#like i can't imagine how much time this must have taken and everything??? it's so stunning and gorgeous op

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

A Week (He Will Take You)

~

Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.

This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.

Anyway

This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,

They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.

They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.

Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.

Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.

In other words they were stuck in Gotham

Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.

Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,

Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.

You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.

Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.

But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.

"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"

This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.

"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"

That was it.

The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.

But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,

Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.

The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty

Like no one had been living in it.

People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.

Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.

~

Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"

Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "

~

Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"

~

Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."

Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."

Bruce: "Hn."

Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"

~

Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"

Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"

~

Just an Idea

#dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #batman #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #prompt fill #story prompt #prompts #writing prompt #dp #ghost #ghosts

[bouncybongfairy]

Could you do a live action Zuko x reader, they were betrothed to eachother before his banishment. They frequently had visits and got along really well. First time they met he saw her creating a blue butterfly from her fire bending. The reader can produce blue flames but is a gentle, kind person. Zuko is reading the latest letter she has sent him, praying for his safety and health. How does he feel about them after all this time? Maybe this fuel his fire to complete his quest and get home.

See You Soon

Prince Zuko x Fem Reader

Summary: Both Zuko and can't stop thinking about each other, after reading the most recent letters you sent to each other.

Word Count: 2.0k

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It’s been some time since the last time you’d seen Zuko face to face. Ever since his banishment, so about three years. You’d think those wounds would have healed, a betrothal that was nothing more than a concept faded in time. Anyone who’d know you would say you were well past it, those people obviously weren’t paying close enough attention. Sending each other letters, drawings and pressed flowers. Detailing everything unfolding in his quest to find the Avatar. Her day to day life with school and helping your mom with all the tailoring for the Fire Lord’s family. A very important part in your life considering your family had been tailoring in the palace for generations. Every once in a while you’d send him an embroidered Lion to represent power and leadership, hiding his name tiny within the mane. Although you found comfort in the words of reassurance he gave through ink and paper, it only made you long for something more. Reminiscing on all the precious memories that now feel like they were taken for granted.  

The two of you met by chance, your mother worked in the palace. She made all the clothes for the royal family. Often having you assist, holding her pin cushion or any other request she may have. At first not paying each other much attention, one day Azula came in, berating both your mother and self like she did to all other staff. Hearing horror stories from others in the palace made you terrified of her. The last thing you wanted was to get your family banished for looking at her wrong. Zuko noticed this, and nudged your arm; looking over at her and then rolling his eyes. Giving you a reassuring smile, Azula then nudged your shoulder with hers as she walked out. 

“That girl may be a princess by blood line but not respect from her people. She rules with fear when it should be grace,” you mother grumbled as you walked into the house. 

“That may be true but it must be hard, growing up competing for the throne. Having your entire life mapped out for you even before you’re born. That must be so hard on someone so young, I think I'd break,” pulling your hair out of the tight bun. Your mother smiled, setting the bags on the table. Cupping your face in her hands,

“I love that in a nation so pitiless and jaded that you have kept your soft spirit. You know that, but that girl spoiled down to the soul,” your mother laughs before turning back to her bags.

You laugh and walk into your bedroom to change before heading back outside. The weather was perfect to practice your fire bending. One of the perks of having a mother who worked in the palace was better education for you. Now that you had been learning to bend from a master, you were able to do more than you could ever imagine. At school all you learned was combat or defensive bending. At home, you liked practicing making different shapes. At the beginning it was simple stuff like circles or hearts, with time they were getting more intricate. Being able to make things like flowers, birds and even butterflies. You were in the empty field behind your family's home, working on your bending. You’d finally learned to make the butterfly flap its wings and fly around for a couple moments at a time before dissipating. Taking a deep breath and creating the flames, putting all your focus into manipulating its form. Holding your breath nervously as you watch it fly around you. The blue light glowing off the flame lit Zuko's face up, where he was watching from a couple feet away. You gasped out of surprise and backed away. 

“Sorry I didn’t mean to- when Azula nudged you, this fell off your top. I just wanted to return it,” he said, holding out the embroidered patch of a crabapple tree that was pinned to your top. 

“Oh, thank you. Wow I'm really surprised you took the time to return it, as someone with so much responsibility; it’s an honor,” you say, giving him a quick bow out of respect. 

“I’ve only seen masters create such detailed shapes with blue flame, can I help?” he asks, you nod in agreement as he comes closer. He stands behind you, pressing his chest against your back. Nudging your arms up with his hands telling you to create the flame before continuing, 

“Holding your breath limits the amount of time your fire can stay in the air. Like suffocating a candle with its lid. Fire can’t be without oxygen, can you feel my breathing against your back? Match it to yours then try to make the butterfly,” he said. 

You were so nervous but took a deep breath in before matching the rise and fall of his chest. Immediately you could feel the difference, like you had more control over the flames. Being able to make the wing movements sharp and clean. Making the flame circle around the two of you, forcing your bodies closer together. 

“See, isn't that so much better?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I never thought I could have so much control over my bending,” you said, moving to face him. 

“I have to get back but i’ll see you around?” he asked, as he took off in a rush which made you chuckle. 

After that night, it was like fate just couldn’t keep the two of you apart. He was getting fitted more often for leather armor and things like that. Noticing each other in lessons and sneaking glances. This progressed until eventually Zuko became unbothered with who saw the two of you interacting. One day he slipped a note into your bag, wanting to meet later that night. Your heart skipped a beat of course, and for the rest of the day it was all you could think about. The day seemed so much longer now that you had something to look forward to. Practically skipping home from lessons, even though you still had a couple hours before dark. You were happy to be home daydreaming. Your mom was home, cooking komodo chicken. Giving her a kiss on the cheek before heading off to your bedroom. Originally you were going to wear what you always did but part of you felt like the night was too special for your everyday attire. Normally keeping your hair up in a tight bun, you decide to let it down. It took you a while to convince yourself to leave it down but eventually you did.

Everyone was finally asleep, the house dark and quiet. You sneak out the window of your bedroom. Zuko was waiting for you right outside which made you gasp, not seeing it was him at first. He had a big smile on his face, which was refreshing considering he’s been going through alot lately. On a night with such amazing weather, the main city and markets were busy with life. Zuko and you however prefer the peacefulness of looking over the city from the peak of a hill not too far. Zuko was pointing out different constellations in the sky to you. Or showing him new little tricks you were learning with your bending. He always acted really impressed but you knew he was doing it for your benefit. You loved that about him, that he cared so much about your confidence. 

“You know, my father says it’s time to start looking for a girl to betroth,” he says. 

“Oh? Any girls you had in mind?” you ask playfully. 

“No,” he says back in the same playful tone, which makes you elbow him in his ribs. 

“In all seriousness though, how do you feel about that?” he asks, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side.

“I think I'm waiting for you to ask me properly,” you said chuckling. 

Zuko also felt like he took all these moments for granted. He was currently in his room on the ship. Looking around at all the notes and drawings he’d pinned to the walls. They’d just left where he and his crew were docked, following a lead on the Avatar. Reading the most recent letter you’d sent him, it pained him to know you were feeling the same grief he was about feeling apart. He never really talked about it to his uncle or anyone but it was one of the main reasons he was so motivated to complete his quest. He felt like he was missing out on the most important years of his life. Uncle Iroh always talks about how memorable his late youth was, before he had real responsibilities as general. He missed everything about you. Especially how sweet you were, always finding the good in people. Even finding beauty and grace in Azula; his own mother couldn’t find that in her. 

Often when Zuko was anxious he would think about you comforting him. He knew he could be hot headed both emotionally and physically. This never phased you, even when he was in full blown flames. Always finding a way to calm you down. Somehow reassuring him without making him feel small or stupid. You always used to tell him that anger is a form of passion. That you loved the passion and resilience he had, and that one day he’d be able to channel it without anger. He found so much comfort in you so being ripped away was hard but reading your letters helped. Made him feel like everything wasn’t as impossible as it may seem. Like once he returns home he’ll know you’ll be there to support him. 

