothing river water.

He couldn't live without it.

"Yes," you sobbed, thigh twitching.

The string sliced his heart open, blood pooling onto the white bed sheets. Oh what a sweet death your love made. Oh...what a bittersweet way to go.

He'd die right now if you asked him to. Hand over his heart on a silver platter if you so wished it. Maybe that made him far too gone for his own good, but Logan couldn't remember a time in his life where he got this. Safety. The hope of love burning far too bright and far too hot for him to fly near it.

Yet there he was. Icarus happily soaring in your sun like glow.

"I got ya honey," he murmured. "Gonna take care of what's mine."

You nodded frantically—tears welling up in your eyes. "You take care of me Logan."

The breath in his chest stuttered, eyes dark as the words fell past your swollen lips. He wanted to explain why his cock twitched against his stomach. Why he now leaked into the sheet with heavy panted breaths. But every time he came up short with the words needed to form an answer.

"Yeah I do sweetheart," he breathed. "Don't I?"

"Uh-huh."

"Take care of what belongs to me."

There was no warning when his hands dragged you closer with a rough tug, mouth closing over your clit with a desperate suck. A cry wrenched from your mouth, sparks sharply traveling down your spine. He licked through your slick with a growl. Hands an unbreakable press against your thighs.

The sight of your body bowed, mouth open for small gasped breaths that never came, snapped something in his mind. He was an old man. Well past his years. But the taste of your pussy along his tongue brought back a ferocity he often tamped down in his younger age. He felt the feral want claw at his chest, and answered it with a broken snarl.

Swallowing down every drop you gave him, he plunged his tongue into your entrance, thrusting messily until a smear of your shiny slick began to coat his mouth. It covered his cheeks and clung to the hair of his beard. He'd clean it out later, taste you on his tongue until he was aching for another go. But for now he was preoccupied with the way you cried for him.

"Oh fuck!" Your thighs trembled over his shoulders, hips canting down to drag yourself along his tongue. "So good."

He shuddered, eyes rolling back at the sound of your praise. You caught it within seconds, lips pulling into a breathless smile that left him gasping for air. His teeth nipped at your thigh briefly as his hips ground into the mattress below.

"You like that baby?" you breathed, thumb smearing your own slick against his cheek.

Something hot washed over his body. A needy sick and twisted ache that he'd never indulged in before. He wanted to be a good man to you; longed to be needed. And fuck if you didn't give him everything.

You were his walking wet dream. His future handed off and wrapped in a neat little bow.

"L-Love your tongue Logan-" A high gasp tore from your throat when he dived back in. Slurping at your clit with a heady moan as you dragged him closer. "Taking care of me so well."

His hips canted down into the bed, fucking his cock along the warmth of his stomach, as you gushed into his mouth again. Eyes zeroed in on your face, pupils dilated as he growled into your flesh. You no longer could see the man you loved, but the feral side he tamped down during the day. The animal he longed to release in your presence.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum."

His arms looped around your thighs and with a sharp yank, he had his face buried deep enough to suffocate himself. You sobbed an incoherent version of his name. Nails clawed at his shoulders, but Logan could feel the pulse of your clit under his tongue.

He sucked it into his mouth with a grunt, rolling it along his tongue as you trembled with the oncoming shocks of an orgasm that threatened to destroy you.

Tears dripped down your cheeks and Logan felt the satisfying part of his heart begin to stitch itself back together. The strings were tight enough to numb his pain. To quell the flare of agony.

That used to be all he knew, all he counted on most days. When there was nothing left and he'd propped the shovel in the dirt—his grave open and waiting—he stumbled right into your arms. He found his reason for living.

Heat curled around his spine as you shook with the impending orgasm—the stimulation on your clit practically debilitating. He grunted into your soaked flesh, eyes narrowed as he chased the release that pulled his stomach taut. But this wasn't for him to indulge in; this wasn't his pleasure.

So with a throaty moan you felt reverberate along your body, he scraped his teeth along your clit and watched as your body went stiff.

"Logan!" you cried, fingers scrambling for purchase on any part of him you could reach.

You gushed into his awaiting mouth, praises of it's so good, you're so good falling upon his ears like the whimpered prayers of a devout worshiper thanking your god.

"Taste so fuckin' good," he mumbled, drunk on what you gave him.

He didn't care that you were jolting with each pass of his tongue along your pussy. He didn't care that you were shocked with overstimulation, small broken cries of his name muffled by the press of your thighs against his ears. He licked at you until he couldn't breathe. Buried his tongue into your twitching entrance and sucked out your cum with a happy hum.

"P-Please." You tugged at his hair, pulling him off you with a sob. "I-I can't anymore Logan."

"'M not fuckin' finished," he said, eyes glazed and face coated in your slick.

You made a mess of his face. The light catching along where you spilled into his mouth and along his throat. And still he wanted more. He'd spend hours between your thighs, burning your skin with his beard, if it meant he could divulge in your sweetness.

"It hurts-"

A grunt rumbled in his chest, his arms tugging you back even as your feet kicked along his back. "Just one more honey. Yeah?"

You shook your head. "B-But-"

"Thought you said it was good."

"It is."

"Then lemme be good for you." He wanted to tell you that the world went quiet between your thighs. That all his grief, all his pain, lessened when you sobbed his name.

He wanted to show you the string that looped his heart to yours—the only thing keeping him alive—and thank you for bringing him back from the dead. But words weren't his forte. Violence had become the only tenderness he knew and you didn't deserve the rough edges of an old man. You should have more.

But when you let him touch you like this—caress your skin and lick between your folds—he felt as if he was a man who finally was worthy of someone as precious as you. He could pretend he didn't bear the brunt of a fucked up soul.

The weight on his chest lifted when your tear filled gaze met his and you nodded. Small, barely there, but it was enough for him to seal his mouth back over you with a ragged moan. Your body shook as his tongue slid through the seam of your pussy. The tip nudging against your clit—careful to draw the pleasure from your body slowly.

He didn't want to give you pain. His heart wouldn't survive that. But he was a broken man; someone who begged for more even as his teeth sunk into what was already given.

You were his meal. His sacrament in the midnight hours until dawn broke across the darkened sky. You were the other half of his soul.

How could he not indulge in your sweetened tang until his tongue went stiff?

"I love you," you sighed, eyes rolled back when he sucked at your pussy, a wet low moan echoing in the air. "My p-perfect husband."

The cold press of his wedding band against your thigh drove him over the edge. You weren't officially married. Didn't have the backyard wedding with a preacher to match. But Logan had placed a ring on your finger near a year ago, sliding one over his own with the vow of forever cemented in his words.

Even if that didn't mean much in the eyes of a god who abandoned him near a century ago.

"Oh-"

Your head tipped back, mouth dropping open as his fingers dipped into your wet heat. Thrusting lazily until he found the spongey patch along your walls—driving the pad of his middle finger into it with a needy moan.

He knew it wouldn't take long for you to fly off the edge of a second release. That didn't make watching you climb to that peak any less satisfying. The sight appeased his soul. It gave him a chance to breathe; let him know that after so much bad—after so much pain—he could do something good. He could bring you to the edge of pleasure and drag you over again and again.

He could finally be the man you believed he was.

Not the animal they created.

"C'mon," he muttered. Eyes fixed on the shape of your breasts as your body curved off the bed. Hips dragging along his face with a stunted cry.

A wail bounced off the walls, piercing his eardrums with the symphony of your cries. His fingers rapidly pumped into you with a squelch that had heat burning his cheeks—lips pulling your throbbing clit into his mouth as you broke. The climax slammed into you; battering your already swollen pussy.

Logan could feel his cock swell at the sight.

"Fuckin' perfect," he grunted, teeth bared as he clambered to his knees and wrapped his fist soaked in your slick around his leaking cock. "'M gonna cum sweetheart."

Your eyes fluttered open, fingers digging into his thigh. "Please. Wanna see it baby. Look so pretty when you cum Logan."

His chest tightened, body shaking while you watched in rapture as he fucked his fist rapidly. He wouldn't fucking last, could feel the burning consume his body, but something held him back. The string around his heart yanked him away from the edge, tearing a cry from his throat when his frustration peaked.

You could see it—the glimmer of need in his dark eyes. This wasn't the first time he longed for your words. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

So you spread your legs and sat up slowly—arms wrapping around his shoulders to bring his lips down to yours. A soft moan was muffled by your mouth; the peak of his release within reach. He could practically feel the tips of his fingers graze it.

"Cover my pussy baby," you mumbled into his mouth. "Be good for me and mark what's yours."

The growl came from the very bottom of his chest when he finally came. Your name was a bitten out snarl pressed to your mouth in an open mouth kiss as he spurted over his knuckles. He pumped his cock to milk every drop; eyes fixed on the way it covered the swollen lips of your pussy. Dripping down to your entrance that fluttered at the sight of his sweaty and crimson tinged face.

"I fuckin' love ya honey," he murmured, hand cupping your chin to drag your lips back to his. "Best thing that's happened in my life is you."

You smiled, thumbs pressing to his cheeks. "Love you too Logan."

Clutching you close, he felt the string go loose. The breath finally rushing back into his lungs at the sight of your eyes glowing with the kind of light that brought him back to the first day The night he met you in that shitty bar—alcohol the only thing on his mind until he saw you.

The night you spoke his name over his covered grave and dragged him back to life with a smile.

[skunkes]

I forgot to ever write dis down somewhere so im doing it here

So in college i did a quite a bit of Me and Al work for art classes, + even if not, if people saw my Socials they'd see all my Me and Al content. (Dis was a few years ago already.)

Anyway one day I was able to have a discussion with one of my professors (once Gender was also thrown into the mix with one of my pieces) and he asked me if Al was like. An alter ego? Or like, Guy I'd Like to Be? Transition goals? And at the time I was like hmm no he's just one of many ideas of an ideal guy in my head...we aren't really anything alike. He's the sun to my moon, red to my blue etc.

What's been absolutely insane to find out in like, the past year is that I'm more like him than I originally thought...! Especially in ... specific contexts... im very much...The Al... i guess we can both share the sun.

[duhnova]

Cry-Baby | Choi Seungcheol

synopsis. decked out in leather and riding a harley davidson like he’s got business with the devil, choi seungcheol was the talk of your small town. everyone looked down on him and when you come home for the first time since starting uni you find it hard to believe that the pouty lipped kid you tossed off the merry-go-round when you were six was some slick haired delinquent. 

pairing. biker!choi seungcheol x fem!reader 

word count: 4.9k

genre. fluff, angst, opposites attract, drama?, kind of college au

warning(s): mentions of parent death, mentions of parent illness, alcohol, let me know if i forgot anything!

this is apart of a 90's collab! you should check out everyone elses fics! - there might be a smutty & more angsty part 2 to this if there’s enough interest! also huge shoutout to @onlyhuis and @onlymingyus for proofreading for me, ily guys <3

When you left for university three years ago you never wanted to return home, the small town always made you feel claustrophobic. But now you’re sitting on a train, about an hour away from your childhood, the sony walkman you got as a graduation present from high school sat in your lap as you listened to the same nirvana cassette on repeat. 

The nerves of being home began to get to you as the familiar views of the old trailer park that sat outside your town came into view. An old pickup truck that adorns the same white and blue paint of your best friend's truck drives down the road that travels along the train tracks and it makes you wonder if it’s him coming to meet you at the station.  

“We’ll be arriving at the station within the next five minutes.” The worker smiled at you as she continued down the aisle of seats to tell the other patrons of the cart that the train will be stopping for a couple minutes at your stop before embarking to the next station. 

You put your walkman in your pocket so that you aren’t scrambling to gather your things when the train stops. Just as you got your backpack situated the train jolted a little as its breaks screech to a stop. 

“Ladies and gentlemen we have reached our next stop.” The worker's voice is drowned out by your music as you stand up and grab your suitcase before hopping out the door with the worker's help in lifting your bag down. 

“Thank you!” You call out and wave as the door closes and the train takes off again, no one else got on or off. 

“Y/N!” You hear a familiar voice call from behind you, the roar of a diesel engine brings a certain comfort to you that you haven’t felt since you left. 

“Gyu!” You call out with a smile on your face, the change in his appearance being more shocking in person than you thought it would be, having only seen him in pictures he sent from the crappy disposable cameras he and his friends like to use. All the work he’s been doing on his family's ranch has paid off as his muscles glisten with dirt and sweat. 

“I’ve missed you cherry pop.” He hugs you tightly as you laugh at the nickname he gave you years ago because you always had cherry lollipops on you. 

“I’ve.. missed you too.” You choke between laughs and the way he was squeezing you a little too tightly. 

“Sorry,” He laughs as he lets you go to grab your suitcase instead. “Are you hungry? It was a long travel day for you.” 

“I could eat.” You smile as you take your headphones off to let them rest around your neck as you follow your best friend to his truck that was still running and emitting a gross smell of diesel. 

“Great, let’s go to pops diner.” He lifts your suitcase over the side of the truck bed like it was nothing before he opens the door for you to get in. The leather of his seats were warm from his heater that left the cabin toasty unlike the train car you had been sitting in almost all day. 

“How are you?” You ask about the owner of the diner who was well into his 70’s at this point, his restaurant having been open for almost five decades at this point.

“He’s doing good, got his hip replaced last summer,” Mingyu shifts the car into drive after he reversed out of the spot he parked at. “Still kickin, Cheols mom still works there too.” The mention of your old childhood playmate makes you smile bittersweetly. The last time you two had talked was before you left for college and he seemed angry about everything in life and he took it out on you leaving a sour taste in your mouth and the lack of communication between the two of you over the past few years.  

“That’s nice, how is she doing? I remember last you told me she was in the hospital for something.” Mingyu sighs a little from beside you.

“Yeah she was, took me forever to get anything out of Cheol about it but she’s doing good now. Or so I’ve been told.” Seungcheol had always been hard headed and he’d rather talk about other people's problems than his own so it didn’t surprise you that Mingyu had to dig for some type of answer from him. 

“Is she working today? I’d love to see her…” Your voice trailed off as you thought about the lady’s son, who you desperately wanted to see as well but how you left things made you hesitant.

“Not today, she’s off for the weekend.” You nod, mumbling that it’s nice that she takes the weekend for herself. 

“I know you and Cheol had some blowout when you left but I’m going to see him later after I drop you off, if you wanna come with you’re more than welcome too.”

“What’re you two doing?” Mingyu was surprised you didn’t immediately shoot down his offer, he thought it would take more convincing.

“We’re going to the river for a bonfire with Jeonghan and Wonwoo.”

“They’re home too?” They had both left for college around the same time you had.

“Yeah, they come home every break they can.. Unlike someone I know.” He laughs lightheartedly. You huff quietly, unsure of how to respond. How do you respond anyways? You never wanted to come back, memories weighed heavy on your heart and the only thing keeping you to your hometown was the friends that resided in it.

“Hey,” Mingyu's voice softens. “I get it, you got out when you saw the chance and I’m proud of you.” 

“Thank you.” Your voice was just as soft as you watched the familiar scenery zip by. A nice silence fell between the two of you as he focused on driving, the train station sitting a couple miles out from the town you used to live in. 

“The bank sold the house by the way.” Mingyu broke the silence, a nervous sweat settled on his forehead as he broke the news to you. 

“About time.” You sigh, another weight you didn’t realize you were holding lifted off your shoulders. “Less for me to deal with now.” 

“You’re not upset?” Mingyu looks at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“No,” You sit up straighter and begin picking at the hem of your jacket. “My father was a drunk with thousands of dollars of debt he owed the bank so I’m not even surprised they sold it to make back what they lost and then some I’m sure.” 

“At least an actual family bought it instead of some corporation.” Mingyu tried to lighten the mood. “They just moved in and they have a newborn and a cute dog that I think you’d like.” 

“What kind of dog is it?” You side eye Mingyu, appreciative of the fact he moved on from the sensitive topic so quickly. 

“A corgi, they said it’s a black tricolor… Whatever that means.”

“It’s the fur color, it’s mainly black with a little bit of brown and white?”

“Yes! See this is why you went to college, you’re smart as hell.” You shake your head with a smile on your face. 

“You’re smart too, Gyu, and not going to college doesn’t affect that.” He shrugs as he slows his speed down after approaching the edge of town. 

“If you say so cherry pop.” Just as he pulled up to the first stoplight the roar of a loud engine could be heard from a distance. 

“I bet that’s Cheol.” You look at Mingyu confused before your question gets lost once you see the helmet less Seungcheol sped by on a motorcycle you had never seen before, his once dark hair was bleached blonde.

“That’s Cheol?” You asked as you watched him disappear down the opposite street you and Mingyu turned down. 

“Yeah, he changed quite a bit since you left.” That was an understatement as Seungcheol looked as big as Mingyu, maybe bigger if you dared to think.

“I can see that, can’t believe he bleached his hair.” 

“He did that pretty recently actually, said he needed a change and decided the worst that could happen is his hair would fall out.” 

“He’d look good with a buzz cut.” Mingyu laughs at the thought causing you to laugh too. 

“You should tell him that tonight when we hang out, I guarantee he’ll either blow a gasket or take you seriously and actually cut his hair off.” 

“He would drown me in the river first before he’d listen to me.” 

“I don’t know cherry pop, you were very influential to him for a long time. Remember how he did your bidding all throughout elementary school?” 

“Yeah cause I tossed him off the merry-go-round at recess and he decided he was scared of me until junior high.” 

“I think we were all scared of you after that,” Mingyu puts the car in park after pulling up to the diner. “The older kids wouldn’t mess with me either because you scared them too.” The fact Mingyu is younger than you by two years makes you question reality as he’s much bigger then you now and has been since junior high. 

“Still wild to think about.” You laugh as Mingyu hops out the truck to run over and open the door for you, he’s never allowed you to open your own door since he started driving. 

“Oh, I guess Cheol’s mom is working today.” Mingyu closes the door behind you and puts the key in the handle to lock it as he stares at the familiar woman through the window that was taking someone’s order. “Someone must’ve called out of work today.” 

The two of you walk to the front door together, making small talk about anything and everything. Seungcheol’s mother greeted the two of you with a smile and handed you two menus once you sat down. 

“It’s good to see you sweetheart.” She smiles widely at you, she was always like a second mother to you growing up especially after you mothers untimely passing. 

“It’s good to see you too, you look great.” You smile warmly, despite any animosity you might feel for her son right now you will never be able to hate this woman. 

“I’ll start you two off with some water?” You both nod, prompting her to walk away. 

“So how’s the ranch?” You scan the menu, already knowing what you want but wanting to check to see if anything new was added. 

“It’s good, Cheol doesn’t work there anymore.” Mingyu doesn’t look up from his menu to see your surprised expression. “Mr. Johnson offered him a job as a mechanic after seeing the work he would do on the farm equipment.” 

“Mechanics suit him.” You smile at his mother when she comes back with your waters. 

“Do you two know what you want?” You both nod, letting Mingyu order first despite the look he gave you after you shrug and take a big gulp of your water. “Are you getting your usual sweetheart?” She turns to you.

“How do you remember what I used to order?” Your eyes widen.

“You’d order the same thing almost every time you’d come here since you were a kid and I’ve been working here longer than you’ve been alive so I have it practically engraved into my memory.” She laughs quietly as she takes your menus. “You and my son are the same in your consistency in ordering the same thing.” 

“Oh.” You could feel your face heating up at the thought. You’re happy she didn’t bother to push a conversation as she went to help more people that came in. 

“You and Cheol are as opposite as opposite can be.” 

“You don’t say.” You roll your eyes playfully. 

The banter between you and Mingyu continued on, even after your food came you both found something to poke — and trust me there was a lot to poke at that has happened over the past three years that couldn’t be conveyed over letters and the occasional call here and there. 

“We should head out now, get you to the ranch so you can clean up and rest before tonight.” Mingyu paid for your guy's food like the gentleman he is and held the door open for you as you walked out into the warm summer air. 

“Am I obligated to go swimming tonight?” Mingyu shakes his head. 

“You’re not but we’ll all be swimming so,” He hops into the truck after opening the door for you. “Just to be safe you might wanna wear your swimsuit.” 

“Got it.” You nod your head before watching out the window again, committing your old hometown to memory again. The drive to the ranch was peaceful and long, sitting a few miles out of town on the opposite side of where the diner was. 

Once you got to Mingyu's house and greeted his family and caught up, you went to the spare room upstairs to unload your bags and lay on the bed to unwind. A quick nap was sure to help the oncoming headache you got so after changing your clothes to be a little more comfortable you crawl under the freshly cleaned blanket and almost instantly knock out. 

A couple hours pass by before Mingyu is knocking on the door to wake you up, telling you the guys are heading to the river now and that you two need to get going soon.

Groaning quietly as you sit up in bed and stretch, it felt nice to not have to worry about anything as this is the first summer you decided to not take summer classes as you'd be graduating early after this upcoming fall semester. Getting up and taking your walkman out of your bag again you took out the nirvana cassette and put in green day instead, the music more uplifting and giving you an ounce of energy to put your swimsuit on and a pair of shorts and jacket to cover yourself. 

“How was your nap dear?” Mingyu's mother greeted you as you walked down the stairs, your friend standing by the door waiting (im)patiently for you. 

“Amazing, sitting all day in those train seats takes a toll on your back.” You take your walkman headphones off and half hazardously shove them into your jacket pocket. 

“Tell me about it, I can’t sit for too long now without going stiff.” She smiles warmly as she wishes you two well as you b-line to the door after Mingyu told you to hurry up. 

 “Couldn’t even give me time to say bye.” You grumble as you shuffle up to the truck where Mingyu was holding the door for you. 

“Sorry cherry pop, the guys are waiting for us and we still gotta get drinks.” 

“Why are we getting the drinks?” You buckle up and put your headphones back on, both of your tastes in music are dramatically different as he puts in a country cassette into the radio. 

“You’re home, they want you to get what you want instead of drinking what they like.” 

“They still drink that shitty dollar beer right?” Mingyu nods. “Then we drink the same thing, not much has changed as I still couldn’t afford the expensive stuff being at college.” 

“Great, that makes this run cheap.” The ride to the corner store was quick, the street lights lining the road leading from the ranch to town making the trees look ominous. 

Once you guys had secured the alcohol you made your way to the river. The long body of water stretched for miles outside of town in both directions, and the one spot you guys have always met up at since junior high was hidden away. You had thick bushes to climb through and poison ivy to look out for as it wasn’t a regular site on the river to be at. 

“Mingyu! Y/N!” Jeonghan called happily when he saw the two of you emerge from the bushes. The bonfire was already large and roaring while Cheol and Wonwoo were already in the water swimming. 

“Hannie!” You smile and hug him happily, he was always the least affectionate person so when he offered you a hug you always took it. 

“How have you been? It’s been years!” He pulls away from the hug to greet Mingyu while sitting down in his chair and pats the one next to him that looked to have been occupied by Seungcheol at one point based on the jacket hanging on it. 

“I’ve been good, college has been tough but I'm graduating a semester early.” You smile at Mingyu who hands you a beer before he sets the box down and makes quick work to strip down to his swim trunks so he can join the other two in the water. “How have you been?” 

“I’ve been great, graduating a semester later than I should've, but I took a light load last semester because I was back and forth to be here for Cheol while his mom was in the hospital.” you nod your head while taking a drink of your beer. You never realized that his mom being in the hospital was that bad. 

“Mingyu didn’t tell me much about her being in the hospital so I didn’t realize it was that bad.” You look out at the three guys who are currently climbing the rock in the middle of the river so they can jump into the water.

“He wanted to write to you, ever since you left it’s all he had been beside himself about but when his mother got sick he wanted to write to you even more.” Jeonghans voice was soft, nervous that the said male would hear your two's conversation and start hounding him for spilling the secret. 

“I wanted to write him too, but-“

“But you couldn’t, I’m not as hard headed as Seungcheol so I get why but I don’t get why you couldn’t have let him down sooner.” You sigh, this was a conversation you knew you’d have eventually as Jeonghan was Seungcheols best friend outside of you and he was the only one that knew about you two. 

“I wanted to, believe me it was never my plan to break things off the day I was leaving but I was selfish and didn’t want to let him go yet.”

“You are selfish,” You laugh quietly, thanking him. “But he’s selfish too, this town holds too many bad memories for you and he wanted to tie you to it when you finally had the chance to escape it.”

“You know, I asked him to come with me.” You took another sip of your beer, your eyes back on the blonde who seemed to feel you staring as he tilted his head back and gave you a bitter smirk. “When I first got the acceptance letter and I was on the fence about going, he wanted me to go but he also wanted me to stay and so I told him to come with me so I didn’t have to choose.”

“He never told me that.” Jeonghan opens up another beer and gingerly takes a sip of it. 

“I’m not surprised, I think he thought it was a joke.” You finally tear your eyes off of Seungcheol to look at Jeonghan. “After that I didn’t tell him I committed and just continued to relish our time together.”

“Y’know, he wanted you to go because this was your dream but he wanted to be a part of that dream and you keeping that from him and then cutting ties with him when you left is what broke him.” 

“I didn’t mean to.” You mumbled and looked down at your half empty beer can. “He was the one that told me that if I wasn’t willing to make things work then he didn’t want to hear from me.”

“Well he’s dumb,” Jeonghan takes another sip. “But so are you.”

“I know.” You close your eyes and sigh, letting your head lull back on the chair. 

“Are you going to talk to him while you’re home? It is the first time you’ve been home since leaving after all.” 

“This isn’t my home anymore.” You don’t bother to open your eyes as you take in the warm night air. This hasn’t been your home since you left and it hasn’t felt like home for far longer, the only thing (or person) that made you feel remotely anchored here was Seungcheol. 

“It was your home at one point, and I'd argue it still is because Seungcheol and the rest of us are here.” 

“Corny loser.” You mumble, a small smile cracking at your lips before you sit up straight. “I’ll talk to him, I promise. I had been prepping myself all week to mend things between us while I was here.” 

“Good.” Jeonghan smiles and downs the rest of his beer. “Now hurry up and finish drinking so we can go join them in the water before it gets colder.” 

“You’re going to die in that water, it’s too cold for you already.” You laugh before downing the rest of your beer so you can strip down to your swimsuit, making sure not to toss your walkman around too much. 

“I’ll manage.” He shrugs after taking his clothes off too before walking cautiously up to the edge of the water. He barely touches it with his big toe and he curses. 

“Told you,” You stand beside him and watch his reaction. “You just gotta go in as quick as you can.” You show him how it’s done as you take a deep breath in and hold it as you quickly walk into the water before you’re deep enough to dive under. 

“Show off.” He huffs before he follows in your footsteps, cursing the whole way up to his shoulders. 

“You did it han,” Wonwoo pats him on the shoulder. “You’re shivering already.” 

“It’s fucking cold and you’re all insane.” He huffs and starts to swim around a little, letting the cold water soothe his warm skin. 

“I think it feels good.” You had popped back up next to Mingyu who was standing with Seungcheol who was watching Jeonghan worried. 

“It does feel good.” Mingyu lets the water support his body as he starts to swim backwards, no longer being a wall between you and the ire of your freshman year of college. 

“It’s good to see you Y/N.” Wonwoo gives you a small smile before he also swims away, leaving you and Seungcheol alone and seeing the look on Jeonghan's face in the distance makes you believe that this was planned. He clears his throat when he seems to realize you two are alone.

“Um,” Is all he manages to say before you’re taking a deep breath and turning to look at him. 

“Hi Seungcheol.” He flinches at the use of his full name.

“Ouch, hi litt-“ He catches himself using the old nickname he had for you. “Hi Y/N.”

“God I hate this.” You can’t be bothered to hide the fact that the whole situation makes you sad and angry already, you missed him and he was right there in front of you and you were both acting like you wanted nothing to do with each other, which might’ve been true right after you had left but as time went on it faded into longing and anger at oneself.

