#tw detailed description of pain

[blueberryarchive]

RECORDING (+18)

Were you move in to Montenegro Hills. A peaceful neighborhood with caring neighbors and walking dogs at 6pm.

The night of the welcome party, you meet Park Jimin: the president of the neighborhood committee. After a few shots and a little bit of flirting, he makes a proposal you thought you'll never hear from anyone in your life.

▶pairing; stalker!jimin x fem!reader

▶word count; 13.4k

▶genre: 80's au, enemies and lovers, thriller

▶tw; grammar mistakes (english is not my first language), horny!jimin all the way, your boy Hoseok it's a freak too, gore scenes (blood, wounds, death, descriptions of pain and bodily fluids), toxic relationship, smut (dub-con/non-con, penetration, knife play, degrading names, manhandling, spanking, fingering, choking, mating position) everyone in here is a piece of shit ngl, misogyny, mentions of drugs and alcohol.

▶playlist; 📼

Record, the verb, comes from the word cor or cord in Latin, which means heart or remember, which in itself is beautiful. To repeat over and over again, to keep track of it, to save it in the memory. Save is one of his favorite words to describe what he does. Salvus as in to keep safe, in both senses. 

There's nothing more precious to him than his collection of VHS tapes in the little room in the hall. All were put in alphabetical order and cleaned every Friday when he was free from work.

To watch every movie again and again, to remember the little details to heart, the dialogues, the gestures; he loved it. He loved taking care of it.

Now, it was Friday and, you see, as he was in the row from D to H, he heard one of the most precious pieces close the door abruptly of her Ford Cortina, just right outside of his house. He walked slowly through the hall of the rather dark place, the curtains were closed most of the time. His neighbors took it for privacy. 

Jimin was a very quiet and sheltered man, but he was very polite and helpful. Always there in Montenegro's activity programs, charity funds, birthdays, and Christmas parties. He helped with the food, made the kids laugh, and the wives adored him. Jimin was the best neighbor, and he worked hard for it. 

As he moved closer, his finger brushed the hem of the curtain in the living room, letting the sunlight paint a streak across his face. His eye settled on your feet, more like the heels. Who moved in with heels on?

You were wearing slingback pumps and a little pencil skirt, coming straight from work. Tired and all sweaty in the middle of the summer, when people remember why they don't like the heat in the first place. Jimin enjoyed it. It made people come out of their houses and forage for a little bit of shadow and conversation.

The white blouse you wore, had a little white bow that made you look like a dainty Victorian doll. The translucent blobs forming under your armpits were beginning to drip sweat down the sides of your ribs. You took a small carry-on suitcase from the co-pilot and closed the door putting on your dark, cat-shaped sunglasses. Chanel, so you also had money. The prices in Montenegro are not cheap by any means, but the people here are all so subtle in the ways they show it, with guilt and tight lips. But you weren't afraid to show that you could afford things, that maybe you loved the sound of pearls on your wrists and the sweet smell of Angel by Mugler on your clothes.

If he wasn't in his pajamas, Jimin would have opened his door to introduce himself just to let his nose feel the pleasure of your aroma in that heat.

Jimin knew that you were going fast and that you didn't want anyone to know about your arrival until you were in better condition. He looked at his wristwatch, it was barely five in the afternoon, and he didn't know if there was time. 

One way or the other.

He grabbed the corded phone near his couch and plopped down crossing his legs. With one hand he dialed a number so quickly that his fingers seemed to move automatically.

With the other, he searched for a roll in his work suitcase. It took less than the ringing of the call to put the film into the camera, a '72 Olympus, a beauty that belonged to his mother.

"Mm." answered a scratchy voice, Hoseok wasn't in the mood and that wasn't a good start.

"Hoseok, I need you to convince Nancy to have a party tonight, well, maybe not tonight but-." he put the phone between his shoulder and his ear, walking to the window. You were still inside, but the Cortina door was still open.

"What do you want me to do? She won't do anything until she's six months in." Hoseok exhaled. "Why a party? Who is it this time?"

Jimin wrinkled his nose, focusing the camera just as you went out to close the door. A single suitcase of clothes, your Chanel glasses, and your blurred lipstick. You were a work of art, he had to convince Hoseok to create an excuse.

"Park," Hoseok mumbled as the bustle of his office sounded on the other end of the line.

"Let's meet the new neighbor."

"Neighbor? I haven't heard Nancy speak of a neighbor at any time."

Click, just as you close the door. Click, the strokes of your hands and your quick steps.

"I'm seeing her now."

"Now? Is she already with you?" Hoseok sounded hurt, offended. His annoyance changed to a muffled, nasal voice.

"No, I wouldn't meet anyone without you, Jung." Jimin chuckled, his cheekbones popping with the jeer in his voice. "She's in front, where the Jimenez used to live."

"Yeah, okay—You better not." Hoseok interrupted.

Jimin closed the curtain and looked at the door at the end of the hall, three locks keeping it secure.

"So will you talk to Nancy?"

"Let's see, the hormones have her in a frenzy and she still forbids me to even drink, smoke or fuck her. I'm going insane." Nancy was Hoseok's wife, she was a sweet and calm girl, she always smiled and her voice reminded Jimin a lot of Shelley Duvall. A sheep with deep black eyes, like two dark lakes. She was Hoseok's jewel. Park didn't believe how sweet Hoseok could be with her, knowing how he could be outside his bubble, he pampered her fervently and always saw her like searching for scrapes and bruises.

Jung Hoseok was the perfect husband. Handsome and caring, made everyone light up with his contagious laughs.

They were one of the most beloved couples in Montenegro. Nancy was in charge, not officially but popularly, as the person who organized the parties. They were always the best. The best-grilled meats, iced tea, and the best conversations after a mojito or two. It was in these places that Jimin caught the big fish. But since Nancy's pregnancy, things have been quiet in the Jung household.

Nancy had become paranoid, barely leaving the house, walking around the patio of her house barefoot and in nightgowns. The women of her family tended to lose pregnancies easily, and every time she had a pregnant friend, or anyone for that matter, she treated them like porcelain, hundreds of tips on how to take care came out of her heart-shaped lips.

Now that it's her turn to be the pregnant one, she doesn't wear tight clothes and doesn't go upstairs. She eats hot things if Hoseok cooks because she's afraid of the stove. She thinks that her body, due to an uncontrolled impulse, will throw itself into the flames.

Convincing her wouldn't be easy, but Jimin hadn't seen her neighbors in a while, and seeing you caused his chest to shrink with curiosity. You were attractive, even when you thought you weren't.

Hours passed without any sign of life, dead hours in which Jimin decided to work on developing the photos he had taken of you. The pungent smell of vinegar and chemicals in the small room bathed in red light. His hands covered in black latex immersed the piece of paper in the water until the image appeared like a cloud of grays: your face, your hands, your hair sweating. Such a recent memory and he had already missed it.

He held the photo closer to the hanging light bulb, it was perfect. Even though it had come out a little blurry, he told himself that it made him want to have it more, the two minutes it had taken you to get there, close the windows, take out your suitcase, and look around you were fleeting. So having a small detail, like a photograph of a bird that was believed to be extinct or that of a very distant planet. He began to be fond of your nebulous figure.

His first frame of you.

Two clamps held the material on the cord so it could finish drying. The ringing of the phone brought Jimin out of his hedonism, he didn't wait for it to ring twice. Now, the words Hoseok said as he picked up the phone made the man smile.

"Saturday, 6 p.m. At my house." God bless Hoseok's convincing tactics. He must have made up an article in the newspapers about how Boston University theorized that a lack of communication with the outside world could cause hormonal problems and even affect the psyche of the fetus.

Wait…Saturday?

"You say tomorrow? It's too early, I don't have anything prepared yet."

Hoseok laughed. "No, moron, next week."

Jimin took off his gloves, disappointed with how little effort his partner had put into his work.

"That's a whole week away."

"You should suck my dick for getting something in the next four months."

"If you weren't as useless and ate her out, you would have had it by this Sunday, at least."

Hoseok bit the inside of his cheek, twirling a pen in his fingers. His eyes were arranged in a corner of his office, and with a sigh, his legs spread out. "Describe her to me."

Jimin smiled searching for a cigarette in the kitchen, the phone in his hand, the cord jumping a little by his steps. He switched the phone to his other ear as he turned on the tip. "She's not a Maeve, she's not your typical Montenegro mom, maybe more like a workaholic like Charlie."

"Any children?" Hoseok interrupted excitedly.

"No, I don't think so. She has a very… disorganized style for being a mom."

"Divorcee?"

"I don't think this woman spent more than six months with the same man." Both men laughed, Jimin brought the cigarette to his mouth but stopped mid-action when he saw a shadow pass through the living room window. "Wait." Jimin put down the phone and walked into the hallway. The VHS were arranged, shiny and neat, on the right shelf.

They hadn't knocked on the door.

Knock, knock.

Jimin raised his shoulders tensely. It was you? Could it be true that Jimin was lucky enough to not have to poison you with chemicals until he dragged you into his bed? That he didn't need Hoseok's charms to convince you that what they were doing was sick, but he just needed a little alcohol, a little bit of will from you, too.

He walked quickly to the door and opened the handle with so much pressure that it made noise. The young girl on the other side of the door flinched, opening her eyes like a frightened bird before smiling at the man who was sweating at the front door. 

This is Cosette, for the second time this week.

If Jimin didn't know how to control himself, Cosette would have been planted in the garden serving as fertilizer a long time ago. He fervently hated teenagers, of all types: athletic ones, Star Wars fans, those who went to his movie theater to make out with their boyfriends for the three hours of the Gone With the Wind special, those who drove in their parents' Chevelle speeding through the streets; all of them. Especially those from Montenegro.

Cosette wasn't part of any of the groups mentioned, but don't let her think that Jimin hated her any less. Cosette, who had a strange taste in everything, including her social circle, was at her door. Her hair was always in a high bun, her bangs covered her forehead, a jean jacket that hid her body, and bright pink lips that made Park's eyes water.

She always carried something new with her, something for Jimin to notice and talk about. This time, she had a kerchief tied around her head colored in a nauseating green. She smiled even more when she saw that Jimin was only wearing an unbuttoned t-shirt.

He looked in the direction of your house, the curtains still closed. Shit.

"Cosette," he greeted her, pressing his lips into a smile. He refused to look at her bow so she wouldn't mention it either.

"Mr. Park, today is Friday. I wanted to bring you the films you lent me so you can clean them up and keep them organized." Her voice was tremulous as she blatantly looked at Jimin's arms and chest.

"Thank you," his eyes narrowed as he held up the stack of rectangular drawers his neighbor handed him. "I'll definitely have something by Cronenberg or Kubrick for you next week."

Cosette blushed aggressively. "Dad says Kubrick is just an excuse to watch women being-"

Her words stuck in her throat as Jimin's dark pupils sat on her features, lips slightly parted.

"It's sex, Cosette." Jimin exhaled, leaving the VHS on a table. "Nothing is going to happen to you if you see it, much less if you say it." His hand went to the girl's shoulder, her fingers curling around themselves anxiously.

"Yes, obviously. I know that. " The girl looked down, letting silence cover time. "Do you think I can help you with cleaning your collection this week?"

Jimin smiled sweetly and denied. This was Cosette's way of wanting to interfere in his life or maybe she thought something would happen if she stood in the middle of his living room and closed the door. What a poor fool, she really made him feel sorry for her. That's why he tried to find a healthier and legal connection.

Jimin lent him five movies to watch from Monday to Friday. They all had a theme: Italian horror, neosurrealism, buddy films, western, romance…

She watched them all religiously. Sometimes she even took advantage and went to the cinema to watch it even when she had the same movie at her house. Just to see Jimin.

"Sorry, darling. I already finished doing that this morning."

"Oh, I understand." Cosette nodded stupidly quickly, taking a step back. "It's okay, Mr. Park."

"See you on Monday."

Colette did not respond, raising a hand as she turned her face away to get away as quickly as possible from the shame that consumed her. A small mocking laugh appeared on Jimin's lips and he took out his hidden arm from behind the door, revealing the disintegrating cigarette.

His heart dropped to his stomach when his eyes flicked to your porch and there you were, in the same position as him. Cigarette hanging from your lips, your damp hair combed back and eyeliner singed into your dark circles.

Not at all a mother from Montenegro, not a daughter, not even the whores that the divorced men brought in looked as broken and disoriented as you. Jimin’s heart pounded when your eyes never left his as you took a drag. Smoke billowing out of your nose. You didn't smile or extend your hand to say hello like a good neighbor, instead, you looked at Jimin suspiciously, closing the door seconds later.

Jimin raised his eyebrow. What had he done? Worried, he closed the door quickly, head resting on the wood. He cursed Cosette under his breath as he walked to the phone in the kitchen.

"Hoseok?"

"Don't tell me. Marcus' little girl."

"I get a headache every time I hear her babbling."

"Don't be so cruel, she admires you a lot."

Jimin closed his eyes, your gaze had hurt his fragile ego, and he had to know why you were so hostile between two and a half puffs of your cigarette.

That week was about to be lethargy, hell, Dante's tenth circle.

Day 1

Movie in theaters: Ghostbusters The curtains are still closed, I can see your silhouette at night, and the lights you use are dim. Halogen, you like calm environments, corners covered in soft shadows. You play music from the moment you get home from work, 5:15 without fail; you usually leave it on when you leave again.  Every day, you come back with a paper bag, I assume with groceries. 5.45. You are wearing a leotard in one of those colors that Cosette likes so much. Perky titties bouncing while you take down the porch stairs;; couldn't help but take some pictures. You exercise until 6:40, then, ironically, smoke a cigarette or two in the yard. Smiling at people while pearls of sweat dribble down to your cleavage. Zuri is the first one of the committee to see you and waves her hand with curiosity. You two talk for a little. I'm here wishing I could read lips, but even with a thorough education, yours will need a whole degree only for me to concentrate on not kissing them. I go to sleep at 11:30, one glass of whiskey and half a joint I stole from Marcus months ago. I dream of eating you out through a small cut in your leotard, sweat dripping down your body to mine. You whimper, but I can't hear you.

Day 2

Movie in theaters: Friday The 13th: Part IV At 6:25 in the morning, I wake up to the sound of your heels going down the stairs to get to your car. I can't get up fast enough to see what you're wearing for me today. You accelerate quickly, you don't care if you wake up the neighbors. You don't come back all day. After work, I watch one of my films on TV until I fall asleep, Birdie's laughter drowns out my curiosity as I doze. 5:15, you're not home from work. Maybe you went out of state, considering how you dress, you seem like a busy woman. I thought about the clicking heels and imagined your foot stepping on my erection. I go outside to calm my thoughts. One thing led to another, and without knowing it I find myself in your backyard. You're not stupid, all the doors and windows are closed; curtains included. But you don't know who I am still, what I need about you.

Day 3

Movie in theaters: The Evil That Men Do 4:55. I'm at the Millers' house, they've invited me to check out their new screen and sound system. Watching a movie with them, but due to August Miller's silent decision, we ended up at the outside bar, drunk on mojitos and pina coladas that Lou Miller learned to make with a cassette he bought at the supermarket. The cocktails are very sugary, but they help clear my head. I find myself sitting steps away from Mr. Miller. I tell him I'm writing notes for a new review in the newspaper, but all I can think about is your absence all day. There is no news from you, and I am afraid that you have decided to leave the house. I don't understand, the house is adorable. Too big for one person, but the Jiménez filled it with pets and children in less than two years. It has off-white floors and large windows to let in the light. A huge patio and pool so you can indulge in leisure activities such as gardening and nudism. 00:13, you appear with your car lights off and your arms down. You carry the same paper bag in your hands, and I accidentally smile when I have your presence. I knew having a garden in your yard would convince you to come back.

Day 4

Movie in theaters: Footloose Something that my drunken brain from yesterday had forgotten to write down, that was overlooked, or that the mojitos simply erased from my memory. I managed to open a window in your backyard. Around 6, Lou Miller, in her forties, was no longer the same when drinking and it seemed she had forgotten because getting out of the pool she vomited every cocktail and every appetizer she had made for her husband and for me. Mr. Miller, due to his age and lack of exercise, had to leave the task of helping his wife up to the room to me. There, lying on the bed like some kind of rag doll passed out and with her vomit leaving a trace in her mouth, I thought of you. Maybe because this wasn't the first time a drunk and unconscious woman was in front of me or because she simply couldn't think of anything else. I went downstairs and said goodbye as decently as I could in my tipsy state. How strange it was to be drunk in the middle of a sunset. The days seem long and with you absent, God knows I need to at least get something that reminds me of you. You made things so difficult for me but I appreciated the detail, seriously. It's been a while since I enjoyed taking out my tools to open doors. People in Montenegro take security so lightly that I don't know how there hasn't been a massive burglary in every house. My arms wobbled and my cheeks burned. Half an hour later, I could hear the click that took me to your kitchen. I didn't do anything else, things had to go little by little between us, and I was willing to take it slowly for you. You're worth it.

Day 5

The night passed me like a breeze, it hit me like a stone on my temples. The nauseating taste of alcohol and sugar on my palate. Surely my face was swollen and that wouldn't help my next plan. The mirror showed me dark circles and short red marks on my ribs and chest. Going over your fences left me like shit. I put on some sunglasses and walked to my garden, I had been negligent with my roses and grass since your arrival. I had to make a good impression, and that was the first thing you saw of me. And this is where my conversion to religion begins. The first thing I hear is those low heels, the red ones you wore the first day, then Poison by Dior collided on my sensitive, hungover nose. That aroma was so familiar, maybe Zuri or maybe on Marcus's ex's boudoir. The conversation was like out of nowhere passing through the thin fresh humidity of a cloud, I remember nothing but the white and the voice of a seraphic being speaking to me.

"Don't you think it's pretty cloudy?" It was the first thing you let out of your angelic lips. Jimin closed his eyes and let a small shy smile appear as he turned around.

You had your hair back, revealing your entire face while you squeezed your eyes shut looking at the sky. A steaming mug in hand, a floral dress that almost reached your knees.

"Good mor-"

"For sunglasses, I mean." You interrupted, bringing the cup to your mouth. Chocolate, he smelled. You weren't one to drink coffee in the morning, noted.

"I try not to let my neighbors understand how hungover I am this morning."

You weren't one of the shy ones, he knew it from the moment you looked at him talking to Cosette and he loved that. You weren't wearing a ring either, noted.

You laughed at your neighbor's confession, Park's chest widened as he inhaled the sweet melody of your laughter. What if he confessed more things to you and you ended up fucking your hungover neighbor in the garage?

"Park," he raised his hand, and you raised yours squeezing lazily while still looking at him. "Jimin Park, I'm the president of the neighborhood committee, I also write reviews for The Hours."

"Good representation of what awaits me on Saturday."

Jimin raised his eyebrow at him. He was supposed to be the one inviting you, he would come to your door with good wine and his expensive perfume on to ask you to crash a party a couple of doors down, something "impromptu."

"Ah yes, that." Park licked his lips turning off the sprinkler.

“Aren’t you going?” Was that disappointment in your voice? Oh, honey...

"It wouldn't be a party without me"

"I see that." You pointed to his glasses again. The third joke about his hangover, you were nervous.

You just looked for an excuse to see him closer, and he had to respect your courage, it would have taken him a few more weeks, and after that, he ended things quickly after convincing his... how to put it? Muse? To leave it as it is.

"Well, I have to go, Park, but it was a pleasure. See you Saturday night."

"At the Jung's house, at 8."

You smirked, your eyes taking one more scan of the boy's body before turning around and walking to your car. Your hips moved soft and firm with each step, you worked for it and he appreciated it.

Continuation of Jimin's diary. Day 5: Page crumpled and torn from the small notebook. Attached with adhesive tape.

Yes, yes, yes. I know I should have waited at least half an hour for you to leave the area to go to the back door, but seeing you up close, smelling you, and hearing your voice. They were simply the last stop on my patience. I was walking through the small forest behind your house, the path was muddy under my boots and the sky threatened to break into thick drops. I prayed that it was true so that it would cover up the evidence of yesterday and today. I opened the door again with ease and entered your kitchen, closing the door softly. You still had things in boxes and my hands were tingling to open them, but I'm smarter than that. I didn't waste time and went up to your room. I came for something, then when you invite me to dinner or watch a movie I can have the pleasure of admiring your home. I looked in the drawers, under the bed, and in the closet. Here is the list of things I took that I know you would only assume were lost in the move: a red lipstick from the Besame brand, some used black panties with a small bow in the center, a white photo of you and black, a key that I found under a chest full of rings. I have no reason to take a key without knowing what it is for, but the ribbon covered in river pearls from which it hung was so delicate that I smiled thinking of you decorating something so simple. Now, I write these pages because I have arrived safely at my desk, with all things in hand. But I must say that you gave me a tremendous scare when you arrived at the house without the vehicle. I heard banging downstairs, and the hissing of keys. Luckily I was able to escape out the window that looked right into the pine trees behind the neighborhood. I spent another hour walking around the steep path, admiring how the thick, century-old trunks swallowed me up. As I predicted, the sky turned black. The last rains of September cleaned everything I left behind. I put my hands inside my pocket and took out the panties that I had wrapped delicately. I opened them like a letter as the rain soaked my body and the fabric in my hands further. I brought its center to my face and inhaled deeply, letting my back fall onto a log. Pungent and strong was your taste, I gripped the material in my teeth as I desperately undid my pants. It's the first time I've tasted you and I couldn't contain myself for long, the rain drowning out my moans as whitish streams fell on the wet earth.

There is no collection from day 6, a simple crumpled sheet, previously wet with an unidentified liquid (among the possibilities tears, stolen perfume, human remains), marked with a lipstick that Jimin wrote with hearts in the 'i's.

If there was something that surprised Jimin every time, it was the way Nancy could prepare a party in such a short time. Her backyard became a show under incandescent light bulbs and freshly cut grass.

Jimin stepped on the silage with guilt because of how perfect it was. He looked at his white suede shoes, removing a leaf that settled on them. He wanted to be impeccable. He had cut his hair past his ears and was wearing jeans and a T-shirt tight on his arms and chest with the words: 'LOVE 1984' by Yves Saint Laurent. His biceps were something to talk about and Nancy didn't let it go unnoticed.

"Is there anyone special coming today, Park?" Her honeyed and soft voice approached Jimin, offering him the first cocktail of the night. Unlike Mrs. Miller's, Nancy's coconut mojitos were the best.

"I don't know, that's the wonderful thing about your parties. The last one the Bee Gees didn't come through that door because Jung wouldn't let you pay for it." They both laughed.

"Well, I wouldn't say the Bee Gees." She thought about it, maybe he would bring them next summer. "Cher, I love Cher. I know a friend from college who has her number."

"For God's sake, Nan."

Jimin smiled again, looking at Nancy's profile: her face was as delicate as her voice. Her hooked nose curved gently and her lips pursed, seeing what else he could arrange before the others arrived. Her hand unconsciously caresses her visibly bulging stomach.

"Do you know what it is?"

Nancy's eyes sparkled at the mention of her fetus. She denied it.

"Zuri is planning to hold a small celebration for me to tell me my gender in a few days."

"Ah, another party. This is where Sonny and Cher show up to say she's a girl."

Hoseok came out wearing an apron that blatantly said 'Kiss the Cook' and a pile of bloody, seasoned meats on a plate. The grill in front of him waved a nice heat as the first piece sizzled.

"You know I can't live without a good celebration." Nancy stepped back, gravitating away from the heat of the fire. "I'm going to see if I can help Lucy with the canapes."

Nancy turned around smiling an apology at Jimin who reciprocated. Without wasting time, he pulled a Marlboro out of his jeans and approached Hoseok, enjoying the warmth that covered his torso. Hoseok held a piece of bright red charcoal and brought it close to his partner's cigarette until he lit it.

"She did it again, the patio is beautiful."

"You know my Nana just needed a good excuse." Hoseok smiled, holding up the cigarette to take a drag. "Ever since I mentioned there was a new single woman in the neighborhood, they went crazy."

"Have you seen her yet?" He was somewhat suspicious that Hoseok had beaten him to invite her to his barbecue. Make no mistake, the party was the Jungs', but the purpose of the party was so that Jimin could meet you. The plan didn't work unless Jimin said it was going to happen, Hoseok was part of them but only as a proxy.

Luckily for Jimin, Hoseok shook his head in disappointment, looking at the grill.

"I heard she looked like a slut waiting to get paid for a blowjob on the sidewalk in a yellow leotard."

"Pink." Jimin interrupted, irritated by the words, sipping the mojito until he finished it. "Who told you that? Zuri?"

The day Jimin saw them talking, Zuri was wearing a friendly smile and you two had a small conversation.