He laid back on his bed, your letter on his chest. Worried that you’d grow tired feeling his love through paper and ink. That you’d yearn for love that’s more present in your everyday life. This fear was doubled by the fact that he assumed telling you about this fear would make him come across as insecure. Maybe he was but he didn’t want you to know that. He hated being seen as weak, you were too kind to admit but he knows that exactly what you’d think. Currently thinking about one of the last nights you had together. In Zuko’s old room, laying on the bed together. You were playing with his hair and he had his arms wrapped around your waist. Both of you were pretty tired from training and school. Just melting into each other, enjoying the comfort you gave him. There wasn’t any talking but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. You’d kiss him on his forehead every once in a while, finger combing his hair. Taking in your smell and leaning into your touch. He never felt so vulnerable in a comforting way with someone. 

Iroh came into the room, making Zuko jump up. Clutching onto his letter, immediately his uncle sensed something was off. His eyes were dark and puffy, not to mention quite red. The bruise on his face appeared to be swelling and it was obvious that he was beyond his limit. Iroh set down the wooden tray he carried in, handing him a cup. 

“I know you don’t want to hear this but mentally you are being strained. Bending and combat is easy for you because you’ve done it your whole life. Emotionally, some of your muscles are weak but I can see your slowly strengthening them. It’s important that you get lots of rest while you-” he went to look over at Zuko and stopped talking once he realized the boy was asleep. Iroh held back a laugh before taking the cup and letter out of his hands. Zuko gripped the paper and woke up but settled down once he realized it was him. 

“Rest now, and please truly let yourself rest,” he said, pulling the blanket over him and he laid down. Folding the letter gently and leaving it on the nightstand.

#prince zuko fanfic #netflix avatar #avatar fanfiction #avatar live action #avatar last airbender #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko x y/n #prince zuko imagine #prince zuko x you

[talaok]

Can you write a pedro x sick!reader story, but the reader doesn't just have a little cold im talking SICK reader. Like rushing to the emergency room hurt/comfort kinda thing.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

a/n: ok first of all im incredibly sorry for the wait, genuinely im really really sorry. and secondly im not 100% sure i did what you had in mind, which makes me feel like shit even more, so if it's not, you can tell me and ill try to write it again 

"Sir I need you to calm down"

"I will as soon as you answer my questions"

"sir," the paramedic said more sternly now "I've already told you I'm not a doctor so I cannot answer your questions, now please calm down"

And he wanted to fight more and beg that woman to answer his questions because, after all, the only one he cared about was: Is she gonna be ok?

But your eyelids fluttered and the ambulance took a turn and all the sudden he couldn't talk or think or do anything anymore but take your hand in his and start a low chant of the only thing he would allow himself to think, the only thing that still made him able to breathe oxygen into his lungs:

You're gonna be okay, sweetheart, he whispered, his words verging on prayer as he squeezed your hand and watched your beautiful face pale more and more You're gonna be just fine

__ __ __

And as it turns out, his prayers were answered.

"the surgery went well, she's gonna make a full recovery"

He had no words, all he could do was smile like a fucking idiot while he passed a hand through his hair.

She's ok

She's ok

She's ok

That's all his brain was able to muster up, and then for some reason he was hugging the doctor.

"thank you" he grinned "Thank you so much doctor-" he smiled, leaning away "Can I-can I see her?"

The woman cleared her throat, clearly taken aback a bit "Yes," she nodded "she's in the first room on the left, but just so you know the anesthesia is still wearing off so-"

"yes, yes, thank you so much doctor," he couldn't wait for her to finish as he was sprinting to the room already "thank you!" he said one last time, finally opening the door to your room.

He had to stop for a moment and look at you lying on the hospital bed, looking just as perfect as ever.

She's ok

"hey" he spoke softly, approaching your bed, and seeing a smile slowly part your mouth.

"hey"

"How are you feeling?" he asked, moving some hair out of your face and letting his hand linger on your cheek

"not great"

"I'm sorry" he cooed, taking your hand in his and feeling you squeeze it as your eyes watered "What's wrong?" he panicked "Does it hurt- do I call the doctor-?"

"no" you sniffled as a tear fled your eye "I just-"

"what is it, sweetheart?"

"I was just... I was s-so scared"

"oh baby" he murmured, bringing your hand to his mouth to leave a kiss on it "I'm so sorry" he cooed "I can't even begin to imagine how scary that must have been... but hey" he offered you a soft smile as he crouched down to be at your level "you're ok now, there's nothing to worry about anymore" he promised, gently kissing your forehead "you can relax now. I'm here for you, whatever you need you just ask, ok?"

"ok" you nodded, taking a breath "thank you... for everything" you murmured, looking into his kind eyes "for this, for calling the ambulance, for being here for me... just- thank you"

He didn't know what to say, so all he did was kiss you,

"I love you" he smiled "and sugar... don't you ever think about scaring me like that again"

You couldn't help but snort at that

"oh so this is about you then?" you joked

"damn right it is" he laughed in that way he could only do with you "they were about to have to assist two people in that ambulance," he said jokingly (although it was the truth) "and I think I was annoying one of the paramedics so much that I was about to get thrown out"

"oh no what did you do?"

"let's not think about that now," he said, the smile on his lips not able to go away from the first second he saw you

"Baby..." you tilted your head, scolding him silently

"I've brought you a kit-kat" he smiled that smile of his that made you forget what you were talking about every single time 

"You did?" it was as if your eyes sparkled

"Of course" he nodded, handing you the candy bar "I'm not sure you can eat it, we're gonna have to ask the doctor, but I wanted you to have something you liked when you woke up"

Your eyes watered again, but this time, for an entirely different reason

"I love you" you whispered

"I love you more, sweetheart"

#its at times like this that i wonder why people follow me #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #dad!pedro pascal #fluff #pedro pascal blurb #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x fem reader #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fanfic #the last of us #narcos #pedro pascal fandom

[nibbelraz]

SQH + An Ding Idea

-An Ding runs similar to a sort of college campus, everyone writes about An Ding basically doing everything for the whole peak.

(Architecture, Accounting, Business, Operations, Textiles, etc. etc.)

There's no way every disciple can learn all of the things An Ding does, and be able to perform them to a high quality.

So, perhaps SQH is the one who starts it because he realizes how kind of fucked the An Ding mechanics are. (Or system helped out, or possibly SQH god powers because that little guy is real busy and instituting all of these plans would take a whole long time)

But An Ding ends up running like some sort of campus, with a bunch of disciples specializing in different areas. Younger disciples take all of the essential classes, and then pick one or multiple areas of study/specialization. And they get real good at them, because specialization and not covering a million jobs at once means quality goes up. And I think SQH would just take in kids at the masses, just gathering up pretty much any kid with no place to go even if they have no real cultivation potential. Because running An Ding means they need a large number of disciples. He has a recruiting system or something, so there's a little girl in the street who fashioned her rags into a slightly cuter skirt. And an An Ding person is like 'hey, you like fashion? Textiles? You can do that for as long as you want if you join An Ding.' room, board, safety all for people who enjoy these sorts of trades to be able to specialize them and produce all the things the sects need. Street kids who are good with numbers or good with carpentry get taken into An Ding, no cultivation potential needed just kids who have passions but no way to enjoy them in their current situations.

This would also mean so much less outsourcing for the peak, much easier to work in house if it can be set up correctly.