“You hate this? How do you think I feel?” He crosses his arms and looks down at you. 

“Cheol I-“

“I don’t want to hear excuses.”

“Ok asshole I was going to apologize but not anymore.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him so you could swim away, the conversation you had with Jeonghan felt like complete bullshit now. 

“Wait,” he grabbed your arm to spin you back around, the water splashing violently at the fast movement. “I’m sorry, for everything.” It was rare that he’d ever apologize and right now it felt out of place as he had no reason to apologize at the moment. 

“I practiced how this conversation would go for weeks and this was not one of the ways I accounted for. You weren’t supposed to apologize first.” You look up at Seungcheol who was just staring at you silently now, his hand still holding tightly on your arm. “Seungcheol I-“

“Stop calling me that.”

“Stop interrupting,” You huff, the smallest smile forming on his face “I’m sorry for how I left things and for everything leading up to when I left.” 

“Y’know, I spent most of the first year you were gone blaming you, and then I started blaming myself until my mother made me realize that neither of us were to blame and then I spent the remainder of the time just numb.”

“If you stopped blaming me, how come you didn’t write to me?”

“You never wrote to me.” He sounded hurt and you were hurt too but you hated the pain in his voice and it caused you to move closer to him, hoping you could erase even just a hint of it.

“I’m sorry, there was never a time where I didn’t think about writing to you but your words kept playing in my head about how you never wanted to hear from me if I left our relationship behind.”

“It wasn’t much of a relationship then was it, we were just friends exploring each other,” That’s what you liked to tell eachother when you were in denial about your feelings. “I wrote letters, most of them are stamped and sitting in my desk drawer because I couldn’t bring myself to send them.”

“Yet you bought stamps for them?” You raise an eyebrow curiously. 

“Yes,” He huffs, trying to hide the ounce of embarrassment he’s feeling. “I’d get these bouts of feelings where I’d want to send them and I’d get all the way to the post office with a stamp on the envelope and the second I’d park I’d back out and go back home only to hide it away with the others.” 

“Cheol…” 

“I know it’s probably stupid and I’ll just burn them all now since you’re home and-“

“I’m not staying,” You cut him off for some reason. “I mean I’m staying for the summer but I’m going back home to finish my last semester of college so I can get a job at a vet clinic there.” 

“That’s ok, this time I promise I will write.”

“You should come with me.” You blurt out like you did all those years ago.

“I can’t leave my mother, she won’t leave this town and with her health fluctuating I just can’t.” He gave you an actual answer this time unlike he did when you were younger. 

“I get it, she needs you.. But one day you have to leave this place, don’t you think?” Your hand gently touches his arm as you drift even closer to him. 

“I never thought of leaving until you left.” He mumbled as his hands moved to ghost over your sides that were under the water. 

“One day?” You sounded hopeful. “Even if we’re old and married to other people do you think you’d still leave?” 

“I..” His voice trailed off as your breath got closer to his face. “I’d never marry… unless it was you.” He whispered before he finally kissed you, the weight of what he said disappearing as you both got lost in the taste of each other. After what felt like an eternity you finally pulled away out of breath, a quiet whistle could be heard from behind Seungcheol somewhere and you assumed it had to be Jeonghan since Mingyu would’ve quite literally jumped the two of you. 

“Cheol- '' He cuts you off.

“Let's enjoy the night, yeah?” He didn’t want to talk about what he just said, or what the future would hold anymore. It’ll take time, you both realized, for things to go back to normal but for now you were content with how things were because this time he knew what to expect when summer ends, he just hoped that you’d change your mind about long distance relationships. And you hoped he’d change his mind about rotting away in this small town.

feedback + reblogs greatly appreciated! let me know what you guys thought!

[gazorninplat]

As much as I love Disco Elysium, I think I was not prepared for Sacred and Terrible Air. Of course, I was expecting to know more about the world of Elysium as a whole, and Robert Kurvitz is a very good writer, but the thesis of the novel (and how it makes its points) flash-banged me.

Disco Elysium this is not, and it wasn’t supposed to be, but I think I can understand better now what the team at ZA/UM was getting at with this specific setting, and these specific narrative angles. Kinda messy, because it’s been a week since I finished it, but here are some things I’d like to highlight: 

1. The pedophilia. I surely wasn’t expecting this to be such a central theme of the novel, but a lot of its main points revolve around it. The most interesting use of this, as a narrative device, is how the girlfriend of Jesper basically accuses him of being a pedophile because he cannot relate to the adults around him. He’s still obsessed with a girl he met when he was 13 years old, and fetishizes a scrunchie he stole from her bag two decades ago. Yeah, I guess Jesper, well into his thirties, is still in love with a 13 year old girl. His girlfriend is almost half his age, and they started dating when she was 15 years old and a lingerie model (!). Zigi mentions how pedophilia was a bougie disease, and well… That idea went right into my thought cabinet (I call it “Bougie Babies for Sale).

Still processing it.

Now, let’s go back to the rest of the main characters. With all this in mind, a pedophilic overtone covers their interest in these four missing girls, but Jasper is the only one who acts on it, sort of. Khan remains in a sort of arrested development (he still uses a shirt he had when he was 13), foregoing normal adult relationships, and Tereesz joins the police as an investigator with the idea of still finding them some day (essentially letting these eternally prepubescent girls define his entire existence), leading him to a very dark path. I wonder if the brutality they afford to the “actual” pedophiles in the story (Vidkun Hird and the Linoleum Salesman) comes from the realization that they are not that different?

2. Obviously, though, this fetishization of the Lund sisters is also a fetishization of the past. The novel states it in the first few pages; they disappeared twenty years ago, in a time that most conservative people remember as the “good old days”. Basically their version of the American Fifties. Now, being obsessed with the past is a running theme in both SaTA and DE, but the angle here is different.

I already said it: the past is not remembered, is fetishized with an almost sexual yearning by a lot of the male characters of the book. They want to be consumed by it (and lucky them! It will) and do nothing more than serve it. It reminds me of a poem by Yamil Nardil Sadek, which, translated to the best of my ability, goes like: 

She awaits me

sitting on the bed,

wearing leather,

and armed to the teeth,

the Memory.

Yeah, that sums up Sacred and Terrible Air pretty well. Everyone is being consumed by the past, bite by bite, and enjoying it. Vidkun Hird, by the mythologized version of his tribe’s history; Sarjan Ambartsumjan, by a miniature ship model that requires constant, devoted thought or else it will disappear, the three main characters by the memory of that summer with the Lund girls. Even the Linoleum Salesman is being haunted and consumed, of sorts, by his sickness and dementia that only sometimes let him take a peek of the past. Beyond that, there are very few characters that do not spend time being followed by relentless ghosts. Literally, in the case of Zigi. Which brings me to…

3. The Pale. It was a really cool concept in Disco Elysium, and it’s an existential nightmare in Sacred and Terrible Air. It always was, really. But here it lets you take a look into it in a way that’s applicable in real life. The Pale is a metaphor for many things, but actually for a single one: A world where our current Capitalist reality facilitates both apathy and yearning for better days, often idealized in our collective pasts.

My favorite scene, one that was incredibly puzzling but so obvious in retrospect, is a beautiful speech by the ghost (?) of Ignus Nilsen to Zigi. I will just paste it here:

“I said terrible things, yes! I stood on a white horse, in a blizzard, and gave speeches. In the mountains, on the construction site… I swung my sword, with silver sunbeams on the hilt. And all around me fluttered white flags, crests of crowned horns made with silver thread, a pentagon between the prongs of the horns, the branches raised to heaven. Everyone who came here with me became happy, Zigi! Communism is powerful! Believe in Communism, it’s a burst of enthusiasm! I promise! It’s beautiful when you believe in a person, but without it…!”

“Without it, there is nothing.”

“Nothing. It was a blizzard, but it was bright, it was morning. Communism is white, it sparkles! Communism is the morning, it is a jubilation!” 

The Pale begins to recede dangerously around the entroponaut.

The fucking Pale recedes with talk of Communism! At first it might appear a little heavy handed (yeah, Communism, by itself, could save the world). But then I got into how Communism could be a solution to the antipathy and chronic nostalgia that sustain Capitalism, and then it hit me. Nilsen, a literal ghost from the past, is talking about a future that could have been. That he wanted to accomplish. That people, probably, can still achieve. The Pale is not eternal, it can be pushed back. Because the Pale seems to subsist on the past, it abhors any talk of the future. A better future. That’s how we solve things, and for a central thesis, is not bad at all.

With that being said, and because I’m just rambling here while pretending I’m working, there are also some things that I just didn’t understand, but maybe it was because of the translation. The original novel is written in a very poetic style, and some of that is still here, but I still need to untangle…

1. The Man. It is said that the day the Lund girls disappeared, they were joined by a mysterious Man that nobody seemed to remember correctly. A character even suspects that she was remembering wrong. Now, the Pale erases people and memories retroactively, so maybe it had something to do with it, but… Who was that? Is there any theory about that Man, or I just missed something? Some scenes and narrations were tough to parse for me (my primary language is not English).

2. Was Malin Lund pregnant? That flash with the fetus was sudden and weird.

3. What was the significance of the three meat piroshkis? They mention that it was unusual that the girls bought them (and if you do the math, you can realize early on that they were not planning to get back home. That purchase didn’t leave them enough money for the bus fare back), but that’s it. Were they for the Man? Also, the narration mentions that Lund girls’ picnic basket contained “the kind of things girls like to eat”, so maybe they were planning to see the boys and bring them the kind of things boys eat? I’m overthinking that? The chapter actually titled “Three Meat Piroshkis” just left me even more confused.

4. I don’t understand how Khan’s pen works at all. The one he brought to the school reunion. That was the part I re-read the most. Anyway, even with that, I loved Sacred and Terrible Air. Definitely one of the most enthralling reads I had, with or without the background of Disco Elysium. I’d still like an official translation that could potentially solve the issues I had, but for now, a Top 10 Book for me.

Go for it now.

[yandere-sins]

Okay so I feel a bit silly about this, but I just have to ask at some point. To keep it short, I wonder if Dr Ratio has already had his first time and if he even has sex often. I mean he is a grown adult at all. Don't see me as a horny Dr Ratio simp, I'm just interested and little things like that always make me like a character even more. I would be happy if you would answer this question :)♡

Why feel silly? We love all kinds of sexual status here, especially when it's someone as delicious as Ratio! Also, I appoint you simp from now on, because we should be simping for him (but don't be like me and have him in your team just for aesthetics bc my Ratio makes no damage at all! :D And that's okay... :'D)

As wonderful as our Doc is, this is a very open-to-interpretation question. You can honestly go both ways with him, and we'll never know because... he probably wouldn't even tell or show any signs to his darling how much experience he has once he gets with them ;)

Maybe he is a virgin and a very stoic and pathetic one at that. In his pursuit of making knowledge more accessible to every "idiot", there isn't much time for personal needs. I totally see him pass out from sleep deprivation despite being horny and then suppress his morning wood with a cold shower, even though he's really not happy about it. No one knows why he's so upset, but they all avoid him on mornings like that. There's no way he never put a hand on himself in all these years, but he won't know the blessing that comes when someone else does it, until he meets his darling.

It's an instant game over for him, Veritas unable to form a complete sentence when he first meets you, his cock springing up, precum staining his clothes. It threatens to burst out of his pants, hard and agitated and in desperate need to be treated to its first experience of intercourse. He tries to play it cool with a faint blush on his cheeks, tries his usual spiel of pretending he's better than you after catching his composure immediately, always gauging your reactions and wanting to see them to fuel his desire. All while completely hiding the fact that he wants to drop to his knees and hump your feet.

That night, jerking off is more like ripping off as he just can't stop the thoughts of you invading his mind and making him hard again and again. His whole bed is sullied, the tissue box empty, the Doctor is panting and blushing and immediately reminded of how plump and soft your lips were. Or your ass as you walked away from him. The sparkle in your eyes and the few exposed spots of skin in your outfit. And then his thoughts are going wild with you bent over on his bed, exposing yourself to him, your giggles and moans replaying in his ears, although he made all of them up. Honestly, he's a bit ashamed afterward for losing his composure quite like that.

It doesn't make him any less pathetic when he finally gets his hands on you. You might be fighting and hating him, but he tied you up exactly the way he needs so he can fuck your thighs or pry your pretty lips open to stuff your mouth with his thick cock. And you never disappoint him in that regard. You'll still be as amazing, making him cum almost instantly the first few times, after being with him for years. Ratio will still yearn for the warmth of your body around his dick decades down the line, and he'll greet you with the same enthusiasm (just more stamina and better technique) every time he comes home to you. You two really grow together; isn't that sweet? ;)

OR

Man's still stoic and pathetic, but not with all those partners he had over the years, oh no. It's really bothersome to him to actually let one of those groupies get a piece of his cake, and he doesn't do it because his mind wants to. But it's just normal to fulfill a need he has, right? Veritas doesn't bed some random person (who found him super hot and practically ogled him all evening) for pleasure or enjoyment. Even less for payment, though some people try to buy his time and affection.

In short, he's a miserable lover.

We should feel bad for the people thinking he's going to blow their minds. It's not like he hurts them or anything, but he does his thing and leaves, telling anyone who's confused and dissatisfied that he didn't enjoy it much, either. He got to finish; that's all that matters to him. He's really awful to these poor souls; we can't deny it.

But then he met you, and everything changed. You are constantly on his mind, the underside of his table stained with remnants of cum as he savagely had to jerk himself up to free his thoughts again. But it doesn't really help, and he imagines doing things with you on his table, books, honestly, everywhere. Ratio has to flee any function if someone there happens to have the same perfume as you because he cannot control himself once reminded of you. And in the bitterness of moaning your name in an empty room, his cock mangled and still hard despite previous jerk-off sessions, he decided he has to have you, just so he can get a remnant of himself back. 

He is reading up on how to be a better lover as he fingers you simultaneously, observing your reactions and even going down on you... for research, of course. No one knew he'd get drunk on bringing you pleasure. On learning that the reason you were feeling so damn good was his work. Sure, it boosts his ego, but you have no idea what it does to him to see your eyes dazed, your expression twisting. He teases you, but it gets him off quicker than anything else when you admit how good you feel. He'll be grinning from ear to ear the following day, remembering what you said, only to pretend he wasn't reveling in the memories when you catch him. He loves teasing you, kissing every part of your body while you squirm, knowing it turns him even more on than it does you. It's a good thing you need so much convincing, so he can satisfy his greed for you plenty before the real deal begins.

Suddenly, sex is so much more interesting when he does it with you, no matter how much you complain in the beginning—your moans say otherwise. You may hate him, but gods, does he love the look on your face when you're overstimulated, and Ratio is only getting started, making you arch your back as he plunges into you, your legs quivering around his head. Drawing out the act and letting you 'suffer' is so much more delicious and enjoyable than anything he had with another person before. He doesn't even wonder if it would have changed anything for his feelings had he done his research with the partners he fucked before. Only you can make his heart race, get him drunk on your juices, and look like an angel in his sheets covered in his cum. It's only you, it's only ever been you, and he'll never let that go.

Because no matter how much you simp for him, he'll always simp more for you ;)

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

On the heels of coop with body hair 'nd all that, how would coop feel about his lover having a happy trail/body hair/clean shaved? Obvi it's different for everyone irl with preferences, just wanted your thoughts!! 💗

Anon, apparently you, me, and @love-affair-with-fandoms are forming some sort of dark triad with our brains, because they sent me this wonderful little Walton Goggins interview blurb that I think perfectly sums up how both versions of Cooper Howard would feel about body hair on a partner (it was literally the next ask in my inbox and they came within a few minutes of one another!):

Prewar!Cooper Howard is so used to being around "L.A. people" who are all perfectly made-up, waxed, tanned, and toned constantly, so I think having a partner with any body hair would be strangely exciting to him. I think it would remind him of a kind of authenticity, a sort of comfort with oneself and one's body that he almost never sees anymore. And I think he'd like that a lot. Do you know anything about raising chickens, by the way...?

Also, this quote only confirms further to me that he would be a big ol' fan of bush of all kinds. Even if he waxes his chest, which I think he would for pretty boy actor reasons, his pubes are intact. Like I said, not unkempt, but he's certainly not shaving below the belt. He'd prefer it if you didn't, either. Granted, he's a sweetheart who respects your autonomy, so if you wanna be dolphin smooth, you won't see him complaining. Maybe you've always shaved or waxed, even just trimmed it short, and you get behind on your grooming for a few weeks due to life being hectic. The first time he sees you that way, I think it would turn him on a lot and you'd be due for a lesson on how much this man loves eating hairy pussy. Not bad incentive to ditch the extra work of shaving/trimming, or the extra cost of waxing (which he will happily pay for if you decide you still want to do it in the future, make no mistake...it'll just make him a little sad inside).

The Ghoul (like most ghouls, in my opinion) is just obsessed with human hair, period. Doesn't matter where it's growing from. Spending decades and decades with no hair will make you forget how nice it can feel, how unique its presence can make the human face and body, so I think hair anywhere on you would be constantly petted and stared at once you two got close enough. And I mean anywhere. Hairy knuckles or forearms? Happy trail/belly hair? Especially thick eyebrows? Fascinated by it all, hovering close the second you have anything bare enough for him to touch it. You tease him about it, and he tells you to shut up. When you get really close, you often fall asleep to the feeling of him stroking your hair.

He's long forgotten (and then remembered again) that women used to be expected to shave basically everything, and he's decided that he much prefers the way things are now, for once, on that front. He thinks your armpit and leg hair is cute and he'd be so sad to see you without it.

Would be similarly crazy about bush, but in a softer, more reverent way. I think he would like to take a long nap on a nice, soft bush.

[amsgrey]

he just sounds like that

Kaz Brekker x Fem!reader (established relationship)

synopsis: Arrogance has no place on a job, but you let it lower your guard. You pay the price, but Kaz helps bring you back.

I kind of like merging Book/Show Kaz and trying to keep accurate to his mannerisms and humour etc so hopefully this is good. I came about this idea after thinking about this scene from TLOU and how Kaz most definitely had an asshole voice. Also, I will probably make a few parts/drabbles about Kaz x Inferni Reader, because I love Kaz no apologies.

Warnings: Mentions of Slavery, reader reliving her time as a slave (briefly), Mentions of scars of wrists from slavery chains etc, A fumbley understanding of the technology of the time and inferni powers (it's been so long since I read the books)

Getting split from the other crows was distressing, but there was nothing you could do about that now. You and Kaz just had to keep going, trying to work your way back to the rendezvous point.

"Tell me again why you thought this would work," You hissed to Kaz, who had been leading you in a circle for what felt like forever.

Kaz gave you an irritated glare, "It did work."

You scoffed, "Yeah, that's why we're lost in this saints forsaken mansion."

Kaz let out an exasperated sigh, "Are you done?"

You and Kaz had known each other for years, the entire time you'd known each other you bantered like this. Kaz would act all irritated and stern, but you knew he silently liked the way you could relieve tension and make even him crack a smile. As the only two Crows born and raised in the farmlands of Kerch, you shared a different connection. You had found each other before The Barrel knew Kaz as the force he was now. Kaz had saved you from Slavers and convinced you to join the Dregs, helping you find a life without fear.

Since then, you followed him through everything, which at this current moment, meant even through the merchant's maze of a mansion. Nina, Matthias and Wylan were somewhere outside, waiting for you, Kaz, Inej and Jesper to get what you were after and meet them. You wondered if they would be growing impatient yet, you were late, which almost never happened on a job with Kaz.

The job had started off as most others, breaking in was always the easy part. You had been privy to Kaz's plans, watching him study a map of the mansion for weeks before he committed to the job. He knew the place like the back of his hand, but he didn't know the extent of the new security measures the merch had introduced.

You and Jesper dawdled behind Inej and Kaz as they led the group through the halls. Occasionally Jesper would pause at a painting or display piece and make comments about its ugliness or stupidity.

The last painting he'd criticized was of an older man, dressed in a bright blue kefta with red embroidery. Jesper had caught your sleeve and pointed it out to you, "Looks like the merch has inferni ancestor."

You had screwed your nose up at the portrait, "I thought he was Kaelish?"

"He is," Kaz said, already at the end of the hall with Inej. He was waiting for the two of you to catch up, like a boy calling his dogs home.

Walking through the mansion felt surreal, mostly because you hadn't been to many places with such decadent displays of wealth. The four of you could move through the hallways unnoticed because the Merch and his family were out at the theatre - or whatever it was rich people did in Ketterdam on Sunday Nights. He had brought most of his guards and men with him, leaving the halls silent and unpatrolled. Kaz had called him an arrogant fool, to declare his mansion impenetrable and then take all his men out to prove it. There was no place able to keep out Dirtyhands, especially not when he had his crows by his side.

Thinking back on it you realized how you all had been too arrogant, thinking this job was in and out, easy. You'd let your guard down - something Kaz warned you to never do in this city - and now you were paying the price.

Everything went wrong when you and Kaz finally found what you were looking for - the merch's family jewel, a sapphire embedded in rich Kealish gold. You had easily broken through the fabrikator-made lock, it might have been made by a Grisha but it couldn't hold up against a Grisha. Especially not one who could melt metal with the same ease as cutting pastry. Kaz had reached for the jewels, as soon as he lifted it off the display the room filled with an ominous hum. Like the sound of a machine slowly whirring to life.

Kaz had pocketed the jewels, grabbing your forearm and tugging you along behind him as he went for the door Jesper and Inej were guarding. Before you could make it metal bars slid down over the doorway. You had tried to use your small science to melt the metal, even Jesper tried to budge it, but nothing worked. Kaz ordered Inej and Jesper to find their own way out as alarms chimed, directing you back through the room to another exit.

You had followed behind him willingly, knowing he knew the way around the mansion. You'd been irritated to learn how wrong you were, Kaz knew the layout of the mansion but the Merch had updated the floorplan. Clearly, another Fabrikator addition to hinder thieves.

"Wait," Kaz held up his hand and you barrelled straight into his back at the sudden halt, "Do you hear that?"

Footsteps.

"Back," Kaz whispered, ushering you back the way you had come.

You got to the end of the hall before you heard more bodies approaching, you were surrounded. Immediately you went to the window, trying to pull at the latch and open it. It didn't work, but you could see light dancing on the tree line.

"Kaz," You called, "Look."

You both squinted into the dark, trying to distinguish who it was in the woods. You saw the glint of steel, like someone was spinning a revolver.

"It's Jesper."

The footsteps were getting louder, there was no way you and Kaz could get out of this on your own.

"Step back," You struck your flint, the sparks allowing you to create a ball of flame. You concentrated it as small as it would allow, pressing your palms against the window until cracks started forming. After a few more seconds the pane shattered, sending the shards falling to the ground below. You were on the second floor, even if you wanted to jump there was no way you and Kaz would be able to land safely. You settled for sending up a burst of flames, Jesper and the others would be on the lookout for it, your SOS symbol.

"Stop!" Someone shouted and all hell broke loose.

You and Kaz fought well side by side, you both knew each other's moves, working in tandem to take down opponents. It looked like you might win for a little while, then a woman rounded the corner with her hands pressed together. Heartrender, you realized it too late.

You were woken suddenly, like your heart was all of a sudden coming back to life. You gasped and spluttered, lungs burning. Your hands were bound above your head, separated by a thick metal rod so that you couldn't summon. Already you could feel the ache in your shoulders, hanging from your arms was something you had been used to when you were a slave. Now, you had to fight back the panic that tried to grip your heart.

You struggled to find your footing for a moment, but eventually managed to stand up enough to take the strain off of your wrists.

Kaz.

Where was Kaz?

"Look, Brekker. Your girls fine."

You squinted to find where the voice was coming from, finding the source across the room. Kaz was standing opposite a burly man nearly a foot taller than him. Kaz's face was bloody and bruised, but he had murder in his eyes. You could see it, feel it, all the way across the room. You realized it wasn't just Kaz and the merchant; the other crows were there too. Inej held a blade against the heartrenders throat from earlier, who had both her hands held far apart to show her cooperation. Jesper was not too far away, his pistols in hand as he stared down a man who stood in between you and him.

What did I miss?

"No harm was done," The merchant continued, his voice thick with a Kaelish accent, "What do you say we part ways, unharmed."

Kaz's face didn't change, "Sure."

The Merchant frowned, a glimpse of fear breaking through his resolve, "I don't like your tone, boy."

"He always sounds like that," Jesper joked, glancing at you.

"He has an asshole voice," You agreed. Not two nights ago you and Jesper had been saying the same thing to Matthias at the Slat. You and Jesper enjoyed teasing the Fjerdan, especially regarding Kaz and his 'demjin' ways.

Kaz looked amused, he had the Merchant in the palm of his hand. "Go. Before I change my mind."

The Merchant almost tripped as he ran away, not even stopping for his Heartrender and right-hand man who followed behind him just as quick.

With the immediate threat gone, you felt your resolve begin to crumble. You had to get out of these chains. They would rub your wrists every time you moved, bringing you straight back to your past.

"Stop moving," An older woman had warned you, "It hurts less."

She was probably right, but you were too terrified to listen. Hours ago you were playing on your family's farm, but now you were chained to the roof in a dark, damp cellar. The chains were rusted and coarse, they rubbed the skin around your wrists raw, leaving cuts and grazes everywhere they pressed.

You were only eight, by far the youngest of all the slaves in the cellar. The chains they used to bind you didn't have cuffs, the slavers had just looped the links around your wrists and locked them tight. All you felt was the pain and the fear. All of this because you were Grisha? You only just learned of your power as an Inferni, how could you be worth anything?

The older woman tried to console you, doing her best to quell your tears and sobs, but even she knew the horrors that awaited you. The horrors you would spend years fighting to escape.

"Y/N," Kaz's voice was soft, he stood in front of you, supporting your weight as Jesper worked on freeing your hands from the chains. "Stay here."

You knew he was trying, you could see his own emotions clawing at him. It was one of the things that bound you and Kaz together, the demons of your past. You understood what it was like to fear touch and he understood what it was like to be betrayed. You helped each other, through the flashbacks and nightmares. You two didn't have anyone else, so you fought to have each other.

When Jesper finally broke through the chains, you lurched forward unexpectedly. Kaz held you tighter, trying to keep you upright even with his bad leg. You stood up, holding your hands out to balance yourself.

'I'm okay," You lied, trying to avoid Jesper and Inej's worried glances, "We should get out of here."

Back at the Slat, you sat staring at your cup of cocoa. Nina had made it for you as her way of trying to help, she could hear that your heartbeat hadn't stopped racing since leaving the job.

Jesper and Wylan had offered you gentle conversation, but you couldn't hold it for long. You had claimed you were tired, bidding your friends goodnight and climbing the stairs to your room. You didn't stop at your floor. Your feet carried you further up the steep stairs, stopping when you reached the attic which Kaz had converted into his own room. You didn't have to knock, you just opened the door and announced yourself.

Behind closed doors, Kaz was less concerned about keeping up his Dirtyhands persona. He smiled ever so slightly as you sat on his bed. A few months ago you had forced him to rearrange his room so that you could see him working while you lounged on his bed. You often ended up like this, watching him work after long days and taking comfort in each other's presence.

This time, Kaz wasn't concerned with his papers, he just looked at you, waiting for you to talk. You had talked Kaz through his own episodes many times, you never pushed him or asked him to move quicker than he was ready. For the first time, Kaz wanted to offer you the same comfort, but he wasn't sure if he could.

You were rubbing your wrists, stuck in your own memories of your time chained.

Kaz slowly joined you, giving you time to pull away. You glanced over at him, watching him as he slowly removed his gloves.