"No, of course not. Zuri just said that she came home from the gym and the others-"

"Maeve," Jimin mumbled, setting the glass aside.

Hoseok smiled. "You know this happens to everyone who arrives, it happened to me and Nancy, to Marcus, to the Espositos for being Catholic in a place like Montenegro."

Christopher Esposito was a father at St. Eliam's Chapel, a small white building where few in the neighborhood went. It was California and people only believed in themselves. But, of course, Nancy had to invite them. Well, religion is not religion at the end of the day, but status.

Coming back to you.

"She is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. But not beautiful in the aesthetic sense, there is something about her eyes."

Like you know something Jimin doesn't.

Hoseok raised his eyebrows at him flipping the cuts.

"Fuck, she has you in the palm of her hand."

Jimin denied listening to the commotion coming in and talking inside the house. "Tonight I will be the one who will have it in mine."

There you were, in a black high-necked dress and black boots. You smiled at everyone and shook your hand.

For a second, when Jimin brought his cigarette to his lips, you looked at him. He to you. Both smiled before each one went back to his work.

Let the show begin.

Glasses slowly piled up on the wooden table that Nancy had impeccably decorated about four hours ago, plates with bones and half-eaten vegetables.

The music was loud but the voices shouting stories from the past about alcoholism and deranged adolescence were even louder.

Jimin was sitting next to the unlit grill, the subtle smell of burning charcoal and meat had him nauseous. He brought his knuckles to his lower lip as he watched you talking to Hoseok and Nancy, an impeccable smile on your lips, you looked like a little angel; anyone would steal you from that place. 

Several of the husbands had taken a glance or two at your legs and swallowed your flirtatious, drunken laughter. You only drank wine and the tinted mark of alcohol covered your lips. So kissable and unattainable.

Hoseok had already taken a look at your hands, they were one of his favorite features. Luckily for him, your hands were decorated with rings and varnish the color of the wine you drank.

Nancy laughed at a joke you said, you blinked slowly looking at the woman in front of you with the concentration that only being drunk gives you. Hoseok looked back and nodded at Jimin. It was time.

"Could you get our guest another glass of wine, love?" Hoseok took your glass and Nancy nodded still laughing at the story you told her about your childhood.

Hoseok placed a hand on your back guiding you through the people. You let him, who knew that a couple of drinks could give you so much fluidity?

Still, you felt this tickling in your neck since you arrived.

"Are you enjoying the party?" Hoseok was one of those men that you watched your friend marry and sometimes you wished you had that kind of stability. Nice, he made you laugh, he protected you.

You nodded to the question.

"I'll introduce you to a few committee members, they're excited to meet you."

They both made way for a blonde woman with eyes so blue that you couldn't stop looking at them throughout the conversation, the green shadow on her eyelids was so singed that it looked like a healing bruise.

"This is Maeve."

"Oh, dear, welcome." Her body felt tense in the hug she offered you.

When she let you go, she once again engineered that smile that seemed to hurt her to extend. You looked where her gaze was guided: two children dressed alike were running around near the pool.

"Come back here." She murmured, pointing to the area where the other children were.

"Maeve is in charge of children's events and birthdays. She is an artist."

"Oh, Hoseok, please." Maeve rolled her eyes at her enjoying the compliment. "Why didn't you bring your children, dear?"

"I don't have any, work won't let me." You smiled. Maeve raised her eyebrows.

"And your husband, he also works a lot? He should have at least stopped by to say hello-"

"There is no husband either."

Hoseok licked his lips enjoying the shock on Maeve's face.

"Oh okay." She laughed softly, fixing his pearl necklace. "I mean, things aren't like they used to be." Maeve sought support from Hoseok. You also looked at the man next to you who almost choked in his drink.

"America," Hoseok explained, taking a swig of brandy that made his nose wrinkle.

"God, yes. It's like it doesn't belong to the man anymore." You laughed hard, you didn't know where so much energy came from but you were static, you could feel every look and every touch.

Every look.

"California has become Sodom in just ten years."

"Oh, there's Zuri and Charlie!"

Hoseok grabbed your arm and dragged you away from Maeve's quips. Two women were sitting near the pool, the black woman fixed her glasses and continued the conversation. Her hands were intertwined with the brunette's in front of her. You didn't want to interrupt but Hoseok didn't give you time.

"This is Zuri and Charlie Munson."

The hairs on the back of your neck perked up as you heard another voice behind you. You couldn't tilt your head because the two women stopped to shake your hand. He was just who you wanted to see.

"You came," you mumbled to Jimin as you squeezed the taller girl's hand. She was beautiful.

"Charlie, this is our new neighbor." Jimin placed both hands on your shoulders, massaging discreetly. You were breathing hard as you tried to hide a smile. The pads of his fingers hit the tense spots.

Charlie was tall, the square glasses covering half of her face. Seeing Jimin, her calm expression soured. You gave her your hand and smiled at Zuri who stood behind her like a little girl.

"Charlie's a lawyer, in case you one day end up getting a DUI like me." Jimin laughed, you didn't know if it was a joke. If you saw Zuri's reaction, yes. If you saw Charlie's, well he had simply said that he ran over a child or something.

"Zuri is-"

"I already met Zuri on one of my outings to my patio."

"Oh perfect." You smelled divine and the brandy was starting to feel like the plan could go well without the help...no, in fact, without Jung's presence.

"I work for Martines & Sons," Charlie spoke again.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise still with Charlie's hand in yours.

"Martines & Sons, you're not just any lawyer then. I know one of the sons, David has told me a lot about you." You responded. Charlie smiled proudly, fixing her glasses. Was that blush Jimin saw on Charlotte Munson's cheekbones? Oh, you were a top whore, you flirted with Charlie in front of her own wife and poor Zuri didn't notice.

You and Charlie lasted a short silence smiling at each other.

"Zuri is a piano teacher." his wife stammered, letting the woman with the long, poorly dyed hair shake your hand. She wore necklaces of different colors and a ring that almost covered her index finger with a purple stone. "She graduated from Stanford."

Barely, Jimin told himself.

Before they can continue the conversation, Maeve calls out to the two women. Perfect.

The music was loud enough for Jimin to have the excuse of brushing your ear with his swollen lips from biting them so much.

"That's Marcus," he murmured, letting the warmth of his breath caress your lobe. You closed your hands into a fist, wetness pooling instantly inside your silk underwear.

Marcus was like a Jesus if he had become a writer. His hairy knuckles held a cigarette about to burn his skin, he didn't talk to anyone but instead admired the water of the pool in silence.

“That's his daughter, Cosette,” Jimin's palm guided your hip to the kitchen window. You were so drunk that Jimin didn't have to do much to make your physiognomy move, like wet clay between his calloused fingers.

"Victor Hugo fan?"

"Don't even try to do it, he'll spend hours talking to you about Les Misérables." They both laughed in a drunken stupor. Like two boys gossiping.

Cosette was wearing a plaid skirt and blue eyeshadow. To attract attention this time she had put on red lipstick.

Seeing Jimin, she raised her hand and smiled, revealing her silver braces.

No, she was too shy to greet Jimin like that.

You greeted her with both hands so he could see you better in the darkness on that side.

"Ah, you know her."

"Yes, I almost crashed into the poor thing at midnight when she was running away from her house." Monday the 17th, you arrived at 12:13 that night. Anyway, it wasn't logical for you to be out at midnight.

"I didn't consider her one of those who ran away at night."

"Sometimes it can get lonely, doesn't it?" You both looked at each other at the same time, your cold knuckles pinching your lips.

Hoseok was nowhere to be found and Jimin's cock was already starting to hurt under those tight jeans.

Fuck it.

"You don't need to go to be with little Cosette to feel accompanied." Jimin rolled his eyes, the iridescence of the water reflecting on his face and you felt the wine line your blood. The tickling behind your neck subsided and you could only think about those high, rosy cheekbones that you wanted to nibble on ever since you saw them.

"I don't feel alone now."

"And in your house?"

You squeezed your eyes shut.

"Surprisingly, at home, I feel like I have someone else. In the hallways behind me, behind the curtain when I shower, in the corner of my bed when I go to sleep."

A cheeky smile spread across your face, Jimin swallowed, pulling out a cigarette.

"Ghosts," he rolled his eyes playfully. "The worst plague."

You stole the cigarette from Jimin's hands and lit it with the lighter you had inside your left boot.

"What do you say, Park? Do you have ghosts in your hallways while you go to pour your coffee?"

If you only knew, love.

"Unlike you, no one loves me enough to haunt me even in my dreams."

Your eyes fell after two drags, on the third you stopped at your chest and held the cheeks of the boy next to you, your crimson nails squeezing gently letting Jimin's lips bulge allowing you to pass the cold smoke to his lips.

"Hmm," Jimin groaned, letting the air come out of his nose in frustration. He closed his eyes and opened them gently until he looked at your pupils dilated and determined for the next step.

This is the first time Jimin has asked the question instead of Hoseok, who from his mouth didn't sound so creepy. But the unfortunate man was busy playing a game of poker with the other parents. Now that little Jung came to the family, Jimin, and his hobbies were something that Hoseok apparently wanted to put behind him, he wanted to become a suburban father.

"Have you ever been recorded...um-" Jimin swallowed hard, moving closer to hide in the shadows of the night. "Doing it?"

You tilted your head back to look at Jimin again, he wasn't playing around. You lifted the corners of your lips, a husky laugh on your part.

“You fucking freak” You scoffed.

"I can show you my films if you want to."

"Yeah, sure-" you huffed, taking a step back.

"Pick one." Jimin took your arm, the look in his eyes was daring. "Pick someone here. Anyone."

Your gaze rolled around the party until it stopped at the sweet Maeve who was singing karaoke next to her husband, a martini in her hands. Surprisingly, Maeve was a crowd favorite.

Jimin smiled evilly. "Do you want to know if Mrs. Johnson enjoys being recorded?"

No, you wrinkled your nose.

Your eyes softened at the thought of Jimin arranging the camera to focus on Maeve's cobalt eyes, curiosity flowing faster than alcohol.

"I thought so." Jimin offered you his hand and surprisingly, yours landed on his before he could say no. "Be like the one she's had too much to drink, we need an excuse to get out of here."

In the end, Jimin was right. The only thing he needed to get you into his bed was a little alcohol and a little bit of you.

Jimin's house had so few lights that when you entered it took you a few seconds to adjust to the darkness. The lamps illuminated the corners, the pieces of newspapers with his reviews on the living room wall, his photo on several of them.

Leaving the party wasn't as difficult as they both thought because everyone was so drunk that they didn't even notice his absence, even Hoseok who was winning his useless poker game.

Now you were with your legs crossed on the leather furniture, your boot clattered on the floor waiting for Jimin who was in the hallway, he had put on reading glasses that made him look older than he was but you loved thinking about that little girl. fantasy that he was about to give you a class.

Jimin muttered the letter M over and over again until he found Maeve between Mad Max and The Magnificent Seven. Handwritten with a green marker it said: Maeve: June 3rd, After the Twins' Birthday.

"Here it is." A nostalgic smile appeared on Jimin's face. You followed his steps with your eyes until you reached the small VCR in front of the television.

"It bothers you?" You took a joint out of your purse, but Jimin denied it, crawling to the furniture and positioning himself between your legs, his glasses reflecting a certain emotion that you couldn't decipher. But he looked comfortable, happy to be able to present one of his works, his hand caressing your thigh while he lit the joint.

"On the contrary, I believe that substance use enriches the experience." Now it was Jimin's turn to take your breath into his, but his hand was rough and he clenched your jaw to get you off. You didn't complain, that's how you liked it. "Speaking of substances, brandy?"

“Please,” you coughed, your eyes stinging. You looked around the room as he stood.

Jimin went to the open kitchen that joined the living room, his gaze and body were already adapted to the blackness of the apartment. There was only the light from the television and a small lamp at the end of the hallway that led to his study.

"Are you going to explain to me how you got frigid Maeve Johnson to let you do this or..."

"Of course, I just let Hoseok do the hard work of casting and convincing."

"Hoseok? Your neighbor Hoseok?"

"Yeah, he's like my producer if you want to call it that." The coppery liquid settled in the glasses, leaving a pleasant woody smell in the air.

"And what do you gain from that?"

Jimin turned around and looked at you impatiently.

"Have a drink before you start, it will surely be strong for you."

"You don't know me, Park." You responded, sitting closer to him to take the glass he offered you, a small drink.

It was enough.

Your swollen and tinted lips closed with his in a tender and passive kiss, Jimin breathed deeply without closing his eyes. He placed both glasses on the table without taking off his eyes of the screen and put his hands on your waist. The tips of his fingers touched your curves above the silk of his dress, turning from a caress to a rapture.

"Mphmf" You took off laughing a little, the weed had you smiling and Jimin loved that. He loved it when his girls started laughing sheepishly at their own fantasies.

"Shall we begin?" Jimin held the controller in his hands and pressed the button.

Hoseok is the first image you make out on the screen, his lips pursed as he fixes the camera.

"You're sure?" Could be heard behind the sudden movements of the camera.

"Mhm, it's just something I like to keep in case I want to see your face moaning my name again."

Hoseok takes off just as Maeve blushes and rolls her eyes at him. His movements were light, and his shoulders didn't seem as tense as those of the woman at the party.

"Is she on drugs?" Asked.

"No, she only drank two glasses of wine before starting. The three of us were a little tipsy."

A pale figure approaches Maeve and removes the low tail she has, surprisingly, this makes the woman relax even more. Seeing the hands massaging her shoulders you realize it's Jimin.

"Is she ready yet?" she murmured.

"The only thing missing is the boom," Hoseok responded by teasing Maeve about her beauty.

"Quickly, I can't wait any longer." Jimin laughed flirtatiously, approaching Maeve's neck to leave a couple of chaste kisses. Johnson closed her eyes.

"Almost there," Hoseok complained before the sound changed from a crisp sound to a sleeker one. Now you could hear Jimin's lips smack.

"Action," Maeve laughed and the two boys laughed at her. Hoseok was no longer in front of the screen. But you could hear the dragging of a chair and a belt being removed. Voyeurism, interesting.

What happens next is just what you thought, but you still couldn't stop watching Maeve being completely devoured by a man who was, surely, her first experience fucking her and having her be the center of attention.

The camera focused on her and her alone. But you couldn't stop watching Jimin in the corners, he was a damn artist with his body. He was not the protagonist but without him, there was no dance.

Hoseok was breathing hard behind the camera throughout the entire movie.

When Maeve was sweating and panting on the furniture right where you were sitting, the screen went black.

You looked at Jimin, his mouth resting on his knuckles. The light from the static emitted a pale light on his body, you could see how seriously he had taken the film, he had only moved to take a couple of sips of brandy without taking his eyes off the screen.

"What do you think about it?"

There were no words that could describe the feeling Jimin had when he heard the three words that left your lips.

"I want one." You had a feline smile. Jimin knew you were sick, but you looked like you had fallen from the sky that summer afternoon.

Park's head shook, nodding quickly.

As he stood up from the furniture, he felt as if his body was going to lean forward, perhaps he had drunk too much brandy.

"Woah, are you okay?" You held his arm, but he nodded instantly.

"Yes, sorry is the excitement." He laughed walking down the hallway, each step echoing off the walls of his brain. Something was wrong, but he couldn't stop now. He had to look for his camera.

He searched for the keys in his pocket until he found the key to the study, turned on the lights, and looked for a tool in the corner of the room. Upon entering the studio, it surprised you how many plants, lamps, and furniture of different sizes and shapes there were.

Maeve had surely been something improvised, but now Jimin and Hoseok had vast resources to create something first-class.

"You can take a seat wherever you like, I'll take care of the rest." The man stammered, putting the batteries in the camera.

"What camera is it?"

"It's a Sony BetaMovie, I love how the colors look in the image." He swallowed hard because when he got up, the room seemed to spin. "Shit."

"Come, I'll help you. Take a seat." Your voice guided Jimin to a white piece of furniture near a window. Your hands brushed the hair from his forehead and he smiled. You really were everything he needed.

"I'll put the cassette on while you rest. You hit the joint too fast." You laughed before placing a sweet kiss on his lips, Jimin's cock throbbed as he felt the softness and heat emanating from your body.

“Quick,” he whispered, watching you put the device on the tripod.

His eyebrows rose at how quickly you set up the camera and sound. Even better than Hoseok, he dared to say.

Where was Hoseok?

Jimin's heart started to beat fast as you let your ass fall into his lap, a hiss coming from him as he put both of his hands behind his head. Your hips began to move back and forth, and the fabric of his jeans rubbed roughly against his cock.

"Fuck." He mumbled, looking up, lips parted into an oval. The room stopped moving when you started playing with his hair. "You're s-so fucking cute. I like you so much, I-I don't want to share you w-with that bastard Hoseok."

You laughed at his babbling. He was so excited that if you touched his cock he was sure to cum in seconds. You flattened your tongue against his jugular and felt the growl he made.

"You're so fucking cruel. C'mon, take my fucking cock out."

"Do it yourself, you lazy fuck." You whispered, leaving a hickey on his collarbone.

Jimin obeyed as fast as his clumsy hands could, he didn't know what was happening to him but he didn't care. Maybe what he smoked wasn't weed but if you were in the same state, things were fine.

Everything was perfect.

"Take that fucking dress off. God, I wish you had that pink leotard on."

With both hands on the edges of the dress, you lifted it until your naked body was visible.

"You're breathtaking, baby."

"I know." You kissed him with so much hunger that the taste of blood began appearing between your tongues, but none of you knew whose. You raised your legs to remove the wet panty, you held Jimin's cock in your entrance, and your fingers felt the veins that were pulsing frantically. "Don't you dare cum without me"

"Just ride me, baby, please. I feel like I will die if you don't." He sounded desperate, on the verge of crying. "Nice and slow, let the camera see how good you can take it." Jimin gasped with every inch you let into your tight pussy. Both hands went to his mouth muffling his moans when you sat straight up on his cock, leaving nothing out.

You bit your lower lip in a smile, you pulled him closer to your body and he buried his face in your neck. Right where you wanted it.

"I know you have my key." You whispered.

Jimin pressed his fingers on your hip to make you stop. Fuck.

"What are you-?" The air was forced from Jimin's lungs as his rib bent in pain. The warmth of his blood damaged the new T-shirt.

You had stabbed him, he didn't know what it was but he could feel the thin edge moving menacingly inside him. A guttural sound came from him as you rotated the handle of the knife.

"You were the one who entered my house."

Jimin laughed, the lightness that losing blood caused him ecstasy.

"I didn't tell you to stop moving, you slut," he growled in your ear, your pussy clenched around him, he noticed and smiled even more. You were so done with him. You grabbed a fistful of hair from his head to get a better look at him.

He was a fucking liar, you told yourself as you held his head, his eyelids fluttering with the errant movement of your hips. If you had drunk the brandy that he offered you, you would be in that state, the same one that Maeve was in, the same one that everyone on every cassette in the hallway was surely in.

"Where is the key?"

Jimin couldn't stop smiling, he grabbed your chin and pulled you closer to leave wet kisses on your lips. His tongue playing with yours. A fight of teeth and saliva.

"What do you need it for"

"It's not your damn problem."

"Then I don't have the key."

You were sick of his games, you bit his bottom lip so hard it bled. That along with a sit on his cock made him so sensitive.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK." He hissed on your chest, he did not know if it was for pleasure or because you were taking out the blade from his body. Thick, white cum pouring down your legs.

"Okay, then. I'll just do it myself."

The last thing Jimin remembers is your head smashing his to unconsciousness. Bliss, pure heaven after the torture of having to love and deal with you.

He was fucked.

And here was Jimin, his eyes were like two black bullets pointing in your direction.

And there you were, helping Nancy arrange the gifts on the Baby Shower table. You dressed so casually and sweetly. You smiled as if nothing had happened.

Jimin inhaled sharply and felt his rib sting under the gauze protecting the wound. By luck, or rather experience, you didn't hit a vital organ. Which to him is surprising.

"This is what you get for not telling me to go with you," Hoseok served Jimin the punch filled with cubes of fruit, it was too sweet but since it was Maeve's party it had to be kid-friendly.

Hoseok didn't know about your act, he only knows that there is a tape of what happened, and what hurts Jimin the most is that he doesn't even have it. You took him away, you left his house in a mess looking for the key, and all the tapes scattered on the floor. It took full days to fix them.

"Now you're dedicated to being a full-time dad."

"Sorry, I have to do my job."

Jimin looked up at his partner, he wanted to tell him to go to hell, to him and to everyone else. But Park Jimin was always a sweet, calm, and helpful neighbor. Today he gave the excuse of having a migraine so he could sit and be quiet, so he could see you through his sunglasses.

"Did you at least fuck her?"

Jimin looked at his empty glass, a small smile threatening to tug at his corners.

"It's the best work I've done so far." He responded after a long silence.

"Fuck, man," Hoseok complained, thinking of all the possibilities.

"I can't take this anymore, I'm going outside for a cigarette."

"Don't stay too long, we almost announce the gender."

What a weird fucking sentence, Jimin thought taking, his pack out of his pockets.

"Care to share one?" You said and Jimin's body hair rose like static.

You wore sunglasses just like him, and you carried two glasses of rum and soda.

"You can take that fucking drink and choke with it."

“Mm,” you smiled. "Someone is not in a good mood."

"Do you know I can sue you for what you did?"

You laughed heartily covering your lips, Park's stomach altered. Of course, he couldn't, you already knew about his deepest secret, and you had the evidence. God knows Jimin was in your hands and you didn't need much to close it and crush him.

"Where's the tape?"

"Where's my key?"

"I don't have your fucking key."

"Then you can forget about your tape, sweetheart." You mumbled under your breath before stealing the cigarette from him. Jimin's hand turned into a fist.

You walked languidly down the sidewalk, Jimin following slowly behind you. You knew.

When they arrived at the house they both stayed at the entrance door. Your hands are arranged behind your back.

"Open the door."

"I thought you were going to come in through the window like you did before."

"ENOUGH!" Park shouted, scaring you, luckily there was no one around. "This is not a game."

"It is."

"No, it's not. You came to ruin my life."

"And you don't help solve it."

"The only way this problem will be solved is if you get out of Montenegro."

"Or if one of us ends up dead."

Jimin frowned, and you smiled. You were playing again. What a fucking tease.

Before the staring game continued, a noise inside the house caught both of your attention. To Jimin's surprise, it seemed like you didn't know what the noise was either.

No, quite the opposite.

"What's that?"

“Fuck,” you muttered before pulling out your keys and opening the door as quickly as possible. "Do not enter." You were frantic, scared. Jimin did the complete opposite.

"I told you not to come in,"

"Please help."

"Jimin Park, if you want to stay alive I swear-"

The man pushed you aside to follow the trail of blood that ran from the basement door to the living room and kitchen. When he got to the door, there was a woman tied up trying to open the door with a knife. Her hands were tied with gray tape, she was wearing dirty work clothes and she smelled horrible.

When the girl saw Jimin she became alert and she went to him on her knees, hands above her so that he could help.

"JI-" you swallowed hard, entering the kitchen. "No."

"Shh. I'll take care of it."

In the blink of an eye, Jimin's gaze changed to that of a monster. The woman noticed, got up on her weak legs, and ran through the kitchen to the stairs where she stumbled so hard that her knees couldn't take it anymore.

"No Please!" the woman screamed into Jimin's hand muffling her cries, Jimin's free arm chaining itself to her weak neck squeezing tightly. She moved like a fish out of water for a few seconds until only small spasms remained.

"Shh, I have a migraine. God."

You watched from the start of the stairs, your body trembling and your heart beating in your esophagus about to vomit it up. When he turned to see you there was a smile on his face, red with effort.

This was the card Jimin needed to match.

"The time I came into your house, you weren't the one making all that noise." He gasped, releasing the lifeless body from his arm.

"I do not know what are you talking about." You stuttered, taking a couple of steps back.

Knock, knock.

If you could, your racing heart would have already been on the ground.

"Hello, are you there? Nancy wants you to be there for the reveal."

Zuri's voice chilled your blood. You looked at Jimin and then at the body on the stairs.

Jimin trapped you between the door and his body, you looked up into his eyes.

"Let me guess, my little girl doesn't know how to hide a body."

It hurt you to say it but: "Help me, please." You whispered into Jimin’s lips and didn’t have to say more.

"Be like the one who was leaving the kitchen in ten seconds, wait for the second ring."

You nodded, watching Jimin lift your victim's body until he disappeared through the basement door. You fixed your hair and your dress, and you walked around the bloody kitchen.

"Are you there?" Said Zuri again.

"Yes, one second." You walked quickly trying not to slip on the red liquid on your heels. You opened and closed the door as quickly and subtly as possible. "Sorry, work."