Do the An Ding kids still get pushed around and shit on by other peaks, yeah for sure none of those peaks ever appreciate all the work An Ding does. But these kids are fine anyways because as soon as they get back on An Ding their solid, their doing what they enjoy and what they're good at. Who cares if some buff bai zhan kid teases them for being An Ding, they get to go to woodshop after this and the hall master is teaching embellishments and decor carving!

(one of the req. Classes would be a year long 'how to deal with Bai Zhan' training)

OH MAN OHHHH MAN I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH??? OHHHHH THIS IS GOOD YES YES A THOUSAND PERCENT

Qinghua running the peak that has each category to specialize in is great. They handle literally everything for course they need more man power and of COURSE THEY NEED PEOPLE TO LEARN SOME THINGS THAT ARE VERY SPECIFIC INSTEAD OF A THOUSAND THINGS AT ONCE ohhh OH I love the does that he takes in just anyone

I wonder if he takes in whoever doesn't make it from the other peaks. "Trust me you don't want to be at Bai Zhan peak. You actually get to do what you like here" also I feel like there has to be a group that does the heavy lifting from all the stuff they get so there IS a group that are ready to fight anyone who picks on the other An Ding kids

This means An Ding must have the most disciples of course its HUGE, imagine if he doesn't tell the other peak lords

He's just like "fuck it what are they going to do? Tell me I can't when efficiency has SKYROCKETED AFTER MY SYSTEM!"

Yes YES i would read a fic with this premise so FAST I absolutely love this idea

Wonder what the whole "campus" of kids think when Mobei Jun starts popping in randomly

#svsss #shang qinghua #sorry responses to asks are slow ive had a LOT happen #bUT GODDD I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH IM SHAKING WITH HOW GOOD IT IS #CAMPUS AN DING EVERYONES HAPPY AND HES HELPING ALL THE KIDS THAT DIDNT HAVE A CHANCE GODDD #perfect #anon im obsessed with this #going to be in bed thinking about all the possibilities #nib text #ask

[recreationalfanfics]

Twisted Night At The Museum HCs/Thoughts/Concepts:

These are brain farts but ya'll are making me feel like I have the biggest brain so-

- If the Daley! Reader had a Unique Magic it'd be: "Alive for the Night" where basically any statues on display and stuff can come to life. Including the ones of the Great Seven but they can only do it at night. (Idk if you guys want them to have it or not, ya'll can fight about it in the notes)

- The Daley! Reader was also adopted by Larry after Nicky moved out and became a DJ, Larry is still a super protective father whose very anxious and is looking through various museum archives to figure out if something can be done about his child whose stuck in Twisted Wonderland. He requires you to check the mirror and talk to him at least 4 times a day to know you're alright and if you miss a time, YOU BETTER HAVE A GOOD EXCUSE-

- No but parent teacher conferences and you have to hold the mirror so that your teachers can talk to Larry through it.

Larry Daley + His Relationship with the Staff:

- Crowley: No, he's been in this game long enough to know that Crowley isn't trustworthy and while you KNOW he isn't trust worthy, he is the reason that Larry wants you to check in 4 times a day. Crowley tries to paint it like everything is fine and Larry pretends to believe him. Crowley is just a bit off put by Larry because you're already such an odd and resourceful individual, that he can't imagine what your father (the man who raised you) must be like and while he laughs whenever Larry promises to bring you home, Crowley slowly starts to believe him. Like, bro, he deals with a magic tablet and brought a family of old Egyptian pharaohs together, Larry Daley is getting his child back.

- Crewel is the only man in this school that Larry trusts, along with Trein, but Larry does notice that Crewel seems a lot more concerned with your safety and has a soft spot for you. Crewel will also give Larry due respect and while he's not sure about his bland outfit choices, he's very much aware that your father loves and is worried for you and so, Crewel will make sure you are well behaved and taken care off until you're able to reunite. It's bittersweet for him because he does grow to get attatched to you but soon realizes that he's never gonna be your father back home. (SPLIT CUSTODY IS ALL I'M GONNA SAY).

- Vargas: Larry hates him so much. Like in the movies, he's always snarky and closed off from people he dislikes so their conversations are always so passive aggressive. Like, Vargas is all: "Ha, no wonder you look so wimpy! Look at your dad!" and Larry is all: "First of all, they're adopted (but still my kid) so neither of us can really say anything but second of all, I went face to face with a triceratops, so, yeah. Not sure if they have those in your world, but thats pretty impressive." and Vargas just brushes him off and he HATES IT.

- Next is Trein, who is like a strict grandpa to you and one of the other teachers who get along with Larry. As a father himself, he admires Larry trying to protect you as best as he can while he's in a different world, and he couldn't imagine what it would be like if his own children where stranded in a place he couldn't protect them in. So yeah, while your dad is awkward, Trein tries to help him out and ease both his and your anxieties. I also can totally see Dexter the Cappuchin Monkey and Lucius fighting across the mirror.

- Sam is one that Larry doesn't see to often aside from Larry trying to find old spells in old archives that require magical ingredients that he doesn't know about so he'll ask Sam about them or see if he can find any suitable substitutes and Sam will do it of course, for a fee. He really admires your dad's dedication but he also admires the relationship and bond you two have. Yeah, you might come into his shop to rant about how protective he is and some other flaws but you love him dearly. Sometimes he'll throw in a few freebies because at the end of the day, you two just want to be with each other again.

NOW LET'S TALK ABOUT SOME STUDENTS AND HOW I FEEL LIKE INTERACTIONS WITH THEM WOULD GO.

Now back to some general headcanons:

- Okay so have you guys seen the Stuart Little movies? Where he has a bunch of ladders and stuff around the room because he's small and can't get to places faster, thats kinda what you have to do for Jedediah and Octavius. They sleep on your nightstand after Deuce and Jack either made tiny beds for them or you made them in a wood work class or something.

- I can also totally see that after the first winter break, your first year friends bring back some old childhood toys that maybe Jedediah and Octavius can use to help or to help them travel faster around the campus.

- Deuce brought back an old remote controlled Magic Wheel (the motorcycle thing he likes) and gave it to them so not only can they ride around in style but they also have a tendency to drive recklessly and trip over poor unsuspecting students who are just trying to walk to their class. They'll do it especially if they mess with you.

- Ace brings them back like, tiny weapons from his old toy soldiers and stuff and while they might not do much, he just thinks its so funny how serious Octavius is when he's all: "Thank you, Child of Trappola, for I now have an arsenal to defend Fort Ramshackle!" and Jedediah rolling his eyes.

- You try to keep them on higher ground, especially due to the rats but I love the idea that when you're away on classes and you trust them not to do anything stupid, they're riding around on Grim and throwing toy spears at any rats running around and defending their home. Like to them, it's an intense battle where they could possibly die but to the ghosts, it looks like they're just annoying the rats that they eventually just give up and leave because they're so annoying and rambunctious.

- Out of all of your friends, they like to use Jack as a mode of transportation. After all, he's HUGE and when they sit on his shoulders, they're absolutely amazed by how much they can see. Jack tries his best to remember they're on his shoulders but if a class is really boring and he forgets, he'll lean on one shoulder which causes them to lose balance and almost fall but hed got quick reflexes and apologizes to them.

- THE WAY EPEL AND THEM WOULD GET ALONG. Like, Epel will walk in all roughed up because he got into a fight and walk past you to rant to Jedediah and Octavius and talk about how some kids were picking on him for being cute and little and Jed and Oct are all: "YA BETTER HAVE SHOWN 'EM THAT WHAT FOR!" and Epel is all: "COURSE I DID!" and you just sigh because you know that Vil is gonna ask to keep Epel away from your "little raggedy friends".

- BELIEVE IT OR NOT, SEBEK ACTUALLY RESPECTS YOUR LITTLE CREW. Especially after he finds out you want to be a Night Gaurd and mistakes your words and believes that you come from a family of noble gaurdians who keep the ancient relics of your world safe (which is kinda true but its not that dramatic) and when he sees you defend yourself with a mere flashlight, you become his idol.