"Kaz-"

Kaz shook his head to silence you, continuing what he was doing. He placed his gloves neatly on the bedside table, turning to you. He reached out slowly and you let him. He gently pried your fingers away from your wrist, taking your hands in his own. He turned your palms up, his fingers slowly ghosting over the scars on your skin.

Kaz could feel the warmth of your skin through his fingertips. It helped him fight off the flashbacks, the warmth reminding him you were safe, healthy, alive.

Kaz's fingers traced over a scar on your right thumb. You couldn't help the small sigh that escaped your lips.

Kaz's head snapped up to look at you, fear filling his eyes.

"I'm okay," You meant it this time. The flashbacks were gone, locked in the vault in the back of your mind.

Kaz could tell that you meant it, see the anxiety leave your face. He drew his hands back, reaching for his gloves again. You smiled at him as he slipped his hands back into them, the leather bringing him the comfort he needed.

Kaz offered you a quiet apology.

"Kaz," You couldn't help the adoring smile on your face, "It's okay."

You knew Kaz could handle contact more when his gloves were on, so you gently took his hand. Kaz watched as you copied his movements from earlier, gently opening up his fingers. You slowly raised his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm.

"I love you," You said, "Gloves and all."

Kaz smiled, a genuine smile that you only saw in the safety of these four walls.

He let out a quiet reply, "I love you too."

[the-apocrypha]

Cottagecore Series DVD Bonus Features

By popular request: the deleted scenes of how Dream and Hob ended up confessing their respective Big Secrets to one another. Below the cut are a series of conversations that take place a few days after Dream announces his pregnancy with Orpheus, and they are incredibly angsty. They also heavily feature abortion as a conversation topic. These were originally written to intercut with at least two miracles but didn't end up working out due to tone issues, and also don't really work as a standalone fic, so. If you're interested--enjoy!

The possibility of a child—their child, their own, of them—had occasionally crossed Hob’s mind, in the same way that other fantastical things like dragons and public libraries did. Fleeting. Unformed. Simple, wonderful little daydreams. 

The reality of it was both impossibly more exciting and terrifying than he could have ever imagined. 

Hob thought of a beautiful child with tiny pointed ears and glowing amber eyes. He thought of a babe born to the world still and pale, never to draw a single breath of life. He thought of all the stories his mother used to tell him, the skipping games and the toy swords and songs that lived inside of him, waiting to be passed down to someone small and new. He thought of a fae child, enamored of the forest and magic and books of learning, with little use for its mortal father. 

Once, when Hob was young, his mother had been called to help an ewe who had been laboring for the better part of the day. Twin lambs, both trying to emerge at the same time.

They’d had mutton for dinner, that night. And for many nights after that. 

Hob could not stop thinking about it. About everything.

What if the child came out completely human. 

What if the child came out completely fae. 

“You told me once,” Hob said, the words leaving his mouth even as lead weights sank pits into his stomach, even as his heart said don’t ask this don’t ask this don’t do it, but he had to, he had to know. “You told me once. That it took you a very long time to grow up.” 

Dream paused. “Yes,” he said, at length. “But time in the realm of the fae is not so… linear as it is here. It is—it was subject to neither law nor order. Time was fickle. Changeable.” 

“You said that it was almost a hundred years.” 

“That was… a guess,” Dream said. 

Hob stared. 

“It was unusual,” Dream added. He did not meet Hob’s eyes. “It. It was a choice I made. The rest of my siblings came of age much faster than I.” 

“How fast?” Hob asked, heart in his throat. 

Dream swallowed. 

“How fast?” 

“The child is half mortal, Hob it should not—it will not age as a fae child would. It cannot, it—it will not have the same power, the same gifts, and moreover, the laws of this universe would not allow—” 

“Oh, you know that, do you?” Hob asked, eyebrows raised. “Like you knew that a mortal man couldn’t get you pregnant in the first place?” 

Dream flinched. 

Hob sighed, and scrubbed at his face. “I’m just. I’m just thinking. We don’t know what we’re going to get, eight months from now—” If they were going to get anything at all. “—and we’ve got zero precedent to go off of, here. It. It could be anything. It could grow like a human and take sixteen years and be done. But, it could also…” 

“It will not,” Dream said, but there was a traitorous wobble in his voice.

“It could,” Hob insisted. “It could, Dream, and we just. I just want to be prepared for that. I want you to be prepared for that.” 

Dream stared, like the whole world was crashing down around him. As if he had not considered this at all. “No.” 

“Yes.” 

“Hob—” 

“But, listen—listen, it’ll be okay,” Hob said hurriedly, and took Dream’s hands into his own. Put on the bravest face he could muster. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay. I promise. I’ll be with you every step of the way, for. For as long as I can be. Even if it means being stuck in the terrible twos for an entire decade. You just might have to do the teenage years on your own, that’s all. And. You know. The thousand years that come after that.” 

Dream closed his eyes. 

Hob tried desperately to rally. “And, hey! The good news is, at least I won’t be around to give any dodgy sex talks when it comes time for that, since I obviously—” 

“Hob,” Dream said. 

“Though clearly pregnancy prevention isn’t your strong suit either,” Hob allowed. 

“Hob.” 

Dream’s eyes were open again, and they were full of tears. 

“Hob,” Dream said again, and it caught in his throat. “Hob, I—I am not going to live for another thousand years.” 

Hob frowned. “But—”

“I made,” Dream said, and with the next blink the tears spilled over, “a bargain.” 

The reason that Hob had kept it a secret for so long (was because he was a coward) was because, in his opinion, there had been no good that would come of the truth. 

Dream had assumed that the people of Eskham had turned against Hob for being a hedgewitch. He’d assumed in turn that mortals were prejudiced against any being with magic, which was a category that happened to include the fae but more importantly included Hob, who did not have the ability to summon tornadoes or fell ancient oaks. Dream still sweetly seethed about the injustices Hob’s own people had done upon him. He had yet to even once seem concerned for his own safety. 

This was fair. 

Dream had, after all, taken out an entire village of mortals in one wrothful fell swoop. 

Now, Dream had confessed what had happened in the aftermath of that massacre—what he had so readily sacrificed, to save Hob’s life—and it had been devastating in its own right. It had left Hob awake at night, imagining what it would be like to grow older and older and older, while his child did not. 

But it had also pulled on the string that unraveled whatever remained of their tapestried joy at the possibility of impending parenthood. The happiness was gone. The happiness should never have existed in the first place, because the ache of its absence was far worse than to have never known it at all. Hob could not believe he ever felt such simple, mindless elation at what had quickly become a question to which every answer was more horrifying than the last. 

Hob thought of a babe with perfectly pointed ears, stolen away in the night, drowned in the river. 

Hob thought of a child with huge, phosphorescent eyes, tied to a stake above a pile of dried tinder. Screaming.

Hob thought of black-nailed teenager who had had forty-odd years of childhood with its parents before they succumbed to old age, and left their child alone in a world it did not belong in. Orphaned. Ostracized. Hunted. 

It filled Hob’s stomach and left him unable to eat. It pressed down on his chest at night, and he could not sleep. 

And he knew what he needed to do. 

At the same table where Dream had confessed not three days ago, Hob sat himself heavily on the bench. 

Dream stared back wanly. He’d spent most of the morning vomiting copiously, which perhaps made this timing even worse, but Hob knew if he did not say it now he might never say it at all. 

“Dream,” Hob said carefully. The words stuck in his throat like glass, and they tore him open one by one as he forced them out. “There’s. The other day, when you told me about the bargain you made. I—there’s something that I should. Something I should have told you, before—something. Something.” He swallowed. “Something I. Something.” His nails dug into his palms. His heart was pounding in his ears. “Something—” 

“Hob.” 

Dream’s hand splayed across his chest is like ice on fire. Hob sucked in a breath, and relished the burn. 

He seized Dream’s hand in his own. Looked Dream in the eyes. Prepared to pull this one last thread of sanity for the person he loved more than anything in this world. 

“Something,” Hob said unevenly, holding onto Dream like a lifeline, “that I should have told you a long time ago. About. About Eskham.” 

Dream tilted his head, brows drawing together. “Eskham?” 

Hob nodded. 

“What about it?” Dream asked. 

He had no idea. He had no clue. 

“That day,” Hob said, and he was gripping Dream’s hand hard as if he could prevent the inevitable withdrawal. “When they came for me.” 

And Dream nodded. He reached out with his other hand to rest it on Hob’s forearm—a gesture meant as supportive that only served to make Hob’s stomach drop to new depths. 

But this was not about him. This was not even about Dream. It was about their child, carried one day into a town square with pitchforks at its throat and devil spawn in its ears. It was about deserved truths. 

“That day,” Hob said again. He swallowed against a dry tongue. Against the heart that was trying to escape through his throat. “That day. The mob. They weren’t looking for me.”

Dream stared. 

Hob’s heart was pounding so hard he thought he might be sick. 

He watched, as Dream’s face went from confusion, to realization, to—

Bloodless. 

Grey. Dead eyes and parted lips. Staring, but not seeing. 

“I—defended you,” Hob made himself say. “I wouldn’t tell them. Where you were. I told them that I loved you, that you were just as natural as any other creature in this realm and that I would rather die before I let any of them hurt you, and—” 

Dream yanked his hands back. 

Hob tried to hold on, but he wasn’t quick enough. Not strong enough. 

“You,” Dream whispered. 

“I don’t regret it,” Hob said frantically, almost angrily. He was losing control, the tidal wave of panic and horror sweeping him out to a roiling sea he could not swim in, and he barely knew which words would leave his mouth when he opened it again. “I haven’t regretted it for a single second, Dream, not once, not ever, I’d have burned on that stake a thousand times over before I let them touch you, I’d—” 

And Dream bolted. 

Hob leapt to his feet to follow—but his calf muscle seized, and he careened to the side and just barely managed to grab the table at the last second. Stood there, panting, gripping the table as his calf cramped hard enough to render the entire leg useless. Staring at the empty doorway. 

He deserved this, he supposed. 

It didn’t make it hurt any less. 

The summer air was thick and sweet beneath the canopy of the forest. The trees mostly blocked the breeze, but so also the warmth of the sun, which made it about as pleasant as any place was during the midday heat. They were sat at the base of an ancient yew tree that Dream favored, not far from the cottage, and had been for some time. Ravens chattered and rustled softly overhead. A large halo of bird shit was slowly accumulating around them. 

Dream inhaled as if to speak, for the third time in about as many minutes. This time, though, the words came. 

“I do not want. Our child. To be hunted.” 

Hob closed his eyes. “I know.” 

“We do not know what powers it will be born to. What features it will be born to.” 

Unspoken—the slimmest chance, the highest hope, that it would somehow be born wholly mortal. 

A mortal body. A mortal magic. A mortal lifespan. 

“We’ll do whatever we have to, to protect them. Whatever it takes. You know we will,” Hob said, and even as anxiety turned his stomach over, rage flared through him hot and fast. “Anyone that tries to lay a finger on our child, I’ll—I’ll kill ‘em. I would. Anyone. Everyone. And if they think I’m terrifying just wait until they meet the thirty-foot forest nightmare right behind me that can summon hail and rent the earth.” 

Dream swallowed. “Hail and earth. Did not save you.” 

Hob tightened his grip around Dream’s waist. “Yes it did.” 

“You—” 

“Yes it bloody well did. You saved my life that day, you fought, and if you hadn’t been there I—” 

“If I had not been there,” Dream interrupted darkly. He barked one harsh, bitter laugh. “If I had never inflicted myself upon you in the first place, then no mob would have ever come for you at all. You would be—” 

“Lonely,” Hob said. He tried desperately to keep the frustration from rising. “I told you. I would have been lonely, and bored, Dream, and I would have died in that house feeling as if I’d never truly lived at all. You are the best thing to ever happen to me.” 

“I nearly killed you,” Dream said. 

“You saved—”

“And now,” Dream continued, staring into the depths of the forest, “I have attempted to thrust a child upon you, without your consent. I have tried to sentence you to spending the rest of your meager years consumed in the care of a creature that will only suffer as a result of my own hubris—my own selfishness—and it will resent us. It will hate us. It will hate me, and it will be right to do so for—” 

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,” Hob said, scrambling around in front of Dream, and cupping his face. 

Dream stared determinedly to the side, with eyes that were red-rimmed and shiny. His breaths came uneven and jagged. 

“You and I both know that you didn’t get pregnant on purpose,” Hob said fiercely. “You didn’t know better. I didn’t know better. Right?” 

“Hob—” 

“This isn’t something that you’ve done to me. To us. Neither one of us is to blame here. Not one little bit. And it wouldn’t matter anyway if it was, because whatever happens, you know that we’re in this together. We’re going to do what we always do, and make it work. Figure it out. Pregnancy, childbirth, parenthood, all of it. Together. Yeah?” 

Dream set his jaw, and at last met Hob’s eyes. Slowly, he reached up, and pulled Hob’s hands away from his face. 

“You argue. That we are absolved of any guilt, for what strife our child may face in life. Because we held no intention of conception, in our couplings,” Dream said. 

“...Yes?” Hob said, eyebrows raising. “I don’t think we can be blamed for bringing a child into the world when we didn’t know it was possible in the first place.” 

“Incorrect,” Dream disagreed. 

Hob opened his mouth, but Dream continued too quickly. 

“Ignorance acquits us from blame in the conception of this child, yes.” Dream’s hand moved, in the periphery of Hob’s vision, delving into the folds of his robe. “But we are not without agency, in these early months of pregnancy.” 

Dread swung sudden and hard into Hob’s chest, like a fist. 

“...What do you mean?” 

Dream held out his hand between them, and uncurled his fingers. A cluster of flowers rested there. 

Tansy. 

“It sings to me of… release,” Dream said. His thumb brushed over golden petals like spikes. “Of choice. Liberty. Of the harmonization of poison and medicine, as one.”

Hob took in a deep breath, because he was, for the first time in days, hopeful. 

Hob was also terrified. 

Hob was sick, sick, sick, sick. 

“I believe,” Dream whispered, eyes boring in Hob’s, “that it would be enough. To—take care of it.” 

There was a cup of water on the table, steaming and yellow with tansy. 

Choice, Dream said it sang. Release. Liberty. The harmonization of poison and medicine, as one. 

But to Hob, it was silent as a grave. 

Dream was holding the cup so tightly his knuckles had gone white. The steam had long disappeared from the cup, leaving only a stagnant yellow tonic. Hob had offered to leave the cottage twice and allow Dream some privacy, and on the second time Dream had grabbed his hand, hard, and he hadn’t let go since. 

Hob’s fingers ached where they were threaded through Dream’s, but he did not complain. 

He sat in silence, and watched Dream raise the cup to his mouth. 

Watched him inhale. 

Watched him close his eyes. 

Watched him press the rim of the cup to his lips. 

Watched as Dream froze, and was perfectly still for an eternity save for the tremble of the cup in his grasp—

And the cup slammed down onto the table, sloshing poison everywhere, and Dream gasped, “I cannot. I cannot, forgive me, Hob, I—” 

Hob grabbed him and pulled him in hard. “It’s okay—” 

“—I cannot do it, I cannot—” 

“—you don’t have to—” 

“I should,” Dream snarled, gripping the fabric of Hob’s tunic and pushing back. There were tears streaming down his face. “I should end it, I should be rid of it. It is. It is the only humane option, the only option that guarantees that—that—” 

“I know, love,” Hob said miserably, his own throat going tight and hot. “I know that. But—” 

“Hob,” Dream choked out. He tried to inhale, but could not. “Hob, I can—hear it.” 

Hob’s heart skipped a beat, and his mouth went numb. “Y-you—” 

“I can—” Dream slapped his hands over his mouth. He stared at Hob in horror. 

Dream, who could hear the songs of river stones and the herbs in the garden. Who communed with foxes and ancient oak trees alike. Who had come to Hob with news of this pregnancy but without explanation as to how he knew. 

“You can hear it,” Hob repeated blankly. 

“I should not have told you,” Dream said, shaking his head. His eyes were blank and unseeing and wet with tears. “I. I should not have told you, I told myself I would not, I—it should not matter. It does not matter.” 

“What does it sound like?” Hob asked. 

Dream looked up at him. His mouth opened, but no words came out. 

“Dream, what does it sound like?” 

He shouldn’t ask. 

He couldn’t not know. 

“Like. A songbird,” Dream whispered. 

A songbird. 

“The most beautiful—” Dream choked on a sob. “The most beautiful songbird, Hob, the most wonderful songbird in the world.” 

And Hob. Hob, quite abruptly, could not imagine a world where he did not one day get to hear that song. He could not imagine a world in which he did not get to hold their child in his arms this winter and instantly fall in love with whatever features the world had seen fit to give them, mortal or fae or some splendid combination of both. 

He could not imagine what it would be like, for Dream to sit at this table and drink down poison and then listen to the song of their child go silent. 

Dream sobbed in his arms. He begged for forgiveness—from Hob. Their future child. The universe. I have failed, he said, over and over again. Selfish, and weak, and worthless, he named himself, and he would not be consoled with any combination or repetition of words Hob had to offer. 

But still, the tansy sat untouched. 

Eventually, it went out the window. 

And the songbird lived another day.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for avoiding my husband on purpose, like, all the time? my husband (m36) and i (f34) have been married for almost 10 years (anniversary in a few months). we have 3 kids (m10, f8, f1) and he works full time while i stay at home. even before we got married i didnt really have friends other than him, and i always had a hard time finding excuses to get out of the house. frequently, he gets to hang out with his buddies who he also works with, and ever since we had kids he's always going out and leaving me home alone even when hes not at work just to idk. hang out at bars and pretend we don't exist. well lately ive been making time for myself to go out when the kids are at school (my youngest is pretty well behaved so i just take her with me instead of paying a babysitter) and i had managed to get kinda friendly with some of the wives of my husbands coworkers (theyre all members of the same union, so we see each other at those functions every once in awhile). i thought it was all going well and i was having fun and enjoying getting to be social for once, but about 2 weeks ago, the whole family was invited out for lunch (a picnic type thing) with his buddies from work's families. all was going well and for the most part even the kids were having fun, but then my husband got absolutely fucking trashed for no reason. none of the other guys were acting like that, and we've had conversations about him not doing that sort of thing, but he NEVER listens. he's always acting like this, but usually i dont have to see when its in public. well he embarrassed me so fucking much. he was trying to start fights, messing up his clothes, and wouldn't listen to me at all. just in his own world as always. i should've known because its been a decade of this, but i could have sworn it wasn't this bad before. he wasn't like this when we dated you know? so we got home and i was just. grossed out and annoyed. i slept on the couch and pretty much ever since then, i haven't been talking to him. i got a text from one of the ladies saying that a wednesday hangout thing i had been invited to had been canceled, but i pretty much KNOW 100% that it wasn't, and that they just don't want to be associated with me now. the kids don't really seem bothered by the tension around the house (i think its sort of normal to them since hes frequently not around anyways). i wouldn't be near as annoyed if there wasn't a part of my brain telling me "he did it on purpose". i know that's just how he acts but i could SWEAR its almost like he just doesnt want me to have friends. he doesn't want to hear about it, he just wants me THERE at home, watching the kids and existing solely for his convenience. i used to consider divorce, before we had our youngest. but i haven't had a job since high school, and i couldnt put the burden of asking for help on my sisters. they hate him, but i couldnt ask them for that support. and i dont even know what the kids would think, i cant do that to them. but yesterday, my husband brought it up (cornered me in our room pretty much) and asked why i was ignoring him. what if he really didnt know why? i TOLD him, but its like he forgot or just expects me to be "over it" by now. all i wanted was just this one thing, to HAVE FRIENDS, have that time away from being just "mom" and do what i want. he gets to do that so why cant i? or AT LEAST he could put some more effort into being around and doing things as a family? but i still wonder if im being the asshole, for giving him the cold shoulder for this long. he didnt have a happy childhood or good examples for parents so maybe he just thinks this is normal? i never asked because i assumed he knew it wasn't. and he does seem like, disappointed that i wont come to bed. maybe ive been driving him off and that's why he doesnt like to come home? idk at this point, im at a loss. aita?

[ihavemanyhusbands]

A Feast of Blood

Also on AO3

Pairing: Vampire!Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham x Vampire!Reader (fem)

WC: 3.5k words

Summary: An AU in which Hannibal is a vampire. // Shortly after turning you into a vampire, your sire, Hannibal Lecter, teaches you how to feed, using Will Graham as subject. Things just get really horny from then on lmao

Warnings: Dead dove DO NOT EAT, SMUT (18 + ONLY), Fem!Reader, lots of body fluids being swapped (saliva, blood, cum // don't read if it makes you queasy), vampirism, blood drinking (consensual), blood mentions, biting, raw p in v (DO NOT DO IT), slightly subby Will?, very slight enemies to lovers if you squint, let me know if anything else!

Tags: @the-devils-littlegirl

--------

"Well fed devils behave better than famished saints." -D.L. Smith.

-------

The night drew closer to the hour between the dog and the wolf, shadows deepening. It had been quiet for the most part, as if the house was also holding its breath in anticipation.

Then the doorbell rang, loud as a death knell, announcing his arrival.

“Dinner time,” Hannibal said with a grin, his tone almost playful. 

He got up to open the front door, but you stayed put, smoothing out the hem of your dress. It was nothing fancy since you knew you would very likely ruin it, but you still wanted to look presentable.

You were more curious than nervous about tonight’s lesson, especially since it wasn’t with a complete stranger. 

For a week after Hannibal had turned you, he fed you only the blood that he’d procured. He’d wanted you to regain your strength first, but he had stressed the importance of learning to feed by yourself as soon as you were able.

As it were, Will, his most consistent donor, had been called in as the subject. You had met him well before you were turned, though even then Hannibal was well established as your sire. 

Will was always reserved, if a bit prickly, towards you. You wondered if he’d thought of you as just another one of Hannibal’s human playthings, gullible enough to believe he’d actually turn you.

It was true enough that Hannibal had fed on you a few times, but it was unlike his other feedings. You had watched him a couple of other times, oscillating between unbridled carnage and self-possession. 

The latter was more like bonding for him — The brutal intimacy of the bite, the unspoken trust that no deadly harm would be inflicted, the decadence of your life’s essence flowing through him. Sustaining him. 

But of course, he had kept his word, guiding you into the eternal night. And these were pleasures you would get to experience anew, just from the other side of things. You wondered what Will thought of the sudden turn of fate. 

He followed Hannibal into the living room, absentmindedly undoing the top buttons of his flannel shirt. You raised your eyebrows at Hannibal, who seemed equally amused at Will’s apparent eagerness. 

“A simple hello would be enough of a greeting,” you said lightly, tone just teasing enough for him to know you weren’t sneering. 

Will let his hands drop as he became conscious of his actions. “Force of habit.”

“Sit, please, Will,” Hannibal said, gesturing towards an armchair. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Will snorted at the irony of trying to relax around not one, but two bloodsuckers, but he sat regardless. His posture was tense, arms rigidly placed on the armrests, shoulders squared. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve started getting nervous now,” you said, feeling bold enough to continue testing him. “This isn’t your first rodeo.”

“Well, I trust Hannibal possesses enough self-control not to kill me. You, on the other hand…” He grimaced as if remembering himself, looking down. 

You sniffed, offended. “I didn’t pounce on you the minute you walked in, did I?” 

Hannibal put a placating hand on your arm. “Don’t take it to heart, my love. I have had years to harness myself, and it has not been an easy journey. And you, Will, must also understand that patience goes both ways.”

Will inclined his head in acknowledgment. “True, I apologize for that.”

Still, Hannibal could understand his spike in anxiety, but he’d decided to be polite and not mention it outright, as you did. 

“Something to drink for you, maybe? I’ve got that scotch you like,” he offered, and Will accepted.

As Hannibal went to get it for him, you and Will stared at each other for a tense moment. Perhaps his animosity stemmed from envy at you being a newly minted vampire. You weren’t sure if Hannibal had ever promised him anything, but you were sure your sire would have mentioned it if that was the case.

“Think you’ll be able to stand having me close to you?” You asked, tone mild once again. 

Hannibal returned, handing Will a glass of the amber liquid. He raised it in your direction, as if toasting to you. 

“After one of these, I’ll be loose and relaxed for you, don’t worry,” he said wryly, taking a swig. 

Your eyes were drawn to his throat as his Adam’s apple bobbed. You briefly wondered if you’d be able to taste the scotch in his blood, and if it would warm you the same way it did him.

“Better?” Hannibal asked, one eyebrow raised. 

Will nodded, flexing his fingers. Then, with a more determined look on his face, he turned to you. 

“Can I sit next to you?” He asked. “Seems like a good place to start.”

You slowly nodded, shuffling to the side to give him as much space as you could. You unconsciously glanced over at Hannibal for reassurance, and he gave you a serene smile.

“That’s better,” he said. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

This time, Will was sensible enough not to react. His head turned towards you, but his eyes didn’t meet yours quite yet. 

“That’s a nice perfume. What is it?” He asked, actively trying to soften his tone. 

“Oleander,” you said. 

“Deceptively sweet, but ultimately deadly,” he said, referring to the flower’s poisonous effects. 

He looked up then, eyebrows raised, and you let out an amused huff. “I suppose you’re gonna say it’s fitting.”

“That’s a given, but take that as a compliment, please.”

Hannibal chuckled. “There it is, Will. Flattery will get you much further.”

“Why don’t you sit on his other side?” You asked Hannibal. “Maybe he’ll be more comfortable that way.”

He complied, making Will scoot closer to the middle, his leg lightly brushing yours. That first contact made you tense, hunger stirring curiously within you.

Warmth emanated from him and your sensitive ears registered his heartbeat, loud as a drum. You could see the pulsing blue veins underneath his pale skin, branching out like the roots of an ancient tree. He was deliciously alive, and it filled you with longing. 

There were many things in your new, preternatural state that you were still getting used to. Nostalgia was a sheen on your mind you knew you had to shed, but it would take some time. You found yourself leaning closer to him, wanting to be near that spark, but both men misinterpreted this move.

“Easy now, we’re still warming up here,” Will said, but he didn’t move away. “Unless you’re just absolutely famished, then I don’t want you to torture yourself anymore.”

“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Do you need another drink, Will?” Hannibal asked, sensing the tension returning.

He shook his head. “I’m good for now. Do you think it might be a good idea to try with my wrist first?”

“Yes, great idea,” Hannibal said. “Though not too much. We’ll save it for the next part.”

Will unbuttoned his sleeve and rolled it up to his elbow. He offered you his arm, the inside of his wrist facing up. You took it gingerly, your fingers lightly following the patterns of his veins. The touch was so gentle it tickled him a little, making the hairs on his arm rise. 

You brought his wrist up closer to your face, looking over at Hannibal as your lips were mere inches from making contact. He nodded encouragingly.

“There is more room for error here, but not by much. Don’t fully sink your teeth in, it’s enough to just break the skin,” he said, making sure you were listening by holding your gaze.

This time, your eyes flicked over to Will’s face, and he also nodded. Your sharp, slightly elongated canines pierced the soft flesh and blood bubbled right into your mouth in a burst of flavor.

You let out a sound akin to a whimper, latching onto the wound. Will sucked in a sharp breath at the sting but stayed put. 

“That’s enough now,” Hannibal said firmly, bringing you back to the present.

You painstakingly reined yourself in and lapped it up with your tongue, closing the small wounds. Your lips were smeared crimson as you straightened, panting, chin dipped in slight embarrassment.

“Sorry…” you murmured, licking your lips. 

“Don’t apologize, you did good, Mieloji,” he said reassuringly, the Lithuanian endearment making you smile. “Now, how about we get to the good part?”

Hunger lashed your insides like a whip at the prospect of more. They could both see the feverish glint in your eye, and Hannibal knew you were trying your hardest to prove Will wrong. He wasn’t sure, however, of how long you would last before giving in to instinct.