"Oh, no. I understand, sorry." Zuri said with the sweetest smile on her lips.

"I'll be there in about ten minutes."

"Ten, of course. I'll inform the boss." She winked before walking down the sidewalk to the other row of houses.

You sighed before walking back into the mess, Jimin was standing with his shoulder covered in someone else's blood, hair fluttering, and cheeks flushed from the effort.

Your angel.

"There's blood on you... everywhere," your voice trembled.

"What an insightful observation, darling." He laughed, cleaning his hands with his jeans.  

When you both saw each other, there was something undeniable between, and as if pulled by threads, both were attracted to each other until they collided in a kiss with arms intertwined in your bodies. Jimin knew in your arms that heaven was in the middle of chaos.

Jimin's hands traced the lines of your body until he reached the back of your thighs and lifted you so that you were chained to his waist. His rib burned with pain and he was sure the wound was opening again, but it did not matter now.

You two were even.

You gasped as you felt his hands squeeze your ass with anger.

"Shut the fuck up, I'm done with your bullshit."

Your eyelids drooped as you felt his soft lips leave kiss after kiss until your lips did not come away, the undeniable taste of weed and rum. Sweet and dangerous. His tongue entered your mouth, playing with yours, circling until he sucked it, a docile bite that made you moan.

Why did he still want you even after you stabbed him and made him ejaculate, intoxicated?

"Look at you doubting yourself." You said right in time when the silence became evident.

Jimin's blood boiled at your mockery and he led you to the furniture in your small living room. The sofa was still wrapped in plastic and the crisp sound of your body falling into the cushions excited you. A hand on your neck squeezing enough for you to open your mouth for air, the blood of your victim staining your pretty dress and skin.

Out of nowhere, Jimin took out a knife from his pocket and your hair stood on end, your pussy getting wet when he slowly ran it over your chest until he broke your bust and left your nipples exposed.

"Where's the tape?" He asked bringing the sharp tip to one of your nipples, the cold of the metal making your toes curl.

"There's no tape." You smiled biting your lip. Jimin let go of your neck to slap you so hard that he took away your smile.

"Say that again." He was fuming, his wide nose searching for air to calm himself, teeth biting the inside of his cheek.

"There. Is. No. Tape. Park. I just prepped the camera and left it off."

He didn't understand why you felt so proud when it was clear that he could push the blade through your chest, but your nipples were getting hard and saliva was pooling in his mouth.

"Why is there no tape, you fucking cunt?" His fingers squeezed your chin so you would stop watching him play with your tits.

"Because I want to be the one who has it."

Jimin frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Open that box." You pointed at the table next to the couch. It was the only box that looked used and worn. With the same knife, Jimin opened the box and felt a rush throughout his body, almost like vomiting.

A Sony BetaMovie, new in the box. His dazed and disoriented gaze went to yours.

"It arrived this morning."

"Oh, you didn't."

"I want my own film. No Hoseok, no drugs, just you. I saw you in the other ones while you were drugged and God," Your pupils shone with such grace and prayer that Jimin didn't understand.

"N-no, this is not how it works." The only thing he could do was laugh.

"But it can."

You began to kiss his fingers, one by one, giving him the necessary attention. "You just need to let me put the VHS inside and we can start."

Jimin denied it as he let his guard down. You got up and improvised a tripod out of boxes until the camera was right in the center where you could see the couch and Jimin sitting, without understanding what the hell was happening.

Having the VHS and pressing 'Rec', you turned back to Jimin. You kissed his cheeks and his neck, he moaned a few times, closing his eyes.

"In this one, you're my main star." You whispered in his ear and his cock hardened until it hurt. "Use me, please."

A growl from him.

He snatched your body from his side until he had you in his lap, your chest pressed against his knees. With the edge of the knife, he spread your legs and spat on his fingers.

"I wish I could kill you right now." He murmured entering two slender fingers inside your sopping cunt.

"I wish you would just shut up and fuck me like you hate me." You whimpered as his fingers collided with your entrance with pure blows. Your juices were making noise throughout the room, you grabbed a cushion, pressing your face into it.

Jimin didn't like that. "No, no, lift your face. Let me hear you cry." His fingers fisted into your hair as he thrust two more fingers in, the knife threatening to cut the inside of your thigh at any moment.

Your body trembled as his index and ring fingers curled into the gummy walls of your pussy.

"That's it, cum you fucking slut. Flirting with all the husbands at the party, smiling at Charlie Munson in front of her stupid fucking wife, all that with your perky tits bouncing. Showing Zuri your pretty body in that leotard."

His pinky started to play with your throbbing nub until your pee came out, making a mess out of the plastic-covered furniture. Jimin laughed without stopping until he saw you trying to crawl away from him. He took his wet hand and smeared it in your mouth, you spit out the excess watching him with drooping eyelids.

"Look at the mess you made, how dare you ruin my jeans."

A rough hand collided with your right ass cheek.

"Say you're sorry." Another one, this time the left one.

"S-sorry, sir."

The name caught his fancy. You were really hanging on his hands, you were the dirtiest whore for him, and he could play with you no matter how. You were so fucking sick and he loved it.

"Sir?" He laughed, caressing the reddened skin. "That's so cute, keep doing it." He spanked you again and again.

"Please, sir, it hurts."

"Good, now come here and make me cum until it comes out of your nose," he smirked putting you between his legs. 

Your trembling and useless hands took a moment to remove Jimin's pants, revealing his defined legs that made your mouth water.

You felt the tip of the knife on your chin and you raised your head. "Take off the underwear, too."

You hurried until you found Jimin's thick cock throbbing on top of his stomach. You licked your lips unconsciously and got to work right away.

Jimin's moans were drawn out like he was going to curse and drowned it out in a grunt at the end, you loved every second of it as your tongue circled until you reached the base. The air cutting from your throat.

"Kiss it until you can taste the saltiness down your throat, angel"

"Yes, sir." You whispered, letting Jimin fuck your face, covering your ears with his hands so that you could only hear the saliva lubricating the exit and entry of Jimin's cock into your abused throat.

You closed your eyes when you felt just what he promised you. His cum enters directly into your esophagus.

His hands lifted you up in a rush, your lungs flaring for oxygen for the first time in what felt like hours.

"Open your mouth." He have demanded and you obeyed. He spit into your mouth and then closed it with his fingers. "You belong to me, slut."

"Yes, sir." Your words seemed like blurs of what you wanted to say.

Your body was arranged on the furniture with your legs on your chest and Jimin squatting on top of you. He was going to hurt you but it was going to feel so good.

Your juices lubricated your entrance and your asshole, shining with the afternoon light that was scattered through the curtains. Jimin wanted to break you so bad that he grabbed the back of your ankles and spread you even wider until your pussy revealed your dark, hot insides.

Aiming the tip of his cock he rammed you hard until you screamed, biting Jimin's arm. The blood of others staining your bodies, Jimin's wound hurt so deliciously that the stain on his tissues became bigger and bigger.

You couldn't hold it in and you dug your finger into the gauze making Jimin's eyes widen, a roar came out of him and he held your neck squeezing so hard that your face started to turn red. However, you smiled, going dumb with his dick.

Jimin's eyes threatened to go black with pleasure and pain. Your pussy felt like wet silk. It was warm and cozy. He could die fucking that tight hole until the last spurt of semen was also his last breath.

Damn succubus, that's what you were. You smiled like a demon and fucked like an angel.

The angle ended up making you cum a second time, making your walls throb.

"Oh my God, keep doing that." Jimin grabbed your body in a ball until he covered you completely with his body and fucked you with short, desperate strokes, like an animal in heat.

As he came he felt like his soul was ripped out.

"Fucking love you, love your-...I hope you get pregnant with my warm cum deep inside your stomach."

You rolled your eyes.

"Oh, honey. If this ain't the one, we can try again." You promised.

"This is the last time you'll see me," Jimin promised back.

And there it was, oh the gods must have blessed you with such a perfect smile because even though he knew he was screwed, he was still in love.

In a quick and agile movement, you were now the one holding the knife and pointing it directly at the bleeding wound.

"I have a game." You smiled slowly positioning yourself to ride him.

The cum bursting out, warm and viscous to his pelvis. Jimin kept looking at you with a tense stomach.

"Let's play Guess who accidentally gave Cosette one of his movies instead of giving her A Clockwork Orange."

No no no. No.

"No." Jimin tried to get up but you raised the knife to his throat with menacing eyes.

"Knowing Cosette, it will be the last one she watches because of the explicit themes. But you must be on time."

They both looked at the clock on the wall. It was 4:55. Cosette always started the movies after coming home from chess club.

Five minutes or it was going to be a total disaster. Chaos. Jimin had shown Cosette porn, his porn.

"Here's the solution: I give you my car key and you either leave to stop her or let the whole neighborhood know that you traumatized Marcus's poor little daughter with your sick hobby."

Park's eyes stung as two tears fell to his temples.

"If you say the first, that means you will take the key on my conditions."

And this was where Jimin knew that he had made the wrong move.

He was trapped everywhere. Checkmate.

"Fuck you," his voice trembled.

You lowered the knife disappointed, and you sighed.

"Well, if you wish."

The handle of the knife collided with Jimin's forehead letting the pain dissipate with a deep sleep.

The first thing Jimin could smell was artificial pine, then the selage of your perfume. His eyes struggled to open as the blood from his forehead had dried onto his eyelids. It was dark, it was night around him and he could only see the road along until it plunged into darkness. He doesn't remember going out anywhere, much less somewhere so barren. His neck moved little by little until he reached a small market illuminated by white and purple lights.

Jim's Stop Sign, read an old, disused sign.

A bell rang as a woman was let out, it was you.

Shit.

Jimin tried to lift his sleepy body but he was tied to the seat. His body shook with every step you took towards the car. Now that Jimin realized, it was your car.

As you got closer he realized that you were wearing Jimin's t-shirt and the bright green leotard underneath, despite the night you were wearing sunglasses.

When you opened the door, his body was twisted with tension, waiting for you to do something.

"Oh, you woke up." You turned on the dome light, the pungent smell of blood and rotting flesh suddenly filling the car until it completely drowned out the smell of pine. Park tried to vomit but stopped himself. "I see your stomach is still sensitive, you should eat something." You pointed to the paper bag full of snacks and odds and ends like glasses and hair dye.

There was a tingle on Jimin's back but he was afraid to look at the back seat. You put the keys in and sped through the quiet night. The putrid smell subsided as you opened the window for Jimin.

"We had to leave without saying goodbye to Hoseok, I know you probably wanted to see him one last time but the body was starting to decompose and there was no remedy."

That was it, Jimin guided his eyes to the back where a long black sheath tied up who he assumed was the girl you kidnapped.

"She was the girl who had bought the house." You explained when you saw that Park didn't take his eyes off the cover that was shaking with the car. "I convinced her to have a cup of coffee when I met her at the gym and hit her in the face with a bottle of wine. I didn't know how to get rid of her, she just didn't want to die, and spent days feeding her and trying to find a solution." You bit your perfect nails with your other hand on the steering wheel.

Jimin was trying to breathe slowly.

"The solution was you all along." You smiled caressing his thigh. That made Jimin strangely relax.

"We need to find a place to bury them."

Them?

"When we get to the outskirts of Las Vegas we will be more suitable."

"Them?" Jimin’s raspy, tremulous voice touched you.

You looked at him worried, he doesn't remember.

"Cosette's body is in the back." You explained sweetly.

The vomit that his stomach held back came out when he heard those words, the viscous liquid falling on his sweater and his seat.

"Oh, Minnie, this is the second time you've done this on the trip."

"I want to go home." He cried while you stopped to clean his mess.

"We're getting there, don't worry."

"No, I want to go back to Montenegro."

"But you can't. You killed Cosette in her room, don't you remember?"

"You're a fucking liar, I'll never do that to her," he yelled so loud spit came out of his mouth. You just stayed there taking paper towels to clean his chest.

"She said very offensive stuff to you when we went to get the tape. She didn't like that a man was with her dad." You tensed your mouth in a strange smile.

"I didn't do it." He repeated it again and again.

But then again, He hated her guts. The only thing he needed was for her to snap at him once. But he couldn't, he wouldn't.

The night fell again into the silence of the car mechanics accelerating down the deserted highway toward Las Vegas. Jimin looked to the side of him: your hand was resting on the open window while your hair was fluttering in the wind, you looked tired but still murmured the lyrics the song in the radio.

Feeling Jimin's gaze, you looked out of the corner of your eye and smiled tenderly.

You got him out of a huge mess, he was grateful for that. Your hand went to the back and you removed the knot from Jimin's wrists. Looking back at Jimin you kissed the back of his hand and continued looking at the road.

The sweet act confused Jimin so much that he could only stand there looking at your profile, it reminded him of Nancy's. Appeased, away, and scheming things. His stomach was burning with love and he didn't understand it, but thinking about your furrowed eyebrows while you helped him lift Cosette's body made Jimin take you more than just appreciation.

"Did you bring a shovel?" He asked.

#bts #jimin fanfic #jimin smut #jimin x you #bts imagines #taehyung #halloween #bts smut #bts au #bts fanfic #jimin imagine #jimin x reader #halloween smut #bts x reader #bts x you #hoseok imagine #hoseok smut

[viaoverthemoon]

Behind Closed Doors

Thank y'all for all the votes!

Let me know if you all would like more, in which I can possibly post it in parts on here!

Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader (Medieval Universe)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Summary: Your family's kingdom is under attack and Leon's family offers protection. Everyone thinks this is your first time seeing Leon ever since your betrothal. If only they knew...

Tw: MEDIEVAL TIMELINE AND SPEECH, some characters not from the RE-verse/they will be in later parts if y'all want it, mention of battle and injury (not detailed), fluff, SMUT, but it's kinda soft, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virginity loss, minor description of pain, fingering, orgasm denial(?), sorry the smut is long as hell, BUT ITS WORTH IT PROMISE, Sudden ending

18+!! NSFW!! MDNI!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!!

Enjoy! <3

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The nature of the Kingdom of Duevaula is certainly not what you were expecting it to be.

People spoke of the lands as though it were surrounded by fires, commoners walking around subdued by chains are constantly guarded by cruel soldiers.

Instead, healthy trees grow far and wide around the kingdom, children running in the streets laughing as older kids chase them with no malice. Soldiers patrol the area, but most of them look carefree, conversating with locals and playing with the children.

"Sister? Are you alright?"

The voice of your sister pulls you from your thoughts, eyes drifting to the 12-year-old at your side as she places a hand on yours. "Yes, Nara Vella. I'm fine."

Of course, she sees right through you. "Are you certain? I know the events that took place at home may have been-"

"Nara... That is enough. Thank you for asking, but I am fine."

Nara Vella scrunches her nose, about to say more but the carriage comes to a stop and a trumpet blares.

"We're here."

You listen as The Herald announces your parents, the king and queen of The Kingdom of Islandia, but your heart can't stop pounding.

You and your sister rise just before your carriage door opens. Since you are the first born, your name is announced first.

"Announcing the firstborn Princess of The Kingdom of Islandia, (Y/N) (L/N)."

You stop out of the carriage accepting the footman's outstretched hand. All eyes are on you as your navy-blue skirts brush against the concrete, but your eyes are on one person alone.

Your sister is announced behind you, and you step forward to the man infront of you.

You drop into a curtsy. "Your highness."

He bows deeply. "My lady."

Your eyes meet his, the light of a secret hidden in your gazes. He offers an arm, and you accept it, walking with him behind both of your parents.

Prince Leon.

You were betrothed to him at the age of 6, back when your kingdoms were butting heads, resulting in a feud, and needed a way to end the hostility between them. 13 years later, everyone thinks this is the first time you've seen each other since. But it isn't.

Leon had first sent you a private letter when you were 13 years old, requesting your presence at a hidden lake that rested in the middle of your parents' territories. Your heart had raced, excited for a new adventure in life, and you immediately rushed to meet him there.

You've been seeing each other there for years, playing in the waters, having picnics in the soft grass, feeding each other strawberries and chocolates, and reading in silence. Just enjoying each other's presence.

You shared tiny kisses at the lake a few times, but never went any farther in fear of what could happen if anyone found out you'd lost your purity.

You smile at him and lower your voice. "It's been too long since I last saw you, your highness."

He hums, placing his hand on top of yours. You both know it's only been 2 weeks, but who's counting? "Yes, my lady. Far too long. I was beginning to forget the feeling of your soft lips against mine..." He lowered his head, brushing his lips against your ear. "Perhaps, when we are alone, you could remind me?"

☆

Hours later, you and your family sit in the dining room with the Kennedys. All parents, along with Leon, had been locked away in the war room for hours, discussing ways to save the Kingdom of Islandia after it was attacked by another kingdom that sought revenge against your father, the king.

You'd all barely escaped with your lives, most being unscathed, but you, your mother, and your personal guard Jill, hadn't recovered from a couple injuries. Your sister brings up this fact during dinner.

"If it wasn't for (Y/N), I would've been walking around with one leg instead of two!" She dramatically waves her hands around as you try to shush her, your cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

"Nara Vella! Mind yourself! We do not speak of those events at the dinner table!"

She merely giggles, whispering an apology before returning to her plate. You sigh, about to turn back to your own food, but you feel a pair of eyes on you.

You glance at Leon from across the table through your peripheral, noticing his frown.

'Are you alright?' He mouths. You smile reassuringly and nod, raising a brow and offering a teasing smile.

'Worried about me, your highness?'

He only rolls his eyes, seemingly looking at his plate but peeking up at you through his lashes. 'Always, my lady.'

☆

You sit in your chambers after dinner, trying to sew a tear in the dress you'd worn on that fateful night.

It had been washed and dried, but it suffered damage from sword and arrow grazes. And you couldn't just let it be ruined. It's one of your favorites, a gift from your mother when you finally came of age.

It held far too many memories.

A soft knock comes from your door and, suspecting it was your sister, you call to it. "Enter."

You become frustrated with the sew, accidentally pricking your finger with the needle. You curse, yanking your hand away and to your mouth.

Admittingly, the stitch is not the only thing that has you frustrated.

After the feast, you'd tried to get Leon's attention so the two of you could find a moment alone. But he was instantly pulled away by his father, who began to speak of kingly duties and war experience.

You knew that talk would take a while.

"Nara Vella, I am truly not in the mood right now. This damn stitch is going to be the death of-"

"Is this how you speak when I am not around?"

You yelp, spinning around and dropping your materials.

Leon, your betrothed, leans against your chamber doors.

He smirks at you, approaching you at a slow pace.

"How did you- I thought your father would have you occupied for a while..." You stand, wringing your hands and shifting nervously, trying not to pay any mind to his predatory gaze. He offers a teasing smirk.

"I have my ways," He steps into your space, his chest nearly touching yours, and lifts a hand. You immediately relax, nuzzling your cheek into the palm of his hand.

He hums and you sigh, relishing in the presence of one another. "You're certain? That you are not hurt?"

You sigh, placing your hand on top of his. "Yes, Leon. I really am fine."

You feel him let out an exhale, his shoulders dropping in relief. "Good. Because if anyone left lasting damage on you, I'd take the throne right now and declare-"

You smack his chest, glaring up at him. "Leon! You will not declare war on a kingdom any time soon!"

He only throws his head back and laughs, caressing your cheek with his thumb. "Alright! Relax, my lady. I only jest..." You huff a breath through your nose, staring at his deep blue eyes and wide smile.

These were the moments you truly missed.

While the both of you tried to keep visitations strictly scheduled for once a month, it was pure torture to be away from him that long.

You inhale his air, a deep, husky scent of forest mixed with wildfire.

"I have prayed and waited every night to be in your arms again. I had never known this would be the reason why..." Your other hand grasps his shirt, holding onto him so tightly one would think he might disappear.

"Dreadful circumstance or not, I finally get to see your face again..." Leon raises your chin, your eyes shifting between his eyes and his lips. "And you, finally get to remind me of your taste..."

You could swear sparks fly when your lips meet.

Hot, searing passion colliding to create a love that is hidden behind closed doors. His fingers comb through your hair, your fingernails scratch against his loose sleeve shirt.

His tongue brushes against your lips and your heart leaps, your lips instinctively opening. A gasp comes from those parted lips. Your back arches and Leon chases you, hand lowering to grip the silk material of your robes.

He parts from you all too soon, dipping his head and placing wet kisses along your neck. A moan escapes your lips and the both of you freeze, a pause filled with red hot tension.

Your nails dig into his shoulder, breaths coming out in short, quick gaps. "Perhaps-... Perhaps we should stop..."

"We should..."

And yet, no one moves.

You swallow, throat feeling tight. "If my mother-... If our families ever found out about this-"

His head leaves the crook of your neck, eyes gazing down at you with powerful determination. "They won't."

Your breathing shakes. "But- When that time comes-"

His hands grab your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him. "They. Won't." His thumb strokes your bottom lip, blue eyes burning. "Do you trust me?"

Your answer is immediate. "Of course."

His lips twitch. "Good. Then know, that they will never know. And we will never be separated."

His confidence brings forth your own.

You know this decision is a big one. A lady handing a man her virtue is something that with bind her to him forever.

And while you hate the hold that purity has on the ways of society... You know Leon is the only man you would ever give yourself to.

Your eyes widen, a desperate gleam shining in them. "Take me, Leon."

☆

Your naked body shines in the moonlight, every curve and crevice on display for him, and him alone.

Leon stands at the foot of your bed, staring down at you with hazy, lust filled eyes.

You'd both stripped each other of their clothes in record time, a cluster of rushing hands and pitiful whines. You try not to stare at his... rather intimidating manhood, that stands tall and hard as rock. Albeit, he stares at you without shame.

His eyes rake over every inch over your body, starting at your ankles. Then moving to your legs, then your hips, your stomach, breasts, lips and finally your eyes. His bright blue oceans of eyes had turned into a deep dark sea, leaving you panting and burning.

You open your arms, reaching for him. "Well? Do not stand there and stare..." You somehow keep your voice steady, the whimper in your throat begging to be released.

He smirks, jerking himself a few times, before placing his hands on the bed and crawling toward you.

You hesitate, and then spread your legs. He settles between them, hot palms landing on your thighs and causing the skin to be set ablaze.

Your heart pounds in your ears, breathing turning heavy and legs shaking.

You're afraid. Excited! But afraid.

Many of the older ladies had said that their firsts were blissful, yet excruciatingly painful. But others said it was not as bad as it seems.

This left you with uncertainty, gooseflesh rising on your arms as you try your best to keep your emotions at bay.

But of course, Leon reads you like an open book.

He caresses the soft skin of your thighs, thumbs moving in small, calming circles. "You have nothing to fear, (Y/N)." He leans down, running his nose over your cheek. "Of course, I would never do anything to hurt you. It is never too late to stop-"

He barely gets the words out before your hands harshly grip his biceps. "No! I mean- um... I want this, Leon. More than anything." Your grip relaxes and you offer a reassuring smile.

He smiles back at you.

The heavy atmosphere returns when he leans down again, lips skimming your throat as his length nudges your sensitive ball of nerves.

You nearly jump out of your skin; a sharp gasp leaves you.

Leon feels your nervousness, and, luckily, knows just the cure.

A hand creeps down your body, getting lower... lower...

Until rough, calloused fingers slip between your folds.

A loud moan is quickly cut off by his lips.

Hopefully your guards aren't paying too close attention to your chambers...

Your knees bend, eyes clenching shut as Leon swallows all of your noises. His fingers work slow circles of pleasure into your clit, the sensation one you've never felt before.

Much like getting too close to a hot fire in the blazing cold of a harsh winter, it warms your insides and leaves your outside wanting more.

You throw your head back, the back of your fist flying to your mouth as you try to hold back the sounds your throat nearly let's burst out.

"Hah... Leon-..."

His name rolls from your tongue as a soft whisper, words stuttering off into a sharp inhale as his fingers graze over your soaking hole.

Your other hand grips the soft sheets, body giving in as he completely takes control. Your eyes lock with his.

He's deep in concentration, breathing shallow and sweat matting his blonde hair to his forehead.

Gaze lowering, you see the angry red color of his girth. It throbs, begging for attention while trying its hardest to sit still and look pretty.

"Nuh-uh. Eyes up here, princess." Your glossy eyes snap back to his, mouth slightly agape and brows pulled together. Leon smirks, pleased with your expression. "You can make that up to me later. But this moment, is for you."

His other hand gently removes your hand from your lips, soft sighs coated in ecstasy falling from them immediately.

The pressure builds as you roll your hips to meet his fingers. He slowly slides a finger into you, watching your expression as it shifts. He keeps another finger working on your nerves, so the one inside only adds to the pleasure.