- IN NIGHT OF THE MUSEUM TWO, THERE'S THIS SCENE THAT FITS PERFECTLY WITH YOU AND SEBEK FIRST MEETING, HERE'S THE LINK BUT GO TO 1:57 BUT THAT'S HOW I IMAGINE YOUR FIRST MEETING WITH SEBEK GOES.

You, whispering as your faces are squished together: "Listen, fae boy, you do not know who you're dealing with. I've seen things in my world, stuff you can't even imagine."

Sebek, whispering back: "Like what kind of stuff?"

You: "I'm not gonna tell you, but you're gonna drop your sword-"

Sebek: "The way you said it just made it sound like you were gonna say something really cool-"

You: "Yeah, you don't get to hear it, drop the sword-"

- OKAY BUT YOU BEING DEEMED THE NIGHT GAURD OF NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE. Like idk, maybe you don't need as much sleep as everyone or during weekends, you just hibernate and then survive on naps and energy drinks throughout the week (it's such an unhealthy habit, all of the Dorm Leaders are concerned and Vil might trick you into drinking a sleeping potion if your eyebags get too prominent) but I love the idea that the bullying rates go down. Hell, even the Savanahclaw dorm kids don't try to start with as many fights with you around because they know you'll finish them with your flashlight. Like they're all cornering you and you blind one of them temporarily before you do some cool fighting moves. Your quick wit and training as a night gaurd is the only thing you've got to give you an edge in this world and by God are you gonna use it.

-And even if that fails you, you've got friends who've got your back. Like you get cornered by some bullies and then they feel something stab their feet and Jed and Octavius are bravely stabbing their shoes and the students are hopping around in pain.

- But yeah, the Night Gaurd in you just makes you walks around Night Raven College and look at all the various statues and history and you read and do your research on Twisted Wonderland.

- Like in the first movie, the thing Larry did after his first wild night at the museum was do research and by God, do you dedicate yourself to doing research on Twisted Wonderland and the study of magic.

- ALSO MALLEUS JOINING YOU DURING YOUR LATE NIGHT PATROLS OF YOUR SCHOOL GROUNDS and telling you everything there is to know about the magic here. You know how Ahkmenrah calls Larry "Gaurdian of Brooklyn"? I feel like instead of Child of Man, Malleus would call you "Gaurdian of the Night" because you tell him that's your dad's job and you want to fill in his shoes.

- MALLEUS AND SEBEK TRYING TO GET YOU TO JOIN HIS GAURDS BUT YOUR DUTY IS TO EVERYONE BUT HE'S ALL: "You know, just in case you might have to stay for longer, there will always be a spot in my court for you. As either my gaurd or my spouse-"

- "What was that last part?"

- "What?"

Feel Free to Send in any Thoughts/Asks/or Questions about this AU!

#Twisted Night at The Museum AU #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland x reader #night at the museum x reader #night at the museum #Twisted Wonderland #First years x reader #twst first years #twisted wonderland first years #Jack howl x reader #ace trapolla x reader #deuce x reader #deuce spade twisted wonderland #Epel Felmier #Twisted wonderland crowley #twst crossover #twisted wonderland crewel #professor crewel #Sebek Zigvolt #Sebek Zigvolt x reader #Twisted wonderland hcs #twst hcs #twst scenarios #twst drabble #twst vargas

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Platonic Yandere Ghost x Childhood BFF Reader

Warnings: No pronouns used for Reader except for ‘You’, spoilers for Ghost's past, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, yandere Ghost, toxic behaviour, possessive behaviour, kidnapping, arguing, guilt tripping, intrusive thoughts, etc.

Ghost would never let anyone else have you.

To him, you are the one fragment of his life which is truly his own, that doesn't belong to the dark confines of his childhood or the military.

You were, to put it plainly, Simon's safe haven.

Having known each other since childhood, you are the person who is nearest and dearest to Simon, and he to you.

You were there to shelter him from the abuse of his father, taking him into your home and showing him what a real family could be.

You were there when he decided to join the military, a decision you were concerned about yet supported him nonetheless.

You were there to celebrate his return home, throwing your arms around him and telling him how much you missed him.

You also cooked the most delicious meal he could imagine, and he'd polish all of it off without fail.

And for all these reasons, Ghost is absolutely feral when it comes to you.

He knows it's selfish, but he thinks that you're his and his alone.

If you tell him you're going out with some other friends, he'll mope about it.

Perhaps not in front of you. But he may guilt trip you into staying home with him so you can cuddle.

He loves holding you btw, and being held by you.

He feels protected - safe - like nothing can hurt him.

Reminds him of how you and your family would protect him from his own home life, the two of you sharing your single bed and you playing with his hair, promising you'll never let anyone hurt him.

I should be telling you that, is what he thought to himself then, wrapped in your embrace.

And it's what he tells himself now as he argues with you, telling you that you can't trust those people you call friends - they're only out to hurt you!

"Not everything is a mission, Simon!" you'd snap. "Not everyone is out to get you or me; they're just people! We are just people!"

"I'm only trying to protect you."

You can only sigh, both of you aware of how well that line works on you because you know it's true.

"I know, Si. But I just want to live my life. The same way I want you to live yours."

You rarely argue aside from that. Which is what makes your confrontations so explosive at times.

One evening, after you came back late with the shopping, Ghost snapped.

It was a screaming match the second you walked through the door, Ghost demanding you tell him what took you so long, telling you why you were a liability to yourself, why you needed him with you at all times.

The details grew hazy around then. And with good reason.

While begging Ghost to just let you live without casting suspicion on every relationship you had and every decision you made, Ghost threw himself at you, muffling you with a cloth.

It smelled strange. Medical.

You tried fighting back, knowing what it was, but the substance had already taken hold and made you sink into Simon's chest.

You knew where you'd be when you woke up, just not where.

You knew you'd be locked up somewhere, a dark warehouse or a cabin in a forest, but you didn't know exactly the location of these chambers.

Lo and behold, vision coming back to you, you found your answer.

Indeed, Ghost had confined you to a cabin in the woods.

A tinted window decorated the wall, bars bolted across it.

You knew Simon, and you knew nobody would be able to see in while you could see out, a peep show of freedom you'd never have again.

You suspected the doors were metal, too. Too heavy for you to open and sealed with a code or a key that only Ghost had.

Speaking of, he resided in a chair by your bedside, mask on, watching you.

The room was dark, the night not yet having ended.

He must have had this planned, you thought. Unless he's waited a whole day to wait for me to wake up.

Your heart pounded, your nerves burned.

You didn't know who should talk first. You and Simon had a system that one or the other should start a conversation based on who started one last time. A game then, an uncertain future now.

"I told you I only wanted to protect you."

Ghost's voice sent shivers up your spine. As did his mask, the white details of which barely poked through the darkness.

This wasn't your Simon, you concluded. This was a damaged man possessed by his actions - by the persona he'd fashioned for himself to protect him.

He watched you now; a protector guarding a protector.

It felt confrontational, in a way. You, the one who'd done nothing but love and care for Simon all his life, and Ghost, the phantom that took hold of him when the situation called for it.

You were his next mission.

"And I told you--" you flinched at how dry your throat was, "--that I don't need protecting."

Wordlessly, Ghost took a glass of water form the bedside table and offered it to you.

When you didn't take it, not even sparing it a glance, his eyes burned.

He growled, stood, and threw it against the wall, the glass smashing, the sound making you flinch. The intrusive thought of you walking on it flashed in your mind, making you flinch again.

No, this was not your Simon at all.

Ghost, breathing heavily, looked down at you.

Your arm was cuffed to the bed on a very short leash, giving you no way to even go to the bathroom, never mind the bedroom door.