He pressed a little closer to Will, knowing he would have to be more careful this time around. You, on the other hand, hesitated.

“Do you… need a break or something?” You asked Will slowly.

“No. Do you?” He said evenly, undoing a few other buttons on his shirt and pushing it off one shoulder.

You shook your head embarrassingly fast. He chuckled, and it was the first time you had seen him break out into a smile that night. It set you more at ease, encouraging you to draw closer as well.

His breathing hitched as you leaned against his arm. Your face neared the crook of his neck, and you gently nudged his jaw upwards with your nose.

“That’s it, my love, tilt his head just so,” Hannibal instructed patiently, his voice like a purr. “See the line of his artery, how his pulse surges at your nearness.”

Your mouth watered, your pupils blown wide with a beastly desire. Before you could help yourself, you traced the tip of your tongue over his skin. You could taste the adrenaline in his sweat, but a hum of pleasure escaped Will’s lips.

Hannibal chuckled, letting you indulge a moment longer.

“Now remember, the bite must be precise. A single fluid motion, otherwise it can get messy,” he continued, tangling his fingers through Will’s curls, keeping his head in place. “He will whimper, but the pain only lasts a moment.”

“What if he moves?” You murmured, voice low and slightly hoarse, conscience fighting through the fog of your bloodlust.

“He won’t, he’s very well-behaved. Isn’t that right, Will?”

Will nodded his assent, eyes heavy-lidded. “I promise I’ll be good.”

Angling your head to one side for better access, you didn’t let yourself hesitate. Once your teeth tore into the side of his neck, his body went rigid at first, but then it slowly started to relax. 

You clasped him against you, lost in the rush of blood his heart was suddenly pumping down your throat. Without you noticing, you hooked a leg over one of his, your body trying to envelop him like a serpent. 

It didn’t matter that you’d been bickering mere moments ago, bristling at the mere thought of being in the same room together. All of that melted away as soon as your lips touched his skin. Will’s breathing had turned shallow, the barest of sounds occasionally escaping his lips. 

His taste was indescribable, like pure starlight, crackling like electricity within you. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and all you wanted was more, more, more. You could perfectly understand why Hannibal would occasionally give in to savagery.

“Slow down,” Hannibal instructed, taking hold of one of your arms. “Slower. That’s it, good girl.”

You peered up at him through your lashes, your eyes bloodshot and utterly inhuman. He caressed the back of your head gently, proud of you for fighting so hard to keep control of yourself. He was on the same boat as you, the metallic scent like a siren’s lure.

“Now stop, before you take too much,” he said, looking over at Will. “Are you doing okay, Will?”

“Dizzy, but I’ll live,” he said weakly, groaning softly as you closed the puncture wounds with your tongue once more. “Do you need me, too?”

“Just rest for now,” Hannibal said absently, eyes fixed on you. “I’ll get myself a taste.”

You disentangled yourself from Will, slowly coming back to reality. The lower half of your face, your neck, and your chest were stained crimson, adorning you like macabre jewelry. 

Hannibal immediately drew you to him, kissing you like he was trying to devour you whole. The blood smeared messily between you, tongues swirling in each other’s mouths. When you separated, an obscene, pink string of saliva hung between your lips.

He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself some despite the desire glazing his eyes.

“I… I will get you some water, and something to eat,” He said to Will in a daze, standing up from the couch slowly. “Just— one second.”

You watched him leave the room, your mind still whirling from the whole thing. Then suddenly, you scented fresh blood once again and looked over at Will in surprise. He had bitten his lip hard enough to bleed, and it was starting to swell. He was breathing hard, and there was a plea in his striking blue eyes.

You let out a desirous, pathetic sound, your body moving on its own accord. Your lips slid over his in an almost kiss, your faces inches apart, breaths mingling.

“You really want me to kiss you?” You panted, eyes heavy lidded. “I thought you hated me.”

He shook his head. “It was envy, and it was want. It was always want.”

You kissed him then, trembling eagerly. It was slow and tentative at first, but intensity built quickly. You were still riding the high of feeding from him, but a languorous heat was also spreading through you; Burning everything else away.

You didn’t hear Hannibal returning, but you felt him take his place back on Will’s other side. One look at him, and you could immediately tell he was just as restless. You broke the kiss for a moment to meet Hannibal’s lips, enticing him further.

And when you returned to Will’s lips, Hannibal’s face drew close, too. Then all three of you were kissing, a mess of lips and tongues and an ever-growing voracity. 

You left them to it for a moment and practically tore the rest of Will’s shirt off, exposing more of his warm skin. You trailed open-mouthed kisses all over it and Will moaned into Hannibal’s mouth.

“Please,” he pleaded, as if it was the only word he could say. “Please.”

“What do you need?” You rasped, kissing his neck and making him shudder. 

“Have me, use me,” he said as Hannibal pulled back. “Leave nothing behind.”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows in delighted surprise, watching you slide onto Will’s lap, straddling him. 

“Careful what you wish for,” he said, smirking. “She just might make it come true.”

He stood and helped you pull your dress over your head. Will’s brows furrowed and he let out a small, agonized sound as he took you in. His hands roamed over you reverently, like a worshiper praising his goddess. 

You did quick work of his belt, pulling off his pants as much as you could. You reached down and felt the velvety underside of his erection with the tips of your fingers. His hips bucked into your hand and you shushed soothingly, gently, promising to ease his torment.

And then, holding it by the base, you slowly sank down on his cock. His grip tightened on your hips, helping you move as Hannibal dipped down to kiss you. His fingers stroked up and down your throat, keeping your head tilted back and your chest exposed.

Will’s lips latched onto one of the hardened peaks of your nipples, and you felt his stubble graze the soft skin as he rubbed his face against your breast. He repeated his motions with the other one, grunting when he felt you clench down on him slightly. His teeth added an edge that made you buck and writhe, but neither let you move too far.

You palmed Hannibal’s growing bulge over his slacks as you dragged your tongue over his. He covered your hand with one of his, pressing your palm tighter against it. Your hips rolled against Will’s faster, your free hand buried in his hair, tugging slightly.

“Fuck me,” you could hear Will breathe out in tempo with your movements, like a hypnotic chant. “Oh, yeah, fuck me… just like that.”

“Katinėli, let me get a better taste of you,” Hannibal murmured deliriously, tilting your head to the side and biting into your shoulder.

You cried out, eyelids twitching as your eyes rolled back into your skull. It was that overwhelming rush that made the first orgasm violently slam against you. Momentarily, you became nothing but pure sensation, held aloft by the two of them. 

When you came back into your body, Hannibal was mending the skin of your shoulder, undoing his slacks. You collapsed against Will, trying to catch your breath. He clung to you, in the last throes of his own release. As it turned out, the intensity of your climax had milked out his own. He smiled beatifically, his eyes heavy-lidded, long lashes fanning close to his cheekbones.

You couldn’t help a weak chuckle, lightly kissing his jaw. “Now you might need a break.”

“When I get my strength back, you’ll see… but for now, yes,” he said, also chuckling.

“All the better for me,” Hannibal said from behind you. Your back bowed as he planted a ticklish kiss on the base of your spine. “It’s my turn to reward you.”

Your gluttonous desire flared back to life, and you were pliant as he helped you off of Will, bending you over the back of the couch. Hannibal extended his hand towards him and said, “A little help?”

Will spat in his hand, and Hannibal slicked his saliva over his cock. You heard him suck in a breath as he pushed into you, stretching you slowly. Will offered you his hand and you threaded your fingers through his, keeping eye contact with him as Hannibal’s hips began snapping into yours. 

Your mouth was slackened by wanton moans, your body pressed flat against the back of the couch as Hannibal bent over you. One of his hands was on the back of your neck, pinning you in place, while the other gripped your hip.

“Such a good girl for me,” he panted. “You did so, so good tonight.”

“Please, let me taste you too,” you begged, already losing yourself once more to the hazy oblivion.

He could deny you nothing, so he presented his wrist to your wanting mouth. The pain of your teeth was exquisite, and you drank with the greediness of the famished.

Drinking from each other was like falling in love all over again. Like the deepest embrace, beyond carnality; Beyond even the physical. More of his weight leaned on you as he slid in and out of you, faster and faster, the collective euphoria between you growing. His grunts and moans were like a savage melody to your ears, indicating that he was getting close.

Will was whispering praise and sweet nothings near your ear as you gripped his hand tighter. These soft coaxings, along with the soothing feeling that Hannibal’s blood brought, and you felt yourself dissolve once more like seafoam under the sunlight. The ecstasy was almost religious, a glimpse of the heaven you might never see beyond moments like this. 

But if it meant your nights would be filled with such encounters, then you were more than okay with that. 

With one last, triumphant growl, Hannibal came inside of you. His cock was fully sheathed in your cunt, his last few strokes short and tight, riding out every last wave of pleasure alongside you.

He slipped out of you, withdrawing his wrist from your mouth. You sat back down next to Will, leaning against him. With the last of your strength, grabbed the glass of water and helped him drink from it. The three of you shared sated, conspiratorial smiles, like you instinctively knew all along things would lead to this moment.

“How about a bath?” Hannibal offered, kissing your shoulders as he hovered near you. “We could all use some cleaning up.”

“That’s a good idea,” you said. “And then we can take better care of Will here. I want to make sure he recovers his strength, after all.”

Will couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, you’re so kind to think about me.”

You smiled a Cheshire cat’s grin. “See? I can give as much as I take.”

“I’m never doubting you again,” he said, glancing up at Hannibal. “Either of you. Hannibal was right about you all along.”

You nuzzled his neck. “Hmmm, if only you’d realized sooner, we’d have been much more amicable before this.”

“But I’m yours now too, aren’t I?”

Yes, he was, and neither you nor Hannibal had any plans to let him go any time soon.

-------

[themotherofhorses]

Vic!! I have a request pretty pls hehehe,

Creepy dark! Aemond forcing his way with fem!reader as she sleeps after stalking him for many moons? PWEASEEE

what was mine is still mine, regardless of time.

pairing: soft but dark!aemond targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader

warnings: explicit language. nsfw smut. slight breeding kink towards the end. consented abduction. aemond is (as usual) obsessive and possessive but is actually kinda a sweetheart in this.

notes: ok so small thing: i kinda put my own twist to this request, because this sort of idea has lived in my head RENT FREE since forevvaaa. hope u enjoy it :)

masterlist

Dragonstone was quiet when arrived, the sea tide calm and peaceful.

Aemond Targaryen could not remember the last time he stepped foot in the castle, if he ever did at all, having spent the entirety of his life behind the bronze doors of the Red Keep. He did not care for the damned island, nor did he hold any love for its people, but his twentieth nameday was fast approaching, and his mother was insisting more and more that he take a wife soon.

“Now, where will you be,” he mumbles to himself as he rips off his riding gloves and tucks them into his belt.

The castle hallways were without light, and no houseguards stood afoot. Aemond smirks. It would be much easier for him to find you, tucked away in your own chamber.

Your personal chamber was nicely furnished, in the colors and style of your shared noble house, and had an aura belonging only to a Targaryen princess. Thick wool carpets covered the floor instead of harsh black stone, and your windows were cracked open just a little, with pretty drapes swaying from the light ocean breeze. The walls were hung with different tapestries, all of horses and dragons, and the doors were flanked by Valyrian sphinxes.

And to the corner was your bed, where you, his niece, lay atop, fast asleep.

Aemond wills his heart to continue beating, and for his cock to behave.

He has not laid eyes on you in almost a full decade, ten years too long for him. Both your parents whisked you away to Dragonstone when you were still a child, soft-faced and in the mid of girlhood.

They refused his mother’s offer for a betrothal between the two of you, and broke his heart to the tiniest of pieces that he wondered if they were still scattered around the Keep. But that was so many moons ago, and time slipped by him.

“Gods be good,” Aemond whispers, moving closer.

What has happened to that little girl, that kid niece of his? In her place sleeps a living goddess, too lovely for mankind. You’ve grown beautiful, a mirror image to your mother, his eldest sister. He bends to kiss your bare shoulder- just a simple and tiny kiss- and you stir in your sleep. It is cute, he admits, but he also can not wait another second longer.

Only the gods above know how much he’s wanted you.

With a hard yank, Aemond draws back the bedsheet covers, causing you to jolt up from the bed. You look around, confused and scared and still half-asleep, purple eyes clouding from drowsiness. In front of you sits a stranger, a man- silver-haired and cloaked in black riding leather. Across his eye, an eyepatch.

Your heart quickens at the sight. “Aemond…?” you call out, unsure.

He smiles, teeth and all. “You do not know how happy it makes me to know you are still able to recognize me, my niece. After all, it has been awhile- ten years, has it not?”

You shrug, trying to wipe the sleep away from your eyes. “What…what are you doing here?” you ask, while patting down the bed, looking for the sheets to cover your chest. “Should you not be at King’s Landing? Why are you here?” Your eyes grow as wide as a dinner plate as you soon add, “Oh no, has something happened? Is it my grandfather?”

But Aemond scoots closer, bringing his face to yours. “Do not fret, nice. I’m here on my own wishes,” and he twirls a thin strand of silver hair around his finger, humming as he watches it fall back around your shoulder. In that sheer Dornish nightgown, you look good enough to eat, and the princeling is feeling beyond ravenous.

“I’m here to collect a debt.”

Lucerys…you think, a sinking feeling in your chest. His stolen eye, that night on Driftmark…

Ten years and Aemond still seeks revenge.

“No,” Aemond says, shaking his head. He moves even closer, grabbing at your shoulders. His palms are rough and callous. “I would dare not hurt you. Anyone but you. You…” he sighs, “-you were promised to me, back when we were children. You were meant to be my wife, and they stole you from me. The only good fucking thing in my life, and it was taken away…”

He studies you, his eye running across your face, down your neck and to your chest.

That Dornish nightgown clings loose to your body, and he can see your nipples perk against the fabric. It sends blood rushing between his thighs. “Tell me, niece, what did I do to deserve that?”

“Aemond…”

“No!” he hisses, tightening his grip on you. “No! You have not the slightest idea of the fucking torture I’ve endured these years. The nights I stayed up, begging to the gods that I might have you. I thought…maybe if they heard my pleas, saw my faith, they would…but no. Ten years, and not a single glimpse of you.” Your breath hitches when he meets your gaze, “I dreamt of you, every damned night. Fought the urges to fly over and collect you from here…”

You shake your head. “Aemond…” you say, softly. “I’m betrothed to another, this cannot be.” You press your hand against his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch, and kiss his forehead. “I have missed you greatly, uncle, but it has been years! So many years. I’m to be married soon.” You pull back, “It is best if you return home, and start finding a lady of your own choosing.”

Aemond sighs, and inside his chest, he feels his heart being ripped apart again.

“You are right, my dearest niece. My sincerest apologies for waking you up, it was quite wrong of me. I shall see myself out,” and he kisses your hand, brushing his lips against your knuckles. “I wish you all the luck in your marriage, and may your husband love and appreciate you till the dying days of his damned life.”

You smile at him, though a bit sad now. “Thank you, uncle. To you as well.”

The princeling turns to leave, and you sit up watching as he makes his way to your door, before sinking back into your bed. “Goodbye, Aemond,” you call out, one final time before your eyes close, failing to see him pause and turn around to look at you.

What was he doing? Foolish man, he thinks. Foolish, stupid man!

Was it in his nature to admit defeat so easily, and to some unnamed wastrel cunt of a man? No. Throughout his life, Aemond suffered nothing but tremendous losses, while being denied the goodness and fairness that a child should’ve had. His lips pucker at the thought.

You were right there, close enough for him to finally claim.

And so he did.

“Shhh, keep your voice down,” Aemond tuts next to your ear, a heavy arm slung over your naked breasts as he holds you as close to his chest as possible. It feels as if he is frightened to let you go, worried you would disappear before his very eye, with another ten years slipping by until he finds you again.

His other hand lies between your trembling thighs, fingering you with such an intensity and speed that it leaves you utterly ruined and in tears. “Aemond…” you hiccup, nibbling at your bottom lip as he groans. “Fuck! You sound so good when you say my name like that. Gods be good, you are wet. Absolutely soaking my fingers. Doesn’t this feel good?” he asks, using his thumb to rub at your clit. “Yeah…it does, doesn’t it?”

You sniffle, fat tears streaking down both cheeks as you nod.

Oh, it feels good. So good, but so wrong as well.

You were to be married in less than a fortnight, to a highborn lord of House Stark, handsome and kind. How would you explain this to him? Or to your parents, who proposed the marriage between you two? How would you tell them that you were ruined? And it was your uncle’s fault.

“Please, Aemond…”

Aemond grabs at your jaw, cradling it in his hand before pulling it close to his face. “Shhh, it will be alright, my love. Do not fret. You will be okay, just give in,” he whispers, quickening his fingers as he fucks them into you, curling two to hit your sweet spot. You almost scream, so overcome with pleasure that it hurts. “This is where you are meant to be, darling, make no mistake in believing that. My bride, my love.”

My woman, he thinks gleefully, watching how your face scrunches up. Your eyebrows furrow and your mouth press together in a tight line, and it is the most beautiful sight.

My woman, made for me. Made for my love and protection and seed…

Goosebumps prickle along your arms as wet sounds echo across the chamber, followed by a strew of whimpers and moans. It sounds so dirty, so sinful and wrong that you pray to whichever god was listening in that no one would overhear such, especially your parents and siblings. Your father would have Aemond’s head, no doubt, and your older brother might rob him of his only other good eye.

“Oh, fuck…” you moan, flinging your head back, “-don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

A minute or so later, your vision blackens, the room spins, and your jaw slacks as you cum plenty around his fingers, all with such a high-pitched shriek that Aemond slaps a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise. “What did I say? Stay quiet!” he hisses before chuckling, smearing the mess around your folds while you make an attempt to catch your breath. “Very good, my love. You did so well for me.”

He brings a finger to his mouth, to suck at the taste. “Your taste is heavenly,” he moans, swirling his tongue around it. He then brings two to your mouth, swiping at the tiny bit of drool pooling before stuffing them in. “Suck. Taste yourself now.”

“Dirty girl,” Aemond hums, a smirk curving on his lips as he watches the way you lick and suck at his fingers. “You are digging a grave too deep to escape, darling.”

Ruin me, you want to say. If I’m to die, I rather it be in your hands than anyone else’s…

He lays you back down on the bed next, making sure your head rests comfortably against the pillows. Ten years, Aemond reminds himself. Ten fucking years. He can feel his resolve slowly weakening by the second. You’re too beautiful, too soft and womanly and perfect for him. Every fantasy he dreamt up during boyhood never claim as close as to this. “I dreamt of this for fucking years,” he admits while kissing your pink and pouty lips. “All the possible ways to take you, to fuck this pretty cunt of yours.”

Your legs wrap around his hips as he pushes his cock inside you. It is painful- undeniably painful- yet he swallows every cry and wince and moan that you give. Your fingernails dig into his skin from the terrible pain- the stretch and the sting and the weird feeling growing deep within your tummy.

“It is too much…!” you whimper against his lips. “Hurts!”

“Of course it hurts, darling, it is your first time. Every woman hurts when a man takes her first blood. But you can take it.”

“No,” you whine, trying to shove him away. “No, Aemond, it hurts too much-” But Aemond only kisses your temple, sweet and gentle and lovingly, while rocking his hips against yours. “It’ll feel so good soon, my love, trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you, not my precious and sweet girl,” he coos, leaning to rub your noses together, “-my brave girl.”

Ten years.

He could not stop, even if he wished to. No, not now that he finally has you, underneath his body and wet and ripe for his seed.

“I’ll give you our child,” he mutters beside your lips as he pinches your nipple between two fingers and keeps his thrusts hard, deep, and fast. All of it makes your face twist in a soft gasp, your body tightening as you feel that thick rush of pleasure from before, right before you creamed over his fingers.

“Take my seed and have our child. I promise to take you back to King’s Landing and marry you," he vows through ragged breaths, "and spend the rest of our lives making up for those ten years.”

“Aemond,” you pant, clutching onto his shoulders and dragging his face down for a kiss. His skin is sweaty and flushed, and he has never appeared so beautiful before. You love him. You love him so much, how did you spend ten years without seeing him? It makes no sense. You understand his woes now, clear as day, and you want to rid of them forever.

“I love you! I love you, I love you, make me your wife, please. Please!”

He feels your cunt tightening around his cock, and he is ready to give you everything: his heart, his soul, and his seed.

Come the morning, his son will be swelling within your belly, and he will have you seated atop Vhagar, flying back to the Keep to make you his wife, in both the eyes of the gods and the laws of the land.

The next day, at dawning, Rhaenyra Targaryen’s only daughter does not join her family to break fast together. Her three half-brothers and two half-sisters raise eyebrows as they munch quietly on their meals but keep silent, all until little Joffrey asks where his older sister might be. Rhaenyra does not know, and neither do the houseguards, the men of the small council, and the maesters, and it worries her greatly.

Her husband, though, is quick to remind her that the princess- ever their trueborn child- enjoys morning rides on dragonback. “Give her a few hours and she will surely return with a new story to tell us,” Daemon says, while sipping on his wine.

But a few hours turn into the rest of the day, and soon evening creeps by.

A raven arrives from King’s Landing, bearing the family a note:

“I’ve taken what was owed to me. Such a pity you all forgot that what was mine is still mine, regardless of time.”

[unholywriters]

Golden Trap

Summary: Finding a place to run a way from the loud city is often harder then some would think. You could wonder into the woods for hours, far from the loud sound of cars blaring horns, people walking with their phones on speaker and them yelling into it, yelling into it so the other person could hear them in order for each other to hear, the constant beeping of machines being used for almost everything that never seemed to have stopped. With of course the pressure of having to fit in, which can bring someone to their breaking pint and there’s no going back from that kind of pressure. But when your boss is a large figure in the fashion world for what seemed like years, it's hard to get away. But why does it seem like he holds a dark secret that no one can seem to remember? Who stays in the castle that he once lived in and why does he want y/n despite fighting so hard with his own captain before getting here?

Tags: vampire Yunho, curious male reader, unprotected sex {wrap it up people its okay to have safe sex}, classic Yunho, modern reader, non-idol AU, vampire AU

Genre: Smut, minors do not interact with

Word Count: 12.7k

Authors note: I'm sorry these fics are taking longer to come out then I'd hope so. Working two jobs is not for the weak along with a family planning a trip for a week but I will keep trying to crank them out, even on the trip unless I can find a way to get out of it. I'm sorry if this felt rushed or not as detailed as some of the others, mainly tigers prey but I do hope everyone enjoys it and it comes out like I imagined it. Please enjoy

“Come on Yunho, you’ve been in this castle for decades! The least you could do was upgrade some of the rooms that we use.” Someone said, overall happy to see his old friend once again after a long day of work and crunching numbers from his office. Running his fingers through his long silky black hair. His dark brown eyes scanning the room of his old home, letting the memories flow through his mind before his eyes landed on his friend. Sir Jeong Yunho, who was holding an old yet prestige tea tray with a silver tea pot and the matching cups. His outfit, some would classify it as the medieval times. Just a nice clean white buttoned up shirt with a black leather vest with the exception of some black dress pants that were gifted to him by another friend of his when they were slowly coming into style. His skin looked like caramel, giving a missed contrast from his dark brown eyes, slowly changing to red while he fixed his long black hair. On his hands were some finger rings, though one of them was sharp enough to leave a deep scratch onto anything and anyone, if it were a living person it would be bleeding some. This was on his left hand, the right hand had on a black glove. Yunho was happy to see his friend, who was dressed in a classic black and white suit while taking off the jacket to also reveal his own white buttoned up shirt. Walking on the stone floor behind Yunho.

“Now now if I were to attempt to do that, the memories would start to fade away. I can’t let any of my old friends forget the times we had in this home of ours now could I, Wooyoung?” He asked, leading Yunho to a clean wooden table that was covered with a black cloth. The chair having a small pillow for comfort and the best view of the still lively garden outside with a view of the stream passing by. Setting down the tray and pouring the red liquid into the cup before setting it down. “I can’t say much, saying how Seonghwa was the last one to leave because he loved the interior. You still take care of everything before any of us come here.” “Speaking of, how is sir seonghwa?” He asked with a. Curious look on his face,w arching as his friend playfully rolled his eyes at the old name. Watching Yunho walk to one of the openings to bring out a small tray of sweet she had made just for times like this. “From what I’ve heard he’s doing well. Though he plans on coming over soon after me, you know seonghwa can’t leave this place for long.” Sarcastically saying, but Wooyoung knows that seonghwa is mainly worried for Yunho. Being left alone taking care of a home that had kept them safe for centuries at this point. Something the others won’t take away from him, but they do get worried for the male.

“Then it’s a good thing I have enough blood for everyone as always, right Wooyoung?” He asked, walking closer to the edge to grab another chair and get it set up close to the table Wooyoung was sitting. Where Wooyoung was simply just taking a. Couple of sips of the blood in front of him before it was clear that he was content with the drink he had. “You’re always prepared for whoever of us decide to come over and have a chat with you.” “It would be improper of me to not be prepared for whenever a guest were to come over.” Wooyoung playfully rolled his eyes as he watched the older male get a table prepared. Sitting there under the bright and welcoming moonlight before hearing the soft calls of others. But it surprised Yunho as he looked up from the balcony while Wooyoung just smiled. Seeing two small bats come into view before getting close to the balcony before turning back to their human form. Softly landing on the stone while the black and red smoke started to clear away and reveal the two humans. Both were bright red eyes but looking more relaxed and happy. One of them walking right to Yunho whist the smoke cleared. Revealing a male with long pink dyed hair that seemed to be bouncing with each and every step. Showing his Carmel tanned skin along with his bright smile with two sharp fangs. His white shirt combined with a black corset that was tied nicely in the back with his matching heels creating excited clicking sounds. With the black sleek pants almost seeming like they were gliding through the air as his arms opened for a hug. “Oh Yunho look at you! You look amazing!” He cheered, happy that Yunho embraced his hug in the same happy manner, even if he was surprised to have guest over like this, where he wasn’t prepared for it.

The other male was standing close to Wooyoung, he was much more shorter then the pink hair male. His hair was more short, it was combed back but curly, it wasn’t black but more of a hazel brown color. His pink plump lips had a lip ring on the bottom lip in the center of it. He smiled softly while pushing aside a part of the fur coat he was wanting, showing a loose black shirt, showing some of his chest while wearing tight black pants, with his black shoes pulling it all together. “Sir Seonghwa, sir hongjoong! Goodness me if I knew there would be more I would have more cups ready! But it is wonderful to see you as well.” Smiling as bright as he could, pulling away and allowing Seonghwa to fix his hair and mainly just take a nice long look at the male, feeling as though its been forever when in reality it’s only been a week. “Now now Yunho, it’s alright if you didn’t get to prepare anything. We just wanted to come and check on you is all. Last time we saw you, you looked a bit…amused by something.” Hongjoong said, walking over and embracing Yunho in a hug. Afterwards Yunho had bowed, almost kneeling but hongjoong stopped him. “Now Yunho, I may be your captain still, but I am no king.” “Old habits die hard, and mine have yet to die out sir hongjoong.” Hongjoong could only chuckle before getting Yunho to sit, knowing that Yunho wouldn’t have done so without the gesture. It was just the four of them happily sitting at the table.