You cry out when he adds a second one, now feeling a slight sense of discomfort, but still pleasure. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, mumbling praises. You're surprised by the sound of his voice, slurring slightly as if he'd indulged in a tin of ale.

"Good job, princess... Doing such a good- hngh~... Does that- feel good, my lady?"

Your body seems to like the sound of Leon, if the new wave of slick was anything to go by.

You feel the knot in your lower stomach tighten, your moans raising in volume as your back arches. You feel something coming. Not sure what it is, but your legs begin to shake. You wait in anticipation, every thought focused on the new stage of euphoria this feeling was going to bring... until Leon completely pulled away his hand.

You gasp, eyes snapping open. Your body falls limp as you catch your breath. "Wha-... Why-"

"I hope you do not mind if I become a little selfish, my lady..."

Your eyes snap to him, sitting up on your elbows and ready to reprimand him for denying you of your bliss, but your words are blown away.

Leon sits up on his knees, manhood curved upward in his hand as he strokes the length. Wet, sticky liquid leaks from the red tip, veins protruding from every angle.

Your air is taken away, leaving only enough to let out a sharp exhale.

"But... I want you coming undone only on my cock."

You eye him, switching between his eyes and his... cock, before nodding slowly. "Okay... Okay, Leon."

He leans down again, pressing wet kisses on your neck and cheeks, as his length glides between your folds. "I will not move until you're ready..." And then, he begins pushing himself inside.

Your nails dig into his shoulders with a gasp. His hand grips the pillows as he grunts. Both of you release soft noises of pain, holding onto each other as he continues to slowly enter you.

You hold back a scream when he finally bottoms out, doing your best to relax as to not hurt him anymore. You feel his soft kisses on your face as he apologizes continuously, hand roaming the skin of your waist as the other rubs circles into your clit again.

After what feels like forever, the pain slowly subsides and makes room for pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders loosens. You instead put them around his neck, digging your hands into his hair. "I'm ready, Leon... You can move-"

His hips snap against yours without warning.

You cry out, clinging to him as he begins to thrust into you at an animalistic rate. He grunts with every thrust, caging your body in as he loses himself.

"I have waited so long-. Please, please forgive me, sweet angel-"

Heavy panting and the smell of sex fills the air, the sound of skin meeting skin resounding within the room. Your moans and pleas do nothing to teeter the wild and rough movements of Leon's hips. He growls into your neck, holding your hips to keep you from getting away.

The knot is seconds away from snapping, but it feels stronger than it was before. Different even... Almost like you need to run to the pot. You feel overwhelmed, pushing at Leon's shoulders. "I can- I can't! It's too much- Ah! Leon-!"

The band snaps.

You scream, toes curling and back arching.

Your body pushes out a wave of liquid, most likely soiling your sheets. The feeling burns you inside and out, tensing all of your muscles and leaving you weak and trembling. You pant heavily, body still jerking from Leon roughly thrusting into you.

The after-bliss you'd once felt begins to feel uncomfortable. Overstimulated, you claw at his biceps in hopes of getting his attention.

He groans when he hears you whine. "Almost- Almost there-"

His thrusts get sloppy, his cock hitting somewhere so deep that it somehow prolongs the burn. You bite his collarbone to keep from screaming again.

It would seem that was his final push, as he pushes deep inside of you, releasing a low, husky groan and throwing his head back.

You watch as his entire body shudders, his grip on your hips tightening so much you're sure you'll have bruises in the morning.

A warm rush of liquid flows into you, seeming to be a never-ending flow as Leon falls limp, landing right beside you.

You'll definitely have to bribe your guards in the morning.

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Whoops!

Sorry for ending it like that! If you guys want this to have more, let me know! I'll pick it up from here!

Let me know what you think!

Hope you enjoyed! <3

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

#viaoverthemoon #leon kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon s kennedy smut #re4 leon #re4 #smut #resident evil leon #reader insert #leon smut #leon s kennedy #x y/n #x reader #resident evil x reader

[vmpyria]

ok respectfully you’re writing is absolutely ethereal😭. Anyways I have a prompt that may get you to write something for the SF fandom (I’m very fixated on it and I can’t find decent content lol)

~ok so yk how Sal is on that killing spree to free everyone from the red eyed demon thing? What if the reader had been living there and now he has to kill them? Idk I just feel very angsty today

(have a lovely day 💜)

SAL FISHER X READER: the end.

i am putting a gun to my head, this was agony. i did some small research on how it feels like to be stabbed so my description is a bit detailed. i tried to expand on the feelings sal felt as he did this :( i hope i did the scene justice and i hope you enjoy! reblogs & replies help me be motivated!

TW — murder, blood, depictions of stabbing and death. angst.

sal’s chest felt heavy.

this felt like a scene straight from his nightmares, but no — it was real.

his eyes were clouded with tears, his lip quivering. his tears stained his skin and the inside of his prosthetic. he stood over the corpse of soda and faced chug’s bloodied corpse.

“i—i’m sorry.” sal stuttered.

in his hand he held the knife.

he wanted to die, he wanted to stab himself just like how he stabbed the others.

first, he lost larry. larry, his best friend. his brother. the demon was beginning to take over him leading him to do the did the only thing he could — drank himself to death to avoid having his soul taken away from him.

then, terrance.

the little boy broke the heartbreaking reality to him.

to save them all, he had to kill them.

sal didn’t want to, he didn’t want to hurt them. his friends, his family.. but, it was either save them by killing them or lose them to the demon’s power.

the world wouldn’t understand, but at least he did. at least he knew that this was the easy way out.

sniffling, he stumbled to the door of chug’s apartment and then walked out.

his grip on the knife was tight, the the sudden realization of what was next almost made his collapse.

you.

you were next on his list, you.

his girlfriend, his everything, his confidant. you. he had to kill you next.

his stomach twisted, the anxiety, the fear, the grief, the pain. it was all too much, he felt nauseous, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

he wanted to be with his mom.

he wanted to be cradled by her, to have his face pressed against his mother’s chest as he wept away the fear of this nightmare. he wanted her to gently pet his hair and reassure him — ‘it was just a nightmare, dear. it’s okay, mommy’s here and she’s not going to let anything bad happen to you.’

but no, his mom wasn’t there. she wasn’t going to hold him, she wasn’t going to tell him he would be okay. she wasn’t there.

and now, you weren’t going to be there either.

you had been the one he cried to when he felt the grief of his mother’s passing, you had been there. you had always been there. you listened to him, you held him, you cried with him.

and now he was going to lose you.

who was he going to cry to after this? his dad is dead, larry is dead, you’ll be dead soon. who was going to hold him and reassure him he did the right thing?

you weren’t gone yet, but he was already mourning.

the walk to your apartment felt like he was walking to his doom, which honestly felt like he was.

he had sobbed as he went up to the floor you lived in, he moved his prosthetic to wipe his tears and now he was in front of your apartment door.

it was time.

opening the door with the spare key you had gifted him during your first year anniversary, sal stepped inside.

the apartment smelled like you, he could smell the sweet candles you had set up around the house, they were vanilla scented.

he always loved the smell of your apartment.

“hello?” you called from your bedroom.

sal froze at the sound of your voice, soft and his favorite. he loved your voice, he could fall asleep to you just rambling.

you entered the front area and saw sal, a bright smile spread on your lips almost immediately. “sal!” you said happily.

you could tell he didn’t seem lively, the knife was in his back pocket, hidden from your view.

looking at his hands, you saw the blood that stained them, then you noticed a bit of blood on his mask. “sal?!” you said in alarm, walking closer. “are you hurt? are you okay? what happened?” you asked, concerned for him.

he’s going to miss you, so, so much.

he was going to miss the way you smiled, the way your eyes crikled, the way you pursed you lips when you focused on something, your laugh, the way you lit up the room, your hair, you skin, your style, your art, your music taste, your everything.

he was going to miss how you always shared snacks with him, how you always called him at night while he was in the suburbs, how you would arrange study dates. how you would hold his hand tightly and point out every single thing you liked, how you cared about him.

he was going to miss how you—

“sal?” you asked, standing in front of him , your eyebrows furrowed up in worry for his wellbeing.

he wasn’t going to miss this, what he was going to do to you.

“i love you.” sal said, his hand reaching to his back pocket.

you laughed, “i love you too! what’s happening?” you smiled, an eyebrow raised in confusion. sal’s hand gripped the base of his knife.

“please forgive me.” he whispered, you could feel his heavy gaze behind his mask, the way his voice cracked, was he crying?

you looked down at his hand, watching as it reached for the back of his pocket, you then saw the blade that peaked from behind him, stained and bloodied.

you stepped back, “sal? sal— what..what is going on?” you asked, letting out a nervous laugh as you stepped away from him.

you heard a muffled sob come from him, “please, y/n. please forgive me, this is the only—way.” he said, you could hear the pain behind his voice, he was now gripping the knife by his side.

“the only way for what? sal, s—sal, please put the knife down, what’s going on?” you asked frantically as you tried to step away from him.

sal’s vision was cloudy from the tears, his already broken heart shattering as he watched the fear in your eyes. “the d—demon, it..i need to save you, please..” he sobbed, stepping closer.

you pressed against the wall and watched desperately as sal stalked closer to you.

“i love you, y/n.” sal whispered.

he stood in front of you, his shoulders shook as you stared at him. you were at a loss for words, your eyes were wide in fear, tears quietly streamed down your cheeks.

sal’s grip on the knife got tighter, his knuckles turning white. “say it back—“ he sobbed, “p—please, say you love me.” he cried.

he was begging, pleading for you to say your words to him.

“s—sal—“ you stuttered fearfully, “i love y—you, i always have.” you sobbed, your gaze moving down to his knife.

“please don’t—“ you pleaded, sal gulped and shook his head. “i know it might not look like it..b-but i’m saving you, i promise.” he stumbled.

he didn’t want to do this, he didn’t have the strength to lift the knife and puncture your stomach.

you stared at him fearfully, you never understood much of the paranormal activity, you only knew a surface level of information, but you trusted him.

how silly.

he’s about to kill you, but you trusted his word. he had always been the person you most relied on.

a sudden punch was felt against your abdomen.

one, and another, and another.

you didn’t register the fact he had stabbed you yet, the adrenaline rush hiding the agonizing pain that would soon take over.

looking down, you watched as sal removed his knife from your stomach. your blood was oozing out, staining your clothes and then you felt it—

it felt like a searing pain in your skin, your organs had ruptured at the impact and now you were left in agony.

a choked cry left your lips as you tried to cradle your wounds, your knees feeling weak, and then your screamed. a gurgly guttural scream, one that displayed the agony you felt as your wounds seared.

you collapsed on the floor with a heavy thud.

sal stood over you, he was taking off his prosthetic.

dropping it down to the floor, he sank down to his knees and he was quick to hold you. he could feel your warm blood staining his shirt as he held you.

your hearing was muffled, you couldn’t make out what he was saying, you could hear your blood streaming through your body and your pulse.

it hurt so much you couldn’t even speak.

your breathing got fast, you felt yourself gasping for air. your chest hurt, you couldn’t breathe— your mouth began to fill with a metallic liquid.

blood began to spill from your mouth, your coughs were gurgled.

your body was moving with every sob that came from sal. his grip on your was deadly. he didn’t want to let go, he wanted to savor the warmth of your body one last time.

now he was weeping, his sobs were loud and guttural, he wanted you back. he wanted you to hold him, to tell him you were fine.

he had envisioned himself growing old with you.

he even thought about marrying you when he finished his studies, he wanted to have a family with you. it all sounded so stupid now, but he was envisioning the life he could’ve had with you.

he babbled various ‘i love you’s’ as he held you.

his voice was muffled for you.

you were so tired.

your eyes got heavy, your strength was depleted. you didn’t want to move, you didn’t want to speak.

you couldn’t.

it hurt, everything hurt so much.

your airways filled with mucus, your breathing got nasally and scratchy.

you weakly held sal’s hand for one last time and then your eyes slipped shut.

two more breaths passed and suddenly it all stopped.

sal sore that time stopped.

your grip stopped and your body went limp.

looking down at you, sal let out a sob, his face was tear-filled and red. his heart was broken.

first his mom, then larry, then his dad and lisa, everyone — and finally you.

the people he most deeply cared about were gone, and it was all because of him. he did this, the guilt that overcame his body was immense. he thought about stabbing the knife deep into his abdomen and twisting it, to feel the same pain you felt.

but he was scared.

deep down, he was just a small child, one that grew up alone, the only people that accepted him were gone.

now, he was left alone.

just how it started.

#sally face x y/n #sally face x you #sal fisher x you #sal fisher x reader #sally face x reader #sal fisher #sally face #tw.dark content #tw.death #x reader #angst #no happy ending

[sukiipoo]

A F T E R C A R E : Shoto Todoroki

description: Shoto comes home with more than just a few bruises, and you think its best you help him patch up.

before you read: gender neutral reader, fluff / comfort, married!reader x Shoto Todoroki, TW; mention of blood, kissing.

After a long day of patrolling the raining city of Osaka, Shoto shuffles through the door slowly, kicking his boots off to the side and sliding his gear off, dropping it onto the floor with a loud thud!, before walking into the kitchen where you stand, mixing ingredients into a pot for dinner. You and Shoto have been married for quite some time now, and him being a pro hero, you are used to him coming home bruised, battered and exhausted. He walks up behind you, pulling you close to his chest and laying his head softly on yours.

"You ok?" You ask, looking up from your soup at him.

"Long day...just tired." He mumbles into your hair, looking around you at the nice boiling soup on the stove. "That smells nice, what is it?" He lets go of you, and now that he's beside you, you can take a good look at him. His face is full of burn marks and a huge, purple bruise forming just below his right eye. Dried blood is seen in his hair, as well as his face, and he looks absolutely fatigued. You gasp as you drop the wooden spoon you were holding, grabbing his face softly.

"Oh my god, Shoto are you ok?!? That looks really painful!" You yell softly at him in concern, watching him flinch as you softly graze one of the burn marks. you turn back to the stove, turning the soup on low, before grabbing his hand and walking him into the hall bathroom. "Baby, I'm fine, really. It'll heal on its-" he doesn't finish his sentence, as you sit him down on the side of the bathtub, sighing. "Some things can't heal on their own, Sho...just...let me help you, please?.." You both sit there staring at each other in silence, before he eventually gives in, sighing and nodding slowly.

You open the cabinet, getting out the first aid kit, opening it on the counter and grabbing a few things from it, before walking back over to Shoto, sitting on his lap facing him. "This might sting a bit." You hold up the cotton swab, dipping it in rubbing alcohol, before dabbing it on his face. He flinches, hissing softly. "I know, baby, I'm sorry..only a few more burns." Your heart aches as you see you husband in pain. You never liked seeing him hurt, or injured back in high school. as you finish patching his face with bandaids, He watches you fondly. "How did I get so lucky?...." You hear him mumble to no one in particular. You smile, softly cup his face, before kissing his lips adoringly. He slowly leans into it, laying his hands on your thighs, before sliding them up to your waist slowly.

As you both part lips, he smiles at you, patting your waist as an indication to get up from his lap. "So, back to dinner now, yeah?" You chuckle at him, before leading him out of the bathroom in to the kitchen. "I cooked some Miso Soup since it's a pretty groggy day." He hums in acknowledgment, sitting at the counter as you finish up the soup. "So how was your day, my love?" He sits with his head in his hand, watching you adoringly as you babble on happily about your day, not leaving out any details.

(Sweet Baby Shoto <3 love him sm)

#anime #mha x reader #mha #shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x reader #married life #pro hero au #bnha #bnha x reader #fluff #mha fluff #comfort #one shot

[qtboni]

#.QTBONI‘S — RULES & MASTERLIST !

the curated collection of my written works, organized by fandom and characters. these stories feature mature adult themes and content, and every character depicted in the works is written as an 18+ individual.

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SERIES

1000 followers event

FICS

⋆៹ SIMON RILEY ᵎᵎ

love language ꒰ despite his difficulty in expressing his emotions, he still finds ways to show his love for you ꒱

melting into your arms ꒰ him melting into your arms after a rough day at work ꒱

shattered hopes ꒰ he lashes out on you and was very dismissive over your efforts for him ꒱

rebuilding hopes ꒰ after an argument with you, he feels a deep sense of remorse for the pain he caused ꒱

loved imperfections ꒰ he reassures your insecurities with loving words ꒱

sweet dreams, my love ꒰ he woke up to you sleeping far away from him in the bed so he pulls you back to him ꒱

a lil' vampire you are ꒰ you bite him with your canine teeth and he gets feral for it ꒱

wild cowboy ꒰ he indulges you in your pretty lil fantasies of him being a cowboy ꒱

shying away ꒰ he encourages and guides you on what he wants to do to you ꒱

atrapada ꒰ kidnapped and tortured in front of him, he has to endure all of it until he gets his hands on your captor ꒱

⋆៹ KÖNIG ᵎᵎ

rest well, mein liebe ꒰ he lets you rest on his shoulder, and him also resting on top of your head ꒱

love in the emergency room ꒰ you were brought into the emergency room and he was your emergency contact ꒱

bloodstained love ꒰ yandere slasher au, he comes home to you after killing someone and asks you if you're proud of him ꒱

⋆៹ CAPTAIN PRICE ᵎᵎ

cocoa kisses ꒰ he craves warmth and safety, which he finds whenever he comes to you, the person he loves ꒱

what'd u call me? ꒰ fatherfigure au, where you accidentally calls him dad ꒱

⋆៹ VARIOUS ᵎᵎ

hug me close ꒰ having cold hands for cuddles ꒱

our journey begins ꒰ their reaction to the news of your pregnancy ꒱

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#ily all #(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) — [bonnie’s navi] #👾 — [bonnie’s wk] #💌 — [bonnie’s convos] #(⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠＾⁠3⁠＾) — [bonnie’s favs] #call of duty

[multi-fandom-simp]

Forever and always... or maybe Never (Alternate Ending #1)

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Hanahaki disease!AU

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim any of them as my own. This work is purely fictional.

Summary: Some say that you can not die from a broken heart, but how wrong they are. When your lover and husband, Aemond Targaryen, begins to find comfort in another, the universe takes pity on you. Well, if you can count a deadly flower disease as pity. Will Aemond have enough time to save you, or do you have to save yourself?

TW: Profanity, mention and descriptions of blood, descriptions of choking and vomiting, hints and mentions of infidelity, mild mature scene, angst, I think that's all of them??

(A/N: Hello, I meant to post this a while ago, but I was struggling to get it to turn out the way I wanted. Even now I'm not sure if I 100% love it. Nevertheless, I give you one out of two of the alternate endings. It may seem similar in the beginning, but small details have changed in the first half, and then the second half is completely new! I would like to state that in no way, shape, or form do I think forgetting things heals wounds. With saying that, the reader does forgo her love for Aemond in attempt to save herself, but in a different way. A way that still keeps Aemond in the loop but makes him suffer. I hope you all like this better than I do. Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments or reblogs, I truly love to see them! Anyways, enjoy!)

Word Count: 3,435

Taglist: @libdarkheart (It's been a hot minute so I wasn't sure who else wanted a tag for the alternate endings)

Your love for Aemond hadn’t always been unrequited. At least you’d like to think it wasn’t. Both of you had grown together in the red keep as children. The two of you read together, ate together, and overall grew together. Aemond was your best friend before he was your betrothed. Whenever his mother was busy, it was your side that he clung to. The two of you were so attached at the hip that Alicent even took you to driftmark with them. You and the beast that came with you of course. No one really knows how you stumbled upon a hyena pup, nor how you tamed it to your side as a child. Nevertheless, they never forbid you from having it. If the Targaryens could have their dragons, and the Starks their dire wolves, then certainly you could have the tricky little beast that you insisted on calling Lark. In some ways, Alicent was thankful that you insisted on keeping it. After all, it was your hyena that stood between Aemond and the other children on that fateful night in driftmark. The beast had acted as your legs and ran faster than you could to reach the devastating brawl before you. Despite Aemond’s wails of pain, Lark refused to let the guards come too close. Only when you arrived did she move aside. Regardless of being young, that was the first night you realized your feelings for Aemond Targaryen. The very sight of him bleeding and broken struck you so deeply that you felt as if you had been maimed too. Alicent had noticed the change as well as she watched you stand by her son's side whilst he received stitches. Her dark eyes gazed deeply at how tightly you held Aemond’s hand, as if he would disappear. Aside from her, no one had ever loved her son this passionately, not even his own father. 

“Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders” Rhaenyra demanded.

“ Was the blade of your son’s knife not enough sharpness for the night?” All eyes turned to you in surprise. You had never been known to speak out if it did not benefit you. Most of the time you were seen standing to the side, watching while others tore each other apart. Aemond could always see past it, see your true intentions. He knew you were studying how different people fought and where their weak points were. You had been around the red keep long enough to know that Lucerys Velaryon was Rhaenyra’s soft spot, and tonight you planned to use that against her. 

“ You should watch your tongue when you speak to me” Rhaenyra warned, her eyes flickering over to her father to see if he would do anything. 

“ or what, you’ll have Lucerys cut it out like he did Aemond’s eye” The neutrality on your face was enough to both scare and amaze Aemond. 

“ You dar-”

“ Enough! My son has lost an eye and now you insist on arguing with a young girl?” Alicent moved up next to you, a hand on your back in support. She knew how terrifying it was to stand alone in a room full of adults scrutinizing you. That’s how her wedding felt after all. The queen’s hand never wavered through the interrogation of the green children. You held Aemond’s hand and she held you. Until things escalated that was. When the queen rushed towards Rhaenyra you stepped in front of Aemond. Shielding him from the sight of his mother in the midst of such violence. All Aemond could see in the midst of chaos was you, and all you could see was the river of blood on Rhaenyra’s arm. Little did you know how familiar you would be with crimson rivers in due time. 

It was shortly after that night when your betrothal to the second son was announced. Alicent assured that it was needed to form an alliance between your family and theirs, when in reality it was a match made to ease the worried queen’s heart. In her eyes, no one else was a better match for Aemond than you, and for the longest time, you believed her. Oh, how foolish you were. 

Six years passed with ease for the two of you. The first four were filled with fleeting touches, deep conversations, and young love. 

“What is this, my lady, a journal?” Aemond’s voice floated around you as his chin found purchase on your shoulder. He set the lilacs he had brought with him beside you on the bench.

“ And if it is?” You hummed, closing the leather-bound book a bit too quickly.

“ Then I fear I must inspect it. Wouldn’t want my future wife to be keeping secrets from me.” You recognized the playful jest in Aemond’s voice and wasted no time in rushing up from the bench. 

“ Not so fast, my love.” Aemond chuckled, ensnaring you from behind. 

“ Aemond!” You protested, smacking his locked arms with the leather bound book. 

“ Have I ever told you how much I adore it when you fight back?” Aemond snickered, his breath hot on your neck. 

“ You pervert!” You feigned offense before looking ahead to your pet, “ Lark, get him girl, c’mon!” 

“ You know she won't come. That ole girl loves me as much as she loves you." Aemond smirked, whistling for Lark in the way you taught. 

            " Traitor." You grumble with a hidden smile as the Hyena trots over to the pair of you casually. Aemond had let you down so that you could turn to face him.

The two of you were married when he was seventeen and you were sixteen. Your union was repeated twice over. Once in front of a sept full of people, and then in the tradition of old valyria. Aemond wanted reassurance that you would never part from him. Your marriage fueled two more years full of what was now mature love. 

The edge of your teeth pulled at the pillow of your bottom lip as you stared at the dark oak door. The sound of jeering men swarmed your thoughts and threatened the bile at the back of your throat. You tried to hide your discomfort for Aemonds sake, but he was keen to your reactions by now. 

“ Do not fret, my love, I will not let them hear your noises. I would never let them hear what is only meant for me and you.” Aemond spoke lowly, using your hips to turn you towards him and away from the door. 

“ They’ll hear regardless.” You muttered bitterly, “They’re sat out there with their ears pressed against the door just wa-”

“ I said they would not hear you and I meant it” Aemond murmured into your ear with a soft kiss to the sensitive skin just beneath it. 

“Aem-” You sighed contently.

“That’s it..sȳz riña.”Good girl. Your breathing faltered as the pet name slipped past his lips. He had figured out how much you liked to be praised from your journals.

“ You r-remebered…”You managed to gasp as he trailed down your neck. 

“ I remember anything and everything that has to do with you. Starting small with the way you love lilacs and stretching all the way to how you separate the food on your plate. I would never forget anything about you, my love” Aemond promised between wet kisses. You shouldn’t have believed him, but you did. 