Ghost, seemingly calmer now, eyes softening, reached a hand out towards you.

You winced at the prospect of this stranger touching you, this alternate person Simon told you about when he came back from his travels, the one who killed, bled and suffered for an unknown cause.

And now, his cause was you.

"I love you, (Y/N)." His voice was deep, almost as if his throat was as dry as yours. "I want you to know that this--" he gestured to the room, "--is only temporary."

You swallowed, pain splintering in your throat, multiplying like an infection.

With his once-outstretched hand, Ghost held your shoulder, then placed a knee on the bed.

You wanted to jump back, but Ghost's growing grip on you stole that option from you.

He lay on his side, facing you, encouraging you with a sentimental gaze to do the same.

With few options, you complied, though opted to face away from him.

He didn't seem to care, pulling you into him, encasing you with his frame.

Your position was the inverse of what it had been when you were children, when you'd tried cover Simon with as much of yourself as possible, blanketing him; as if to take the bullets that were meant for him, to absolve him of any more pain.

"It' my turn to take care of you now." Ghost said, his voice quiet yet booming in your ear. He squeezed you, punctuating his point.

"Nothing can hurt you anymore."

You're hurting me, you wanted to say, tears welling in your eyes and throat.

You willed yourself to succumb to sleep, to dream of a life wherein Ghost did not exist, and where this was only you and Simon, holding each other as you did when you were younger, dreaming of a better future.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist

Masterpost

#yandere simon ghost riley #yandere simon ghost riley x reader #yandere simon riley #yandere simon riley x reader #yandere ghost #Yandere ghost x reader #Yandere ghost mw2 #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 ghost #mw2 fanfic #cod mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader #yandere mw2 #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #Yandere simon ghost riley x you #Yandere simon riley x you #ghost x you #yandere ghost x you

[brain-rot-central]

ok so has anyone made a list of things that Astarion said that had a different meaning than first thought?

For example, if you tell Astarion when you first meet that you’re Baldurian as well, he says they must not be in the same social circle. With the way he talks and dresses it seems like he’s implying you’re lower class, but later it becomes clear you’re not those petty criminals or brothel goers that he targets. (And there’s the separate “of course it’ll turn me into a monster” line that becomes obvious later.)

He reveals he fears breaking his nail to the dryad, and it seems shallow but we learn he’s traumatized by digging himself out of his coffin, and the year he endured being trapped inside a coffin and desperately scratching and breaking his nails off as punishment, which is also why he refuses to dig anyone out like Nere.

Also, he mentioned he targeted brothel visitors, and at first it sounds like he just waited outside those establishments for victims, but then if you visit the drow twins he mentions he never thought he’d be on the paying end, plus if you choose one of the twins then Astarion says you have a type for elven prostitutes. And if you really think about it, considering how Petras’ lines are similar to Astarion’s, it wouldn’t be weird to imagine Cazador forcing them to work at a brothel for a few years as training…

Some of Astarion’s lines have a lot to unpack

Many things Astarion says are doublespeak. It's a common coping mechanism used by trauma survivors to "make peace," in a way with what they went through. It's not until you've played through his whole story that you understand that, and honestly it breaks my heart. He has a lot of self-depreciating language. Little quips here and there where you realize he's not only commenting on the current situation but himself, as well.

The monster line in the beginning gets me the most, because he follows it up with, "What did I expect?" For the first time in 200 years, he's able to stand in the sun without burning. He's grappling with that entire realization while also readjusting to there being light and color in the world, and probably was looking at the whole Nautiloid experience as something slightly positive... only to learn that no, this is not something positive. In fact, it's horrendous, because if it's not rectified, he'll become a grotesque monster, worse than he already is. And idk, that guts me. He has this small glimmer of hope for the first time in two centuries, all to realize that it's a giant farce.

But, Astarion is also stubborn, so he holds onto this small glimmer of hope to see if there's a way he can work the tadpole to his advantage. So that he can continue to walk in the sun. Once he realizes that Cazador's compulsion has been interrupted due to the tadpole, he doubles down on wanting to keep the tadpole and control it.

Astarion's story is such a beautiful portrayal of what being in survival mode feels and is like. You're so entirely desperate to make it out of your current situation that you would quite literally give anything and everything to obtain it, even if it means burning the entire world down around you.

The elven prostitute line made me laugh when I first heard it; I knew he was referring to himself and trying to make some light humor about his past, but it's also heartbreaking to realize he sees himself as one. He hasn't yet taken the grace with himself to distinguish between being forced into that line of work vs who he actually is. The lines are still blurred.

I can't think about the intricacies of his background/personality too long, because it all feels way too familiar to me. To know even a smidge of the despair he probably felt for years and the constant mental and physical struggle he endured (there's even disordered eating/food insecurity in his back story too and no one really talks much about it; Cazador purposely kept all the spawn near-starving as a form of control).

Our boy was severely abused and neglected and I really just want to give him a fucking hug.

#astarion #trauma tw #i mean i totally get why he burns down the palace post game #i probably would too #like how could you not want to do that #neech's speeches #answered

[bandgie]

Hey, I have an idea. How about skz members reaction to you being the Dom for the first time

perfect idea I must say!

MDNI 18+, edging, overstim, chastity use, rimming, strap ons, bondage, fem!reader, bottom!skz, dom!reader, exhibitionism mentions, fleshlight use, mutual masterbation

Chan - loves it idk what anyone says. he's such a hard worker, he needs some time where he just lays there and takes everything you give him - you do have to tie him up a bit though, he keeps gripping your hips when you ride and fucking you to his liking - I imagine his hands tied behind his head and his biceps flex everything you sink onto his cock. you might even put your underwear in his mouth to muffle his moans (he looks so good) - takes longer to cum when you dom, but it feels so much better. it's like he's constantly at that high just before he orgasms. hurts so good

Lee Know - taken back honestly, might even decline your request the first time. he can't though, it intrigues him. - he'll have you start off slow, he doesn't think he can bottom right from the get go. I imagine he has you suck him off for as long as you want. - overstimulating Minho is literally seeing that gates of heaven. doesn't matter how red or swollen his pretty cock gets, he's much too prideful to tell you to stop - he's surprised by how much he likes it, he'll absolutely let you eat his ass like this. bro has no shame when it comes to cumming

Changbin - slut oh my god, do whatever you want with him he's been waiting for you to dom. put a cute little chastity over his cock so he can't get hard - he'll leak and leak, but you'll just make him eat you out for hours. he'll complain about wanting to cum, but he only does it to see you get mean. telling him he's a dumb slut who can't wait - hop on his thighs like you're gonna ride him, but put a dildo between the two of you. ride that instead, gripping his shoulders and making him suck your tits. his little cock is still in that god forbidden chastity, but he moaning like you're really fucking him - loves it, overall. you just need give him a bunch of aftercare

Hyunjin - he's a service dom and he's a service sub, so he loves fucking you either way - similar to Changbin in that he'll do whatever you want, but different in that he doesn't it because he only cares about you pleasure. - you like to test this out, sometimes you won't ever make him cum when you dom, but Hyunjin doesn't complain one bit. he is really hard though, his dick is leaking so much that you take pity and let him cum even when you tell him you won't - I don't hyunjin is really surprised or super turned on, he just loves you period. in any way shape or form. - he does it like when slap his balls though oops

Han - loves it when you dom for the first time, and you do it everytime after that, works out the best - do not let this man cum! he loves when you edge him and it doesn't matter how much he's begging do not let him cum! - really likes rimming and when you use a strap. it can't be too but though, 4 inches max. he's totally the type to complain that it's still too big and that it hurts, but he loves it when you tell him to take it - tbh he might just come from anal play, whore! you can't let that slide, you didn't give him permission. now you're gonna make him cum until he can't feel his dick anymore

Felix - first thing he thinks is 'why didn't we do this sooner?' and he's so right. lix is a good sub and he listens obediently. you could even play with him in public and he'll do what you say. - for the first time, you need to go slow with him. everything is new and both of you need time to adjust. safe words are a must, safe gestures as well - unlike Han, Felix can take bigger straps. his ass is literally a pussy with how easily it takes your silicone cock. he was built for dick honestly, moans prettily too - likes when you edge and overstim him, he can't choose a favorite. just please squeeze his balls he sounds so cute when you do - I firmly believe you can use a double ended dildo with him after some time

Seungmin - loves it when you dom, I don't know why I dont see that a lot. he's a huge tease, and when you finally threaten to dom him, he loves the challenge - you both degrade each other. Seungmin may physically surrender to you, but he never will verbally. he needs to get the last word even when your fingers are wrapped around his throat. - you like to push him, and he loves it when you do. wear a nice sized strap and fuck him like that. get a fleshlight and stroke his cock with it. he goes insane, he can't even speak - 'no smart ass reply this time huh?'