“Now back to what hyung here said, you were actually amused by someone and I didn’t hear about this?” Wooyoung said, looking a bit hurt in a playful way. Looking at Hongjoong’s raised brow and Seonghwa’s curious look while yunho’s ears seemed to have started to turn red. “You see…Sir hongjoong had invited me to a party he was hosting for his business, well one of them. But I was running late when choosing what to wear before he had arrived and helped me get dressed. But before we left I saw a male walking through the woods. And I almost followed them out of the forest till sir hongjoong grabbed me and reminded me why I was dressed up to being with. But I couldn’t find the person once we left.” He answered, watching wooyoung's mouth go wide with a smile as seonghwa wiggled his eyebrows in a playful gesture. Watching hongjoong lean back in the chair with his legs opening some more, getting himself comfortable while the other two started to ask questions. “So someone who works under Hongjoong manage to capture your attention? My my classical Yunho with a modern day human? Could you imagine the conversations?” “Wooyoung, you like it when San makes you silent in public spaces. You can’t say anything related to something like this.” Seonghwa teased, watching Wooyoung cover his mouth to laugh about his own likings. Even if his lover is still a human, he can’t turn him without permission nor would he force his lover to do anything of the sorts, no matter how badly he was craving to do so. Meanwhile Yunho was still pretty flustered. Because it was the first time in a long time, more like decades since someone had captured his dead heart the way it was slowly beating in a way when even thinking about the male. But Yunho and his friends are no regular vampires who simply flirt and give the world. No, they were known as the black pirates for a reason.

They would stalk their chosen partners, almost as if they were being lured into a trap and their only saving grace was for their vampire lover to come to their dying rescue. But in a sick way, mainly why Wooyoung wasn’t ready to ask San, because this was something that would break the two of them, well mainly San sadly. Wooyoung would be prepared for something like this, of course making it up to San in the best ways he was taught how to but other then that, it was like watching a. Sick and twisted horror game come to life only †here was no quitting it and picking it up once again when you felt brave enough. And there was no winning. Which is why not a lot of vampires are created from this group, their ways are horrific, many vampires have even tried to degrade them for it, but they weren’t just simple vampires. If they wanted to be known for something then it would be this and there would be no stopping that no matter how hard someone would have tried to do so. Since Yunho had grown more under the wings and care of hongjoong, he knew just how brutal hongjoong could be when it came to his teachings about this. And he needed to be ready to give his own twist in order for the person he grew attached to understood just how much he didn’t want to do this. But it was going to be done one way or another, and he would not hold back. After all, every lover should give their all when showing the worst side of them, he can’t hide it forever and was trained to so something like this in order to show it. That’s better than not lying now isn’t it?

“Now to be fair, Yunho was raised under Hongjoong before I came into the picture, this male has to be resilient or they’ll crumble before the game can even start!” Seonghwa cheered, licking his fang while sharing a quick glance to hongjoong, who had an approved look in his eye with his head slightly tilted to the right. “So Yunho, am I right about who it is, or do we need to keep preparing for this little encounter of yours, hm?” He asked, slowly leaning forward with his arms resting on his knees, holding his hands together while all eyes turned to be on him.

“You’re right sir Hongjoong, it’s who you think it is.” All hongjoong could do was simply smirk.

----------*-------------

“Y/N, Hongjoong is calling for you in his office again!” Wooyoung cheered, rolling over in his chair to push his way over to his favorite coworker's desk, who seemed to look both interested and annoyed. Y/N is one of hongjoong's many offices workers who was known to be very efficient with their workload, whether it was doing paperwork or computer work with their designs, scheduling their events and parties to even just anything he needed help with a time crunch, so to hear that y/n was needed for something was a shocker. So, peaking in the corner from his computer, he looked at his excited coworker and best friend. “Did he tell you why I was needed or is this a surprise for something?” Y/n asked before sitting up, watching wooyoung stop and cross his legs with a shrug. “Said it was for another gathering he has plans, and we know that you come in great during the time crunch.”  

Y/N looked surprised and kind of used to this. After all, Hongjoong was a well-known person, who loved making his own clothes and didn’t mind making more with the world to see. Standing up, fixing his dress shirt and grabbing his planner and iPad to make sure he had everything. He waved to wooyoung as he walked over to the elevator and pressed the top floor. Hongjoong was also known for having these large lavish gatherings where he was also very picky and stern with his guest list. If you weren’t invited to his gatherings personally, you would not be let in. This was just a safety reason to make sure his gatherings were a safe and open place, and he would not let any drama ruin the vibe of it all, no matter how close they were. 

Y/N was someone he could count on for the arrangements, the two of them would work with seonghwa to make the place grand, which meant that this was going to be a long couple of days, if not an entire week before the place was perfect to hongjoong’s liking. From the location to the food and drinks, to the dress code, to the silver wear. Hongjoong was a perfectionist when it came to these sorts of things, and one mistake would nearly ruin the entire thing and he would start over from scratch till everything was ready. Walking down the dark hallway y/n opened the rich black doors with golden doorknobs. Twisting them and pushing one of them opened. Y/N was greeted by the time bright room, the far back wall was nothing more than just tinted windows to show the view of the city, along with some of the trees in the back. The floors were installed with a midnight black carpet with the walls being painted black with some painting of some random things. Some being of fruit and some even being pictures of him on his trips and designs.  

His desk was in front of the window wall, it was an old antique desk with drawers on both sides, with plenty of room for drawers to be used and kept with storage. Ow of course, hongjoong wasn’t wearing the outfit he wore last night, and neither was his right-hand man. He had changed into a basic black and white suit with only one sliver necklace on, while seonghwa had worn a royal blue suit, which contrasted to his pink hair, but it was something he loved to show off when he got the chance to do so. The two had looked up from hongjoong’s iPad with ideas and hongjoong smiled before slowly standing up, “There’s my little magic worker, just in time to.” “God morning Sir, Mr. Park.” Y/N said, bowing down from their waist, after all it was disrespectful to only bow from the neck, especially to your seniors.  

“I know this is short notice given that I just had a party in the last two weeks. But this one is more of a... private one for those closer to me. There's a lot that we can work with here since they aren’t picky, which gives the two of you more freedom to work with here, making it feel like a relaxing place.” Hongjoong started as he watched y/n walk closer to his desk in order to get a better understanding of what he was asking for. Along with seonghwa having some pictures pulled up of the place they were thinking about, a place here almost no one would hear them, which made y/n curious of the matter of what they were looking at here. “I went walking around in the woods and found this place, it’s still running and there’s a caretaker there, he’s willing to help us, if we choose to see this place. I could take you while hongjoong stays here and maybe can get some more ideas on what he’s looking for exactly?” Seonghwa suggested showing off the pictures to a curious y/n.  

The place seemed to be surrounded by red roses on the outside with a little circle way with a working three-layer water fountain. The outside seemed to be covered in vines, but it was giving off a more relaxed with a more subtle look. “I’m surprised that Mr. Kim was interested in a place like this, but it’s away from the city and you’d be able to enjoy yourself. I don’t mind coming with to see.” Seonghwa brightly smiled before setting the iPad down on desk before the two of them bowed to hongjoong. “Don’t take too long seonghwa, make sure that you’re talking with the keeper to see what we can do. The place is beautiful and I don’t want to break anything or change it.” Staring at the two, he watched y/n walk out of the office first before soenghwa had turned to look at him at the gap of the door. 

Staring at hongjoong's eyes as a smirk slowly appeared on his face as his eyes flashed from their dark brown to the bright red color before leaning back in his chair. Watching Seonghwa's eyes do the same before the door slowly closed as he looked a the picture on his desk. It was only of him and seonghwa with Yunho in the back while seonghwa was holding wooyoung, who was passed out in his arms with blood on his neck and two small holes. He knew this picture was going to be updated, but he needed to make sure wooyoung knew what to do before he would chase someone bigger than him. But with Yunho, he needed to push him. So, he slowly turned in his chair and walked over to the window, where he could see the castle standing in the woods. “My little golden retriever, don’t let me down with this one.” 

 ----------*-------------

Walking through the woods, y/n was close to seonghwa who seemed to walk in these woods a lot, not nearly tripping over anything since the way to get here was still blocked off by fallen tree logs. Seonghwa was slowly scanning the area to make sure Yunho wasn’t there, or really anyone for that matter that would throw off everything that was planned. Unless it was needed. “Mr. Park, do you often come walking here a lot? You seemed to have this way memorized like nothing.” y/n pointed out, watching seonghwa turn his head to look back at them, trying to hide his shy smile while his eyes stayed their dark brown color. “I won’t lie, I do tend to walk in the woods close to my home. Here, let me help you.” He offered, holding his hand out as the two kept walking within the woods. It was a fun little adventure before they arrived at the old castle.  

Where Yunho was trimming the flowers while clearing one of the small pathways before turning his head to look at y/n first, he could feel his ow dead heart slightly starting to beat before bowing to the pair. Taking off the dirt gloves and walking over. “Ah you two must be whom Mr. Kim mentioned over the phone? I’m Yunho, the caretaker of Castle of the Night, or it was also known as dead walkers den. But that’s a myth since no one had ever seen the rulers walk out during the day.” “You must know everything about this place with an introduction like this now Mr. Yunho?” Y/N questioned, seeing how Yunho was even dressed for the occasion while seonghwa watched the two. Seeing how Yunho was giving y/n all his attention and seemed to even glow just a little while listening to every word as if a storyteller was beginning the first part of a story and he was the listener, there to sit and listen. “My family was tasked with caring for the castle when it was built, even when it was no longer in use, we still care for it just in case for events like this. I was told it was for a private gathering, yes?” He questioned, keeping his hands held in front of his torso while seonghwa crossed his arms. 

“Ah yes, he sent me and Mr. Park to come by and get a better look at the place to see what is allowed to be brought in and where.” “Then let’s head inside and I’ll answer any questions, though do be warned. I do not know much about technology.” Seonghwa stayed outside and watched the two walk inside the doors, he ended up looking around some, the memories of when he was first brought here flooding back as if he were reliving that day all over again. It was in the 1910s that he found himself running around in the so-called cursed woods. Where very few came back alive and those who did couldn’t remember what happened or what they saw. Only to die a week later if they were lucky to make it that long. Seonghwa ran in here to escape an arranged marriage that he was almost forced into instead of going to school to run away. But it was here that he met hongjoong, he was kneeled drinking the blood from someone who tried to break a stone off his home. When the two met eyes, hongjoong's jaw was covered in the red liquid with his eyes glowing a dark red while his licked his lips, letting the body fall to the ground before standing up. 

Seonghwa was about to run for it, trying to get away before he was soon to be killed but it never happened. Before he could even move hongjoong was in front of him and held the older man's jaw with his head tilted to the side. “Now now, little bunny, weren’t you taught to never walk into the woods at night by yourself? You could get hurt...or worse.” He teased, feeling seonghwa shake in his hands, but hongjoong didn’t kill him that day. No, he wanted to toy with him. So, he asked seonghwa why he ran into the forest and stumbled here, where Yunho was inside still sleeping after being bitten and turned. So he offered seonghwa a deal, he stays in the castle and takes care of the place with Yunho, and if hongjoong likes it, seonghwa will live as is. And seonghwa took it, seeing how there was no going back home. But one day, hongjoong chased seonghwa threw the forest to get his blood bumping faster along with his heart. Hongjoong's favorite way to turn people, which is something he's rarely done. So when it came to Seonghwa and Yunho, it was clear that these two were very special and very important to him.  

Rubbing the left side of his neck where he can faintly feel the bite marks still. He remembers hongjoong whispering in his ear before he was painfully bit and could feel his life slipping from his hands, but he remembered waking up in a dark room. Where there was a a tub full of water, confused he had walked over and saw his reflection in the water. His long black hair had changed somehow, it was pink, and his eyes were the same dark red as hongjoong. Something that he was confused about before seeing the dried-up blood on his neck and the two holes. He was going to wash it off before he heard the door open and saw him. Hongjoong still had that same black coat he wears today with his hands being held behind his back and he got closer to the shaken elder. “I never knew the changing process could change your hair, then again, Pink does look good on you.” he answered, watching seonghwa try to back away and create more distant between the two which made him only chuckle at the gesture. “Now now, little bunny relaxes. You still have many things to learn about, after all my husband needs to know how to hunt.” (might make a series explaining this) 

“Wait so you know everything about this place? What else do you know?” Y/N asked, still walking beside Yunho, who was carrying a tray with some freshly made teacups as the two walked around one of the main halls that would also take them to the large garden, along with the stream. “They say that the old occupations of the home gave birth to the vampire legend. Do you have an interest in something like this?” He asked, leading y/n to a table and a comfortable chair in the garden to give a view of some of the flower patches and the calm streaming lake. Yunho had served y/n with different color macaroons and a green matcha tea while carrying his famous napkin that was carefully handwashed daily. “Who doesn’t like vampires? Their interest, some can walk in the sun like nothing can harm them, others find it harder to do so without getting hurt. Some spell their vampiric name differently; some hunt for fun, some don’t and some just live peacefully. Though I never got to hear about anything like this before from this place.” Yunho smirked some, pulling up a chair and sitting down, glancing at the water and back over to y/n, giving them his full attention since this was one of his favorite stories to tell. 

“They say the main one, or the captain as he was called, was a kind and adoring leader to his subjects, he could bring anyone to his side with his passion and he was strong. But one day when he was walking through the woods, he was assassinated by the kingdom of the shadows, a longtime rival that the captain had tried his hardest to be friends with them. But this did something to him, they say at night they could hear his pained screams when this happened, and when his second in command went to check, the body wasn’t there but there was a pool of fresh blood. Walking further they found him tearing apart the team of assassins that killed him. He turned from a kind leader to a ruthless killer, which was understandable given how hard he worked. As for the person, they say he came back and said the king was dead since no one would've believed him if he told the people what truly happened. He kept the blood thirsty king in the tower that’s still sealed off, even for events such as this, for safety reasons since he would’ve killed anyone. The second in command was turned after a war, where the people were killed sadly, and their bodies were brunt. When the shadow prince had tried to sit on the throne, in the morning his body being slaughtered, and his body was drained of blood.”  

He watched how nervous y/n seemed to get while telling this story in a calm yet creepy manner. Something that would play into the fear and Yunho could smell it, but he had to stay still. After all, if he started it too soon then everything would be ruined. He needed to wait, even if he could feel his throat tightening, so he just drank his own cup of tea to keep himself calm and sane. “Was he...ever caught?” “Oh, he was after a couple of years, they say he was chained somewhere here with the stunned body of his second in command next to him in a bricked-up cave. He can’t ever get out, from what I know of.” Standing up and walking over, titling his head slightly to the right and kept a soft and welcoming smile. “Don’t be sacred, the cave is far and the last person that went said he died from not having any blood to drink for years. Now that we have your party things ready, I’ll set up everything when I get the chance to. You’re free to come by whenever you wish to, there are just no cars. There are too many fallen trees and anything big would destroy the area. Just take the path. Now let’s go find your friend.”  

The party decorations would be centered around, like a mascaraed ball, with things set up like fountains that would have certain choices of drinks. From water, to wine, to champagne, to even some juice just as a another option. There would be a large arrangement of sweets, some cake, cupcakes, maroons, sweet cakes, brownies, and cookies. With the two choices for dinner being steak with mash potatoes it sweet potatoes fries. Another being salmon fried vegetables with potatoes as well. Hongjoong was a very classy person when it came to these things. Everything had to be perfect and there was no room for area. The dress code was a little strange from what y/n was used to. If someone were to go with a partner, one had to wear black and the other had to wear white. It didn’t matter how it looked, the two had to have some form of black and white to match with each other, and the little get together would be on a Saturday near 10pm, since everyone would be busy and that’s when traffic would start to die down.  

Yunho had asked y/n if they didn’t find someone in time, if he could be his partner for it. Since he wouldn’t have to take care of anything till later in the night and he was perfectly fine with that. Y/n had agreed to it and the two were walking around to find seonghwa, who was still walking around the front of the property but there was something else that confused the pair. Seonghwa seemed to be talking to someone with a concerned tone. “Mr. Park? What’s going on here?” Y/N asked, watching seonghwa turn around with a worried look on his face before holding the younger male's shoulder. “I’m not sure, I was just looking around at the place and thinking where a great place was to have signs to bring everyone else and saw this man, he looked lost but not harmed. I think his name is yeosang?” The quiet male nodded his head, Yunho looked at the male and was trying to hide an excited smile.  

“What should we do? Could we take him back?” “I can take care of him. I have plenty of first aid supplies and can take care of him till someone comes by. You two are on a time crunch I’d imagine and need to submit this to Mr. Kim.” Yunho offered, ushering the male to his side and watched as he stumbled over, looking somewhat dizzy but also very stable to walk over. It was hot outside and maybe Yeosang needed something to drink, which is what Yunho had and knew that if they were to rush to the city, Yeosang might not be the best choice. Y/n watched the male trying to see what all was wrong, and even with his neck covered, he could see that there were two dark spots on the top of his neck but thought it was just a mole. “Oh wait!” Y/N said, grabbing a piece of paper and scribbling down a number and handing it to Yunho, who was turning his head to face them and held the paper. “It’s my personal number, you can call to ask me about anything regarding the banquet and also if this man needs anything.” Yunho held the paper and nodded his head, carefully placing it in his shirt pocket before bowing to the pair and helping yeosang inside to the large heavy wooden doors.  

“How did you like the place so far Y/N? It seems peaceful and away from the busy and loud city noises.” Seonghwa said as the two walked back to the black business car. Where a driver stepped out of the car to open the door as he waited for the two as they slowly walked closer. “It’s a nice choice for hongjoong to pick for the banquet. I take it you will be there as well Mr. Park? You seem very close to Mr. Kim. Are you two dating? He always seems to be looking for you before doing anything else in the office.” Curiosity got the best of y/n as the two of them sat in the car. Putting seatbelts on and letting the driver start their drive back to the company building.  

“I met him when I was just starting my own fashion career. He asked me to do a deal with him and sometime after that, he asked me out when he took me on a gala he was invited to and managed to get a plus one.” Seonghwa answered, watching y/n’s smile grow while learning. “No, you can’t tell anyone else this, he hates people prying on his private life and you know that.” “Oh, I know, don’t worry.” y/n said, knowing damn well they were going to tell wooyoung when they got back and were getting ready to go home to make sure they had plenty of time to get prepared for everything when it came to little ball. Meanwhile yeosang was wide awake, holding his head while he could feel the dirt partials still in his hair while Yunho was dusting off his back, trying to be gentle as possible since yeosang had been asleep for a very long time, and buried with only just enough space to crawl out with his hands. Barely remembering anything at first and slowly trying to come back. 

“Don’t move too much, waking up after a years long sleep like you have is very scary. Take the drink. It will help you feel stronger.” Carefully watching yeosang drink the cup, letting blood drip down from the corners of his mouth till the cup was empty. He let it go with quicken pants as his eyes started to glow red. Feeling like he had just finally tasted fresh cold water while Yunho stepped back and watched how the dirt started to fall from his hair before his thin body started to look more healthy. Yeosang had turned his head to look at Yunho, who had a smile on his face before walking back over with his napkin. “Now then, we have work to do and not a lot of time to teach you before captain comes back, he’ll be thrilled to see that you’re awake along with your old friend, wooyoung.” 

----------*-------------

“Hello? Oh Hey Yunho, oh no I was on my way over there I had to get a driver then I’m walking. I wanted to surprise you with a visit but didn’t want to scare you. I’ll be fast!” Y/N cheered, walking into the woods with their bag in hand, it was mainly their work bag with more pictures of outfits for the pair to try. Since y/n had agreed to be Yunho’s partner two days ago since it was getting close to the date and the two needed to have their outfits and how the colors would fall and match along with just the style of them.  Remembering the trail y/n started to walk to the castle, softly humming and looking around but soon stopped at the sound of a twig snapping close by. It was strange, even though there were some animals around here, they would’ve kept walking around like nothing happened. But this sound stopped before slowly picking back up. 

“Y/N? You look like you just saw a ghost, are you alright?” Yunho asked, peaking from around the end of the pathway and seemed to look confused as he watched them slightly walk faster to him. He kept his hands behind his back as he watched before letting their eyes seem to lock in place and stand closer to each other. “Thought I heard a twig snap before I got here, but I’m sure it’s just an animal.” They said with a shrug, watching Yunho look around before giving a slight nod. “Since it’s winter, most animals are starting to leave or find more food for hibernation. Now come, come I’m curious to see what you have.” He ushered, holding his hand out and placed it on their lower back as they walked up the stairs and back inside. The place was slowly getting placed together with most of the rooms being locked off to the public. The garden’s flowers were still in bloom and the lake seemed to be getting faster as the days went on. The lights in the main ballroom were being cleaned and maintained for the time to come along with the black and white streamers being hung on the walls.  

Pulling out the iPad out of the black work bag and showed some of the designs hongjoong said the two could pick from, since he would have plenty of them and could give them over in such a short notice given with how time was slowly falling into place. One of the designs was two suits, the shoulders were covered in red rubies that would sway from side to side with each step. The second one was somewhat the same concept, but one of the suits had a wrap around black skirt that was an optinal choice to have attached with the other suit having a cape trailing behind. Something Y/N liked the most but wanted to ahve Yunho’s opnion on the matter, since the two of them would be going together for something like this and it was only fair to have both sides agree to something. It wwas somehting different for Yunho to see, sure he had seen hongjoong make things like this before, and often wear his own designs with the biggest grin on his face knowing how some people would act but it never onced stopped him and now he thrives on it. 

“There’s more that you can look through, but this one is my favorite, we can add anything to them without worry, well at least to some degree.” Yunho had slightly tilted his head to the side before looking over to Y/N, his hands were tucked behind his back while his eyes were filled with curiosity. “Well Y/N, your choice is beautiful, but I am curious, what more could you add to an outfit that would look perfect on you as is, hm?” He had a grin on his face while watching them swipe passed some of the other design Choices before showing their one. For Yunho’s suit on the shoulders there were a couple of red rubies here and there, but with some trickling down to the front of the jacket on each side. With the skirt on the other suit have some of the same ones on the bottom ruffles along with a black collar with a red ruby in the center. It was something small, but it would contract with black and white. Y/N did like to add their own little flare to their outfits, so they just felt like themselves. Something they managed to pull off and could walk around happy as could be. 

“I was thinking something like this? If not, I understand-” “This is beautiful to look at. You did amazing with this y/n. Never doubt that.” Being as truthful and Sencere as he could, he watched y/n’s face light up in a way that made him smile at the reaction. It was like watching someone fall in love for the first time, that certain glow that they were getting, how their smile seemed to get more meaningful and truer whenever that person was around or even just speaking about them would turn their entire bad mood into a good thing just because of feelings. Even yeosang, who had walked in the room to ask Yunho a question could see that look in his face, mainly his eyes. “I’ll send them to Mr. Kim to see what he can do, I’m glad you like them. Oh before I forget, how was yeosang when we were last were here?” Asking with a tilt of their head, Yunho turned his head over to look at yeosang. Letting Y/N repeat the same action while yeosang stood there slightly cornered while holding a broom in his hands. He looked in better shape, he wasn’t as dirty or disheveled like he was before and almost looked like an entirely new person. But he did maintain a small smile on his face, mainly it was because he was nervous. He was told about what the others were planning thanks to a very excited wooyoung, who was beyond joyous to have his friend back after years of not seeing him. 

He knew he couldn’t male Y/N worry or question about much, and with the calm yet terrifying look Yunho was giving him while Y/N wasn’t paying attention was all he needed to know before trying to say anything. “Oh...I’ve been good. Just helping Yunho-Hyung out for everything, he’s shown me around and made sure I don’t overwork myself. I just wanted to ask where the inside broom goes.” “The door between your room and mine. No need to be nervous.” Yunho was able to keep his voice calm and tamed when it came to having to keep someone under their thumb while a guest was nearby. Keeping everything the same expect the stare, which is something people would feel instantly when talking or even having to deal with a slightly annoyed Yunho. 

Yeosang  softly bowed and walked down the hall to the broom closet while Yunho turned his attention back to Y/N, looking down at them with a smile on his face that never seemed to leave his face. “The party happens tomorrow night correct? Or am I getting very excited to see you here in your outfit?” He teased, watching Y/N’s smile grow and their face light up. “You have three more days Yunho, don’t get so excited or you won’t be able to sleep for a while. Can’t have my date falling asleep on me when it comes time for the party to start now can I?” There was something inside of Yunho when he heard that roll off their tongue out to the world. Something for his ears to only hear while he stood there smiling, knowing that Y/N would have to leave soon. But he was happy to hear about it, he wanted to hear it more. He wanted to grab them and show them things only movies would be able to show them. 

----------*-------------

“Oh don’t worry Y/N. I will get enough sleep before the big enough.” He said with a smile, watching Y/N bow since they still had to hurry and tell hongjoong what they wanted for the outfits. While Yunho stood there on the stairway with a smirk on his face. By that time the woods would be closed off and there’s no help for a good 20 minutes given how tucked in the place is with all the woods being in a tangled mess. The Food would be the start of the game with Yeosang being the one who gets to explain the rules of it since he has yet to find the one who bit him, who was coming over for this but that wouldn’t take a while. Yeosang stood by the door with a nervous look on his face as he watched Y/N disappear. He wanted to tell her to run, to get out of here and move away from hongjoong and his friends before it’s too late, but it already is. 

----------*-------------

Y/N woke up with a headache and blood slightly dripping from the left side of their head. Looking down at their outfit to see some ripped pieces here and there. It was the night of the party and Y/N had walked inside with Yunho and got to see the others and what they were thinking of when it came to this with their own outfits and creativity. Hongjoong stood out the most, wearing his infamous fur coat with a sliver chain necklace with a white shirt loose shirt underneath with black tight jeans and black platforms. His hands were almost covered in rings while he greeted everyone and lead them to the ballroom. Where everyone was able to dance and have their own drinks and food to eat and enjoy and the flower garden was opened to all. At some point Y/N had walked back there to go and look at the flowers along with getting closer to the stream with a smile on their face. But before they could go back, yeosang had silently ran up to them and tried to get him to run. To tell Y/N to get out of the house and to run away as far and as fast as he can while looking behind him to make sure no one was behind him, listneing in if they could.  

At first Y/N was confused, thinking that Yeosang had nightmare and just needed sometime to get it out. But Then Yunho was walking over, his eyes were still brown but they almost looked lighter then normal, even in the dark of the shadows his eyes still looked bright as he walked over. Yeosang went stiff and gulped just a little as Yunho joined the pair. “Their about to have a toast,  but we can’t do that without the two friends here now can we, Yeosang?” The name almost came out like acid to Yeosang’s ears. Remembering what happened last time he tried to warn Wooyoung that he needed to run, but he failed and it seemed that Wooyoung was thriving in this kind of life not wanting to have it any other out. But with defeat and fear in his eyes he looked at the ground while Yunho and Y/N were happily talking about the events inside before Yeosang arm was grabbed by Wooyoung. Who had a bright on his face but that spark in his eyes, something that Yeosang knew he had to go with him while they walked around to the side of the table across from Yunho while Hongjoong started his toast. Keeping Seonghwa close while he tried to not look either excited or scared. 

“I want to dedicate this toast to all of you. You’re more than just coworkers to me, all of you are important to me and I can’t wait to spend more years with all of you. Even if we fall out of touch with it all, and yet all still come to this old place we manage to call home with Yunho and now Yeosang taking care of it to ensure we can stay here and have a place far away from the loud city. Here we make memories, good and bad, for better or for worse. And we welcome Y/N to the family and give Yeosang a warm welcome to it. So, drink up and let’s celebrate our new beginning.” He raised his dark wine and watched everyone take their sips with their friends. No one set down their glass but Y/N, who seemed to look dizzy almost as he looked down at cup, seeing how it was almost gone but it tasted weird, it didn’t taste like wine. And when he managed to look around, he almost dropped his cup. 