You never would’ve thought that you could fall deeper in love with Aemond Targaryen after that night, but nine months later proved you wrong. The sight of him by your side as you delivered your son set permanent hearts in your eyes. He had not cared for the blood or screams, only you and the babe. The babe who he later named Aemys because it was as close as he could get to amethyst, your favorite color. Every little detail of  the things he did revolves around you. That’s what fueled your denial the first time you coughed up blood. 

Your eyes stared hard at the bloody petal laying in your palm. Had that come from you? You had read strange tales of those who bled flowers, but you believed it only to be fiction. Surly your blood would not change at the ripe age of ten and nine. 

“ The flower that once bloomed love will soon bloom blood. “ Helaena aimlessly mumbled to herself from beside you. 

“ What..?”Your heart sped up as you analyzed her words. No one had ever paid any mind to her silly riddles, except for you. 

“ Blooming blood blooms a burial.” This time Helaena was focused on you as she spoke. Her eyes filled with unknown sorrow. You left Aemys to play with his cousins as you rushed to the library. No one else was there to question your  sanity as you pulled book after book from the shelf to find the old dornish fables that lay hidden among them. 

“Hanahaki..”Every word, every page, and every definition seemed to tear you apart further as you read. No other condition led to flowery bile except for this one. Aemond loved you though. How could this be possible?

Your thoughts would be answered two morrows later when Aemond returned from his siege of Harrenhal. Everyone had expected to see him arrive on dragon back alone, certainly not with a strong bastard. A gorgeous strong bastard at that. You felt your chest tighten as you gazed upon her dark flowy locks and enchanting eyes. Oh by the seven, how could you spite him for loving someone like her? If circumstances were different, then perhaps you too would fall under her spell. It wasn’t until you saw the way she clung to Aemond’s arm that the coughing fit started. This had to be it. What else could it be? Aemond hated physical contact with strangers, yet he let a previously unknown wetnurse cling to him like a paramour. The harder you thought about it, the harder you coughed. The fit only resulted in a petal or two, but in time that would grow. The longer Alys rivers stayed, the worse you got. Both you and the universe could feel Aemond straying from you, even if he spoke differently. 

“I am not in love with her!”Aemond snapped, reaching his breaking point in this petty argument that had started hours ago at dinner. 

“ You do not see the things I see, Aemond. The way you defend her, encourage her, look at her…all in the way you used to look at me-” It took effort to fight down the sickness as you fought. It had been months, but you made no move to tell Aemond, you couldn’t.

“ I do not love her as I love you-”

“ Yes, but you love her!” You cried in outrage, gripping the wall near you for support. Everything became so out of focus as you spoke the words. It was the first time you had ever admitted it to yourself. The dew of brick cooled your skin as you leaned against the wall. Your body trembled with deep echoey coughs as petals tore their way up your throat. 

“ I did not mean to make you sick, dear wife” Aemond spoke softly and simply. Wife. He had never called you that before, not even on your wedding night. It was always my love or Ñuha prūmia. How ironic for him to call you his heart when sooner or later he would be the reason yours cease to beat. 

“ Just go, Aem, please.” You pleaded, turning away, “I do not wish to fight.” 

“ As you wish.” Aemond’s bow before he left was the final straw to crack your heart open. Why must he be so formal when you stand dying a few feet away? How can he not see how badly you suffer? Were the shadows beneath your eyes, or the crack of your lips not big enough clues for him? Would you need to be dead for him to finally understand?

Thankfully, the universe wouldn’t let you go that easily. Nor would it let Aemond leave your mind. You had tried it all, from no longer dining with him to pretending he no longer existed. However, it seemed that for every step you took away from him, he took one closer to you.  Perhaps it was stupid to think that you could attempt to forgo your love for him in the first place. 

“ ābrazȳrys. Ābra-” Aemond’s voice broke you from your thoughts. Bringing you back to chilled window of the library where you sat. Not that the chill affected your ailing body any. 

“ How late has it gotten?” Bleariness dripped from your eyes and onto the pages of Aegon I’s story as you came to reality once more. 

“ It’s nearly dusk” Aemond chuckled, “ How has the conquerors story gotten you so entranced when you’ve read it nearly a thousand times before?” 

“ It’s practically a new story when you read it from a different perspective. I use to only ever understand it from Rhaenys’s point of view, but now-” You swallowed hard, not caring to finish your sentence.

“ ..but now? Whose eyes do you read through this time?” Aemond prompted, reaching to brush a stray hair from your forehead. You flinched away from the comfort, disgusted by the possibility of where those hands had been. If Aemond noticed the reaction then he did not comment on it. Perhaps out of fear that it would start an argument. 

           You looked back out the window, “ Visenya's. Though I suppose she didn't have as many qualms with her lifestyle as I do.”  

Aemond stiffened, “ I don’t see how you would relate to Visenya. Perhaps your bravery is similar-”

“ Visenya was Aegon’s first wife. She bore him a son and then his attention was mainly focused on Rhaenys. For every night he spent with Visenya, he spent ten with Rhaenys” You turned to direct your eyes to his, “ I relate to Visenya in almost every aspect now.”

" I'm not sure I know what you're implying, dear wife" Aemond's eyes narrowed. You hummed in disbelief, maintaining eye contact the whole time. Perhaps you were tired of keeping quite about his affairs.

" You should know. After all you are the Aegon in my story and your dear Alys is Rhaenys" There was no venom in your voice, why would there be? You had long since come to terms with the fact that spite wouldn't cure you.

" That's what your upset over?"

"I am not upset, Aemond. I am in fact long past being upset." You shrugged, " Turbulent emotions will never heal the damage you caused, so why would I waste my time on them?"

" Damage? I have done nothing but love you?! Have you forgotten all of our escapades from the last two months? The library, the council room, the gard-" Aemond's words quickly died when he saw how you recoiled with each place. Realization crashed into his like an icy tidal wave. It was never you. This whole time, he had been making love to Alys and not you.

You had to fight to keep your steely composure and not wretch all over the library floor, " Do I mean so little to you, that you can not even tell whether or not I'm the one you're holding?"

Aemond paled, "Witchcraft. She had to of put a spell on me. I would never-"

Aemond caught your arm when you moved to walk around him, but you refused to hear his excuses," It no longer matters. Your realization has come too late."

" Too late? You talk as if you've asked the king for an annulment"

You let out a hearty laugh, one that might've made Aemond think you were crazy, "Annulment would've been merciful. Anything besides the path I've chosen would've been merciful."

" What are you talking about? What have you done?" Aemond inquired.

" What have I done?!" Your body tremored with laughter, " Perhaps you should ask yourself that question. Better yet ask yourself that question when your tongue is down Aly-"

Aemond watched in horror as your mocking laughter turned into a coughing fit. One that resulted in the bloody flowers that haunted your every waking moment. Aemond's trembling hands latched onto your arms quickly as you began to sway. It wasn't until Aemond pressed his lips to your chilled forehead that the petals ceased. His affection was a momentary bliss that swept the chronic darkness back under the rug in your mind, but moments don't last forever.

Aemond pulled back to rest his forehead against yours, "Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped you."

"You're the reason I'm like this." You scoffed, still resting against him.

" Then let me fix my mistakes-"

" You can not love someone back to life, Aemond. I will fix this myself." Your tone held no malice towards him, rather exhaustion. The last wave of sickness had taken quite a bit from you. Nevertheless, you were strong and independent. You needed to prove to Aemond that you did not need him to save you.

" I shall retire to my personal chambers tonight. Fair well, dear husband." Hearing you say 'husband' rather than ñuha zaldrīzes, My dragon, felt like a hot lashing to Aemond. Even when the two of you fought he was always 'your dragon', but perhaps this was your way of punishing him.

" Fair well, Ñuha prūmia" My Heart, and boy oh boy did your heart stutter upon hearing that again. Regardless of the feeling in your chest you kept walking until you were out of the room. Leaving Aemond to stand in the mess of your blood. In another life that would've been the last time Aemond saw you, but something had changed.

Aemond realized weeks later that it wasn't something that had changed, rather someone, and that someone was you. Your smile had begun to come back, as had your laughter and spirit. If only he knew how many sleepless nights and burning tears you had to fight through to get those things back. Part of Aemond held hope for a moment that he had a helping hand in it. Oh how asinine he was. He should've realized that you only begun to improve after avoiding him. That your eyes would never meet his. Not even now as the two of you occupied the gardens alongside Aemys and the ever dutiful Lark. Aemond had seen the hyena in the shadows quite a bit lately, watching his every move. Almost as if the beast was your eyes.

Your giggle caught him off guard as Lark took a bundle of grapes from your hand and dropped them into Aemys's little lap, "Lark, you traitor! I knew you first!"

~ " Traitor." You had grumbled with a hidden smile as the Hyena trotted over to the pair of you casually. Aemond had let you down so that you could turn to face him.~

Aemond now wishes he would've held you a bit longer, a bit tighter, but we don't all get what we wish for. He knows that you most certainly didn't, and he is the one to blame for that.

" You said the same thing to her all those years ago when she chose me over you" Aemond chuckled, moving to crouch beside you.

You looked to him with genuine confusion clouding your eyes, " I don't remember that?"

"What?" Aemond felt his world stop for a moment.

" I only remember you telling me that you must inspect my journal to be sure that your future wife wasn't hiding any secrets" Your eyes had never held anything other than love for Aemond, but now he couldn't detect anything other than curiosity and confusion.

" Alright...how about our wedding night? What do you remember of that?"

You tilted your head in thought before speaking, " We performed our duty, I know that much."

Aemond felt his throat close up. You had done the exact same thing his mother had done when she dealt with Hanahaki's. Willingly letting go of any memory that pertained his love for you as a way to ease your symptoms. There could be no unrequited love if you didn't remember why you loved him in the first place. In your eyes your friendship had ended long ago and been replaced by a political marriage.

" My love.."

"Hmm?" You peered up at him with a newfound clarity that he couldn't bring himself to destroy. Aemond knew he would have to fight to get things back to the way they used to be. Aemond would have to earn your love and affection. Honestly, it was the least he could do after how he took it for granted mere weeks ago. The journey from friends to lover would have to be rebuilt, and Aemond was willing to do whatever he needed to. He would start in the only way he knew how.

" Would you like to see the lilacs?"

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond x reader #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon angst #angst

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

Really, we shouldn’t be surprised by now but I have more amazing jily AU fics to share because the writers of this fandom are incredibly talented and I have my screen report to prove it.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

serendipity by desperateforsanity (on ao3)

Modern college/uni AU. Dearest Students and Staff, I am pleased to announce Hogwarts University’s fourth annual Pen Pal Program. Upperclassmen and sophomores likely remember and cherish the memories of their previous penpals and are excited to make another friend this year.

TW: for the later chapters for discussions of grief and its effects on one's mental well-being. For the most part, though this is a fun fic full of great banter!

The Frenzied Misadventures of Balcony Man and Window Woman by @clare-with-no-i

prompt: "It's 3am why are you outside my window- are you trying to rob me?"

It feels necessary to preface this entire thing with the fact that, yes, James had good reason to be dangling precariously from a third-floor balcony, and anyone who says differently is simply attempting to smear his good name.

At least, that’s the story he’s sticking to.

Hijinks & Shenanigans

mellow is the man (who knows what he's been missing) also by @/ clare-with-no-i

Earl's Court. 24th May, 1975. Led Zeppelin live in concert like you've never seen them before.

FEATURING: prolonged eye contact, deeply metaphoric descriptions of cigarette smoke, painful levels of detail about makeup, and a special one-time performance by Two Teens In Love! OR: the "we made eye contact at a Led Zeppelin concert but my friends pulled me away to mosh before I could come say hello" AU

So when I say that I saw this unfold frame by frame in my head, I mean the writing is on another level. The way that I could almost smell Earl Court ... I regret waiting so long to read it. Also, found out this is written by the same author as one of my favourite jily fics foreigner’s god so that explains it “I'm not a religious person but I do sometimes think God made you for me.” ― Sally Rooney, Normal People

but he’s a little bit too far away by @firefeufuego

Historical AU. A decade after they met as cadets for The Times, the toll of James chasing stories in war zones is starting to hit home for Lily.

Taking A Shot At You by @annabtg

Modern AU. Lily Evans, pharmacist, has to work all day and night on New Year's Eve - and ends up ringing in the new year with a bloke who just got himself a dog bite.

The Right Track by BeeDaily (on ao3)

Co-workers modern AU. When James is first handed the train ticket, his immediate reaction is to laugh openly in his father's face.

the horoscope by lirians

Modern AU. James stops momentarily to give way to a bunch of rambunctious teenagers on the pavement before he regains his step. Lily has come to a halt a bit further, waiting on him.

“Horoscopes?” he asks as they move onwards. He’s relieved that any awkwardness between them is apparently gone. “How so?”

“Marly sent me mine this week because it said I would meet someone from the past again,” she explains. “I’m still not sold on the idea of it, but isn’t this weird?”

I was inspired to read this by this art

The Falcon and The Squid by @jfleamont

There's a Lego Millennium Falcon that needs to be built. There's also a bet, a ring and a bike.

Put it all together and what do you get?

Leda's jily will always be a favourite of mine. They're idiots in love your honour

Glastonbury by elanev91 (on ao3)

Prompt: we're at a music festival and you crawled into my tent when drunk and fell asleep, now you've woken up bewildered and to be honest I should be more annoyed but you're just so good looking

One Day at Time by @sweeethinny

Single-mum-lily AU. One day at a time is the mantra Lily uses to keep peace inside her mind, but there are days when it's simply impossible and in the end all she needs is a glass of wine, a cozy hug with her boyfriend, and a serious talk with her son.

Note that you can read this as a stand-alone one shot but it's part of a series that takes place in this AU

For All My Life by aheartcalledhome & SecondJadeofLan (on ao3)

When saving the bees ends in a happy family.

pumpkins and blueberries by evotter (on ao3)

Modern soulmate AU. In which Lily Evans hates puzzles, Marlene McKinnon is a coffee-making goddess, and the stuffy manager with the unkempt hair just so happens to be Lily's soulmate. In the wise words of Mary Macdonald, nothing is scarier than a relationship. Especially if it's with your soulmate.

After Moon by lovesickjily (on ao3)

When the universe sent Lily back in time for some inexplicable reason, she didn’t realise that she’d fall for the charming, messy-haired Prince along the way, nor did she realise that she’d see him once again.

here's to never growing up by elixirsoflife (on ao3)

Chat fic where a group chat documents the lives of four highly dramatic teenage boys as they navigate their A Levels.

Or, like, die trying.

Okay, I rarely ever read chat fics, they're just not my thing. BUT this one had me wheezing on my way to school. It's crack. Just treat it like crack

Ice Baby also by elixirsoflife

Modern college/uni AU. In his defence, James never expected to meet his soulmate at thirteen minutes past eleven on a Sunday morning when he’s aiming a puck at Sirius’ balls.

Or: call me sweetheart again and I'll punch you in the throat.

Not a Clue by PotterandEvans (on ao3)

Modern college/uni Quarantine AU. Lily stood in the doorway of the flat, looking at the boy in front of her. She had spent most of the last two years keeping her distance from the annoying piece of work, staying away from his ego mostly. “Come in.” She said, stepping away from the doorway to let him into the flat that she usually shared with Remus.

"Ah, so kind." James muttered as he walked inside, his heavy bag weighing him down. This really was not the ideal situation, for either of them. But he had nowhere else to go, so staying with Lily Evans it was going to have to be.

they were zoommates (requires an ao3 account) by elanev91 (on ao3)

Modern college/uni Quarantine AU. Lily's on lockdown and, because she can't help herself, signs herself up for a whole bunch of extra (and free) work with her ad agency. Minerva, her boss, assigns a cheeky social media manager to her team to help her. Also, Marlene discovers TikTok (this is nowhere near as important to the narrative as its inclusion here suggests).

And You Heard About Me (Ooh, We’ve Got Some Big Enemies!) by @wearingaberetinparis

Fame AU. Lily Evans is a Grammy-winning singer-songwriter and global superstar, who recently broke up from her latest and long-term actor boyfriend Amos Diggory. James Potter is a professional football player who plays as a forward for Manchester United and has never been quiet about his celebrity crush: Lily Evans. When Lily Evans thus plays at Wembley Stadium - a place he is more than familiar with due to his being part of the England team - he just has to go and see her perform, embracing his inner, besotted fan boy, while the woman on stage is completely oblivious to his presence. Or is she?

The most unrealistic part was man u winning (but it's James so that explains it). Regardless, I started this fic while waiting for my final grades from last year to come through, and while they were disappointing, this sure wasn't. I was crying so hard that I fell asleep. Then I woke up and continued the fic and suddenly I was giggling along with Lilly. Anything and everything Mary writes is a masterpiece. Thank you for sharing this wonderful story.

it continues (the beginning doesn't matter) by whitesunlars (on ao3)

She is the last person he expected at his door at that exact moment, despite feeling unsure about the fact that she managed to track down his address, he agrees to go out to coffee with her. A lot could be said about James Potter, but nobody could claim that he had good self-preservation skills.

They meet in a bar. Mistakes happen. They learn to keep going.

#jily fic rec #jily #jple #lily evans #james potter

[lawrencesbunnxiii]

𝙇𝘼𝙒𝙍𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙀 𝙊𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍—"𝙈𝙔 𝙋𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙄𝙊𝙐𝙎"

A/n: Got an idea for co-worker Lawrence oleander lol<3

"𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚❟ 𝙞 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚❟ 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙙𝙤 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪"

tw: Murder, Kidnapping, Stalking, slightly too detailed descriptions with blood and injury!!!

₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🔪ɞ ♡ ⊹˚

Saturday, November 2nd, 9:00 Pm...

Saturday night, the start of a weekend, and a time to relax, right? No worries for the rest of the day, possible partying, and just a day to be by yourself or whoever, doing whatever.

the rain outside dripped down on the windows with soft patters, the soft hum of a tv show on the tv in the back, the silence linguring in the air, it wasn't something that bothered you. Atleast, not now. You sat on the couch comfortable, the week was tiring and a relaxing day was deserved after that madness.

this week was restless, constant bossy commands from your boss, running around the shop helping out and puting items back on shelf's, all that madness. Customers weren't better, this week even a random lady got angry at you and your coworker "for not doing your job right". What a pain in the ass.

the really only tolerable person there was your coworker, Lawrence Oleander. it didn't seem like he talked to you much, but he seemed to talk to you more than anyone else you seen him talk to. You've learned somethings about him, about his hobby with plants, and gardening, his black tattoo on both arms, his slightly nervous and introverted personalitly and how easily it can change to annoyed and pissed off.

Despite everything, he still made work easier and tolerable for you, since he was actually the only person who actually to seem to be doing his job. You wish you got to know him better outside of work but, you weren't sure if he even wanted to talk to you, and if he was talking to you because he had no one to talk to? you never figured that out.

Ofcourse, since the week tired you out, you eventually drifted off to sleep, the soft rain and rumble of thunder put you to sleep almost in a instant, but you were glad it did, you weren't sure if you'll dose off to sleep anytime with the many thoughts filling your mind, about everything.

₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🔪ɞ ♡ ⊹˚

Monday, November 4th, 10:02 PM.

You sighed as you took off your dirt and water scattered dark green apron. the convience store you and Lawrence both worked at had a gardening center, and since the two of you shared the shift where you'd be the closing shift aswell, it was automatically that boss wanted you two to water plants.

It's already 10:02, meaning it'd be closing time soon, Lawrence was helping a woman find a last minute item to purchase, a smile crawled up your lips at the sight, as you went to put some stuff in stock quickly. Lawrence went ahead and helped the lady, before going to you to help with materials to put in stock.

"Need some help?" he asked softly, his voice was oddly soothing and soft, that's what lots of people liked about him. You smiled a tad bit more brighter and warmer at his offer, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks as you did, "yeah, it might go faster for us both to put all this in stock before closing up." he nodded, and went ahead to grab materials to put in stock.

Eventually, it was closing shift, Lawrence had already punched out, he walked towards you dressed in his normal clothes without his apron. "could you lock up?" he asked, "sorry, I just....have somewhere to be," he apologized, looking away gazing at the ground. You nodded, "sure, thats fine." you responded, "thanks," he smiled softly before exiting to the parking lot.

Punching out and locking up wasn't anything new of course since there have been times you've done it yourself, by yourself. But what was new was that odd vibe someone was watching you, you never felt like that at the workplace at all. But you brushed it off,

"it's nothing, I'm fine, it's just dark out and I'm alone I'm just paranoid." You thought, trying to soothe your nerves. Shaking it off, from the side of your eye, you swore you saw something but it was your imagination only...right? Maybe you need more sleep this week than you thought was enough last week...

pt2 ??

#lawrence oleander #boyfriend to death #btd lawrence #boyfriend to death lawrence #btd2 #part one #coworkers to lovers #friends to lovers #tw kidnapping #tw stalking #tw blood #tw murder #tw gross kinda #tw violence #tw horror #fanfic #lawrence oleander x reader #btd 2 fresh Blood

[legitalicat]

Out of Time

Chapter 5 - "Oh Brother, I've Returned"

an: While it does not fit this chapter entirely, I listened to "Brother" by Madds Buckley a lot during this chapter. As an older sister who moved out when my younger sibling was under 10, I feel the guilt of being gone while your siblings grow up without you. I highly recommend that song.

If you love this header go check out zaldritzosrose for more amazing work! She is tagged on the series masterlist and on my welcome post!

Find the series Master list here!

Summary: "It is not a ridiculous notion to fear what we do not know. Yet you cannot let your fears keep you from them."

TW: Anxiety, profanity, angst, dead daddy issues, literal bone crushing hugs, substance use, fear of addiction, detailed descriptions of Viserys I death, descriptions of severe pain, Vizzy is not a good parent, Aemond and Jace making a scene at dinner AGAIN, very large and physically intimidating men, Jaehaerys being very much a brother, Joffrey and Luke being little shithead brothers,

Romantic Pairings: Very brief focus on Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader, Very brief focus on Jacaerys Velaryon x Twin!Reader, Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon!Reader.

Other characters shining in this chapter: Ser Erryk, Jaehaera Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon, Joffrey Velaryon, Aegon iii, Viserys Targaryen ii, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Alicent Hightower

Word count: 6.6k (oops)

The fuzzy feelings disappeared by late afternoon. A bright side was that I was absolutely starving when dinner time came. When I stood from my bed, I found I still had no pain. It was great to be able to walk across the room in less than five minutes.

I met Ser Erryk just outside my room. He greeted me as he always did, cheerful and just seemingly grateful. He spoke to me of the apparent menu for the night. We were to have braised goose with roasted chestnuts and cabbage.

“You like goose?�� I asked him as we walked.

“I do, princess. It is greasy, so unappealing to some. I believe your mother is among them,” he said, smiling at me.

“It was a joke of sorts, between her and my father. A discussion they had before they were married. She likes to have it every so often as a way to remember him,” I told him.

It was true enough. The reason why Ser Laenor was who claimed us was apparent to me when I thought of him. He was never without the company of a male companion. When we first went to Dragonstone, he brought a young knight. Joffrey is named after a knight he knew in his youth, whose death devastated him in unimaginable ways. He loved them both deeply and in a way he could never love Mother.

It was known to her before they married, so when she spoke to him of the marriage, she assured him it would not impose on his life. She equated it to taste, saying like her, he preferred roast duck to goose. There was nothing wrong with that. Some people just like things and that was that.

After his death, I found Mother would request goose for our dinner. When I pointed out that he had never picked it out himself, she told me that was the point. The goose was meant to represent their effort in marriage, and for her it was a way to honor him. She had so much love for him, and he for her, even if it was not the type of love she shared with my blood father or even Daemon.

I truly believe they were soulmates. Most believed that soulmates were romantic, that it always ended with love and sex and all those things that made people gooey inside. There was not a person alive, though, that could convince me Mother and Laenor did not belong together in life even though they were not in love. You cannot have a best friend like that and tell me that the gods did not design you for that person.

Often I think how there was nobody better than Laenor to have been with her. Yes, my father and her loved one another in a way most wouldn’t understand. Yes, Daemon seems an equal match for her now. And yes, Laenor had loved his male companions the way he perhaps should’ve loved the one he married. But they understood each other on a fundamental level. They never begrudged one another, never showed anything to us that wasn’t pure love and respect for not only us but one another. Even if it were not romantic love, they were made to love each other.

“Ser Laenor was a good man. I think he would be proud of who you are,” he told me. “I truly believe that.”

Sometimes I didn’t know how to feel about Ser Laenor. He was not my blood. His opinions on me truly held no bearing in the grand scheme of things, as he was never who I had to impress. My inheritance would’ve never come from him.

But anytime I heard he would be proud of me, I wanted to beg for more. Blood or not he was my father. He was the man who claimed me. He loved me. How could I not want him to be proud of me?