I.N - girl...he doesn't even know he likes it - like minho, he's dismissive. he actually forgets you even asked him until you're riding him one night. maybe it would be nice, to see what you can do - the next time you guys fuck, he'll ask what you have in mind. he's a little scared you might say something outlandish, but you actually mention mutual masterbation! - oh that's easy to him! how is that even a dom thing? - then he realizes the challenge when he watches your pussy cream on the dildo you're fucking yourself on. he's so jealous, mad even. all he gets to use is his hand while you have a surplus amount of toys to cum on - he begs and constantly asks to fuck you, but you tell him no over and over again. it doesn't matter how many times he's cum in his fist, it's nothing compared to your hot pussy - then you make him eat you out after. making sure to clean your pussy up real good. that's when he cums the hardest, untouched.

#smut #felixismybf! #skz #skz changbin #skz lee know #skz hyunjin #stray kids #skz bang chan #skz seungmin #skz smut #stray kids smut #bangchan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han jisung #lee Felix #seungmin #I.n. #bangchan skz #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #skz x reader

[bbabymesssss]

Frustrating

"You go too fast for me, Jophiel. There's only one place I truly want to see again, and you can't take me there."

Jophiel dropped onto the steering wheel, letting out a frustrated sigh. The conversation had ended worse than he had imagined.

Trembling, he looked at the lighter the owl had given him. Despite everything, he had given it to him.

He thought about how curious happiness was and how it could vanish from someone's body in a matter of seconds. How everything around him felt warm with Azazel's presence, with that talk where he had confessed in the most adorable way possible his desire to be called angel by him. And how the cold had taken over the car at the same moment the owl had said those words before leaving, leaving him completely alone.

Frustrating, was the best way he could define all that. It was frustrating that so many of his conversations ended that way, that they left him with a strange feeling in his body. It was frustrating to feel that there was never enough for the demon, that he never found the exact right words, that something was always missing.

"Shit."

Maybe it's that he couldn't compare to the faith that Azazel still maintained. Of course not, how could he compare himself to God? How stupid.

But he couldn't help but feel mad. It was pretty obvious that Azazel wanted to return to heaven, even if he didn't say so verbatim. That same heaven that once rejected him, that had caused him so much suffering and that, even nowadays, that same suffering only complicated his life. Hurt him.

He had always questioned certain ideals of heaven, even if it was risky to do so from his position. He was aware that he was not the best example of an angel. It was increasingly difficult for him to understand what had pushed Heaven to expel Azazel.

What sense did it make to abandon someone so devout, with a purity that bordered on the impossible. With an innate goodness that was dangerous to the owl himself and a faith that was eating away and devouring him day by day?

How did they even dare to turn off a light like his?

If anyone deserved a place in heaven, it was certainly him. His angel. His light. And even then, he had fallen and had to live with it for the rest of his existence. With that sorrow. With that sadness in his eyes, his incessant nervousness, his words. The burns on his hands. Oh, the burns.

They must have hurt, right?

He promised to himself that if God didn't protect him, he would. How was he going to protect him from himself?

How frustrating. Azazel was frustrating. The love he felt for him was incredibly frustrating.

Not that it mattered, of course. He was going to love him either way.

Jophiel asked himself if love always was like that. Exasperating, infuriating, confusing, maddening, all at once. And at the same time, so tender, so sweet and warm.

Even now, when he was feeling so miserable and defeated, his mind couldn't stop spinning around the fact of how devilishly adorable Azazel was. In the enormous desire he had to see his face again, to hear his voice, to make him smile and laugh and, perhaps, some occasional blush. His heart felt at peace just by that thought. But it also raced so fast that for a minute he thought it was going to explode.

He wondered how it was possible for love to be that complicated. How was it even possible that it caused so many different emotions in him.

He felt like he was going to lose his mind at any time.

"What a tightrope we walk on, angel."

But oh, how much he loved him.

How much he adored him. How much he worshiped him.

another little thing based on the best good omens au ever, oopsie!omens by @asleepyy bc they are all i think about lately. hope you enjoy it!🩷

(english is not my first language so i apologize in advance if there's any mistakes)

#good omens #oopsie!omens #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #good omens season two #good omens season one

[lucrativesoul]

Divine Beings

summary: your new job at the town's old mansion-museum is a dream, but it's even more so to be working within its centuries old library. this building is fueled by the ancient lore of the undead walking the halls. it's all just tales, right? your archive master and new boss, Leon, knows all about those divine beings.

pairing: leon kennedy x female reader

word count: 13.0k

warnings: smut, borderline public sex (no voyeurism), blood ingestion

a/n: i can't begin to tell you guys how excited i am to be posting this. consider this my halloween gift, but we all know the darker genres are not just for the season! I had so much fun writing this. diving head first into this has really helped me through this rough time in my life situationships are hell and if no one got me at least leon got me :') (and u guys ofc) thank you so much for stopping by and reading, i really really hope you enjoy, and I promise to be back soon with another one. <3

“It won’t be too much of a challenge.” The soft voice coming from the woman in front of you bounced off the walls and high ceilings, making her even harder to decipher than she was in the first place. “All questions about the archive can be redirected to the master archivist, and I’m sure sooner or later you will be retaining all of that important information.”

You said nothing as you followed her down the hall, the click of your heels ever prominent amongst the deserted expanse. For a mansion built hundreds of years ago, they did well to keep it tidy and up to standard. You were impressed.

At the end of the long hall, yellow from the lamps glittering in intervals in the hall, you could see a grand set of large mahogany doors, intricately carved with inlays that you can only imagine must have taken just as long to complete as the residence itself. The initial nerves of the morning were gone, and now you were just more excited than anything to be able to enter one of the oldest libraries in a hundred mile radius, and now you work here. 

The smaller lady who was guiding you, whose name you have already forgotten, leaned all her weight on the doors and pushed both of them inward, the two slabs of wood swinging open revealing possibly your most anticipated sight of your life.

The entryway was one tiny landing, with large staircases birthing off the sides to your left and right, making a gentle curve to the main floor. The walls, well, simply put, there were no walls, rather everything that would have been a wall was lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves, each one packed with differing widths, heights, colors of books, paperback, leather, hardcover, fabric. In the middle of the room were more free standing shelves, still packed to the brim, and the occasional long wooden table with seats scattered about the room. Directly opposite the entryway was a large window, facing the front of the mansion, and it served as the main attractor to the building. Rectangular at the bottom, it shaped off at the top, nearly fifty feet high, in a gothic style pointed arch, nestled gently in between two, much skinnier, similarly shaped windows, which were fixed off at the top with stained glass, giving the brown room rays of color on the sunny days.