Wooyoung had set down his empty cup with a smile on his face, showing off his bright red eyes and his two small fangs, though they were growing due to the drink he had while yeosang seemed to be trying to wipe the drink off, his eyes glowing red but he didn’t want to smile at the fact that he knew his fangs were growing but he didn’t want to show them off he didn’t feel safe enough to do so and just wanted to get out of here like he did last time. Seonghwa had looked over, licking his own fangs when he heard the cup falling on the ground and breaking, yet again. It wasn’t their own personal cup; it was just a cup they would buy so it could break and nothing else they had would shatter at the realization of what was happening. Y/N didn’t even want to turn up and look up at Yunho and had tried to run, but Yunho’s grip was tight as he set down the cup, which settled in some of the fabric being ripped in their attempted to get out of is grip before he was hit on the side of the head and was picked up by Seonghwa, knowing that now Yunho had to get ready to chase them down while this would result in Yeosang being punished for trying to scare away the new joiner. Which is why he and Wooyoung had to go and explain the games.  

“Now Yeosang, why would you try to scare away Yunho’s partner like that? You just woke back up from your 20-year nap. Wooyoung was hoping you two could still be friends.” Hongjoong teased, walking over and turning yeosang around. His eyes were red still, he was trying to remain calm but wooyoung had holding him from behind, basically keeping Yeosang there while Yunho was going into one of the spare rooms to take off the rich suit he was given and into a black shirt and pants, something that didn’t make noise and something that was loose and more comfortable enough to drink in. Yeosang had tried to keep eye contact with hongjoong while he could feel the dark and haunting gaze of the leader. But nothing was coming out of his mouth to give an answer. “I think you two will enjoy explaining things to Y/N while Yunho gets ready to run. After all, you know he needs his little chase to bring in his own fiancé. Besides, you remember how that felt when you first woke up. Don’t you little Doberman?” 

Now Y/N had woken up in a dark cave, in front of a large stone slab where rusty black chains were still hanging and broken while there looked to be dried up blood stains there. There were fire torches light and nailed to the stone walls. But Y/N would soon see Wooyoung confidently standing with a smirk on his face while Yeosang seemed to be trying to look away. Not wanting to have any part in this situation and just wanted to get out of here and forget that it had ever happened. Something he knew wasn’t going to happen no matter how hard he tried. Y/N looked a mixture of hurt and betrayed by this. Watching Wooyoung walk over and kneel, Y/N was somewhat chained down on the ground with his wrist tucked behind his back. “Wooyoung...what the fuck is going on!” 

Y/N yelled while trying to free their wrist. Trying to look at Yeosang, who was still looking away with his arms hugging himself while Wooyoung started to explain. “Well, a lot of things are going on. Take your pick on what you like to have explained to you.” He started to laugh, clearing his throat with a quick roll of his eyes. “Relax, I’m joking you have a lot to learn about. But it all starts with that same little story I know for a fact; Yunho told you about the lovely place that same prince still calls home.” He hummed while slowly standing up, clicking his tongue loudly and listened to Yeosang’s small footsteps get closer before standing close while holding a small book with the title Blood Thirst. Letting Yeosang keep it since he knew for a fact Y/N had read it before, since it was something Wooyoung saw them at the office with the book before. “Hongjoong, was the prince in this...little book you enjoy. And in that same little tale Yunho told you. After all he was chained down in that very spot watching Hongjoong from across him just losing his mind trying to eat or drink anything he possibly could in that matter. He would wake up hungry for days before one day, seonghwa stumbled right in here thinking the two of them had just died in here. Feeling bad about it he unlocked the chains and soon got chased by hongjoong, who was more than excited at the fact that he was able to run and chase his first live prey thinking he killed seonghwa at first. Till Seonghwa started to change. But of course they had to wake up and turn Yunho to join. After all he had been with captain that entire time, it took them 20 years to get out of there. And now, you get to be part of that! Whether you like it or not. Yunho picked you, out of everyone Hongjoong had let him meet before, he choose the amazing little y/n who was going to soon be chased by him in the same way all of us were chased. But he wanted to be the one to bite you and turn you, it would feel more...intimate for him." 

Y/N wanted to scream, this was a man they had saw as their friend, who was now standing in front him with blood drying on his chin explaining a sick game of cat and mouse and there was almost no way for the mouse to escape without nearly dying in the process. While Yeosang seemed to be hating this idea, there was nothing he was allowed to do but stand there. Looking down and severing out his punishment so maybe he wouldn’t have to be buried in his lonely coffin once more. “Now then, Yunho should be in position for me to let you go and try to run. If you get to the palace before him, you’ll have two options since at this point you know too much and letting you run away and move somewhere is out of the question. Captain doesn’t want or need anyone else to know about his family. You’ll either be forced to drink the captain's blood or Yunho’s and you’ll be locked in a coffin in their place of choice till you turn. Which can be minutes to years, it took yeosang almost 200 years to finally wake up. When you saw him that day, he just finally turned and let’s just say Yunho isn’t willing to wait that long. Yeosang, unlock them.”  

Yeosang had slowly walked over, kneeling to the damp ground and started to unlock the chains. Listening to Wooyoung push over the heavy rock door to show the outside. It almost seemed like the moon wasn’t even shining down on the ground despite it being a full moon. It was almost impossible to see anything but the sound of the chains falling was enough to break the silences before seeing wooyoung’s dark red eyes look down into Y/N’s eyes, smirking as he stood aside the door. “Better start running, he gets excited very easily when chasing.” Wooyoung watched Y/N stumble to get up and started to run. Not too fast to avoid falling from the twigs, bushes and who knows what else on this floor while trying to look around. Trying to see if there were any signs of light, thinking maybe they could run out from the sides and find a way. Or maybe even somewhere to hide without fail, maybe waiting this out to see if Yunho would return home to take care of the castle, leaving plenty of time for them to run back. 

They aren’t one to give up no matter who says, after all if they listened to any of that advice then they wouldn’t have gotten the job they always wanted and have their own expensive home. A wide range of closets or really anything of that matter and were slowly building their own permeant home with no one telling them no, or trying to take control of their own home and how it looks from the outside to the inside. Trying to run in these woods was almost like trying to move through Jello or even water. But also trying to remain silent in hopes of no one being able to hear their footsteps or the sounds of their breathing. Almost being able to get away, noticing the trees were opening and there seemed to be another home, the only place here was that damn castle. All Y/N had to do was cross that line, despite knowing the choice, but maybe this was also to the opened road, the hard part of this would be trying to run back to the city hopeing that no one there would be able to get them or chase them around and bring them back. Getting ready to take another step, two strong arms wrapped around their body and kept them off the air. Watching their feet kick around while the hand was wrapped around their head and pulling it to the side, reveling their neck while the other arm was wrapped around their waist to keep them in place. Despite Y/N’s attempts to kick free and rip the arms off. 

“Kicking just makes it more exciting.” Yunho whispered closely before licking the showing side of their neck. Listening to the muffled screams and cries, feeling the body shaking underneath him before he finally bites down with enough force to pierce skin and start to drink blood. Almost letting out something in return while feeling their body tense up. Slowly removing his hand just to hear that ear piercing scream of pain while hongjoong stood on the stairs watching as the hanging lights finally came back on. Showing the stunned and ruined state of y./N who was shaking in Yunho’s arms as he drank. Tears were falling from their left eye before they started to let out gasp for air. Which were then followed by groans and trying to scratch 

Y/N wanted to scream, this was a man they had saw as their friend, who was now standing in front him with blood drying on his chin explaining a sick game of cat and mouse and there was almost no way for the mouse to escape without nearly dying in the process. While Yeosang seemed to be hating this idea, there was nothing he was allowed to do but stand there. Looking down and severing out his punishment so maybe he wouldn’t have to be buried in his lonely coffin once more. “Now then, Yunho should be in position for me to let you go and try to run. If you get to the palace before him, you’ll have two options since at this point you know too much and letting you run away and move somewhere is out of the question. Captain doesn’t want or need anyone else to know about his family. You’ll either be forced to drink the captain's blood or Yunho’s and you’ll be locked in a coffin in their place of choice till you turn. Which can be minutes to years, it took yeosang almost 200 years to finally wake up. When you saw him that day, he just finally turned and let’s just say Yunho isn’t willing to wait that long. Yeosang, unlock them.”  

Yeosang had slowly walked over, kneeling to the damp ground and started to unlock the chains. Listening to Wooyoung push over the heavy rock door to show the outside. It almost seemed like the moon wasn’t even shining down on the ground despite it being a full moon. It was almost impossible to see anything but the sound of the chains falling was enough to break the silences before seeing wooyoung’s dark red eyes look down into Y/N’s eyes, smirking as he stood aside the door. “Better start running, he gets excited very easily when chasing.” Wooyoung watched Y/N stumble to get up and started to run. Not too fast to avoid falling from the twigs, bushes and who knows what else on this floor while trying to look around. Trying to see if there were any signs of light, thinking maybe they could run out from the sides and find a way. Or maybe even somewhere to hide without fail, maybe waiting this out to see if Yunho would return home to take care of the castle, leaving plenty of time for them to run back. 

They aren’t one to give up no matter who says, after all if they listened to any of that advice then they wouldn’t have gotten the job they always wanted and have their own expensive home. A wide range of closets or really anything of that matter and were slowly building their own permeant home with no one telling them no, or trying to take control of their own home and how it looks from the outside to the inside. Trying to run in these woods was almost like trying to move through Jello or even water. But also trying to remain silent in hopes of no one being able to hear their footsteps or the sounds of their breathing. Almost being able to get away, noticing the trees were opening and there seemed to be another home, the only place here was that damn castle. All Y/N had to do was cross that line, despite knowing the choice, but maybe this was also to the opened road, the hard part of this would be trying to run back to the city hopeing that no one there would be able to get them or chase them around and bring them back. Getting ready to take another step, two strong arms wrapped around their body and kept them off the air. Watching their feet kick around while the hand was wrapped around their head and pulling it to the side, reveling their neck while the other arm was wrapped around their waist to keep them in place. Despite Y/N’s attempts to kick free and rip the arms off. 

“Kicking just makes it more exciting.” Yunho whispered closely before licking the showing side of their neck.Watching Y/N continue to struggle and kick as hard as he could in order to finally break from Yunho’s grip, but this is a man who wears little finger armor, just enough pressure can cut anyones skin if he were to lace anything with it to his advatnage but in this case he was reayd to just use it for a tease. Leaning over and licking the side of their neck, hearing the squeak and ignoring the bleeding from his cut sleeve arm, he finally bit down into the place he wanted to. Making sure his grip was tight as he drank and kept them in place while his eyes remained closed before dropping Y/N as he leaned his head back and let out a relieved sigh while licking his lips before looking down to see them trying to roll around before looking up to show their eyes.

  

From their beautiful natural color to a dark blood red with two small baby fangs starting to show. The feeling felt like something was starting to rp the very blood from your body in every pore that was on your body. Everything was burning and stinging. Wanting to do nothing more than run away from the feeling but it was stuck staying there and feeling something change in you but there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Not even you. Everything was feeling way too light, bright, burning and too fast to grabble and understand before finally falling limp in Yunho’s arms. His lips and jaw were covered as he slowly pulled away and let out a Shakey and relaxed sigh. He looked over to the stairs, where Hongjoong was swirling a cup of drinks from easier with Seonghwa standing close next to him with his hands tucked behind his back. Wooyoung had dragged over Yeosang with a skip of his feet while everyone slowly looked down to see if Y/N would start to twitch. Their fingers started to twitch as Yunho started to walk up the stairs before Y/N”s eyes shot opened. Scrambling out of Yunho's arms onto the hard stone of the platform of the stairs. Watching them slowly look up at hongjoong who had that same twisted grin on his face as he kneeled with the cup still in hand. Swirling it around and teasingly holding it out and pulling it back in towards him. 

“Awe, the little bats thirsty. Should I be a nice captain and let you drink or punish you for creating such a scene at the dinner.” He started to chuckle when he could see the old Y/N trying to come back, fighting the urge to pounce but also wanting to say some very few choice words while trying to run away as far away as possible. But Hongjoong handed the cup to Yunho, who kneeled down and lifted up their chin and allowed them to smell it. It was a rich scent of blood, something that didn’t smell cross but something that smelled like fresh baked goods and everyone was excited to finally take a bite Slowly pouring the cup down their throat with little to no struggle, Yunho gave a genuine smile since the drink was his own blood. Which was something down to make the person closer to you. Meaning the only way, you would be able to die was if Yunho had died as well and that was almost entirely impossible to do since Yunho was also very careful of what he did. And he was turned by hongjoong. So, there was almost no getting rid of any of them. 

“Welcome Home Y/N, you’ll learn how to handle it soon. But just know there is and will be no escaping.”  

“Yunho- Why are you walking on the roof?” Y/N questioned, walking out of their bathroom with a black soft robe softly tied around their body before looking up at their roof, seeing Yunho walking with his hands holding something before he finally looked down and showed off his birhght smile, letting hikmself fall down and land on his feet like he was excited to fianlly say something about his day or what he managed to get for his lover this time. Ever since he was able to teach Y/N things, he knew that at some point one of them would have to move. Hongjoong wasn’t going to let go of Y/N since wooyoung made it clear that he would make a fuss about it till they came back and hongjoong was not about to deal with that all by himself. So, he took it upon himself to teach Yunho things about the city and how to act and hide his eyes more often while Wooyoung, Yeosang and Seonghwa had taken turns teaching Y/N things, from simply hunting to how to act when hungry.  

But at some point, Yunho had come back after making sure he knew everything and offered to move in with Y/N, but some things had to change. Even if they were used to the sun, when he first went to Y/N’s house he was dumbfounded by the Amont of windows looking down at the city and allowing the sun to shine brightly in the main bedroom. Something that confused him, sure the sunrise and sunset was beautiful to watch but, the sun is bright and people are nosey, so they got curtains large enough to hide things. It was only in their bedroom so they could had ethe privacy. He was getting used to driving around something he ended up enjoying but he was trying to get used to people and their crazy driving attempts it seems as well. But overall, he was enjoying his time and being able to get things for Y/N to show them that they do love and they're excited to keep learning in hopes of being able to work with the rest of his friends and partner. 

“Hongjoong-hyung gave me this to give to you! He said it was something you would enjoy and that I should give it.” He cheered, holding out the black box, smiling brightly before letting yn take it and slowly open the box to revel a golden necklace with red sapphire in some of the circle designs. The charms were made to look like water drops, some could say even blood drops with the red in the middle, but it was something Yunho wanted to gif. It made yn smile while carefully holding it to examine everything. Yunho was like a excited puppy happy to be around the owner after being separated for what felt like hours. “Yunho this is beautiful, I can’t wait to find something to wear it with.” Placing it back in the box carefully, y/n walked back to their walk in closet and placed it on another stand for it to be shown and taken care of. The two of them were home and just enjoying being around with each other after working.  

Yunho had walked behind them and lifted them up into their arms, even if they weren’t fully dressed or anything. He enjoyed letting his hands roam on their soft skin and enjoying listen to them talk about their day with their tv playing in the background. It was something he was slowly getting used to as the days went on into weeks and months and almost even 2 years at this point since it took around 4 months for yn to get used to being a vampire, a bit longer for Yunho to get used to the city life itself. The two of them were laying on the large circle bed with their backs lay against the headrest with the tv playing a show while resting against each other. Something they truly enjoyed doing when they had nothing else to truly do anymore. Quality time with each other just to enjoy themselves. Yunho would be holding them close and rubbing their back with their lips softly kissing their shoulders.  

Y/N would lean their head to the other side to allow Yunho more room while they let the robe tie get loosen just to allow Yunho’s hands to continue to roam while y/n’s attention was drifting their attention between the show and Yunho’s touch. But they were at the climax, but they let out a soft gasp before letting out a gasp and a moan before looking at Yunho and his hands. His mouth was sucking on that sweetspot on their neck, where his bite marks were, and his hands were holding his lover's thighs carefully while softly rubbing them. His eyes were closed as he was losing himself in the touches he was giving before he opened his eyes, locking eyes with y/n, almost looking like a dog who got caught doing something they weren’t supposed to do or they were finally excited to do. It was something that Yunho had always wanted to do but was nervous since this would be their first time together doing something like this. He wouldn’t know what to do, what was good or wasn’t good. But he also wanted to build the confidence and trust before allowing them to be raw with each other. The two of them were locking gazes with each other before Y/N gave the nod of approval. 

“Y/N, Fuck...please.” Yunho whimper, leaning his head back to let out a loud whimpery moan while holding their hair to keep their head close before slowly looking back down, letting their red eyes look down at their lover on the ground, their knees on the soft carpet with their mouth taking in Yunho’s cock like it was a popsicke in a hot day and it was melting away at the heat wave. Yunho’s clothes were thrown off instantly before this while the two of them were having their passionate makeout session between the two of them. Allowing everything fall off to the corners of the room before getting into this position. Yunho was a mess just from this while he tried to keep his grip not as tight but also not as loose as well. Bucking his hips up at the feeling and listneing to the gagging sounds, which only made him moan out more. It was something he was enjoying in ways he wasn’t ever sure how to express like this. 

He could feel like something was close, so instead of allowing himself to finish he pulled Y/n off, watching their mouth stay open while their fangs were showing, they were still small fangs still showing some, they were growing. But Y/N had to hunt down their first prey or drink a certain Amont of blood to get there. But the two of them had locked eyes while Y/ smiled before crawling ontop of Yunho before the two of them had flipped over. Y/N was smiling and chuckling at the actions while the pair kept having their own passionate kiss. Yunho’s hands going down to y/n’s thighs and softly kept squeezing them. Carefully spreading them open while lifting them up onto his shoulders to give a better angle while he enjoyed the feeling of y/n’s hands running through his hair, doing soft and random tugs before the two had to pull away. Opening their eyes before looking at each other. If there was any way to describe the look into each others eyes it would be seen as something, like a love feeling almost entirely too hard to put into words without messing up somewhere and making it sound like they were getting off topic. 

“Dear, I’ve never done something like this before. How would I do this?” Yunho mentioned, letting his eyes start to fill with worry before starting to slowly relax at his lovers touch, looking down into Y/N’s eyes while their soft fingers were rubbing Yunho’s cheeks. “Start off slow, like just the tip of it. Then after keep checking on me, they we can go from there, how about that okay?” Yunho nodded his head, leaning down to kiss their chest and shoulder before allowing himself to slowly push in the tip inside of Y/N’s hole, listening to the sound of their gasp before feeling the tightness squeeze around him, making him groan out in their ear before raising his head to see the look on Y/N’s face. Their eyes closing while their chest was rising and falling, biting their lip while listening to the sound of their moans and gasp. Feeling their hands tug on his hair before he nodded his head. Keeping his eyes closed but knew that Yunho wasn’t going to move without getting a green flag. But of course, Yunho being a good boy, listened and started to push in the rest, letting his groans and soft moans of pleasure be drowned out by the sound of Y/N’s moans and gasp. Letting their hips finally meet each other. 

“Never have I ever felt a dick this fucking big holy shit what blood were you drinking!” Y/N shouted with a loud moan following afterwards, making Yunho softly laugh at the accusation before trying to answer, making sure Y/n was comfortable before they started to move once again. “The blood I drink has nothing to do with the height of anything. If it did then captain would be a little bit taller than he is now, you tell me when I’m allowed to move or do anything alright?” Hearing the sudden line made Y/N laugh, it was a sly comment to add into this moment something hongjoong will never be able to live down despite how he could easily throw the two if he wanted to. 

“You can move Yunho, thanks for the lovely information.” There was something about Yunho’s smirk almost as if he was ready to drive Y/N crazy before he started to move his hips at a somewhat fast pace, it wasn’t too slow or gentle. Looking down to see a moaning Y/N hold his shoulders before he could feel the pace starting to pick up. Which would’ve made anyone else think this was a different person. The soft Yunho that is always asking if someone is okay, now roughly pounding into his lovers tight hole like nothing else was important. Watching how Y/N’s reactions went from soft pleasure to their eyes rolling to the back of their head, the moans and gasp reaching a higher pitch. Their nails digging and scratching into Yunho’s back. Listening to the endless whispers of praises thoughtlessly slipping out of Yunho's mouth with ease. “You look so pretty on my cock dove.” “I never felt something so tight suck me in before.” Almost all being drowned out by Y/N’s loud moans while their back arched upward, almost showing the outline of Yunho’s cock quickly moving back and fourth to that same pleasurious spot he’d hoped to get.  

Yunho wasn’t focused on pleasuring himself. Letting his smirk grow before seeing the squirming state and hearing the begging please for a release. The loud moans and gasps from in-between each response. There was no better art piece in Yunho’s mind than watching Y/N come undone under him. The air being a mess and slightly sprawled on the sheets, heir chest covered in blue and purple marks on their chest and neck, the way their mouth stayed opened to let out the sounds. ‘Harder Yunho Please’ ‘Please I need to come can I please’ ‘Please fill me Yunho please I’m begging!’ 

Yunho’s thoughts were being drowned once again by the endless sound of their moans before Y/N let out a loud scream of pleasure, curling upwards to hold onto Yunho’s shoulders before feeling Yunho’s release seconds later, making him whimper and shake before hearing Yunho’s groans ring in Y/N’s ear before the two of them went back to panting. Even if they truly weren’t tired, they had that look in their eyes. They were gonna be at this for a while... 

Bonus: 

“Yunho, you have got to stay off of them, or something man I can’t talk to Y/N without seeing them covered in your markings and barely able to stand for a minute before feeling better!” Wooyoung said, crossing his arms and pouting while Y/n was laughing. The pair of them sat on the main couch with a blanket wrapped around them while Yunho was grabbing a tray with enough drinks for everyone. Given how there was now a new addition to the vampire circle his name was San. Wooyoung claims to have turned him n a game of chases but that wasn’t even close, but he seemed to have gotten Wooyoung under control while getting to know everyone else in the circle. “It’s truly not my fault, look at him he’s attractive and knows the look to pull me in!” He defended himself, setting down the tray and letting everyone take their own glasses to enjoy themselves. The growing group was sitting in the living room around a large round black table with gold table clothes and coasters for them all. 

Hongjoong leaning back in a rocking chair with his leg crossed over the other while the cup in his hand, close to his lips with a happy smile on his face. His family was complete, and they were happy. He had his own partner with him, his group was explanting to meet new people, and now his oldest member with him had his own partner who was able to make him smile more. And crawl out of his old shell and explore the world with and move on. If you asked hongjoong, this is where he would rather be and nothing else matter. He was now watching Yunho Walk over and sit close to Y/N, wrapping his arm around their waist and pulling them closer. Softly kissing their foreheads and enjoying their smiles being passed around the room.  

“We couldn’t even go hunting till 3am! Someone thought I was a demon who was hungry.” Wooyoung pouted, rolling his eyes playfully at the late-night hunt which should’ve started at 1am and ended at 2 so everyone could still enjoy the night before the sun started to rise. “To be fair here Wooyoung, I can’t say no he’s not shy about being in bed anymore.” “Why is this something I would need to know in public here.” Y/N started to laugh more as they tried to take sips of their drink while trying to respond still. “Why is this something any of us needed to know about in a public setting here.” “And this, Yeosang is Y/N’s house it’s private.” Yunho countered back while the laughter kept filling the living room along with playful eyerolls from some of them even. To think all of this happened because of a very kinky bite. 

[seikkoi]

ꜱᴜɢᴀʀ | dom!tony stark x sugarbaby!reader ( ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ!ᴀᴜ )

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜰᴏᴜʀ [1, 2, 3] | ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3

There was nothing that could keep Tony from having exactly what he wanted—and he deserved a little sweetness in his life. All he had to do was keep from ruining you in the process.

content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. non-canon, non-superhero au, sub/dom undertones, slight emotional/verbal manipulation, obsessive + possessive behavior, age gap (reader described as mid-twenties, t.s as mid-forties), mildly dubious consensual situations, explicit mentions of alcohol and drug use, generally not for the light of heart, rough sexual content, reader described as petite word count: 10k

“I have not been meeting with Steve.” you scowled behind gritted teeth. Balled fists return to your side. Pin-point daggers shoot back, unphased.

It’s an absurd notion on its own, that you betray him in the slightest. You also know you’ve had sneezes last longer than that conversation–how the hell did Tony know about it?

“Try again.” He doesn’t return your heat in his voice, leaving that to be felt through his grasp. 

“Fine, I ran into Steve, but come on, you seriously think I would–”

“Not sure what to think given how easy it just was for you to lie to me.” 

“You’ve been lying to me from the start!” 

You pulled yourself from his grasp, tossing the bag onto the island. Cream marble and translucency make for wonderful camouflage, almost losing itself in the light entirely.

“I’d hardly call my personal habits comparable to sneaking around.” 

Adrenaline does what it knows best, keeping you pliant and pissed. Two things that erode rationalism like rust. The iron spreads to whatever argument you would’ve made had there been more time to prepare. Or sense to see the mosaic pattern here. Time stills for no more than a few seconds–and that’s all Tony needs.

“So, go ahead, please. Tell me more about what I should think .”

He says it so permissively, you might have obliged if his jaw loosened even a bit to do so. That tiny breadth of space is stalked through by shiny leather oxfords. You’re given a not so pleasant reminder of his stature when he's in front of you again, more overwhelming than before. The cool stone island digs into your back. 

“Here I was actually worried something could have happened to you–turn’s out you’re searching for, what , exactly?” 

The reversal almost worked, really. The reminiscent guilt came back as it always does. You felt the same way for wanting to leave back in California months ago. Even all that time ago in that dimly lit boutique. Tony showed you time and time again how much he loved you– wanted you, and here you were, finding another reason to push him away.

You were so close to giving in. The marble’s nearly swallowed the powdery bag whole by now, for it takes you longer to see the plastic outline bouncing back at you. 

Tony waits, hands tucked into the pocket of his suit pants (in a very deliberate attempt to hide his own unease). His eyes still bore back into you like a hawk, and you wanted to surrender to them until their pin-point, reddened nature dawned on you. Then, the subtle rise and fall of his chest, the tempo beating fast your own. The shake in his hands when he held you in place.

To Tony, you meet his eyes with something far more heart-piercing than anger, and he gets a sick feeling of deja vu. You wouldn’t know–his face stone cold from years of practice. But this close, you can see something worse. 

“You’re wasted right now .” 

You don’t bother making it a question (it’s a quiet scoff). Nor do you bother to wait for the response he’s struggling to muster. Decades of life yet he lacked a great deal of experience in getting called on his shit.  All the air seems to leave the room, saving just the few breaths you have remaining in your lungs. 

“We’re done.” 

You use them wisely, calmly , even, to head for the elevator and as far away from this as possible. Despite the fact your ears are ringing. Don’t ask where you find the willpower. You push past him, rather easily because Tony moves for the sanctity of his shoulder and knee. 

Your fingers go to grace the brass buttons, but Tony crosses the threshold with far fewer steps and positions himself between you and the opening door. 

“ Move , Tony.” you say sternly, though it feels ridiculous raising your voice at someone whose gaze you have to look up to meet. 

“Don’t want to keep Mr. America waiting, of course.”

“Seriously?” you scoff, eyes rolling. “You’re still on that?”

“I don’t know, you still wanna lie to me?” 

“How many times do I need to tell you–”

“I know you were with him, so you can cut the bullshit.”

“I told you, I ran into Steve. That’s . It. ” you respond, making another move for the button just for Tony to shift an inch to the left. 

“You two looked very cozy outside that bar. Let me guess, he ordered a Manhattan and you just couldn’t say no.” 

“For god’s sake, no . He came out while I was waiting and asked me not to tell you–end of story.” You’d hoped that added details would be enough to assuage him–at least to move out of your way.

“So, you decided all on your own to rummage through the bathroom?” 