“Thank you, Ser Erryk. I appreciate it,” I whispered, trying to not let my voice crack under the emotion.

We continued walking along without speaking any further. I could hear music and laughter as we approached the Small Hall. Don’t let the name fool you, though. Located in the Tower of the Hand, it had to be smaller than the Great Hall where the Throne sat, but this hall still held over two hundred people if so desired. With a family so large, it made sense to have our dinners here.

Erryk went to open the door but I reached out my hand to grab his before he could. The sounds of the ones I love being happy on the other side of this door terrified me. We were all mostly happy that night, the night I disappeared. At least we were for a moment in time.

My finger tips went numb and my bottom lip was trembling. It had been hard enough just being alone with those I’ve had time with already. But to see all of them, all at once, felt like it was an impossible task.

I had yet to speak to any of my brothers other than Jace. Trying to face the very distinct possibility of Little Aegon and Viserys disliking me felt like my stomach was being tied in knots. Joffrey was fourteen now, what if he didn’t like me either? Or if Luke was angry with me, somehow blaming me for being gone, I don’t think I could take it.

So much time had been lost. I was newly eighteen when I disappeared, now Jace and I were fast approaching twenty four. Aemond had been nineteen, Helaena twenty, Aegon twenty two, and Luke just fifteen. We all had so much time together. But Joffrey had only been nine, Little Aegon four, and Viserys only two. I had missed such a grand portion of their lives, even more when thinking of the year I was in King’s Landing beforehand, I didn’t think I could fit.

“We can go back if you wish,” Erryk said quietly to me. “I will make some excuse as to why you remain in your rooms. They needn’t know.”

“What kind of person is scared of their family for no reason?” I whispered to him, looking at him as a tear slowly rolled down my cheek.

It would maybe make sense if they had been terrible to me. But even the worst among them treated me as though I was golden. Alicent, who had undoubtedly been abhorrent to Mother and my brothers to the point she demanded all of us be brought to her when Mother was fresh from her labors, had loved me. I could distinctly remember sitting on her lap as a small child while my grandsire told Jace and I about the Kingdoms the would one day be ours.

“The first time Arryk and I went home after we were appointed to the Kingsguard, I was certain our parents would shut the door in our face,” he told me. “How could they not? I mean we were the only two heirs to our house and we both took an oath that forbade us from having lands, having a wife, having children. We effectively ended our house with us. But all our parents cared about was that we were happy and safe. It is not a ridiculous notion to fear what we do not know. Yet you cannot let your fears keep you from them.”

I could not look him in the eye. Part of me was so ashamed to feel as scared that I did. To me, it was a ridiculous notion. I’m the blood of the dragon, how could I fear anything?

He put his other hand over top mine, that still held onto him like my life depended on it. That was what let me meet his gaze. He truly looked at me with nothing but kindness in his eyes.

“When you were a girl, it is not that you were fearless. It is that you have always loved so fiercely your own fears did not stop you. When you sabotaged the soil stores so that the garden bugs would not die, you faced your mother, Queen Alicent, and your grandsire with tears in your eyes. You were scared of being in trouble, of having done something wrong. Even so, you held Helaena’s hand and explained why you did it. The night of Aemond’s injury, you were scared to anger everyone in explaining what happened. Yet, what mattered to you was the truth and so you told the truth,” he explained to me. “I offer again that I can take you back to your room and I will tell them you were not feeling well.”

The faith he had in the person I am felt comforting. At least there was one person who knew truly who I am. He had no reason to make me fit a certain mold. It was not like with Aemond or Jace in which he needed me to be this perfect representation of a person. He did not need me to understand the darkest parts of him like Aegon did. It was truly like he was a friend.

“Do not stray far from me,” I said quietly to him.

Releasing his hand, I stood straight and readied myself. He opened the door and stood to the side.

When I stepped into the room, for a moment nobody really noticed me and I just got to watch. Viserys, Little Aegon, and Maelor were all running around the room in a game. Mother and Alicent were speaking to one another, smiling. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were animatedly discussing something with Aemond and Helaena. Luke, Jace, and Aegon were all hunched over the table as they laughed about something. Joffrey was in the corner of the room sneaking a little cake.

They were all so happy. Was this truly what it was like all the time now? Had the wounds of the past been so forgotten we could live like this?

Surprisingly, the first to notice me was Jaehaera. She very obviously lit up upon seeing me and got up from her chair near immediately. Wasting no time, she went to the empty chair in between Mother and Alicent and grabbed a bouquet of flowers that had sat in it. It was then others took notice of her movements and all their eyes shifted from her to me.

When I began feeling the fear bubbling up inside me again and my fingertips once again felt numb, I just focused on Jaehaera. This little girl who was so happy when she noticed me, a little girl I adored so much, was now running to me with these flowers in her hand. They were a pretty assortment, consisting peonies, tulips, and lilies.

“Mumma says you like flowers so I picked the prettiest ones,” she said happily when she stopped in front of me. She very proudly held out her bouquet so that I could admire her work.

I smiled softly at Jaehaera as tears welled up in my eyes. “They are lovely, thank you little one,” I said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. Carefully I took the bouquet from her and held it in my hands.

They were not flawless flowers. One of the peonies had not fully bloomed while another had already begun to lose its petals. The lilies had been slightly crushed against the weight of the other flowers. I noticed the tulips had little teeny insects crawling around on them, which Helaena and her children no doubt saw as an added benefit, and as such there were teeny holes in some of the petals. But there was not enough gold in the world that could convince me to rid myself of this bouquet. Despite the flaws, I could not think of it as anything less than perfect. Erryk took them in his own hand before he arranged for a serving girl to take them to my room and put them in water.

She took my hand in hers and began pulling me along to the table. Even in her excitement, she also seemed to be careful with me like everyone else had been.

“Do you want to sit next to me??” Jaehaerys said loudly when I was in arms reach of the table. It caused Jaehaera to stop her path, therefore stopping me.

“Inside voice, bubba,” Jaehaera said softly to him before looking at me. “Excuse him. He forgets we all have ears.”

“That’s okay, Luke was like that too when he was little,” I said to her. It caused them both to grin from ear to ear.

“Did you hear that Jae Jae? I’m like Luke,” he said, noticeably quieter this time, but just as excitedly.

“I am just glad someone else knows about brothers,” Jaehaera said with a giggle.

“I would like to point out that I had no choice but to be loud to make sure I was heard over Jace’s big mouth,” Luke said as he stood from his seat.

When Luke stood I realized he was taller than me. Not near as tall as Aegon, but a noticeable few inches. It caused a great stirring of emotions in my chest. I had anticipated my brothers growing taller than me, in fact it surprised me that Jace was only my height and not taller. Yet, not being here to notice it happening caused an ache.

Especially with Luke. He was only three years younger than me, so I did not remember his birth or his little years quite like I remembered Joffrey’s, Little Aegon’s, or Viserys’. That didn’t keep me from remembering bits and pieces, though. Like, I used to help Mother pick out the clothes he wore as a baby as though he was a doll. I snuck out of bed one night when he was a newborn so that I could sleep next to his cradle. I could remember the first time he got sick and, instead of going to Mother and Laenor, he crawled into bed between Jace and I and leaked snot all over my chest.

The bad parts, the good parts, all of it was not something I would trade for the world. Despite having more conscious thoughts when the younger three were babies, Luke was my baby. To me there was nobody better. He was as good and pure as a person could get. If Mother thought I was the best parts of both my fathers, Luke was the best parts of me. He was every good thing in this world rolled into the sweetest package.

“Now you can’t hold sweets over my head and keep me from getting them,” he said playfully.

“No, but I can still sit on your head until you cry,” I responded. My own ear to ear grin spread across my face. I did not care that it hurt my lip as the skin stretched. Luke was worth it.

“I cried one time! You were crushing my ear!” he defended adamantly.

“I maintain to this day that you should not have taken my book,” I told him with a shrug.

“Hadn’t he already handed it back to you when you sat on him?” Jace asked me.

“I don’t recall asking for your input, Jace,” I said quickly causing Luke to laugh.

Luke was truly a man now. His laugh was deeper, as was his voice. He was twenty now and by no means could he be confused as a child.

He wrapped his arms around me in a near bone crushing hug. Even with the pain shooting through my ribs, I could not ask him to ease up. The world felt right the moment he hugged me. Like the years had not passed without me.

I noticed he smelled like the sea. Salt water and open sky, with just a trace of the smell of the wood the ships were made of. If I had to guess, he spent a lot of time in Driftmark now, preparing himself for when Grandsire Corlys was no longer able to hold the Driftwood Throne. When he was little and we suffered the loss of both Ser Harwin and our Aunt Laena, he feared becoming Lord of Driftmark as he knew the death that would precede that moment. If he had been able to move past that fear, I was grateful.

“Are you a sailor now?” I asked as I pulled back from him.

“Only sometimes. Grandsire has spent two years teaching me how to,” he answered. He had a shy, goofy little smile on his face.

“And I would imagine he regales you with stories of the Velaryon blood ruling the seas every moment of it,” I joked.

“Would he be him if he weren’t the proudest man alive?” he asked.

My three Velaryon brothers and Mother all chuckled at that. Genuinely speaking I could not think of a prouder man alive. Our grandfather had held House Velaryon miles above any house, including Targaryens. I think it was because the Targaryens were dragonlords making him think we were handed power, whereas Velaryons seemed to build everything themselves. There was a pride to be held in that, of course. But Westeros was not conquered by shipmasters, now was it?

With this laughter, I took a moment to look around, turning around the room, and settling to look at Joffrey. Fourteen certainly was not the age of a man but compared to the nine year old I left behind he might as well have been. My little Joffrey, whose birth was the first I truly remember, making the three of us older ones so excited. We were downright annoying when it came to him.

Jace had decided we needed to pick the egg for him ourselves. Without uttering a word to anyone, we snuck away from the dragonkeeper charged in teaching us our lesson that day and delved far into the Dragonpit. Luke excitedly picked the egg from one of Syrax’s clutches. As the three of us had been given one, with only mine not hatching, we had to give the baby an egg that came from Mother’s dragon. Our father found us as we were trying to carry the red hot cauldron to the Keep. With his help, and the enlisted help of a few keepers, we awaited the arrival of the baby eagerly.

We took turns stoking the flames underneath it to keep it warm while we waited for Mother. And when she returned, followed closely by Laenor with the baby boy in hand, Luke and Jace both desperately wanted to get close to him. Laenor and father had to practically bat them away so that our baby brother could meet our father.

For myself, I can only remember looking at my perfect family. While in that moment I had not been told the truth of my birth, I knew. It was not so much a moment of realization that none of my brothers or I looked like Laenor, instead favoring Mother’s sworn shield. It was not even hearing the rumors and embodying them as a sort of self fulfilling prophecy. No, all it took was me seeing how Laenor yielded in that moment to Harwin and seeing the way this mountain of a man became so soft when gazing upon Joffrey for me to know. He was a man who was granted love in undeniable ways and he was a part of our family.

Joffrey looked the most like our father. The four of us all had his hair color and his complexion, of course. Jace and I got his eyes, according to Mother, and I could agree. The colors were the same on all four of us, yet we got the shape. I could see on Jace the little crinkles in the corners that our father had. Luke had his smile to the point that when our father died, I desperately worked to make Luke smile for days so that I could feel the embrace of the man who created me. Yet Joffrey had it all. His eyes, his nose, his smile, even the height and bulk of him. There were traces of Mother, like in the angles of his jawline or the placement of his cheekbones. But one could be forgiven if they thought Harwin Strong walked the halls of the Red Keep again when seeing Joffrey.

How cruelly ironic. The one who only got a few meetings with our father was the one who looked to be a trueborn Strong and not the dirty little secret I always felt like. The one who would never know our father or Laenor and the way they both loved us, who was robbed of the perfect family I loved so much, was everything I begged to be. A perfect embodiment of the father I prayed returned to me sat before me in the form of the last of his children.

“Joffrey, I believe Y/N would appreciate if you could come closer,” Aemond’s voice said from somewhere out of my view. I believed he may be behind me, with Jaehaera on my left and Luke still to my right. I could not be bothered to check.

Joffrey nodded and placed the sweet down on a nearby table before walking closer to me. He wiped his hands against his pants, highlighting to me that he was wearing Targaryen colors of black and not Velaryon ones. I could see the crumbs fall to the floor as he walked. It was almost enough to make me laugh.

“Have you been so short your entire life?” he asked when he stood in front of me. He was taller than Aemond even, wider around the middle, broader along the shoulders than Jace. It was terrifying when one realized most of that was probably muscle, and most likely he had more growing to do.

“I would like to point out I am perfectly normal height,” I said, huffing a bit. “You are just tall.”

“To you. To me, you are short. Perspective, sissy,” he said.

My heart caught in my throat. It wasn’t that I had anticipated him to forget me or all the time I had spent teaching him of the world. But hearing him call me sissy and confirming that I still had a place in his heart made my own ache in unexpected ways.

Wrapping my arms around his middle, I pulled him into a tight hug. It was a hug he returned eagerly, holding me as tight as I held him. Just as with Luke, I couldn’t be bothered to care about any of the pain coursing through my body.

Luke and Joffrey had so much of me in them. Luke was my baby and Joffrey was my sidekick. Where one clung to me the other did just the same. For the longest time you could not find me without them. I did everything for them to ensure their lives. Luke and I spent hours just standing on the deck of our ship so that I could help him overcome his fear of the sea. I was the one who taught Joffrey to read, and then taught him as much as I could of politics and history. Both of them spent so much time with me in the gardens of Dragonstone as I tended to the flowers.

When I finally convinced myself that I could let go without him disappearing, I pulled away from his hold. Concern drew itself onto his face. If the empty yet extraordinarily heavy feeling in my head and the fire spreading through my chest had caused me to look as I felt in this moment, I would imagine I’d look much the same as he did. In truth I could not care to look at everyone else. Leaning forward to lean against Joffrey, I tried to steady my breathing.

“Let’s sit you down,” Luke whispered from behind me. I can only assume I nodded as he and Joffrey both supported me to sit me in the chair between Alicent and Mother. The last note of music that filled the room just moments ago echoed from every wall before the room fell into silence.

“Y/N, you mustn’t overdo it, sweet girl,” Mother said quietly, pressing a cooled rag to my head.

“I couldn’t tell them to stop, mama. My babies still love me,” I whispered to her, gripping her wrist to still her hand. The suddenness of my movement caused me a blinding flash of burning pain.

“Perhaps we should order some milk of the poppy,” Alicent suggested, looking between Mother and me.

“No, no,” I begged her, tears springing to my eyes.

Let me be clear and say I understand the benefits of the medicine. It is extremely effective in easing pain and in large enough quantities, could incapacitate an entire Dothraki horde. Though I dare anyone to watch their grandfather wither to be but a living, skin covered skeleton and he can’t even acknowledge his breathing because he is so addled by the shit.

I am not stupid enough to think back on his life and legacy and think him a good King nor even a good father. But I do know, factually know, that he was a man who loved his family dearly. A man who was taken advantage of in his deepest grief and never fixed the mistakes made in those times. A man who deserved more than to die so slowly while his brain, his very capable and beautiful brain, wasted away because of the only treatment for his pain.

When you watch a man go from being able to tell you about the Kingdom he loves, that one day you will rule, to not even being able to remember your existence, it changes things. When you watch him become so frail and thin that being turned the wrong way breaks his bones, yet remain so puffy under the eye and in his fingertips because of the poison, you may refuse it too. His younger children may not have cared, of that I will not speak on. But I cared, and it terrified me.

Would he have been in so much pain constantly if he hadn’t taken it so regularly? What if he was being treated for an ailment that was caused by milk of the poppy? And if that was true, how much would it take before I could not exist without it?

“Y/N, you cannot live in this pain,” Mother said to me.

“I cannot live like that,” I corrected her.

“Your grandsire was very sick for a long time, you will heal in mere weeks. But you cannot heal if you live in this pain,” Alicent said. Her voice was just as quiet and soothing as Mother’s as she petted my hair.

Very slowly, I adjusted my body in my chair to look to Aegon. He was watching me with silent tears in his eyes. But when our wet gazes locked together he understood what I needed. He did not need anything else from me. He understood my pain as I did his.

After pushing himself to a stand from his seat, he wasted no time in getting to my side. All the while he was reaching in his sleeve to pull out the pouch with the biscuits. Within a moment he was by my side, kneeling to be able to look up at my face.

“Stars?” he asked me. It took me less than half a breath to know he was asking how severe my pain, if it was enough to make me see stars. He knew it went beyond feeling knives in my body but he could not tell further.

“Lightning,” I muttered to him.

He had once theorized the lightning that extended from the sky during the worst of storms would be the most painful thing to be hit by. It was on a late night adventure, one that quickly turned into a two day adventure, that he had dragged me on not long before I had Vhaela. We mounted Sunfyre together and flew to Harrenhal. Quick enough flying on Sunfyre, though it took nearly all night. When we had arrived, a storm had come overhead, and we watched as lightning struck the large castle no less than three times. The stone was surprisingly mostly unscathed, save for the burn marks permanently etched on its side. When we spoke of a human withstanding just one strike, he said you’d nearly die from the pain alone.

It was how I knew he would understand. This was not the pain I experienced falling from my bed when I was six. This was a burning, pulsating pain that caused me to lose parts of my sight. A pain so severe I could not breathe properly.

He helped me eat a significant bit more than what I had earlier. Mainly because every time I moved myself I was hit with another flash of pain. It was just easier to allow his help.

“The larger portion may not quicken the effects but it will help manage your pain better,” he said quietly to me. “Tell me what I can do in the meanwhile.”

“Stay right here and have everyone return to their joy,” I whispered to him as I took his hand. “At the least I wish to see everyone smile.”

He nodded softly and looked to Alicent. Within a few minutes, the music started back up and not long after that the chatter started up again. I would have to be oblivious to not notice the worried looks Mother and Alicent still gave me. Though those looks were nothing compared to the way Aemond and Jace were glaring at Aegon.

Genuinely speaking, it was a lot like watching children. It was as though Aemond and Jace had never once considered that anyone else would want to play their game. They only considered each other and knew what to expect from them. But now they viewed Aegon as a competitor.

Was Aegon a competitor? Sure he had said earlier how he loved me, that I was the only woman he loved. But he did not put his hand forward. He did not express a desire to be with me despite the love he held for me. I could no more count him as a contender for my heart as I could Ser Erryk.

Where Aemond and Jace looked on at him in anger, Aegon paid no mind. His eyes were focused solely on me. And every time I met his gaze, I gave him a small squeeze in the hand.

Six songs passed before I felt any relief. At first it wasn’t noticed until I could take a full breath. It was when I turned my head to watch as the food was brought in that it became clear that I could now manage. It seemed it became clear to Aegon, too, as he left my side and took his place back across from Luke.

Luke, Jace, and Aegon took the seats on the end of the table nearest the windows. Luke and Aegon on the very end, Jace beside Aegon. Joffrey took a spot next to Luke. Then beside Joffrey sat Aemond, and beside Jace there was Helaena. Next to Aemond was Alicent, with Jaehaera across from her. Then you had me and I was sat across from Jaehaerys. To my right was Mother, and across from her sat Maelor. There was two empty seats on Mother’s other side, and across from them was Little Aegon and Viserys. Then a singular chair that looked down the whole of the table sat on the very end, also empty, and that was closest to the kitchen.

Alicent lead us all in prayer. Truthfully, I probably should’ve paid more mind to the words she was saying. It mattered a lot to her, Helaena, and even Aemond. Yet, when I looked down the table and saw Aegon watching my every move, every thought from my head left. So instead, I looked directly at my plate.

The juices that flowed from the goose glistened in the candlelight that danced against every surface in stunning opposition to how the dark gravy absorbed light. The cabbage and roasted chestnuts sat to the side of it, looking decently appealing on their own. There was a basket of bread placed down for every four people. All of the adults, save Aegon and I, had a large cup of wine sitting in front of them. If Aegon and the children had the same as me, we all had water. Once Alicent was done saying her prayers, the only sound to be heard was all of us eating our food.

It was delicious. Though it was not a surprise to me, as the cooks here in King’s Landing had always been phenomenal. Maybe it was the fuzziness in my head that made it more apparent. Yet, it seemed more complex than normal. The meat was almost sweeter, the gravy with a level of saltiness that counteracted it perfectly. The chestnuts were almost like velvet in my mouth, creating a feeling akin to butter. Even cabbage, that I normally did not like, was something I would pick again and again.

“Did you try to come back?” A small voice asked. I looked up, only to see Viserys staring at me.

“Viserys,” Mother said firmly. It was her warning tone. Perhaps she did not think it proper for him to question me.

“I can’t remember,” I said quietly. “But I cannot imagine a reality in which I did not fight to return back to you all.”

“Is that why you are all beat up?” Little Aegon asked me.

“Aegon,” Mother said with the same firmness. I reached to take her hand in mine and gave it a small squeeze. She needed to understand that they were allowed to ask me, I could not fault them for being confused.

“Possibly. But I do not remember,” I told him.

“Do you remember anything?” they both asked at the same time.

“Not from when I was gone, no,” I whispered. “But I remember before I was gone. I remember loving the two of you so much. I am sorry I disappeared, and I am sorry that you both grew up without me.”

All of that was mostly true. I hated my disappearance, as it did take me away from everyone I loved. Yet to say I do not remember anything from the time I was gone may not be true.

In my thoughts, I could wade through the fog that the biscuit causes. Only in this feeling did I get any information from my brain. When I tried desperately to remember the last five years, there were only two things that my mind could conjure up. A glowing vial of shimmering red fire that I am near certain was a potion swirled in and out of my mind’s eye. And there was a distinct feeling loneliness, of knowing that where I existed was not where I belonged.

The shade of red of the potion was eerily familiar. While equating it to fire would be the right way to imagine the way that the liquid flowed, it was poor in grasping the color. One could tell me that someone was able to melt rubies into this vial and I would believe them. That was the only physical thing that was colored correctly.

Until I could explain more or had more answers, I would not say anything. With how desperate Mother and Aemond were for vengeance, giving them half answers could cause more damage that it would repair. It was not worth it.

“Do you want to come to our dragon lessons tomorrow?” Little Aegon asked.

Unable to verbalize my answer, I nodded. Spending time with my two littlest brothers felt like exactly what I needed. They may not be quite sure about me at all, but they were willing to give me a chance. I suppose that is all I could ask for.

The sound of a chair scraping against the stone floor brought my attention to the left side of the table. Aemond stood with his cup raised. My jaw tightened. The last time he gave a toast, he managed to call my brothers bastards while ignoring that it meant I too was a bastard. It caused a fight to break out, with Jace punching Aemond and Aegon slamming Luke into the table. I was not wanting a repeat and I doubt anyone else did.

“A toast,” Aemond said. “To the return of Ali. The Keep had truly existed in a darkness without you.”

A heat rose to my cheeks with his words. It was tame, I suppose, with what he could say. Although, I do wish he would just have not brought any further attention to me. I don’t think I would be able to say anything to him though.

“I wish to take this moment to make it clear,” he said. As always there was a confidence he held that I couldn’t shake. “Byka zaldrīzes, no longer do I wish to hide my affections. It is here and now that I am declaring my intention to marry you.”

My heart started skipping beats. While he had said it aloud to me, he had not voiced it to anyone else. And it wasn’t entirely like it was a secret, as he had always been rather obvious. With this declaration there was no longer a doubt about where I stood with him.

Jace stood up quickly, slamming his hands on the table as he did so. “She is my twin, Aemond, my betrothed. You do not get to decide such a thing,” he said angrily.

Aegon grabbed Jace’s shoulder and pulled him back into a sitting position. I was aware of Aemond smirking as he watched Jace. Leave it to him to make this a little game, a game which he is certain he will win.

“It is not your decision, either,” Aegon told him as though he were spitting poison at him. My jaw dropped slightly. It was not usual that I saw him actually angry.

“And you think you get any say?” Aemond asked his older brother.

“I think the two of you are so focused on this pissing contest that’s been going on since we were children you fail to realize that she is hurt,” Aegon shouted, standing up. Despite being shorter than Aemond and not as broad as Jace, he somehow made himself look larger. He made himself an unmoving force.

“I better than anyone know that she is hurt,” Aemond said darkly, to which Jace voiced the same sentiment.

“Are you both so truly lost in your desires that you are ignoring the anguish she is in? She caused herself so much pain she was barely conscious just so she could feel as though she still has a place! Do not pretend this is about anyone other than the two of you,” Aegon shouted.

“And what of you? What is your plan, dear brother?” Aemond asked, moving himself to appear larger.