You stepped forward, and having seemingly expected this reaction, your guide didn’t say a word for a moment while you took in your grand view. You almost couldn’t speak. It was more than you were expecting. It was everything.

Though it was a sunny day, you already found yourself anticipating the oncoming bad weather, knowing the treacherous drive through the rain would be so worth it to be here on a rainy day.

“Let’s go down to the archive office.” The woman’s tone was gentle, knowing you most likely would not have moved from your spot if she didn’t push you along. You followed her down the left staircase.

There were a few stragglers in the grand room. The manion’s open hours were not near close yet, but you were surprised there weren’t more people here at this hour. You doubted that it had anything to do with the age old rumors about the estate, there was no way people truly kept away because of those tall tales. 

After coming off the staircase, you craned your neck up high, reveling in the surrounding papers and scrolls adorning the walls. You tried your best to keep up with the woman while also having your attention diverted, but had to fully look down when she ducked into a corridor below the main landing. 

This hallway was plain and simple, and you felt your resolve slowly crumble away as you remembered why you were here–a job. 

“The furthest of my knowledge is to bring you into the archive office and wait for the master archivist to meet you here. If you want to take a seat, he should be here shortly. Welcome to the museum crew.” She smiled at you, and after a thank you, you pulled out the seat in front of the desk and sat down. Alone in the room now, you turned your head to look at the surroundings, trying to gauge what type of environment this would be.

Despite your history in the field, you were still surprised when you got a call back wanting to have an interview, and when that went well and you were hired a week later, shock still warmed your body, paired with the growing excitement when you realized you would be working in the epicenter of your old town’s rich history museum and archive, and the home of all the town’s tall tales.

With all your years of studying classic literature spinning the yarn of mythical creatures, it was a no brainer when you saw this opportunity present itself. 

You jumped in your chair when your name was spoken in a low rasp. You turned around briskly.

“I’m sorry, you startled me.” You stood in an instant, extending your hand, ready to introduce yourself, but it appeared the stranger already knew who you were.

“It’s alright, many say I have that effect.” You sat down at his gesture to do so, and he walked around the opposite side of the bland, deep wooden desk. This man, instantly captivating, wore a simple white button down with a crisp black vest over top. He had a wiry pair of glasses tucked into the collar, where the top button lay opened. His hair was a dirty blonde, browning at the roots. The sharp contours of his face showed years of experience, and you caught no air of uncertainty from the way he presented himself. Intrigued would be an understatement.

“Did our lobby host introduce you well? I know one walk down the foyer isn’t nearly a fraction of the time needed to look around, but, maybe it gave a taste to what’s to come.”

You nodded gently, your eyes still trained on his face. “Oh, yes, she most definitely let me take it in for a moment. I can’t wait to know everything better.”

He nodded, shifting through a folder and some papers. You were almost embarrassed at how you couldn’t take your eyes away from him, not even for a second, hoping the staring would come second to whatever information he was about to share with you. 

“What drew you here? It’s quite tucked away.” He was still not looking at you, so you made no move to avert your own gaze.

“Well,” You began, taking a second to form a proper sentence. “I’ve always wanted to work in a grand archive like this one. It is just so full of new opportunities, new experiences. I’ve always loved this place.”

He nodded. “I felt the same as well. I wish I could tell you how swelled I was when I walked in here the first time, but it was so long ago, I barely remember it. Anyway,” He studied the paper intensely, then looked back up at you. You felt heated suddenly. “You had a pretty extensive background in literary culture, criticism, and classic studies. You were with a publishing branch for a few years?”

You nodded. “It didn’t pan out to my hopes, and I jumped at this chance when I saw they were on the hunt for a new archivist.”

He hummed. “I was. I was looking for someone new. Our last had left us suddenly, we had a vacancy.” You nodded again, the innate curiosity taking over about the ex-archivist. “So, you understand the majority of your job title, yes?” Nodded again, but said nothing so he could continue. “Basically, working side by side with me, the better half of our tasks will unfortunately be rearranging once the public comes through, they tend to leave things everywhere, I’m sure you know, and the other half is once our doors are closed, we do many of the repairs on the classics, restocking our souvenir books, and the tedious paperwork that comes along with the museum establishment.”

For a final time, you nodded. “I’m greatly looking forward to it.” 

Now, he looked into your eyes, and he tilted his head gently forward. “I’m greatly looking forward to you joining us. As of right now, it’s just me and one other, so now it’s three.”

You smiled, then it faltered a moment once you remembered something. “I’m sorry, I don’t know if you said your name.”

His lopsided grin painted a picture in your mind that you knew you would be seeing even when you closed your eyes. “Leon Kennedy. Master archivist.”

–

You hadn’t imagined you would live to see a day when you were looking forward to stepping into your place of work, but this had proven you wrong. You were motivated by the mere thought of being surrounded by all the books and pages, all the knowledge you could possibly dream about, learning something new every day.

But, you knew secretly since starting, you would be lying to yourself if you denied the effect that Leon had on your willingness to come in everyday. He greeted you with gentleness, and you couldn't help but always match his energy when you walked into the office in the morning hours. Always spotting the grin on his face at the sight of you as well. It grew to a blazing heat in your chest to see this reaction.

There was a routine you followed with great ease after only a week. It truly was the most of what Leon had said it would be, and to your own surprise, when curious visitors asked about the archive’s collections, you picked up on the correct answers faster than you had expected.

One of your favorite end of day tasks, oddly enough, was replacing the books that visitors had taken off the shelves to browse. It exposed you to so much literature and titles that you had or hadn’t heard of, and gave you a better idea of the archive itself, and its shelf locations. There was nothing more relaxing in your life than admiring the centuries of artform adoring these bookcases.

Here, you found yourself sliding leather bounds back into their places, reveling at every cover for as long as you could get away with, feeling the slick material slide under your fingers as you pushed them into their homes on the shelves. Taking two steps forward, looking down at the engraving in the cover, embossed in golden letters, you startle when you knock into something hard, grip hardening on the book so as not to drop or damage it.

“I’m so sorry, Leon. I didn’t even hear you coming. Very quiet.” He looked down at you, his deep black shirt sucking the color out of everything around him. An amused expression danced on his features.

“So people have told me. I was trying to find you earlier for a question, but you’ve eluded me for the last thirty minutes.”

You smiled gently, but had to avert your eyes down to the books you were still caressing, lest your eyes should wander over the fabric stretched thin over his upper arms. You did not need this mental image lasting with you for who knows how long.

“Sorry for that, but, here I am. What’s up?” 

Leon, so you have come to the conclusion, is much different than any overseer of a job you have had in the past. HIs gentle authoritative style pushed you in the correct direction he wanted you to take as an archive employee, but he never became harsh or strict with any of his guidelines. In fact, the way he approached conversation felt much more like a casual coworker rather than a boss. 

“I had an opportunity you may be interested in. Finish your tasks here, and come up to my office. We can discuss it, I think you’ll be intrigued.”

You nodded, but grabbed his attention quickly at the notice of a small piece of information. “Wait, Leon,” He turned around at the sound of his name. “Your office? I don’t know where that is, I don't think I have been there yet.”

He nodded slowly. “Of course, I forgot. I’ll wait over by the information desk for you to finish. Don’t rush.” 

You nodded, though he had already turned around. You took an extra second to trace his path with your gaze, wondering what this tight, breathless feeling in your chest was every time he was in your presence. 

With empty hands, you stalked over to the center of the room, finding Leon’s back to you, hands shuffling through a stack of folders. He disregarded them when he heard you approach.

“Follow me.” Then, with a small impressed gesture on his face, “Faster than I expected.”

You said nothing as you followed him through the library, watching his back intently as if something were going to happen any second. Surely he could feel the way you were staring, how could he not? If this were you, you would have felt someone looking all over you.