As many of his questions tend to be, he already knows the answer. Even still, the look you give is telling on its own. 

“I mean, really–” he chuckles dryly, “Please tell me what is so special about him that you keep trusting him over me.” 

“He, for one, isn’t controlling or watching my every move–out of the way, Tony.” you repeat, exhausted. 

Tony’s eyes dart down to the elevator panel he’d done such a phenomenal job of blocking, before glancing back at your pleading face. That seems to do the trick, because he presses the call button himself and gestures open arms into the small space. 

“By all means, knock yourself out.”

Shocked, but without another word, you enter. As you turn and press L for the lobby, you expect Tony’s irate face staring back at you.

Instead, you catch the patterned fabric lining the back of his suit vest as he walks away.

Once the elevator doors shut, Tony loses his last semblance of composure. 

A sheer crystal serving tray by the stove behind him, topped with an array of ornate glasses, is thrown straight across the kitchen where it crashes to a million pieces at the plush living room rug. 

He truly does not enjoy your penchant for storming off today or any other day.

Today is the worst, though, for two reasons. One, he’s not certain that letting you leave was the best move in the long-term. Two, you promised never to do this in the first place–you fucking promised. 

Another innocent bystander (this time a glass pitcher) joins the pile in the living room. 

Stuttery hands brace the counter. It’s of little effort for him to keep a hardened facade in the face of anger, but now that you’re not here to see it, the stone mask cracks. Shame, guilt, anger and that sneaky trickster known as self-righteousness blend up into something new entirely. There’s no pride in this for him, truly. 

The billionaire was so certain when he saw the photos. You and fucking Rogers of all people, talking so close. Paranoia and a lack of reasonable perspective means his first thoughts are not pleasant in any shape or form. He wasn’t controlling , everything he did was preventative. This was self-confirmation (and a shit ton of jealousy). You’d simply done the thing he was most afraid of. 

Or it was the thing he was most afraid of. 

The counter stays tight under his grasp until his hands sport two fresh indentations, cursing himself and trying not to think about how breakable the chandelier is. 

Just as he was sure of the photos, he was sure of you . You wouldn’t leave him, you were here to stay, you wanted him–right? 

Only now under the cool touch of marble does he realize those ideas could never possibly co-exist. 

No one as good to him as you would betray him, you wouldn’t. But you could reach the breaking point he sought so heavily to avoid in the beginning.

All alone in his tower built atop money and bad habits, the chandelier is spared as the great Tony Stark starts to break instead.

That is until he remembers he isn’t alone.

“Jarvis.” he calls out, and the older man emerges from the hallway no louder than a mouse.

Don’t feel embarrassed, the walls and loyal ears have certainly heard worse. Discretion is 90% of his job after all. In fact, right now he’s pretending not to notice the tears running down Tony’s face.

“Find out where she went.”

Tony keeps his head trained to the countertop anyway, just in case. Jarvis turns to follow through his instructions, but stops as soon as he starts. Decades of serving the Stark family is enough to know he’s probably better off holding his tongue. He speaks for your sake.

“Sir, I suspect she went home.” 

At this, the wetness is dried by his shirt sleeve, already grabbing his coat to follow you. 

“Sir,” Jarvis quickly interjects, Tony’s fingers on the call button. “Might I suggest…waiting until the morning?” 

He doesn’t need to say why. Tony can guess well enough.

You actually had no destination in mind. The thought of home felt disgustingly empty, and the reminder that you only still had it because of Tony would definitely stay persistent. You couldn’t bear to think about what you might've done to pay for it otherwise. Going to a friend’s would require an explanation you absolutely could not give. For a while, you wander just as before. You must look insane to the people passing by–makeup definitely stained and running.

A rudimentary pros and cons list is drafted, revised, deleted, and drafted once more. Sure, you didn’t have a slew of loves to compare it to, but you knew the one you had for Tony was irreplaceable. No one ever made you feel this wanted , this loved , this special .  No ex of yours left a dozen roses by your door–or waited in the car for hours while you slept. They didn’t fill their lacquer kitchen cabinets with herbal teas just because you mentioned liking them once . Hibiscus and rooibos flooded Tony’s kitchen so long as it kept you happy . Every other relationship was a caustic whirlpool. Tony was a dizzying fantasia. You gleefully closed your eyes so many times that the thought of opening them made you nauseous. 

You swallow stale bile and keep walking. 

The dusky hue in the sky grows to a fine oceanic blue above you until you gain enough sense to go home. Out of spite (and totally not because you have no other way), you take the subway home, cheeks raw from the night’s sharp wind on your tears. 

Your heels clank awkwardly on the metal descent, echoing on the platform. It’s empty, sharply different from the vamping nightlife outside. It’s not long before your train hustles down the track, stepping on to an disturbingly, equally empty train car. 

You slump into the first empty seat you see. In a calmer mood, you might’ve bothered with your phone, instead staring into your reflection on the glass pane. The gentle rocking starts soon after, and you work on putting your mind somewhere besides bergamot and red. 

Tony does not like waiting.

He would be working, if he could find even a shadow of concentration. All he can think about is you– the grit in your voice. 

At some point in his marathon around the penthouse, the small pile of glass is quietly cleaned away. Out of sheer boredom (and latent regrets), he considers creating a new one.

Why would you leave him– how could you leave him? 

In the idle night hours, pacing from room to room, Tony almost wishes you had cheated on him. Then, he could be right. He could skip past silly little thought pieces over his vices addiction and fly straight to indignity. It wouldn’t be his fault, would it? He wouldn’t have to explain a damn thing to a world that didn’t care for him.

Everyone betrayed him in the end, even you. 

With enough clarity, he might be able to see the shame hiding under all that self-righteousness, but alas. Years of practice and all. 

The best he can do for now is scalding admonishment. 

And a pinch of paranoia that his own actions caused Steve to seek you out–again. Tony knew the soldier was stupid, but that would be moronic . He made himself perfectly clear this morning, no shot Steve chose this as the method for exacting his revenge. It wasn’t a well-guarded secret amongst Tony’s circle that you were to be left ignorant, you weren’t like them . Really, he’d purposefully (and harshly) informed this as much. If Steve wanted to embarrass him then he failed succeeded miserably. The fact he would even attempt such a thing is the greater offense. 

Tony’s self-indulgent, not an idiot. Even under watered layers of complexes, he knows the greatest offense lies ten feet away on his kitchen counter. In fact, it’s what keeps him awake through the night. Awake and thinking–thinking about how fucking flawlessly he was keeping everything under wraps. This infallible image he crafted for you was gone. No longer could he hide behind a glass barrier of false separation. Foolish Tony–believing a second chance would come so freely. 

He made the same mistake twice. The odds he’d get a third chance were slim to none. At the time, he felt lucky to even have Pepper. Clearly he’s doing something worth rewarding on this Earth, because then he found you. Or, alternatively, God realized what a disservice he’d done by walking missile Tony’s way in the first place. 

You were invaluable. Nothing like his playboy flings or one-night stands. From the moment he laid eyes on you he knew his life would never be the same without you.

You promised , and he intends to make good on it even if you won’t. 

Tony can’t recall the last time he waited for a damn thing in his adult life (much less to sober up), and he doesn’t care much for starting something new today. Then, he remembers just how much patience he has for you. He waits for you patiently as you oggle every mural, piece of street art, or weird boutique. He waits as quietly as can be while you sleep, and he waited months for you to feel comfortable enough to spend consecutive nights at his home. 

There’s a pit growing in his chest–one screaming that his hard work might be swirling down the drain. How stupid he was for letting you storm off. With each passing second, you were sinking further from his grasp.

To hell with waiting. 

After all, he’s Tony Stark –he’d deny himself of nothing he desired. He didn’t work this hard to settle for less than that. 

In his defense, he does attempt to do the courteous thing of calling before showing up randomly in the middle of the night. Your phone, hopelessly abandoned deep in your purse, rings to no answer. It totally doesn’t make him more irate. 

One extremely lonely, and infuriating train ride later, you make it home. You jump when a knock vibrates through your apartment–though you know there’s only one person who’d show up in the middle of the night. Still, you tiptoe across the living to peer through the peephole anyway. While you were not super enthusiastic about seeing him outside your door this soon, the defeated slump in his shoulders gives you some satisfaction. 

A very brief, stereotypical through-the-door conversation ensues. You shout for him to leave, to which Tony provides the usual platitudes to just open the door and you respond further with a stout fuck no .  You roll your eyes at his continued pleas, and turn for your bedroom. He could sit out there and talk to the door all night like a madman if it suited him, but you weren’t going to spend a precious second on this earth listening to it. 

You don’t even make it past your couch before you hear what you swear to god cannot be your lock turning. God, Buddha, and everything else divine must have been busy, because Tony stands in the entryway, illuminated by the kitchen stove light. 

“Have you lost your mind ? Where the hell did you get a key?” 

He shrugs and looks around like it’s obvious. 

“The lease holder is usually given a key, especially if they’re paying.” 

The aghast scoff can’t wait to leap from your throat. 

“You know what, fuck you .” you spat, flying past him to the door. “No good deed , huh?” 

Somewhere between you storming out earlier in the night and his decision to come here (or maybe walking up the creaking stairs) he seems to have gotten the impression you were in a joking mood. There’s nothing but sweetness in his voice now, yet you still can’t trust that you know where his head’s at. Your night had been tumultuous enough without him showing up. 

Your fingers just barely wrap around a cool metal knob, the hall light leaving a thin warm line on your face. Tony braces a heavy palm above your head the second it does, closing it shut with a frame wobbling thud . 

“A bit rude to run out on me twice, don’t ya think?” he smirks, looking down at you. 

“A bit rude to force your dirty money on someone then hold it over their head, don’t you think?” you mock, stupidly trying to pull the handle open a second time, unbudging against Tony’s palm, biceps testing the elasticity of his silk shirt. You were getting tired of constantly feeling trapped. 

You wish you’d stay far away, in the safety of the living room where citrus didn’t take you over. Where that hopeless little part of your brain could stay quiet and not scream to wrap your arms around his torso. Also because the door doesn’t move a fucking centimeter, so it was a waste of energy regardless. 

“If you wanted someone who’d let you work yourself to death or end up on the street, you should’ve called that guy from your high school reunion back. You know–the real handsy one with the mohawk.”

“I’ll get right on that if you move out of the fucking way.” 

“Please, like I’d ever allow that.” Tony laughs, and you’re wondering why you appear as some sort of one-woman comedy act by every man in this city.

“What the hell do you want? I told you–I’m done with this.” 

He ends his chuckle with a tsk , leaving you in the living room to sit at your kitchen table. The feet of the metal chair make a discordant screech across the linoleum and he turns the seat towards you before sitting. 

“You don’t mean that, honey.” Tony smiles, tapping his shoes against the floor.

“I meant it.”

He gestures back towards the entryway.

“Nothing but space and opportunity to run away again, what’s stopping you?”

“You just said you wouldn’t let me.” You’re giving it your all not to shout, to scream at him for how insane this is. If you were still at the tower, you might not have bothered–far away from neighbors with loose lips and thin walls. 

“I’d never allow you to waste your time with someone else. Storm off as much as you like–that won’t keep you from me.” 

It’s all cool words and charisma, with a sickeningly violet weight that flips your stomach. He’s far across the space, and the door is still within inches of your grasp. 

“Find literally anyone else to sit here and play this game with you.”

“What part of ‘ I want you, and only you ’ do you not understand?” 

The kitchen stove light still illuminates his figure, casting a dim shadow over his back to shadow his figure across the floor. His feet continue to tap idly, head resting on his palms as if confused to why such a statement even needed to be told to you (again).

“You were getting along just fine before you met me, go back to that–I don’t want any part of whatever the hell else it is you’ve been lying about–”

“I’m not letting you go.”

That sweetness is his voice is pushed out to make room for pure desperation. The words waiver as they leave him, clearly fighting against whatever instinct wanted to hold it in, though you can’t help wondering if that’s all that caused the shake. An air of silence falls, where he watches you from the kitchen with stabbing eyes. Walking away is logical, but something unnatural freezes you in place. Plus, you’re not certain he wouldn’t fly to the door again the moment you touch it. 

“Why me?”

Another short silence and this time you’re the one to take advantage of it, louder than you needed to be.

“And why accuse me of sneaking around? I barely even spoke to him how the hell did you know–”

“Were you not?”

Your nostrils flare, nails digging into tight wound palms.  Water droplets leave the kitchen faucet in out of time drips. This is why your fingers shook and bore a million typos to correct. Lying to Tony Stark was one of the stupidest riskiest things you could do. 

“I just needed time to think–”

“To play Nancy Drew..” He corrects. It’s not tempered, just matter-of-factly–like a lawyer pointing out bad evidence.  

“I needed to see for myself–” 

“ Asking totally wasn’t an option.” Tony meets your volume with too much ease.

“Like you would have told me the truth !”

“I’ve never lied to you–”

“Oh, right , you only speak in half-truths, or say it’s nothing to ‘concern myself with ’!” Your anger pulls you across the creaky floors of the entryway, feet tethering on the wood boundary lining off the tile of the kitchen. 

“You’re not–”

“That’s the real reason Pepper left you, isn’t it? Not any of that bullshit you tried to sell me L.A–she left because you play like some larger-than-life billionaire and not the shady piece of shit you are.” 

You don’t have to continue your slow stampede into the kitchen, as the chair makes another unsettling screech on the tile when Tony suddenly stands. An indignation only complimentary to your own is expected, but it isn’t what you get.

“I didn’t come here to be judged by you.” His mouth barely moves to say it–as even the slightest parting would cause him to shout back and have the fight you seem to be dying to have.

“Why the hell are you here?” A better phrased, more favored question in your opinion would have been ‘ why did you break into my apartment after I dumped you? ’, but the answer’s surely the same.

Tony can glare down lasers at you as much as he likes, he’s not getting his way (for once)–you aren’t crumbling (for once).

“I need you.”

That disgusting, heart-string tugging desperation comes back and it turns out you still haven’t built your defense strong enough. You’re taken aback, because you had prepped for a full blown argument. You had enough ammo loaded up to keep this going all night. But somehow, it’s a heavier three-word declaration than I love you .  It’s not a murmur or with a racing chest. 

And it is wholly true. Life had him placed on a giant, constant stage. Where he needed to be someone else–someone stronger and with rougher edges. It kept him enclosed. Where everything he hated about himself was reflected in everyone and everything around him. That kind of cycle is self-feeding. A snake gnawing at its exhausted tail for eternity. It was a spur of the moment decision to stop for a drink that night. Truthfully, he had more than enough already coursing through his veins, but the tower felt emptier than usual in his mind, and this career warrants you very few friends. 

Maybe it was the flickering neon signs–glowing brand names across the sidewalk. The bustling noise flooded the rest of the quiet street like an overflowing bucket. It was a grimy, crowded hole in the wall–small, and cut away from the sprawling residential neighborhood around it. It reminded him of his life before he fucked it up. When no one knew his name or where he came from.

You were just an added bonus. He had planned to relish in the chaos of everyone around as he drank for inebriation instead of taste for once. But dark red nails pass him the glass, and he finds himself stuck watching them for the rest of the night. Despite the man Tony was, he wasn't anyone to you, and a woman like you shouldn’t have been anything to him.

He comes back simply out of craving. That anonymity , that freedom. From responsibility, from judgment. Tony realizes he’s befriended the snake too long. He accepted everything around him as a product of fate and piss-poor luck.You changed that. You made him remember a long forgotten fact–that everything he wanted was within arms reach. 

Suddenly, your eyes take great interest in grout speckling the tile below. There wasn’t enough room for disbelief in the quaint walls of your apartment.

“You’re the only person who doesn’t see me, as–I don’t know, me?” he exhales, running over his face as he re-takes his seat.

“You,” you trail off, shoulders loosening just to earn a small tremble. “--actually mean that.” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

You’re gathering the bravado to say something along the lines of ‘ well asshole you were high as a kite when you told me you loved me and never said it again ’. Maybe without the asshole part. A difficult act indeed.

"I didn’t sign up for any of this." you murmur, trying to quench any further questions and avoid a very stern ‘ I told you so ’. But Tony's gaze remains fixed on your arm, making your nerves spike. “–if I had known everything, your work–”

“You wouldn't have agreed to see me, really ?” Tony grins and cocks an eyebrow that you miss in your deep inspection of the tile. “You weren’t clueless when we met.” 

“I wasn’t but–”

“But what?” He sharply interjects. He can’t stand how your eyes land anywhere but him. This conversation is giving him deja vu, and not the whimsical kind. It’s the kind that wraps around the body and stops the flow of blood.  “All of sudden you wanna have a ‘ come to Jesus ’ moment and find some moral high ground?”

Tony’s, unsurprisingly, not wrong. You had good enough sense the moment he slipped into that barstool, asking for a whiskey list as if the knife-shaped tear in the cushion couldn’t tell him that was pointless. A brief glance and finger of Jack Daniels was all he got from you. You spent the rest of the hour catering to the usual Friday night crowd of drunks, only thinking of him again when the shiny green bills made a funny reflection underneath his empty glass. 

Honestly, you were more surprised no one took it for themselves.

It’s when he shows up a second night that you bother with conversation (purely out of gratitude and nothing else, right?). It’s the second night when you stay so, so much later than you should have, talking to someone you knew you shouldn’t be. You ignored it all then, just as you have for the last eight months. Burying your worries under a mountain of attachment and clouds of insecurity. 

You were lucky. Shit, you feel that same gratuitous pang right now. Grateful that he still wanted you. Actually, to put it in his words– needed you. You’re not certain how much longer you could’ve kept it buried if you hadn’t asked Steve directly. You didn’t want him to be right, but all he did was validate every worry and order a swift excavation of everything you hoped wasn’t true. 

“I kept telling myself that it was nothing, but–”” you trail off quietly.

“ But ?” he repeats.

You definitely can’t meet his gaze now, waiting for him to call you naive or tell you that this is somehow some huge misunderstanding. He doesn’t speak, though, and you can’t stop your mouth from opening under the weight of everything spinning in your head.

“But Steve says you’ve been doing this since you were in college.”

“That’s how Steve tells that story?” He scoffs.

“Come on, what else? Lay it on me, doll.” You watch a misshapen shadow stretch the length of the kitchen as Tony makes a dramatic beckoning of the hand.

“Why? So you can figure out what you don’t have to admit to?”

He takes a deep sigh that shifts into a short chuckle.

“You’ve been told a very half-cocked story, my apologies for trying to fix that. Trust me, Steve’s had it out for me for a while now.”

“I trust him a lot more than you right now.” 

“That would be a bad choice.” 

You snap your head up at the scorn. Where you gained this inclination to shoot back at everything with fire–you don’t know. You swear it’s just Tony, where sometimes you just want to match his arrogance tenfold.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that? I’ve learned more about you from him and so far, he hasn’t been wrong.”

“You know more about me than anyone, without running around behind my back.” 

“Yeah, there's just the woman you’re still married to, the cocaine in your bathroom, your company, whatever the hell it is you do while I’m sleeping because you surely aren’t–”

“Alright, alright, okay,” he interrupts, tossing his hands up in defeat and leaning back. “Would you just sit down for a sec–humor me, will you?”

Sullenly, you pull out the matching metal chair across from him. As you sit, folding your arms over your chest, you wonder how fate has aligned that you’ve met such an infuriating and intoxicating person. And why you were even giving this hail mary display the time of day. 

“Let me tell you a story, it’s a good one, swear.” Tony flashes a diamond grin and it takes everything in you not to return it. It does cool your nerves somewhat.

“Better be a good one.” you respond, and Tony promises it’s worth hearing. 

“I’m in my last year at MIT taking this exam for this real stick-up-his-ass professor–I’m talking this guy doesn’t have the muscles required to smile, just all nonsense. It’s my last godforsaken test before winter break and I’ve gotta pass this to be done with this soul-sucking school–”

“You? Stressing about school? Already this story’s got holes in it.” 

“Did you miss the part about this guy being a hardass? Because I could’ve sworn I mentioned it.”

“The test was all about theory and it didn’t matter how much you knew, you had to answer it the way he would. I actually had to focus for once and I’m on this question about integrating quantum computing with electrical grid systems, you know how the ions might–”

“Totally, right.” you remark once you realize a science lecture is inbound. Tony’s ramblings often came late and always flew completely over your head. Tonight, you’re just finding it hard to care. 

“You are a really bad listener, you know that?” 

That earns an instinctive smirk from you, but you sigh and let him continue.

“I’m ten equations and at least five paragraphs into this question and my pager starts going off. I don’t even bother checking what it is–I just hit silence and keep going.” he tells it like it’s a true epic, the sort you swap at tailgates or weddings to try to one-up someone else’s, but you get the sense it’s not. 

“An hour later with like, the worst cramp in my hand and 500% certainty I failed, no big deal, I finally check the message–call Jarvis back and he tells me my parents were in an accident. The weirdest thing was I didn’t even think they were dead–” 

“Tony–” you start, though you weren’t even sure what to say. 

“Honestly,” he chuckles dryly, the bravado in his voice silking away. “I was kinda relieved, for a second. The old man would’ve ripped me a new one for failing that test and I just thought he was a little banged up–too busy nursing a broken arm or something to check my grades.”

Tony’s laugh fades off into a somber sigh, shifting in the wobbling chair. The count of drips in the sink to your right tells you it’s been silent too long. You still don’t have the words to fill it. What kind of words would they even be? Of comfort? Humor to dispel his sadness? If he even was , that is. You gave up on trying to read him. 

“Anyway, my point is . I wasn’t ready to do this– I was 21, getting an electrical engineering degree, notice how that has nothing to do with medicine or biotech. So I did the cowardly thing–let someone else take the wheel and I’m still paying for it twenty years later. Believe me, I’m not loving this either.”

“Then why don’t you stop? I mean you still have a legitimate company, stop using it to make things you don’t want to make.” 

“It sounds so incredibly simple when you put it like that. Gee, wonder why I didn’t think of that earlier.” He makes an exaggerated face of amazement. “Look, I didn’t want you to know because I don’t need someone else telling me how to handle things–it’s my company, it’s my job to sort this out.”

“Does your job require you to test the product yourself?” It’s a lot ruder than you mean it to be, but it’s the real issue corroding your mind. 

“That’s one of the benefits we offer at Stark Industries.” he laughs. 

You still aren’t feeling humorous, scoffing and standing the moment you realize he isn’t taking a word you say seriously. Tony’s fast behind you, stepping between you and the arch into the living room. 

“Okay, okay. But you’re worrying yourself over nothing, doll. I’ve got it handled.” he assures you (poorly), bracing your shoulders with his hands. 

“Yeah, from here it looks totally handled.”

Contrary to the snare in your words, you weren’t a heartless monster. You weren’t playing moral adjudicator like Tony might think. You can recognize this as one of his rare moments of emotional theater, but you can’t be bothered to care knowing what comes after if you fall for it. Especially when you can tell from how not-serious he’s taking this that there’s not a chance he’d stop using anytime soon. You were just tired of being lied to. And you weren’t going to keep watching him self-destruct. All you needed right now was your bed and hot, long shower to put this day behind you.

Tony sighs, abandoning your shoulders to pinch his nose.

“It’s just…You experience things and then they're over and you still can't explain 'em. This business, Pepper, things I can’t even put into words. I...I'm just trying to make sense of it all. The only reason I haven't cracked up is probably because you’re around a lot more. Which is great. I do love you, I'm lucky. But, honey, I can't sleep, not when there's so much to be done to get out of this.”

You’re stunned into silence again. Because Tony speaks a thousand miles a minute and you’re still getting used to hearing ‘ I love you ’ from a sober mouth.

“Tony, this isn’t–” you stammer.

“I know, I know, you’re gonna say this doesn’t change anything but I can’t do that without you, I won’t.” 

Calloused hands brace your sides instead. Warm and loose instead of strict and holding. You can feel the static though. There’s an electric heat jumping between fingertips and white fabric that wants to hold you tight until you can’t tell the difference between his skin and yours. You’ll never see it another time so clearly, but the glaze in Tony’s eyes is desperate– unyielding . You’re scared to give in and only slightly less worried about what it means if you don’t.

You were pissed that he kept something from you– again . You still were. The whole world seemed privy to exactly who Tony Stark was, except you. You were an outsider looking in through frosted window panes. Like the new kid watching everyone else giggle at an inside joke you couldn't possibly understand. 

But you couldn’t say he didn’t care for you. The most damning part was that you loved him . Whether it was truly reciprocated was another question, but you couldn’t think of any other reason he’s standing in your kitchen at three in the morning, letting the stained brown walls wash out the blue details in his suit vest. 

So, you rather than blindly submit, you place a wager. 

“Then promise me you’ll get help.” You force your voice to be stable, confident. You meet his eyes with the same bravado, stepping back from his grasp. If done properly, and he needed you as much as he so claimed, then you win your self-made bet.

You notice he doesn’t reach out to hold you close, instead staring pensively into you for a moment longer than you would like.

 “Okay, done.” he answers, shrugging nonchalantly. “That all?”

“Really? That simple?” you ask, baffled

Tony shrugs again, the crisp folds of his vest giving way to a stout laugh then a sigh.

“If that’s what it takes.”

Afterwards, you’re able to easily separate your life into three segments. There’s life before you started dating billionaire Anthony Edward Stark, life after, and life when you started dating Tony . They are too separate individuals, afterall. You learn that in due time. 

Anthony Edward Stark is a wealthy businessman, arrogant, withholding, charming, and a few notches above dedicated to you. He hates vegan food and wasting time.He's utterly hopeless in the kitchen, with a preference for iron red and a penchant for dry martinis (always dry, you learned this from serving him a classic out of habit on night two). There’s a collection of Black Sabbath albums hiding under his office desk, and there’s a slightly larger collection of ballpoint pens in the trash can nearby–caps gnawed to uselessness in one too many spirals of concentration.

Tony is much the same, in all respects. Eeeeexcept there’s that ex-wife he seemingly abhors. And the designer powdered death he proliferates through the city. And the addiction he promises to hold at bay. He keeps his end of the bargain, though and vicariously becomes someone new once he sleeps a whole lot more. Okay, okay so there's a lot. Overall, he is calmer. The fiery temper is dulled, replaced with an occasional unwarranted annoyance at the most mundane of things. At first, it’s concerning to you–watching his face screw at tailgating cars or broken zippers. Then, you find it pretty amusing, seeing someone so perfectly sewn together furrow their brows at long lines instead of losing it altogether at moments of chaos. Though you quickly figure out why he avoided sleep in the first place. 

It doesn’t happen until your third night back at the tower. A drizzle coats the high windows of the bedroom, the moonlight barely enough to see the rise and fall of his chest beside you. You’re deep into sleep, curled into Tony when you’re jolted awake by a sudden movement. Your eyes flicker open, confused and scanning the silk sheets before he twitches again, muttering in his sleep.

Barely awake, you shifted onto your side, planting a hand on his chest. With his arms no longer wrapped around your side, another twitch sends them flying to his chest.  His skin was warm, damp, mutterings continuing to fall from his lips–angry broken pleas for someone or something to stop. You’d think the windows were open with how bad he shivered.

“Tony,” you called out softly, rocking his shoulder. “Wake up.” 

It takes a few more attempts, each shake growing stronger as you gain more clarity. One of them must have woken him, arms leaving his chest to push your arms away. Fresh off a nightmare and no more awake than you were, he used much more force than needed, completely overshooting your hands to inadvertently strike your cheek.

You winced at the unexpected blow, your hand instinctively flying to your slight sting. Swearing softly, you met his wide-eyed gaze. He moves away from you in the same instant, breathing heavily at the edge of the bed

“Shit–I’m sorry– Fuck,” His hands ran across his face and through his hair more times than you can count, still struggling to catch his breath. “I didn’t know you–”

“It’s okay-Are you okay?” you interrupted, far more concerned about the way how terrified he sounded in his sleep and barely feeling it anymore regardless.