The difference between them in this moment was fascinating. Aemond wanted to prove his dominance. He felt he had some claim to me just because of the love he and I share. With Aegon, though, it was because he wanted to prove nothing more than he was capable of protecting me.

Aegon turned to look at me. I could see him ease up almost immediately. It was like just the sight of me was enough to calm him.

“I am here however you choose to have me,” he said softly, addressing me directly.

#dividers by benkeibear #aegon targaryen ii #out of time #jacaerys velaryon #aemond targaryen #tom glynn carney #hotd #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #ewan mitchell #jacaerys velaryon x reader #house of the dragon

[bajablastwrites]

Okay, I know there’s only going to be a solid 50% chance of you actually doing this request but I’m willing to take the chance because I can’t shake the feeling that you’re the perfect person to give this ask to. How would Saiki react to a s/o that suffers from… not exactly intrusive thoughts…but still thoughts that randomly pop into her head that’s straight out of a horror movie? Like they can never open the front door normally without randomly picturing someone stabbing them as they open it.

What do you mean it’s not normal?

TW: somewhat detailed description of gore

Saiki x fem reader

Authors Note: you’re right anon! I am the right person because I too have questionable, graphic, horrendous, disgusting and extremely detailed thoughts like this. (I had unrestricted access to the internet as a kid and my morbid curiosity always wins when it comes to graphic content, builds character and I don’t regret it👍🏼) I was originally going to just go with just the questionable thoughts but it turned into a completely different thing so… oops. Hope you still like it tho!

—————————————————————————————

so I’m going too assume you also had unrestricted access to the internet and your thoughts really show it with how gory and graphic your imagination is. It concerns Kusuo a little bit since they just pop up during the most normal and mundane tasks.

Or sometimes you’ll just space out and your mind wanders to that one gore video from you saw on online one day that was filmed by the Mexican cartel, with quality so shit it might as well have been filmed with a microwave.

Now Kusuo doesn’t think you’re a bad person at all, just because your morbid curiosity has you stare at a dead body for a bit doesn’t mean you’ll want to recreate them. You’re no sicko after all.

But it always catches him off guard because he never knows when it’s going to happen, especially if they involve you. You had the most detailed scenario on what would happen if the person behind you pushed you down the schools stairs or shoved you over the railing and your only thoughts afterwards was “damn that’d suck real bad.” Which concerned him even more. What do you mean “that’d suck real bad.” It’ll be more than just sucking really bad. Man’s was flabbergasted.

He’s followed you home and used his clairvoyance on you on multiple occasions because you’d randomly have thoughts of offing yourself— like a “if I had to” scenario. You had everything from how you’d do it, down to even the contact info of company who’ll clean up any blood or other biohazards left behind. Like how or why do you know the contact info for a clean up crew?

Now that he knows you and you know about his powers, he now intervenes on your graphic thoughts if they involve you.

I feel like he also has a morbid curiosity as well so he’ll also be weirdly fascinated with things like gore to a mild extent. But if your thoughts involve you he’ll be quick to interrupt your thoughts by saying something like “stop it.” That’s probably the only time he’ll get a little upset with you and your graphic thoughts. He knows you can’t control your thoughts but like, can you not think about those things happening to you, please?? He doesn’t care about your thoughts unless they involve you getting hurt or dying in someway because he cares about you, will he tell you that? Absolutely not!

You’re still his favorite person even if he won’t admit it to you or himself.

A weird advantage of your dark and gory thoughts is that you also have some useful medical knowledge as well. You know where important arteries are located and such.

But back on topic, Kusuo likes to have you around when he’s with Toritsuka. Man’s was scared of you after Kusuo asked you what the worst way to kill someone would be and you gave the description of the worst Mexican cartel gore video to exist. (If you know, you know)

“Just out of curiosity. What’s the most creative and painful way to kill a person?” Kusuo asked as you began to sort through all the horrendous and atrocious things you’ve seen. “I mean you want them to be awake you’ll have to drug them with adrenaline. For maximum pain use dulled knives or machetes to chop off the hands and feet, maybe skin them too— it’ll take a lot of work because the blades are dull but they’ll feel everything and be awake for it all. It’ll get pretty bloody though.” You said as you had a vivid memory of the atrocity you’ve seen on the place you call the internet. “Good to know.” He patted your shoulder, satisfied with your answer. What he saw you visualize was less satisfying to him though.

Toritsuka fears you just as much as he fears Saiki. To add to your fear factor, your guardian spirit is either a mortician or a critical care surgeon. Man’s starts sweating when he’s partnered with you during any cooking assignment— or when you have any sharp or pointed object in your hand. Kusuo can’t help but feel proud that you can put the fear of god in him just by holding a pen or pencil, even if you don’t mean to.

Speaking of scaring people, you used scare Kaido when he first met you. You know how he was first scared of Aren when he first met him, it was like that with you as well. He’s not scared of you anymore— or at least not as much as he used to be. You still make him a little nervous though. In his head he sees you as Dark Reunion’s ultimate weapon that was created to defeat him, but ended up becoming a failed experiment and rebelled against them to fight by his side.

Now you and Aren get along really well. He really likes you, he likes to ask you “hypothetical” questions. So you both look very sus, since he’s making questionable scenarios and you have answers for said questionable scenarios. They mostly involve ways to help or get people to the hospital in time if said scenarios were to happen, so it’s oddly wholesome. Kusuo is always nearby because (he’s salty) you guys look like you’re planning a murder and he can’t have you guys getting arrested— it’ll draw too much attention to his class. It’s not that he cares about you guys! (He doesn’t want Aren taking away his only favorite person)

Your aura is somewhat unsettling at the start according to Aiura, like there’s a layer of dark purple clouds or fog surrounding you but once you get passed them it’s a warm and golden aura. Good people work behind the scenes after all.

Speaking of good people Hairo also likes you, man respects you even. He knows how to stop heavy bleeding, what to do if someone has a seizure, breaks a bone, etc.

Teruhashi thought what you were saying was either bullshit or saying it to impress Kusuo since he’s always with you. (I love Teruhashi, but I like slandering her a little bit more) She made the most elaborate scenario in her head about you wanting to be a nurse or doctor in order to get close to Kusuo and be able give him a “physical” (Kusuo didn’t appreciate that visual and wanted to go back to your gory thoughts afterwards) she tried to learn random facts about the body to try to get Kusuo’s attention but you always add more details or facts because you just simply know more (it’s that mortician/surgeon guardian spirit watching over you I swear) you add in extra information in ways that is easy to understand too. So she kinda just gave up because she can’t memorize all that shit to try and out perform you.

Despite your gory and graphic thoughts Kusuo still likes you, wouldn’t change a thing about you— well if he could have you stop making up scenarios where you die or get severely hurt he would, but that’s about it! Loves you just the way you are.

#saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #saiki x reader #kusuo x reader #saiki k hcs #saiki k headcanons #saiki headcanons #the disastrous life of saiki k.

[eldritch-spouse]

To maybe expand on the whole noncon/gory stuff with Vesper-

When we turn into a concubus, how rough can this guy be with us? How fast can we heal from, say, him obliging an ask from us to give us a new hole and fuck it? Or him stretching us out with his cocks until we cannot physically stand it and end up ripping?

I am so used to him being so gushy and lovey dovey, and I wanna see that be turned around on us in a total mood shift from him, but I am not sure if that is something he would do? Would he be cruel to us if we ask?

I wanna ask about more stuff but I also don't want to be too weird? I love games like Fear and Hunger and Boyfriend to Death/The Price of Flesh. Harvestman is just *muah*.

[Ah, Fear and Hunger... I'm fond of the night lurch. You can ask about anything, my limits are stated in the pinned post, judgement from miss cannibal-chef-enjoyer is not something you should fear.]

TW: Gore; Detailed descriptions of (normally) fatal sex acts.

See, the moment your transformation into a concubus is physically complete (because, mentally, you will need longer to be considered stable), you already have a level of physical resistance powered by your natural arousal and sinful nature that you never had as a human. Vesper could penetrate you without preparation, while it would still hurt, you won't rip from it provided you're a healthy succubus.

In fact, once you're fully ready for it, Vesper will become a lot less careful about certain things. After all, you're going to turn into a mighty thing, a high-ranking consort- You'll be able to handle the depths of much of Vesper's depravity and respond a lot more intensely to it given he happens to be your "concubus sire".

Physically clawing a new hole into you, or ripping you open from cunt to asshole is something Vesper can and will do if you request it, though these instances are always very well discussed, and you're loaded with magics to prevent the traumatic type of paralysis caused by extreme pain, or disassociation, and he will also get something to prevent you from bleeding out under him.

Vesper is goring you out of love and desire, so he wants you to get the most out of it too.

He wants you to grasp your own organs within your new shaking clawed hands as he plows you, uses your own intestines to choke the air out of your exposed lungs while licking into your insides to make sure every cell of yours spins with the delirium of his aphrodesia.

If you have the energy, the bravery, to look down and see the obscene bulge of his cocks inside you, stretching the walls of your infernal womb into a thin film that looks oh so close to ripping apart yet feels like the closest thing to ascension into a higher plane- See the split open mess that has become your lower body and feel your legs twitch, broken, clinging to ravaged nerve endings and dislocated bone... Vesper wants you to know it's all the result of his love for you.

When he says he wants to have you in every possible way, it means spreading his claim in every part of you, fucking parts of you that should never be open to the world, because that's something only someone who loves you will do. Go that far, see that much, bathe it all in cum then watch your brain pop and crackle as it tries to do anything with the level of manic arousal that courses through your organism like an amorous poison.

Oh he will break you.

Then put you back together.

And break you again.

#Vesper oc #grimgromgrim

[fairy-writes]

New to requesting so please tell me if this is the incorrect way to do it Im obssessed with your writing can I request

Uta x human reader angst/comfort

SCARS

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

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Fandom(s): Tokyo Ghoul

Pairing(s): Uta x Reader

Word Count: 

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Human!Reader, CCG Investigator!Reader, Angst, Comfort

Notes: I used THIS prompt by @whumpster-dumpster as… well… a prompt!

This is also the same reader used in both THIS and THIS oneshot!

TW for blood and injuries

__________________________________________________________________________

Uta should’ve known you had scars. 

It was practically part of your job description as a CCG Investigator. 

He just didn’t expect them to be so… severe. 

It was an accident, really, seeing them. Uta had popped by your apartment after a long week, intending to take you out on your weekly date night. He had let himself in with his key and spied your briefcase containing your quinque and white trenchcoat tossed on the couch. 

So you were home. 

He had changed into indoor slippers and meandered his way down the hall. Knocking on your bedroom door and hearing no answer, he opened it and peeked his head inside. 

Only to come face to face with your bloody back. 

How had he not smelled it before? He was a ghoul, after all, maybe he just wasn’t paying attention to his nose.

Admittedly, at first, he panicked. But he managed to school his face into a perfect calm when you whirled around to face him. 

“What are you doing here?!” You demanded, and he shrugged, the scent of drying blood tickling his nose.

“I did knock.” Was all he said as he took your demand as an invitation to enter your bedroom. 

The sheets of your bed are rumpled and bloodstained. Maybe you had been sleeping and woken up because of the blood? 

Your white button-down is in a crumpled heap on the floor, and you’re holding a roll of bandages in red-stained fingertips. Uta’s words make you scoff, and you turn around to try and keep wrapping your injuries. 

“I asked why you were here.” You say sharply, and he hums as he sits behind you on the bed.

“It’s date night.” He says simply, and you let out a pained laugh,

“I don’t think I’m in the best position to go out on the town tonight.” You say, and he gently pries the bandages from your hands and wraps your torso for you. 

He’s done this before, but never to this extent. A scratch here, some stitches there, he forgets sometimes that you humans are so fragile. 

Uta is gentle as he passes the roll from hand to hand and wraps your injuries. 

Your wounds are deep, though not deep enough to need stitches. They’re angry, red, and inflamed as if an infection is beginning to set in. If he had to guess, you are probably hurt because of a fellow ghoul. He shakes his head. He can ask for details later. 

When he’s done, he secures the wrappings and pats your shoulder twice. But his eyes keep tracing the raised ridges of skin that decorate your back like Christmas lights. 

At least, until you turn around and catch just what he’s looking at. 

And your face turns angry.  You push Uta away with harsh words.

“What? What’s your problem, huh?” You snap, and he raises an eyebrow. 

You keep going, 

“Are you afraid to look at my scars? Disgusted? You think you’re too good for me now that I’m ‘damaged goods’?”

“Of course not.” He says gently, trying to calm you down, but you just keep going. Tears well up and streak your cheeks. But you push him away when he tries to reach for you.

“Then look at me like I’m still a person! Look at me like you used to! Like you love me!” 

He finally pins your arms down and pulls you into a hug. Gently, of course, so as not to aggravate your back. He presses a kiss to your temple.

“I still love you. Fiercely and unconditionally. A few scars aren’t going to change that.” He says and feels you thump his chest with a weak fist. It doesn’t hurt. Not physically, at least. But his heart breaks at your shaking form in his arms. 

“Then why look at me like I’ve changed?” You whisper, and he rocks you back and forth.

“Because you have changed. We all change when you think about it.” He says and feels your tears wet his sweater.

“Don’t get deep with me. Not when I’m injured.” He huffs out a chuckle and pulls back, checking you over once again. 

You’re okay. 

And that’s all he can ask for.

#uta x reader #tg uta x reader #tokyo ghoul x reader #tokyo ghoul uta x reader #tg x reader #tokyo ghoul #tg #fairy writes

[viaoverthemoon]

Unavoidable

Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader

Okay, this one is pretty self-indulgent bc I'm REALLY dreading that I have to do this soon. I've been told it isn't that bad and I've been told it hurts like hell. Guess I'll just have to find out.

DISCLAIMER: I have never physically experienced a pap smear before! Please do not think that what happens in this is ACTUALLY how it feels. This is just how I THINK it would feel.

Summary: You ask Leon to come with you for your very first pap smear that you have been dreading so long about.

Tw: Mentions of medical equipment, Uncomfortable medical procedures, pain, reader has a fear of doctors, minor description of anxiety (if u squint), lotsss of praise, comfort, fluff

DETAILED MEDICAL PROCEDURE AHEAD!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

Enjoy!

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"Oh my gosh, I'm so nervous,"

Leon tightly holds your hand as you sit on the stiff hospital bed, watching as your other hand anxiously fiddles with the hospital gown you wear.

You'd been dreading this day for the past week. After giving your virginity away to Leon, you'd told your mother. She'd immediately suggested getting the pap smear you'd once told her you wouldn't get until you lost your virginity.

You spent the week doing intense research, seeing multiple reactions that different people have had. None of them were the same, and that scared you beyond belief.

Leon watched your silent meltdown, wishing there was something he could do. He did his own research as well, diving into the internet and becoming slightly uncomfortable, but still trying to find out if there was some way he could comfort you. His search ended in uselessness, him not being able to find anything that would help him aid you.

But he saw a chance for redemption when you suddenly asked him to come with you.

And so the day had come.

Leon rubs his thumbs over your knuckles, noticing the trembling of your hands. "Don't be nervous sweetheart. I'm right here. Just hold on to me."

You smile at Leon, about to tell him how appreciative you are, but jump when the door opens.

The doctor enters the room, eyes looking at the two of you before she smiles softly. "First time?"

You offer a shaky smile and nod as you hold Leon's hand a little tighter.

The doctor laughs softly as she takes a seat in the rolling chair and flips through the papers on her clipboard. "I'm so sorry, love. But I'll try and makes this as quick as possible, promise. Let me ask you a few questions first."

She asks you the basic questions; 'Are you sexually active?' 'Is there a possibility that you may be pregnant?' 'When was your last menstrual cycle?' The classics.

Once she finishes the questions, she stands from her chair and begins to put the equipment she needs onto a small tray.

A sharp exhale leaves your lips and you opt to staring at the ceiling rather than what she's gathering, taking deep breaths to distract yourself.

Leon rubs your shoulder in a comforting manner, whispering small praises into your ear as he moves your hair to the side to kiss your temple. The doctor explains the process to you as calmly as possible.

"I put some gel on the speculum to ensure that it goes in easy and comes out easy. You may feel a slight pinch, but this shouldn't last longer than 2 minutes max. After that, I'll insert a swab and wipe around the cervix, and then I'll insert a soft brush into the cervix. After that, we're done!"

God, why are you sweating so much?!

You nod to the doctor as she pulls on her gloves, the anxious feeling never leaving as you try to take deep breaths. Leon kisses your shaking hand. "You're doing so good, angel. It'll be over before you know it."

You squeeze his hand to let him know you heard him before the doctor speaks again. "Okay, starting with the speculum,"

You wince a little at the intrusion as your heart leaps. And just when you think 'this isn't so bad', you feel the stretch.

You squeeze Leon's hand again and little ow, ow, ow's leave your lips as you whip your gaze away from the doctor. She and Leon begin to tell you how good you're doing and how it's almost over.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart. You're doing so good! Don't even look at her, just look at me. I'm right here. I've got you."

The praise momentarily takes your mind off of the tickling feeling of the swab, until the brush comes and enters your cervix.

You suck in a breath between your teeth at the less painful pinch, bringing yours and Leon's wrapped hands to your mouth to keep from swearing at the poor doctor.

Then she pulled out the brush, closing the speculum and taking it out of you. "Okay! All done! You did such a good job!"

You heard her but you hardly understood her, eyes brimming with tears as you slowly turn towards Leon. He takes one look at your wobbly lip and turns to the doctor. "Would you mind giving us a minute?"

The doctor gets the message immediately, collecting her things and the equipment before heading for the door. "Of course! Leave whenever you're ready! I'll get these to the lab and your results should be ready in 2-3 business days!"

The second the door closes behind her, the dam in your eyes finally bursts. You felt stupid for crying. You had no reason to. But the tears and sobs were unrelenting. You clung to Leon and he held you, smoothing your hair.

"It's okay sweetheart. You did so good. and I'm proud of you. That wasn't easy, I know."

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Can y'all tell I hate going to the doctor? :))))

I listened to 'Yes to Heaven' by Lana Del Ray while writing this <3

Hope you enjoyed!!

Requests are open!! <3

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #resident evil #viaoverthemoon #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #re4 leon #re4 #resident evil x reader #x reader #smut #resident evil leon #leon s kennedy #reader insert

[aglaias-blog]

"Kindred Spirits" Chapt.5

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Author's note: In this chapter the reader's last Maiden's Day is described. I couldn't find many details about how this day would be celebrated, so I added some of my own ideas.

TW: afab!reader, soulmate AU, description of a panic attack, talk of religion/religious practices, homesickness, arranged marriage

Summary: Being a highborn lady, a love match is out of the question for you, much less a match with your soulmate. You're not even told about the intricacies of what meeting your soulmate entails. When you are tricked into a betrothal to Aemond Targaryen by your parents, you don't know how to handle things. The Prince's cold demeanor is off-putting, but he is also the only one who is willing to help you, the only one you can depend on. Just how is all this going to play out?

Kindred Spirits Masterlist

You awoke with a jolt, trying to fight the invisible vice that tightened more and more around your chest, forcing the air from your body. Struggling to breathe, you turned on your side, using your arm as support. Each breath you took seemed to be exhaled immediately, never reaching your lungs. The darkness of the room swirled around you, making your head spin – the void would swallow you whole!

Your head hung low, as the chocking neckline of your nightgown was now under the violent attack of your clawing hand. You were going to die, you were sure. The panic had made you numb to the way your nails dug into the delicate skin of your neck, over and over again, in a desperate attempt to relieve you from this suffocating nightmare.

Finally, you felt the fabric tear. The arm that was supporting you on the bed nearly gave out when you coughed, taking your first trembling breath. Protectively, you placed your hand on your chest - your heart was hammering painfully against its cage.

Slowly, you tried to move your fingers in your other hand - it had cramped into a painful fist, grabbing the bed linen. The sweat on your brow had cooled by now, but your breathing was still shallow.

You desperately needed light, to fight the dark, to chase away the demons that had possessed you mere seconds ago--

At the first feeling that you might retch, you stumbled out of bed – but instantly found yourself on the cold floor when your legs gave out underneath you. More than the pang of pain in your knees you felt the sting of tears, pricking behind your eyes. However, you brought yourself to crawl to your nightstand, trembling fingers feeling for the spill and candle in the dark. Finally, you had found both, and with wobbly legs you got up, taking small steps towards the fireplace.

The once lively crackling flames were dead, leaving only the last glowing embers. You lit the spill, and then the candle – sighing in relief when you felt its warmth on your face, the golden light spilling from the floor onto the walls. Now that you were safe, you couldn’t hold back the first sob that forced its way out of you.

You had convinced your mind of the inevitability of marriage - but your heart hadn’t understood.

The months you had spend learning about „wifely duties and virtues“, the lessons in leading a household, had all been in vain, you realised now. They hadn’t prepared you at all for what it truly meant to be sent to a foreign part of Westeros, where you knew nobody, what it felt like to be entirely on your own – left without the comfort of your parents, your siblings, your septa. It was eat or die here, sink or swim.

You couldn’t allow yourself to be – you always had to be watchful, throwing wary glances over your shoulder. And you only had been here for three damned days! You didn’t dare imagine what it would be like when you had to live here. When you would be a married woman. The thought of it alone made you whisper a quiet plea to the Maiden.

At dinner the sweet wine had lowered your guard, making you be your honest self – more open, genuine – you loved connecting with people and hearing their stories. Until the moment that you sensed that the things the Lords were asking were only disguised as simple questions – but were aiming for something much more dangerous, indeed.

At home the courtiers were no different, you just hadn’t needed to do the sorting yourself – your father had done it for you back then, shown you whom you could trust, and those you couldn’t trust hadn’t dared to come near you under the watchful eyes of your parents.

But here you had to fend for yourself. With a future husband who was aloof and cold, whom you could never share a bond with. Who had stared at you like an ox at a new gate when you and Maelor had tried to lift his spirits. Though, it was the first time you had seen him smile. The expression had looked foreign on his face.

Did he even want children? No, did he even like children? You assumed that he wanted children, being part of the royal family meant that producing heirs was a primary concern. But did he like them? You were unsure if you wanted to have children with someone who was as arrogant as him, who didn’t know how to show kindness to a toddler!

Yet, with marriage unpreventably came children, that much you knew. Your septa had taught you that after marriage, a child would follow within a year, usually. She had refused to tell you more about it, when you had asked for details, as it was an „inappropraite topic of conversation“.

You couldn’t stomach the thought of bearing his children – beautiful children, yes, but children who would turn out as haughty and withdrawn as their father. The humid cold that seemed to always permeate these thick walls appeared to have found its way into your heart.

Your only light of hope was your return home. Admittedly, it was only to officially come back to the Red Keep as his bride. The three weeks you would be given were far from sufficient, the journey alone would take a week! But it was enough time for you to gather your affairs, to bid your family farewell. Enough time for them to prepare your celebratory procession through King’s Landing at your arrival. Enough time to organize everything for the...marital rite, for the feast that was to follow.

The mere thought of leaving your siblings made another painful sob wrack through your body. You wouldn’t be able to see them nearly as often as you’d like. Your loyalty would lie with the royal family, and not with your own - your priority would be the realm, rather than seeing your home again.

Leaving your husband’s side would rarely be allowed, and travelling without a guardian was unheard of – a guardian which would be your husband, or a trusted member of his family or the court. And the way things were looking now, you knew that he would debar you the pleasure of making the journey with you, only to see your family. Any travels that weren’t related to business of the crown would be refused, you were sure.

Yet, should your siblings come to see you, they would be obligated to treat you as a member of the royal family. With marriage, your husband would be your family, and you would be royal – and were expected to be treated as such, even by your own family. Maybe something could be done about that, though. The relationship you had to the Queen seemed to have been a good one, from the start. Surely, she could make some changes to the royal protocol?

The sudden knock at the door startled you from your thoughts. Who could that be? A quick glance to the window told you that the sun hadn’t come up yet, it was much too early for anyone to be awake.

„My lady?“, you heard Alanna’s gentle voice behind the door which then slowly opened.

„My lady, are you alright?“ She sounded much more worried now that she saw you slumped over in front of the dead fireplace. Her worry quickly turned into serious concern when she noticed the state of your nightgown - and then the rough traces on your neck of where you had torn it.

Putting the garments she was carrying on the bed, she was by your side instantly, her hand on your back rubbing soothing circles – the warmth of her touch burning through the thin fabric of your nightgown made you realise that you were shivering.

„My lady, you must get up, you’ll fall ill if you stay on the floor“, Alanna said quietly, helping you to your feet and guiding you to your bed, putting the thick blanket around your shoulders hastily.

„What happened?“, she asked softly, taking your hands in hers, trying to warm them up.

You didn’t know what to say. Almost ashamed of the state you were in, you cast your eyes down.

„I couldn’t breathe - I- I don’t think- I’m not sure that I can do this“, you finally brought yourself to say. Your quivering voice sounded strange in your ears.

She understood immediately. You didn’t need to say more – your wet lashes and tear-dimmed eyes told her enough.

„If you truly do not wish to go forth with this betrothal, it can be called off“, she said, searching your eyes for any sign of real doubt. You knew, as well as her, that it would be scandalous to call off a royal engagement. Wars had been declared over broken betrothals! Even if it was against the law of the Seven Kingdoms to marry an unwilling person, rejecting a marriage rarely happened among nobility. You knew that the House Targaryen would see it as a severe insult should you withdraw now. Who in their right mind would refuse marriage with a Prince?

You also knew that you couldn’t avoid this altogether. The proceedings of a betrothal and marriage would always follow the same pattern, no matter into what family you would marry.

„I cannot break this betrothal“, you said quietly then. Doing so would put your family in jeopardy and shame on your house. Your father would never forgive you if you ruined the pact he so excellently negotiated. And you would never have a better opportunity than this – marrying into the royal family was an honour.

Seeing you so lost in your own thoughts, Alanna offered you a reassuring smile, hoping to cover her concern for you. It didn’t work - you saw right through her.

Then, your gaze fell on the gown Alanna had brought with her. You recognised the thick white fabric immediately. Right. Maiden’s Day. You had completely forgotten about it, whisked up in the chaos of yesterday. This was the reason why she had come to wake you so early.

The moment your maid heard the sound of heavy steps outside, she went to the fireside quickly, taking the candle and spill and putting it back on your nightstand. Not a second later, the servant knocked at the door. She had come to light the candles and the fire again. When she saw the thick blanket around you, she apologised profusely, hurrying to bring warmth to the chamber as quickly as possible.

Gently, you reassured her that you had been warm all throughout the night. It was a lie. Ignoring Alanna’s knowing look, you hoped that she would believe it.

After the servant had left, you got up, standing in the middle of the room, while Alanna dressed you. The dress weighed you down, the fabric feeling rough and heavy on your body.

Today was a holy day, meant for special worship of the Maiden. All noble maidens believing in the Seven Who Are One were expected to go to the sept before sunrise, showing reverence for Her, lighting candles and singing songs of innocence.

Tradition demanded that you came before the Maiden plainly, you were allowed no jewellery; no ornaments and no pins were to be used on your hair, except for the pinning of your veil. Your woollen dress was to be simple and unadorned, without colour.

The collar went up to your jaw - covering the swollen traces of where your night gown had chafed your neck when you had struggled to rip it.

Alanna was now carefully fixing the thin veil on your head. She had done so every year on this holy day ever since you were twelve years old. The age your parents had thought appropriate for you to have your own maid. When she had come into the service of the House Barryn, she had only been a couple years older than you. Alanna had accompanied you from childhood into majority, gone wherever you had, dried your tears and shared your laughter. And now she was there for you, on your last Maiden’s Day as a girl.

Come next year’s celebration of the Maiden, you would be a married woman.

-

The cold night air had immediately found its way into your bones the moment you stepped outside. Your woollen dress did nothing to protect you against the bitter winds from the sea.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you quickly were on your way to the middle bailey, Alanna close behind you. She carried the parchment garlands, and the heavy candle that you would light at the feet of the Maiden. You were not allowed to talk to her – yet another tradtion. No word was to be spoken by the noble maiden the morning of Maiden’s Day, until she was standing before the Maiden herself.

You had gotten to know the Red Keep in broad daylight - now, in the early morning hours, you almost didn’t recognize it.

The unsteady flickering light from the torches on the walls wasn’t able to illuminate the courtyards like bright sunlight did.

Still, the cold forced you to move forward, past a group of goldcloaks patrolling the castle, towards where you thought the sept to be.

It was when you got a whiff from the stench from the pigyard and the stables, that you knew that you were going in the right direction.

And there it was – the royal sept.

A septa was already waiting for you on top of the steps leading up to the intricately carved doors. Her white gown seemed to be glowing in the moonlight.

It took everything in you to not run up those steps – you were sure that you never had experienced a Maiden’s Day as bitingly cold as this.

Once you arrived at the top, you took the candle and garlands from Alanna’s hands with shaking fingers, thanking her worldlessly. She would have to wait outside the sept, as she wasn’t noble. Further, no men were allowed in the sept on Maiden’s Day, as well as mothers - and whores.

With a stern look, the septa opened one of the doors for you, not saying a word. She would stand guard in front of the sept, letting no-one enter.

The first thing you felt when stepping foot into the sept was warmth – finally, finally. Two massive iron fire bowls were positioned at either side of the entrance, and on either side of the altars of the Seven.

An amazed smile formed on your face. You had never seen a sept like this before. Of course, the sept you had at home was beautiful, but this-- it didn’t compare. The high windows were made of colourful glass, laid into intricate mosaics, depicting scenes from The Seven-Pointed Star. Your eyes flitted from one golden inlay glimmering in the walls to another, then to the many silver fabric panels, almost touching the floor.

The farther you stepped into the sept, the smaller you felt - the white marble statues of the Seven surrounding you simply looked too imposing.

They were all looking down at you, as if they had been waiting for your arrival.

Yet, you still felt heartbreakingly lonely in their company. This was your first Maiden’s Day alone.

At home, you had always celebrated with your sisters. The atmosphere had been solemn, yet giddy at the same time, when you had been getting ready together, going to the sept together – singing the songs of innocence for the Maiden – together.

And here you were in front of the Maiden – all alone.

Had you known then that it would be your last holy day celebration with them, you would have tried more urgently to burn it into your mind, would have treated the day with more seriousness.

Gently, you put down the candle you were holding. Back home you would have put the parchment garlands around the Maiden’s neck, but here the statue was too tall, you weren’t able to reach that high. So you put them at Her feet on the pedestal. You had always felt so close to Her, but now She seemed so far away that you were unsure that She would even hear your prayers.

Still, you lit a slender piece of wood with the flames of the fire bowl next to the Maiden’s altar, and then went over to the white candle. Kneeling down, you said a silent prayer for your sisters, before lighting the candle.

Then, standing up, you took a deep breath. How could you sing now? No sound would come from your throat, choked up as you were. Tears gathered in your eyes when you thought of your sisters once more – and your mother. You were sure that she was praying for you right now, asking the Maiden for your well-being, to keep you safe, hoping to have made the right choice when she had betrothed you.

You wanted to go to pieces at the thought.

But you had to sing before sunrise, if you wanted to show any reverence for the Maiden at all. So you swallowed your tears, before quietly beginning to sing the songs of innocence that you had been taught in childhood.

You missed holding your sisters’ hands while singing – you clasped your own, trying your best to soothe yourself. Admittedly, you struggled.

They would think of you now, wouldn’t they? Surely, they were missing you as much as you missed them? They would notice the hole in their circle when they sang the songs of innocence, certainly? You were all looking at the same beautiful face of God now, singing the same chants, you knew that. Only, that they were thousands of miles away.

-

The sun had come up over the sea, setting the Red Keep aglow, basking King’s Landing in the morning light.

The first tender rays shone through the crystals in the high windows of the sept – making many little rainbows appear on the walls.

You only noticed the light of day, when it shone directly on the innocent face of the Maiden that you had been staring at.

You had been begging her to watch over you, throwing yourself at her feet you asked her to keep you safe, to give you the courage to go through with this betrothal. But you also had to thank her for this marriage proposal, as afraid as you were of the unknown that came with it. It was more than suitable – as a little girl it had been your childish heart’s biggest dream to become a Princess, but as you had gotten older, you knew that there was little probability that it would come true. And now that it was, you could only smile melancholically - thinking back to that innocent girl you had been, unaware of what it meant to marry in the first place, much less into the royal family.

One glance to the white candle told you that your time was almost over. It was close to burning down completely. When it would go out, you could leave the sept.

You sang one last song for Her, as a goodbye. When you finished, the light of the candle had drowned in a puddle of wax.

Talking to the Maiden had been cathartic, you thought, as you slowly made your way to the entrance of the sept. It was purifying, in a way. You felt much closer to Her now, having left all your sorrows with Her.

Your attention was quickly with the outside world again, when you heard people talking outside the doors.

„You must leave, now!“, your hear what you assumed to be the septa’s barking voice. Surely, she wasn’t talking to Alanna like that? How dare she! Hastily, you opened one of the doors, eager to see what was going on.

But only the septa was standing there - next to Alanna who looked so content that it made you wary. The smile she tried to hide didn’t fit the fact that she had been standing outside the whole time, in the company of a strict septa.

You thanked the septa warmly for having stood guard at the doors of the sept.

„Of course“, she simply responded, only sparing you a stern look. What had happened before? It wasn’t your fault that she was so ill-humoured, was it? You only thanked her again, before linking arms with Alanna, almost dragging her down the steps of the sept to be out of earshot of the septa.

While going back to your quarters, you started a hushed conversation.

„What happened?“, you whispered, trying to contain your laughter at the septa’s seriousness. „Was the septa this stern the whole time you were with her?“

Alanna only giggled, nodding.

„Oh, you poor thing!“, you exclaimed theatrically, putting your hand over your heart. „It must have been dreadfully boring. Be honest though, how much did she actually talk to you?“

„Not a word!“, Alanna responded, making you both break out into laughter.

-

Once back in your quarters, you shut the door behind you and simply looked at Alanna curiously.

„What really happened back at the sept? You know, I heard the septa speaking to somebody, but when I left the sept, it didn’t seem like she was talking to you.“

The mischievous grin on your maid’s face only made your anticipation grow. What wasn’t she telling you?

„Alanna! Say something!“, you urged her to finally spill the truth.

„Well…“, she said, looking at you suggestively.

„It was the Prince.“

„What!?“, you shrieked, slapping your hand over your mouth, as if to shove the sound back into your mouth. You grabbed Alanna by her shoulders, making her look at you.

„What?“, you repeated, whispering now.

Alanna watched you with a satisfied smile, this was exactly the reaction she had expected.

„What did he want?“

„It seemed that he forgot that it was Maiden’s Day, my lady. He wanted to enter the sept, the septa kept him from doing so, and then he just-“, she started giggling again, „he just stood there. Listening to you sing. The septa had to chase him away!“

A blush slowly crept onto your face. He had heard you sing the songs of innocence? Why did you feel flattered that he wanted to stay to hear you at the sept?

You wanted to slap some sense into yourself!

It was just another thing he knew about you now, he was collecting little elements about your personality, like gemstones, while you still only knew about him what he wanted you to know!

„Ugh, he enfuriates me“, you decided to say, turning around to let Alanna loosen the ties of your dress - ignoring her failed attempt to hide her smile.

Taglist: @fan-goddess @toodlesxcuddles @heavenly1927

Chapter Six

#aggiewrites #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd #aemond #hotd aemond #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader

[nrdmssgs]

Spiraling 2

Masterlist Part 1

Very mild angst, this time with happy ending Pairing: Ghost x you TW: swearing, mentions of military operations, mild mentions of torturing (no detailed descriptions) Summary: You confess him and try to spare him of your feelings right away. But it is not needed.

"The problem is dealt with. I'll be staying here for a little longer. Staying frosty."

The only way, your message could ring more false is if you end it with an emoticon. But Ghost doesn't notice it, he never does. Ghost doesn't even answer on your message. And you know - It's for the best. This way, in a complete silence, it's so much easier to still love him, meeting no rejection.

You've tried so many times to end this for good: stop thinking about him, imagining, how would he react to something, you've just witnessed, stop worrying about him to the point of not being able to sleep or eat properly. Your last attempt was desperate and thoughtless: you came clean before him and dragged yourself as far as it was possible, hoping, that time could help you heal.

At first, you really felt better: new tasks, unfamiliar faces, a foreign country - all this filled the emptiness that you had previously guarded, like the apple of your eye, because only in this void Ghost was only yours. But in a pair of months you caught yourself making a photo of a sunset, as it was so mesmerizing, you thought, he would love it. And you understood: you didn't make any progress. The void was still there. Filling it was harder than filling a glass without a bottom. That's when you sent that fake message, bargaining for some more time.

When you finally came back - it took you all your strength to look calm. And in seemed, that Ghost believed you. You tried to grow a distance between you two. You believed, it would work as a shield from pain. It never did.

You both keep your masks on - only yours is not that obvious. Nobody can see, but your life now fits between short breaths.

Inhale: Ghost is standing outside, leaning against the wall of the barracks, you pass by.

Inhale: you and him are alone in the armory for a few minutes before someone else enters.

Inhale: Sunbeam touches his eyelashes for a second until he looks away.

In between these breaths you fit entire missions, sleepless nights at work, exhausting workouts. Your days are gradually intertwined into one endless thread.

But one day this thread stretches and trembles like a string. You two are alone, surrounded by enemies. Your hideout will be uncovered sooner or later - it's only a matter of time. You can't break through the enemy blockade from the inside: you've used up almost all your ammo. You frantically gut your magazines, trying to get more ammo for Ghost as he covers your trembling hands with his. He obviously got, what were you planing.

"No, we either make it out of here together, or not make it at all." His voice is stern, tone - peremptory.

You raise eyes on him, barely containing your rage. Bloody fool. I'm trying to bargain here for at least your life...

He puts a bunch of plastic clamps into your hand. "Tie me up. Bring `em Ghost and that might buy us time."

"Might?!" You were furious. For the first time in your life, you didn't believe your commander as he asked you to pay the highest price - his safety for a mere possibility of living till the moment the reinforcement reaches your destination. "No! No-no, we are not doing it, no..."

He cuts off your sporadic mumbling, cupping your cheeks and guiding your face towards him. Given, that Ghost barely touched not only you, but anyone - this gesture of his startles you. He wants, needs you to do it. "Look at me, soldier!" His fingers squeeze your face lightly. "Look at me and think of every time I failed you, every bit of pain I brought you. Then take a bloody clamp and tie me up. Now they'll probably beat me, maybe they get more creative, but if you happen to see or hear any of it - I want you to think only about problems I caused you. Is that clear?"

Your lips are quivering: maybe it's his rough voice, that pains you, maybe it's your helplessness in this situation, maybe it's his plan. But you do as he asks. The last thing, you want to do is to risk his life. But you were always such a good colleague, perfect squadmate. Maybe, it's time to play this part one more time, if it makes him happy.

You take a last look at him, before stepping out of your hideaway: a perfect bait, a true beast of man, restrained and humbly quiet under your gaze. You hate to see him so, deep inside you are screaming, begging for his mercy, pleading him to run. He takes a step closer and whispers one word in attempt to cheer you up.

"Showtime."

You feel as if you were thrown into ice water. With each next step, your arms and legs become numb. You do not remember how you led Ghost directly into the enemies' lair, how you yourself knocked him to the ground in front of them. "This dirtbag wouldn't see a lie even if it was written all over his fucking face." You wish, you'd forgotten those words leaving your lips, immediately, but you don't.

But the worst part is what follows: they beat him in front of you, they get creative, you witness everything. But his eyes never leave yours. And both masks: yours and his, stay on. The only thing, that helps you to endure through this torture is a sight of his hands, that were tied so badly, he can escape any minute now.

Showtime. This is so 'not Ghost', so out of character, he must just have heard it somewhere... Every time this word pops up in your mind, a lump rolls up in your throat. But you don't show it.

Beating, mockery, Ghosts barely audible hissing - everything is interrupted in an instant, when a suspicious crunch is heard in the thickets outside the window. "I did not send anyone to reconnaissance," says one of your captors. You look back at him and hold your breath. If your plan is revealed now, you and Ghost are as good as dead. You don't dare to look at the window and let others know, you wait for the attack.

Dead silence is interrupted by a terrible crack, with which Ghost rips loosened clamps and throws aside the chair to which he was tied. You do not have time to turn in his direction when he knocks you down at full speed, and throws you to the ground.

"Give me one reason to not strangle you right here, you scum," he growls into your face.

Dull, drawing pain flows from your skull along the spine to all the limbs. You are exhausted and lost. You look into his dark furious eyes and don't even understand, what is going on. But your mask cracks and slowly falls apart as pain, sorrow and insults leave your lips. You can't even control it, you spill everything: how you hate growing the emptiness inside you for someone, who never needed it, how tired are you of fighting yourself, how useless you feel, when you spend days resisting every your single urge.

By the time your tirade dries up, you've already forgotten how it started. You both are surrounded by deafening noises, and you can hardly shout it over.

“... I can’t deal with this problem. No matter how far I go from you, no matter how I bury myself in work, my problem catches up with me time after time! I can't do it, I can't!"

An explosion hoots muffledly somewhere deep in the building and Ghost instinctively covers your head with his hands. And only at that moment, you begin to realize what happened. He did not even think to kill you - on the contrary, he protected you, played for time and distracted your enemies from the reinforcements that arrived to help you. By knocking you to the floor, he only covered you from random shots.

At first, pure delight floods your mind. This is why Ghost is on another level: he controls the situation to the very end. But then you notice something: his eyes changed. There is no more cold distance in his gaze. Maybe you hit your head well, but you can swear, you see something under his mask - not the skull one, but his familiar demeanor. There is dismay, even panic there. The surrounding noise gradually subsides. Ghost looks around, and then his eyes meet yours again.

"I'm sorry." He says so quietly, you are not sure, you didn't imagine it.

On the way back, you feel his hand somewhere around constantly. Comforting, reassuring, guiding.

It's only in medbay where you lose his touch, as your mind drifts to sleep.

When you wake up - it's still dark outside. You blindly fumble your hand across the bedside table, hoping to stumble upon a glass of water. But you grope for something unusual - an envelope. Inside is a small sheet of thick paper with two phrases. With incredible difficulty, you find the angle at which the dim moonlight breaking through your window illuminates the leaf.

Familiar handwriting.

"It is not a problem. And never was."

#cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #simon riley mw2 #cod simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x you #ghost x reader #cod ghost x reader #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine

[silverflqmes]

i know you got like 37393793749 requests already but HEAR ME OUT BABES.

genesis x reader where he's at banora making plans to revolve against shinra but his (other) childhood best friend still lives there. zack is coming too with tseng and they're planning to 'get rid of the evidence' right??? what would genesis do once he finds his other childhood best friend in banora and would he save them from certain death by the hands of shinra???

໒⦂ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑.

notes. hi anon, you’re so real for this request let me slap you with some angst real QUICK — or um, hurt / comfort.. ahem, luckily i finished this part in cc a couple nights ago otherwise i would be clowning🫥 ALSO THE GREAT WAR FR FIT A LITTLE TOO MUCH HERE

genre. angst + hurt / comfort

tw. detailed descriptions of injuries

genesis rhapsodos x gn!reader.

the smell of smoke polluted your lungs as a cough left your lips, eyes barely half lidded.

how.. had it come to this?

the logs holding your home childhood home together began to scorch, crack and cave in on itself — blocking most, if not all, plausible escape routes.

what had banora — or rather, the people of banora — done to earn such a cruel kismet?

sweat trickled from your forehead down to your chin, the heat sweltering —growing even more unbearable by the minute. had your predecessors known an aerial assault like this would befall their homes one day.. perhaps they would have reconsidered their building materials. alas, it was too late for that.

had you caused something to share part of this punishment, too?

blends of warm colors engulfed your vision as you ascended the decaying steps to what once was your chambers. a place of solace, where you would read to your heart’s content and indulge in your hobbies. the stairs that once led up to your happy place now groaned in protest, waiting to wither away into dust.

would there be enough time to evade fate?

the darkened planks snapped beneath your battered boots, throwing you forward onto your knees at the top of the stairwell with a stuttered yelp.

or was there truly no way out, but death?

ash and grime painted the surface of whatever skin you had left exposed, eyes glossing over with tears as the flames kissed your limbs. it was painful, unlike anything you’d felt before, but you told yourself to endure.

what choice was there but to tolerate it?

you wouldn’t trust in help being on the way, not with banora deserted — oddly deprived of its population. the only one left.. had been the mother of a childhood friend of yours.

was she suffering the same as you were? or had she been lucky to make it out, likely not unscathed, but alive at least..?

or.. would she suffer worse? as the parents of your other childhood friend had a few days ago.

such was karma, sadly. but with the mother, stuck in that house alone for years after the loss of her remarried husband, and the later departure of her son going off to join the elite SOLDIER program.. perhaps death was the solace needed to be set free and return to the planet at last, sailing the lifestream in peace.

you forced yourself back to your feet, wincing at the chars and cuts poking through the holes of your clothing. exhaustion was creeping up on you — coercing you into dropping your efforts and allow yourself to be consumed entirely by the great inferno.

but something — a gut feeling — told you it was not your time yet. whether or not that had been a fear of dying or a selfish desire to defy destiny.. remained unclear.

all you knew, is that you needed to hang on and get out.

“almost there..” you whispered to yourself as a reassurance, despite feeling as though your skin had been peeling off. layer by layer, tissue by tissue, melting down into a pathetic pool of residue.

a final stumble towards your windowsill and you nearly breathed out in relief. the casement thankfully had no fallen logs or debris to block your exit, however, the real obstacle would be the drop that awaited you.

grabbing ahold of a stool that once paired with your now destroyed vanity, you lined the pegs up with your window, heaving a breath. “here goes.”

not wasting another second, you drove the piece of furniture into the glass, watching as it shattered into thousands — millions of pieces.

the flames howled against the breeze, growing with fury as you hissed when they grazed your skin.

there was no luxury left for stalling, you needed to get out and fast.

overcome with sorrow, you threw one final glance at your precious, shriveling, home before stepping onto the charred outline.

escape was at last within your grasp, and yet..

your breath hitched, trapping in your throat when you realized how far the fall had been, and no less.. into a field of fire.

..it continued to be so far out of reach.

stay in your home and die with it, or flee your home and die before it — those had been the options that had presented themselves to you. both equally gruesome.

a series of cracking halted your train of thoughts, panic flooding you as the wooden trim fractured beneath your weight.

stripped of a surface to stand on, your hand flew out to seize the splintered frame, eyes widening as you did so.

was this.. the end?

the log crumpled beneath your tight hold, nails clawing helplessly for dear life as your vision began to blur.

maybe.. it was.

not wanting to witness your demise, you squeezed your eyes shut despite the tears that leaked out. it was probably wise to just give in.. and accept fate for whatever it was.

only, it never came.

a feather-light touch caressed your body as a pair of arms secured you against a firm chest, lifting you into the air.

startled, you opened your eyes despite your fears to find a crimson jacket — mixed with charcoal. it.. it couldn’t be.

“falling out of a window, my dearest?” a chuckle seemed to follow as your body was cradled closer to your savior. “you would be wise not to do so while in my absence.. who would be your hero, then?”

had your eyes deceived you amidst the calamity brought upon your homeland? had the fumes gotten to you so badly that your mind had created an image of your friend, now winged, rushing to your aid..

or was it all real?

“ge.. nesis..” you winced, dragging your gaze over to the dark wing protruding from his right shoulder blade before looking up at the ginger. “is it.. really you?”

the former first class SOLDIER regarded you for a moment, an absentminded smile on his lips as he let out a mirthless laugh. “does my monstrous appearance frighten you that much, y/n?”

monstrous? “where did you get that sort of conclusion..? i’m over here thinking this is all.. just a dream, a-and that’s what you assume i think?” you scoffed, reaching a hand to pinch his cheek despite your wounds before closing your eyes. “you are completely mistaken, do not ask me that ever again. you, genesis, are not a monster.”

he stared down at you for a brief second, descending slowly as his boots at last made contact with the ground. “a man who brought discord upon his homeland is anything but a ‘hero’, therefore ‘monster’ emerges as the more suitable term.” the mako-eyed male answered softly, casting one final glance toward his crumbling home — the banora apples melting away with his memories.

knitting your brows together, you lifted your gaze, frowning. “you.. did this?” your voice came out as a whisper, heart trapped in your throat. genesis couldn’t possibly have done so.. it couldn’t have been his doing.

his eyes lowered back down to yours, the sullied smile still tugging at his lips. “indirectly, i suppose, yes.” he affirmed, looking up at the smoke filled sky. “shinra did not take kindly to mine and angeal’s resignation. this, it seems, was their response.” burning a town off the face of the planet until was unrecognizable.

as if it had never been there to begin with.

you gripped his jacket tighter, dropping your head to his chest. “i’ll never forgive them..”

genesis petted your head gently, gaze sharpening. “you would be right not to.”

notes. oki finally finished this, several sittings were taken but here you go anon, i hope you enjoyed it😭 there was not much genesis but he saved the day, um kind of??? maybe.. but yeah🥹

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