“Yeah, all good, bad dream.” Tony swung his legs over the edge, head resting in his hands. “Shit, that shouldn’t have happened.”

You wanted to press him about it, but decided against it while his voice is this shaky. 

Instead, you move to sit behind him and run a hand over the soft skin of his back until his breath returns to normal. You don’t say anything when the shakes turn to muffled sobs. Instead, you move to sit behind him and run a hand over the soft skin of his back until his breath returns to normal.

Neither of you speak about it. Not then, the next morning, or ever again. It just becomes a new part of reality. Anthony Edward Stark doesn’t sleep. Tony has nightmares that can turn into full panic attacks and render him a tremoring mess. Afterwards, he takes a cold shower and returns to bed without a word. Not that you know what to say anyway.

This is somehow harder. To watch him lose control. You were, as most lovers are, impeccably biased. Tony’s life was enviable to anyone with a brain, and yet he was as fractured as anyone.

“Honey, you plan on eating?” he asks, tapping the rim of your porcelain plate with his fork. 

You’re brought out of your deep thoughts and back into the present where roasted lemon fills your nostrils from the salmon below. You blame the restaurant–far too quiet to keep from drifting off. The candlelight flickers gently over the small table, creating small dancing shadows of you and Tony on the white linen. 

You met his inquisitive brown eyes, giving a small apology before grabbing the cold metal fork. Despite its mouth-watering smell, the taste is anything but. You attempt to hide your displeasure, but such an act is useless this close. 

“What’s wrong?” Tony abandons his own meal to question you. 

"Nothing, it's just... a little overcooked for my taste," you reply, trying to sound lighthearted. You were never the kind of person to send a meal back, and certainly weren't about to start at a place with a Michelin star.

“Could have sworn you ordered medium.” His posture stiffens, eyebrows raised. 

“Simple mistake, it happens.” you shrugged, preparing for a second attempt. 

You don’t get the chance, as Tony stands abruptly, grabbing the plate before your fork could make an impression. 

“Be right back." he assures you, a cold detachment in his voice. 

Without waiting for a response, he strides away from the table, towards the back of the restaurant, leaving you confused. 

After a few moments of waiting, a sense of unease begins to gnaw at you. You rise from your seat and, with hesitant steps, vaguely follow the path he took to a set of wide swinging doors. The soft glow of the overhead lights illuminates the narrow hallway, casting long shadows against the walls.

As you approach the kitchen, a waiter hurriedly scurries out, giving you a glimpse of Tony inside, one hand typing away idly at his phone and the other resting on a prep table, wrapped tightly in a blue rag. 

Blood stains the pristine white of the chef's uniform, his nose crimson and dripping onto his graying beard as he flips a fresh piece of salmon. He spares you a brief timid glance when the doors swing. One hand dabs poorly at the splotches while the other white-knuckles a metal spatula. With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you step cautiously into the kitchen, abandoning the warm lights of the hallway for the fluorescent kitchen overheads.

"Oh, hey there," Tony says casually, an icy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

 “He’s remaking your salmon.” he explains enthusiastically, returning his attention to his phone.

You stand frozen, watching crimson bleed through the rag. You guessed the chef didn’t take too kindly to criticism, and you know Tony doesn’t take no for an answer. 

Maybe you didn’t know what calm looked on Tony after all. 

You assume you should be grateful. Grateful that he did as you asked and stopped hiding behind his own layers. You got exactly what you wanted after, Tony, wholly and entirely bare for you to see. No more paranoia that you weren’t enough or that this would all come crashing you both down into murky waters. Well, there was still a chance of that. Only now the waves are crystal clear, revealing everything you begged to see. 

At least he got more sleep this way. 

You relished in waking up next to him–when it wasn’t from night tremors, of course. You could watch the sun streak through the curtains and glow around his features, calm and peaceful. It’s a moment of absolute solitude you look forward to each night. Listening to nothing but the faint calls of birds and muffled rumblings as the city woke up 93 floors. You bide the time hill wakes by running your fingers along his chest and shoulder, memorizing scars by feeling alone.

This morning you awake too early, daybreak barely starting and an inability to fall back asleep. Quietly, you pull yourself from Tony’s tight embrace and tiptoe your way downstairs for a cup of tea. You forgo bothering with the lights, getting enough light from the shy horizon to make your way around. You open the kitchen fridge in the hopes of finding a lemon, only to jump nearly out of your skin when a sound comes from the island behind you. 

“ Christ !” you yelped, slamming the door shut and turning to the source.

Harley laughs and takes another bite of his apple, making the same loud crunch as a moment ago. “Aw, did I scare you?”

“What is with you people and sitting in the damn dark?” you question rhetorically, walking to the end of the kitchen to turn on the lights. You tighten the short silk robe around your pajamas, standing across from him. “I was trying to surprise the old man for his birthday, which you are ruining, by the way.” he remarks, pointing a wagging finger. 

“Tony’s birthday?” you ask, confused. “I didn’t know–”

The young man interrupts with a dismissive wave as he swallows another bite. “He doesn’t like to make a ‘ thing ’ of it, don’t sweat.” He gives complimentary air quotes, sitting back in the barstool.

“Fair enough.” You turn back to the cabinets to complete your original task. Behind you, Harley’s teeth piercing the fruit fills the early morning silence, interrupted by the flicker of the stove as you heat the kettle. You feel him eyeing you the entire time but decide not to feed into this time for your own peace. 

“Thanks, by the way.” Hot water is making its way into a lilac mug when he speaks again. 

“For, y’know.” he adds when you pivot with a puzzled face.

“No, I don’t know.” you respond exasperatedly, feeling a dig coming your way. You dip the tea bag into the water, stirring as he just stares back at you. You roll your eyes and head towards the stairs, deciding for certain that conversation with that kid was pointless.

“Were you not the one who got him clean?” He waits until your feet touch the first step to say it, forcing you to pivot.

“I’m not taking credit for his life choices.”

“Fair enough.” he mimics your tone from earlier with a gentle shrug. 

With that, you leave and retreat back upstairs.

The lukewarm tea slides down your throat with better ease in the bedroom. Tony continues to sleep beside you as the sun greets the sky, until you're drifting off too.. 

When you rise again, the chaotic rumbling of the city drifts up and through the windows in full force. You stretch out slowly, tuning into the sound of Tony’s voice and staticky music from the bathroom. You flip over to the source, seeing Tony at the sink fixing a slender graphite tie to his neck. Quiet as a mouse and far too comfortable to leave the silk sheets, you simply observe through the open door. Unaware to his spectator, he continues half-singing half-muttering  verse after verse of Back in Black . You have to stifle a giggle–not in judgment but in adoration. You didn’t think Tony Stark would belt rock lyrics as he cursed his hair for not blow drying exactly how he wanted. 

Eventually, he spots your watchful eyes, after he secures chrome cufflinks and stoops down to straighten his pants. You smile when you realize you're caught. 

“Hopefully you’re enjoying the show.” he grins, exiting the bathroom as he loops a thick leather belt around his waist. 

“It’s alright, could have better acoustics.” you taunt. 

Tony feigns offense as he kneels on the bed beside you. The soft mattress doesn’t make a sound for his weight to settle over top of you. Suddenly beneath him, cypress aftershave and evergreen shampoo drown out your senses. You know he’s not doing this to turn you on, it’s a byproduct of his nature–but now you just want to ruin the hair you watched him spend five minutes perfecting.

“Anyone else would be appreciative to AC/DC , or is that beyond your generation?” Tony asks, bracing an arm beside your head to fiddle with a free strand of hair. 

“I worked in a dive bar–think I know dad rock when I hear it.”

“Ouch.” he winces, a short chuckle following after. 

“Hey, never said it was bad.” you add, and he gives you a questionable hmm in response.

You’re fixated on the way his body compresses your own–the texture of his thumb on your face.

 “Happy birthday, by the way.” you say after a moment of silence. To this he stiffens, his gentle expression changing in the same way. 

“Hmm, guess that is today.” he muses. 

“I take it you haven’t been downstairs yet, then.” you say, thinking of Harley. Tony groans you curse the loss of his weight as he stands. 

“Nope, and I already know the kid’s down there raiding my refrigerator and getting crumbs everywhere.” There’s a strong disdain in his voice, reminding you of the phone call a few weeks ago.

He disappears back to the bathroom, swiping a watch from the granite sink. You stay silent in the airy cloud of sheets, tongue dancing behind your teeth. Clearly, a moment of silence is too telling for Tony. While you're fixated on the ceiling, he creeps back into the room, startling you when he hits the bed once more.

“You want him gone, say the word.” he declares, playfully. You’re barely listening, or really even bothered to think about Harley. It’s hard to concentrate on anything other than the fact that he’s  just hovering over you and not crushing you into the mattress or kissing you or –

Your train of thought is derailed when a hand laces behind your neck, fingers settling at your nape and a thumb below your chin. Tony smirks when your eyes flicker to his, increasing the pressure with his thumb until your lips part for air.

“I believe I asked you a question, doll.” He relents for a moment, only enough for your throat to strain as you answer.

“I don’t mind.” you whisper, letting your legs graze his suit pants. There was a small hope the cool fabric would soothe the warmth breaking out on your skin, but the itch just drives you insane.

“Good.” Tony releases his grip to plant a kiss on your forehead. In the next breath, his feet touch the floor again and you contemplate if the lost pride is worth begging him to touch you. 

You don’t get a chance to decide, as he gives some short winded promise about returning before the afternoon and exits the bedroom.

After a frustrating shower, and against both Harley and Jarvis’ better judgment (and very stern insistences), you decide to do something nice for Tony’s birthday. Well, as nice as you can without spending his own money.

It takes the better half of the day, and you have to ban a persistently nosy frat kid from the studio the entire time. You feel guilty about not knowing sooner. Then, you maybe would’ve pulled off something more his style. And then maybe like the finished product. It feels, and honestly, looks rushed (because it is), but in the end you feel worse about giving him nothing after all he’s done for you. 

It’s a small canvas–easy enough for you to carry down the spiral stairs without breaking an ankle. It’s a quarter to three when you make the final stroke. Once you’ve managed to get the stained ink from your fingers, voices start to flood from downstairs. You manage to do a half-decent job wrapping, which gets you way too excited to gift it. Sure, you’d given art as presents to friends before, but not since you were 10 and those were C-tier cards at best. This wasn’t your best work, though it still gave you the same sense of love. 

You call out Tony’s name as you head downstairs, hearing his and Harley’s voices echo from the living room. The muffled words are sharp and tense. You don’t notice the third voice over theirs, or the thud of the feet. You don’t even see her until you enter the space. 

“Well, who do we have here, Tone’?” Two rows of perfect porcelain teeth gleam at you over Tony’s shoulder.

He turns to you the moment she speaks, brows tighter than a steel drum and fists tight by his side. Harley stifles his chuckle behind the kitchen island. 

Silence pulls new red heat to your cheeks. The living embodiment of every insecurity you’d forgotten stood ten feet away in Louboutin heels. Tony’s stories painted enough of a picture of a flawless woman. Actually seeing her, now that was new territory. Her strawberry blonde locks were meticulously curled, in a mauve dress without a single wrinkle in sight. You felt embarrassed with your undone hair,  in stained clothes and matching ink-ridden hands. 

You start an equally embarrassing stammer of your name, to which Tony interrupts.

“Nope, not a chance.” He meets your eyes with fire before turning back to Pepper. “How the hell did you get up here–Actually, I don’t even want to know. Leave now.” 

Pepper grins like they're old friends catching up. You feel like you shouldn’t be witness to whatever this is, awkwardly holding the canvas.

“Aw, Tony ,” she drags out with a click of her tongue. A slender hand reaches down into a thin leather briefcase, placing an envelope on the island. “Just thought I’d give you your present in person.”

“An email would have sufficed.” He grits.

“Well that wouldn’t be very polite, hm?” She cocks her head like it’s a serious question. 

“Exit is directly behind you.” 

Some quippy remark brews and dies on her tongue. A small glance is spared your way again, before she leaves.

Tony doesn’t move until the whir of the elevator starts. Harley clears his throat and retreats to the back hallway without another word.

“Tony–” you call out as he passes you for the stairs. He grants you a dismissive wave that cuts you short and swells your throat. All but stomping he makes his way up the stairs, leaving you alone with all the tension they left behind.

The white envelope goes unattended. Tony didn’t bother with it, but you do. Setting your gift against the stair railing, you tiptoe over to it. It’s unsealed–a solitary white letter tucked away. The ornate New York State emblem is a pale distraction for the words below. 

ᴜɴᴄᴏɴᴛᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴘᴇᴛɪᴛɪᴏɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴅɪᴠᴏʀᴄᴇ 

An agreement for complete dissolution separation of any and all assets for both parties.

Signed by Pepper Potts in midnight ink.

[m1sa-w1sa]

What do you think about my headcannons for characters who fit this song and who would you add

https://www.tumblr.com/ninjacomix/754842802243928064/but-ill-always-be-watching-cause-im-forever?source=share

(so i havent really listened to it in a while but i feel like blade would be a good choice, and hear me out)

TW:

Yandere Themes, slight talk of gore, Lil angst, not proofread, this is pretty long, brainrot?

Yandere HC for BLADE (Sahsrau and Reincarnation/One sided love au)

REINCARNATION/ONE-SIDED LOVE AU

•Before when you and blade were together, he was, happy something that he cannot say he is now

•He told you not to go out in the blizzard, you PROMISED him that you would be okay… •Your body silhouette, slowly walking towards him, crystal tears, trembling body hurt him •Catching you in his arms wasnt enough, kissing your lips one last time, once he pulled back, your eyes were dull… •Seeing your dead cold body, in the snow, your lips parted and slightly having a blue hue to them made his heart ache •Years, Decades has pasted, his S/O dying hasnt made him the same, until he saw you.. •It was you… his perfect darling.. his pain, his internal debt, washing away once he saw you, no his DARLING •Hes not the one for small talk but ye went up to you, starting up a chat, you two clicked almost immediately! •You wondered how did he know so much? When you asked, he said he ‘ assumed ‘ because he liked the hobbies and interests that you did too •That leading you both to become friends, very good friends, he saw you like his S/O, well I mean.. you ARE his S/O right? •When he confessed, he was thinking you would say yes, just like before, but you didnt. No… no no no! This isnt supposed to happen! Your supposed to love him back! •He left without a trace, you were confused, you tried to get him back but he didnt come back.. •You always felt someone watching you, but you were right, blade kept watching you from the sidelines, haunting you like a ghost •He didnt try to talk to you again… not yet, he waited and waited so long, watching and haunting you like a ghost, like a leopard creeping up on its prey •Any types of dating you tried to have the person would never come, theres something driving them away, was it you? Maybe you shouldnt have rejected blade.. •Seeing you second guess brought a long awaited smile to his face, no a smirk as he would walk up behind you, his hand on your shoulder, The two of you knew, after this, you might not see the light of day again •Maybe you just dont remember! You just need to snap back! Dont worry sweetheart! Your boyfriend will help you! Just like always, soon he will have you in his arms again, only HE WILL

SAHSRAU

•You just started playing Hsr when blades rerun came out, you thought he was pretty! So you pulled on him with your last golden ticket! •Surprise Surprise! You got him, you were so happy, giggling and clapping, when you opened his character menu complimenting him on his looks, voice, weapon, fighting skills, not thinking he heard you… Oh how cute you were… •To say the least, he was surprised when he heard you, he rolled his eyes, he knew what THOSE people thought of him… it was disgusting to him… •But overtime, you staying up hours just to get him up to level, he slowly started to grow attached. When you least expect it he was always watching you, more than you were watching him •He asked silver wolf, half asleep to make his phone be able to chat with yours, she didnt care she just did it asking him to leave so she would sleep •Anytime you would try to pull for someone else, he would always rig it, he thought it was… interesting cute when you were said when you didnt get the 50/50, its alright! You have blade still and you still love him.. right? •When he had ahold of more of your info, selfies, files, now your number he was going internally feral but also more defensive of his phone your HIS no one else needs to know that you exist… •He knows that you still have school/work so he pretended that he was someone that you met at school/work •For some reason, the feeling he has, it makes him feel happy, warm, maybe love? When you screen comes in contact with him, his eyes slightly look to the camera smiling ever so slightly •You thinking it was a easter egg you were smiling back as you were excited as well knowing that made him love you more •IF YOU DESCENDED no one knew, you hardly had any other characters, the only people who had a suspicion was Trailblazer, Dan Heng, March 17, Himiko, Welt, Pompom, Kafka and silver wolf, other than them no one really had the idea •Knowing that just made this easier for blade, just coming up and swooping you into his arms, I mean… you can give him this just one.. right your grace?

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

I read GRRM’s interview regarding book vs show canon and I thought the way he was approaching an adaptation of his own story, and fiction as a whole, was very interesting. I do wonder though - does the concept of having a separate show canon kind of become like a cop-out? Because in that case, any TV/film adaptation can just decide to change the plot as they see fit and go “oh, well, that’s our canon, the book is a different canon.” Doesn’t it cease to be an adaptation after a point, or at least become a loose one? In the HotD context, a lot of the changes being made I actually quite like because I can see them fitting in the canon, because there’s nothing suggesting otherwise.

But say, Sansa marrying Ramsay (or, alternatively, the moment that show was dead to me) we can say with absolute certainty did not take place and will almost definitely never take place. D&D knew that too but they went ahead with it anyway; it’s not quite like the Scarlett example where it makes no difference to the story because this change does. I feel like the whole point of adapting written words into something visual loses some of its sanctity if we just accept TV changes a whole separate canon, as opposed to simply a change made by the writers (good change or bad change is up to personal opinion).

I have followed your blog for almost a decade so I’m really curious to hear your thoughts on the subject.

GRRM's "Scarlett example" -- his question of "how many children did Scarlett O'Hara have?", because in the book Gone With the Wind she had three, one with each of her three husbands, whereas in the movie she only had one -- has been his go-to when asked about the difference between book and show canon since at least 2012. Or to quote him from 2015,

How many children did Scarlett O’Hara have? Three, in the novel. One, in the movie. None, in real life: she was a fictional character, she never existed. The show is the show, the books are the books; two different tellings of the same story.

This is IMO one of the most sensible ways for an author to look at adaptations of their work (even if I have gotten rather tired of GRRM using the Scarlett example specifically, pick something different George, we've seen it before lol). There is book canon and there is show canon. They are different parallel universes. They're separate canons because they contain changes made by the writers, and also because the very process of moving from the written word to visual media must involve some kind of change.

And this applies to all adaptations. That's why I brought up X-Men comics vs the Fox X-Men movies vs the X-Men cartoon (original 90s and 2024's '97). For example, there's 4 different versions of the Dark Phoenix Saga between those canons, at the very least. Wait, sorry lol, I forgot the Ultimate canon version. And the various in-comics alternate universe versions. And god knows when they finally bring the X-Men into the MCU they'll probably do yet another DPS there too. And that's only one of many storylines that are radically different between the various canons.

Or look at the various Interviews with the Vampire. Is the new tv show "not an adaptation" because its Claudia is a teenager rather than 5 years old as in the book or portrayed by an 11 year old as in the movie, thus resulting in extremely different relationships and a reshaped plot? (Among many other changes?) No. IWTV has book canon, movie canon, and show canon.

And I can't speak that well about Transformers since it's not a major fandom of mine, but go take a look at their various continuities if you want some more perspective about just how very far the meaning of "adaptation" can stretch.

Or hell, look at Stephen King, where among his many many many adaptations, some of which just barely resemble the original text, the only one he sued to have his name removed from was The Lawnmower Man, because they literally used an entirely different story and just slapped his title on it.

And then there's the movie Adaptation, which is a wildly meta-adaptation of the non-fiction book The Orchard Thief (it's a story about the process of adapting that book and involves a fictional version of the writer, the screenplay writer, and an entirely invented screenplay writer's twin brother)... and it was nominated for Best Adapted Screenplay for multiple film awards (and won a few times), and the original writer even said it kept to the book's themes.

Suffice it to say, HOTD has a long, long, long way to go before it could ever "cease to be an adaptation after a point". Changing the timeline to make Alicent and Rhaenyra the same age, or doing Blood & Cheese differently, do not even compare to what some book-to-visual media "loose adaptations" have done. Even GOT, as wildly terrible as their non-book storylines could be, both their changes to the text and after they had no actual text to work with, never became a "loose adaptation". Certainly it became a less than faithful adaptation -- and let's be real, it always was unfaithful for both themes and the essential elements of so many characters -- but it also always was a remarkably accurate adaptation of the whole span of Westeros (in geography and breadth of characters) and the general (not specific) book plot. (Consider previous attempts at adaptation that GRRM rejected, such as a single 2 hour movie, or eliminating Jon and Dany for being "irrelevant", or only making a Jon movie with none of the other storylines, etc.) Which is why, when GOT was different (and awful) it was such a betrayal, like a zombie or evil alien wearing the skin of your best friend or beloved child, and worse, that this twisted lookalike was the only version millions and millions of viewers ever saw and believed to be true.

But again, this just underlines what GRRM has said. "The show is the show, the books are the books." There is book canon and there is show canon. They are separate things. Parallel universes -- very close parallels, often touching in many places, but sometimes they're quite different. Sometimes the differences in adaptation enhance the themes of the original canon; sometimes the author may even consider certain adapted characters (Shae, King Viserys, Helaena) to be better than his original canon; sometimes you know there's only those tricky NDAs (and payments of lots of money) that prevent him from expressing his disappointment in more ways than dropping the Sansa TWOW preview chapter only days before the release of GOT S5. But perhaps if we're lucky, maybe one day we'll have yet another parallel canon to compare to the others.

[chiiimchar]

Hello! Your isat siblings au is very good and now has me wondering about how stuff like Sif's wish might play out differently since they're not so horribly isolated. How do they end up thinking about discovering that they're an Islander if they've grown up more constantly reminded of their memory problems (the people who taught him vaugardian are people he's still living and traveling with)?

Unrelated but brain still whirring, do you think the way Sif and Bonny end up joining the party would end up looking different?

i explained the islander thing a few asks ago, but its because nille noticed they were! nille was also a teen when the island dissapeared, and, in the game, shes the one who taught bonnie how big of a deal it was! so of course she'd know. she's from the northern coast, after all :3 (im still figuring out sif's wish btw)

about how they meet the party, though! i was writing that scene just a few days ago, so i'll put that under a readmore :3

"It's fine, we're fine, Bug-"

Bonnie pushed weakly at Siffrin's arms, a pout in their face, "You keep saying that, but you look like crab, Frin."

The cloaked one sighed, "Language."

Bonnie huffed. Siffrin smiled.

He stared at the road ahead, and fixed Bonnie's position so they wouldn't fall, and continued walking.

It had been days (weeks? close to a month? he'd lost count and despite all of his "progress" he still couldn't bring himself to ask Bonnie for help with this one) since they'd had to run from Bambouche, and while he liked to think himself a capable adult, the sudden change to traveling on his own after living comfortably with Nille and Bonnie for almost a decade, now, had thrown them for a loop.

They were hungry, tired, and stressed. He had managed to keep Bonnie fed well enough, but he didn't risk staying anywhere for too long, fearing the curse catching up to them.

Catching up to him, and leaving Bonnie alone, like it had caught up to Nille. Catching up to Bonnie-

He tried not to think too hard.

His legs shook with every step. Bonnie was not too heavy for them to carry, of course not, but they were exhausted.

He set them down.

“Frin?” Bonnie asked, tilting their head.

“Break time.” He stated, slumping down next to them.

Bonnie nodded easily, laying their head on his shoulder, “Do you think.. that we will find a clean town?”

Clean town, dirty town… That’s how they’d taken to differentiating curse affected towns from normal ones. Bonnie had come up with it.

They were yet to find a clean town.

“Maybe. But only after tomorrow, Bug.” There was no use promising a certain date, but wording it like that was kinder, he thought.

“You think so?”

Siffrin smiled. “Yeah, for sure, Bon.”

He'd just had to make sure to word it differently, next time.

Then, suddenly, out of the corner of their eye...

They rested there for a few minutes. The forest was not quiet, as wind was picking up, making the leaves rustle loudly.

A sadness. Paper type, by the looks of it.

They hurried to stand so they could pick Bonnie and run, but…

Three people were fighting it.

Well.. fighting it seemed like a stretch. It looked like they were struggling against it, in Siffrin's personal opinion.

Really struggling. One of them was K.O.’d, the other looked like a rock type, and the other…

He swallowed. He looked at Bonnie, who was dozing off in his arms, and made a decision.

"Bon, hey," he nudged them, and they turned to him, "Stay here for a sec, I will be right back, okay?"

Bonnie blinked, and nodded, their eyes full of trust.

Siffrin smiled, patted their shoulder.

Then, he lunged forward.

"AH!!" One of the strangers exclaimed, and fell back in surprise. He ignored him, and attacked the sadness with their favorite attack, and exclaimed:

"Knife to meet you!" as they attacked.

He fell on his feet, the sadness poofing behind him, and he huffed a shaky breath. He then turned to the strangers, an easy smile on his face, "Hello," he waved.

They stared silently for a few seconds.

The one in the middle- a girl- smiled wide, and reached forward to grab their hand, "Hello! Thank you so much for your help!" She beamed.

Siffrin jolted a bit from the sudden contact, but smiled back, "It was, uh, it was no problem!"

One of the other two who were hanging back, an older lady, nodded along, "Yes, thank you." She said, looking out of breath, "That sadness..."

"Was tough! Really tough!" The other person exclaimed, "I could barely get a hit in!"

"Good thing I took it by surprise then-" Siffrin said, turning back his head to look for Bonnie, "I- nice to meet you, really, but-"

"Wait, wait, wait!" The girl said, not letting go of his hand, "Quest! We're on a quest, to stop the king's curse!!"

Siffrin turned back to her quickly at that, "The... curse? Like the freezing?"

"Yes!" She beamed, "And you seem strong! Won't you join us?"

Siffrin blinked, gaping a little, "Me?"

"Yes, you!" The girl insisted.

"I-" They paused, thinking. If they could help them... then, Nille...

"Okay, I'll help!" He said resolutely.

The man behind the girl put a hand on her shoulder, "Mira! Won't you introduce us?" 

She blushed, "Right! I'm Mirabelle, I'm immune to the King's curse! He," She pointed to the man, "Is Isabeau, and she," She pointed to the lady who was still catching her breath, "Is Madame Odile! What's your name?"

Siffrin smiled, "I'm Siffrin- and I have my little sibling with me back there," He pointed back to the bushes with his thumb, and took a step back, "I'll uh, be right back?"

Mirabelle's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Oh! Oh, uh! Sure!"

He quickly ran back to his sibling, trying to calm his still racing heart, "Bonnie, you can come out now." He said, pushing aside a bush.

Bonnie's head popped up behind it, "Was that a sadness?" They asked, "I heard people. Did we find a town?"

Siffrin ruffled their hair, making them groan playfully, "No, but I did find some nice people who say they're gonna stop the freezing."

Bonnie stood up, surprised, "REALLY?"

He smiled, "Yes, really! They want us to tag along, what do you think?" He asked gently, already knowing the answer.

"CRAB YEAH!" Bonnie exclaimed, excited, "Nille- she- she's gonna be okay!!!" They smiled a toothy grin, relieved.

Siffrin nodded, patting their shoulder, "Yeah, yeah."

He took their hand in theirs, and walked back to Mirabelle's party. They ignored how tired they felt, and gave everyone a easy smile.

Chin up, Siffrin. You've got a sister to save.