He presented you to a discreet door tucked into the back wall of the archive, a mere few feet away from the large windows, now letting the dying sunset light in to paint the room orange. He stepped aside to let you in first, but what you were expecting to see was nowhere in sight. Instead of an office, a room, even a closet with a desk, chair, and maybe even a computer, it was a staircase. A spiral staircase at that, and it looked like it went up at least thirty feet.

“Your office is up there?” You couldn't help but ponder out loud while staring listlessly, yet amazed, above. You heard him snicker behind you.

“It is. How could I not have taken that one when presented to me? Go on. They won’t get any shorter.”

You shook your head to snap yourself out of the sudden daze, and carefully took the steps. This location was painfully plain compared to the rest of the archive, and part of you understood why, but also wished you had something to look at on the way up.

The tall, dark, wooden door presented in front of you looked like an import from the homes of the finest wood slabs of ebony, intricate carvings on each of the inlays. Not even the doors of the archive looked like this, it seemed such a waste to be hidden up these stairs, guarding Leon's private office. Maybe he personally requested this door to be here. What an interesting design choice, if so.

You pushed it open, not waiting for further instruction as there would have been nothing else to do. This office held far more personality than the one you were used to seeing on the ground floor, and you were positive you could spend just as many hours dissecting the shelves in this little room as you could on the main exhibit.

It was clear this room was built out of what might have been a buttress back in the gothic ages, the ceiling was high, circular and pointed, raw wooden beams were exposed to support the cone roof above you. The shelves were rounded, contrasted with the straight edge ones below. Books that looked as old as the dawn of time were cluttered on these shelves, a thought that almost made you panic, the treatment of them would make their casings fall off their backs faster than usual.

Leon didn’t miss any of your observations. “These are from a collection that I couldn’t possibly put down on the main floor, obviously they have seen better days. They don’t need more of the public’s touch to wither them even further.”

You swallowed, and forced yourself to face him. He was taking a seat in a grand maroon velvet desk chair. Even that looked ornate. “Aren’t you worried handling them like this is even worse?”

He gestured at the seat in front of the desk, then shook his head. He spoke only when you sat down. “They have been with me for years, I know how they behave by now.”

You had nothing to say in return, so you simply affixed your gaze onto his, waiting to hear the reason he brought you up here.

“You’ve found a passion in this place, I can tell.” His voice was low, and it made you shiver. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen someone treat this place like a living entity.”

“It feels alive…” You started, but had no way to finish. He was drawing the words right from your mind. 

“I do believe so as well. What brought you here? Besides what you studied making this a readily available opportunity.”

You looked down for a moment. Truthfully, it was a little childish why you were here. You knew that much and you could at least admit that to yourself. But, could you admit that to Leon? It had turned out that you loved this place as much as you would love a home you had been in for years, this place never became a burden to walk into, and you doubted that it would ever become that. You didn’t know what kind of answer he was expecting to hear from you, but Leon could be trusted. You knew that well enough by this point. He expressed his gratitude to your presence to the archive many times and surely, don’t you owe him the truth for that?

“To be honest with you…” You started tentatively. His face showed no shift in expression. “I have loved this place since I was a child. Something about it, maybe the aura, drew me to it. That’s why I think I feel it… why it feels so alive to me.” He nodded, not interrupting your thoughts. “This town’s folklore is something I loved for all my life.”

This time, he closed his eyes and nodded slowly, as if finally understanding why you had come here. And, he did, as that once sentence, you knew, would explain to any local why you chose this mansion. This archive.

“Maybe that’s silly of me,” You shook your head at yourself slightly. “But I think I owe it to the child who directed my path in life.”

He smiled at you, no sense of mockery on his face. “Let me ask you this, though,” You sat still, waiting. “Do you believe?”

You did not need to think this time. “Yes. I do.”

Leon leaned back in his chair and let his forearms lay on the armrests by his sides. “I think you are wise for that. Many choose to stop believing in folklore once they hit such an age where they know stories from historical recounts, but, don’t you think the two meld together at some point?”

You nodded. “I have always believed in that. And as soon as I stepped in here… the minute I came here to get this job, and even as a child, when I saw this place, I knew the stories were true. There’s no way that this place doesn’t have its hidden secrets.”

“Hidden in plain sight. Everyone talks of the vampire roaming the halls.” Leon added.

You quirked a smile– you couldn't help it. “What’s not to believe about that? I can feel it when I'm here.”

Leon nodded, his smile not fading. After this conversation, you knew you made the right choice in choosing to trust Leon. How could you not?

“People are drawn here on the idea that they will spot him somewhere, but look far too closely. They think every staff member could be him in disguise. They look down every dark hallway wishing to see him slinking around the corner, trying to hide. They look in every window from the outside, thinking he is hiding from the sun. But, there comes the melding, and the separating of truth and fiction. Why should he be doing those things, because they believe it to be true, or because they were told to believe it?”

You had nothing to say to this at first. You knew Leon would be holding a plethora of information on the mansion-museum’s lore as being home to the city's resident vampire from centuries ago. You couldn’t consume enough information on the idea, and yet, Leon still stunned you with what he had to say about it, simply because he had been here to see the behavior of those who believe in him. You wished he would keep talking about it, but knew that the premonition of a mythical being lurking the hallways was probably not the reason he brought you up here to talk about in the first place.

“Your candor is appreciated here.” He held his smile, and his eyes were sincere along with his spoken words. The windows didn’t allow an incredible amount of light into the room, the lamp sitting by his side on the desk casting a yellow haze over the space, the red lampshade drenching everything above in a blood tint. Even through this distortion, you could see how blue his irises were. Icy. A tingle ran across the skin of your arms.

“Now, for what you are actually up here for.” He broke the gaze, and you involuntarily released a sigh of relief. Looking down at his desk, in nothing in particular, you noticed there was nothing of importance on its surface, he continued. “Every so often, for no reason other than to bring variety in, we have a few shelves in the center of the floor that we rearrange to bring in new displays, or to shift the attention to something else.” You nodded, and you were sure you knew he was going to ask for your assistance in moving everything. You didn't mind. “Right now the table has displays of books on the history of witchcraft and others of the sort, quite fitting for the upcoming season, but quite the insult to the monument they’ve decided to promote within.” He sighed. You couldn’t help but smile. “But, I think we can get even better.”

“I have ideas. I think I could help with this.”

Leon smiled wider. A gesture he doesn't often show to the general patronage. It made you feel warm. “That’s what I was hoping you would say. Now, though, an unfortunate part.” He sighed, and his smile disappeared. More shivers took place in your body of the heat. “I would prefer it to be done by the end of this week, and because the mighty institution is using the Halloween season to promote museum ticket sales,” Another sigh. “They’ve extended our opening hours. Now, we, as the archive, do have the liberty to close our area before they close the museum’s doors, but I've been strongly advised against doing so.”

You nodded again, listening. He shrugged, looking at you, as if waiting for an input you didn’t know you should give. You squeaked out an agreement.

“I would like to shift two days of your hours to overnight. Would that be a problem?”

“It’s not. This is my full time job now, so I'm at your expense.”

He chuckled softly at your words. “Not an expense, just… assistance.”

Nonetheless, even if Leon did agree to your words of expense, you would be agreeing. He told you the guidelines, don’t come in for the day shifts, just come in for the nighttime. He handed over a key, an old, brass one that he told you would unlock the large archive doors after hours. You agreed with no hesitation, of course.

You had discovered soon after this, that fear could exist in the same plane as excitement. Really, isn’t fear just an overwhelming excitement of something unknown? Standing in front of the mansion, you craned your neck as far back as your body would allow. The looming building was dark, save for a few spotlights, but other than that, it was as dead as the night around you. The suspicious lack of insect and animal life noises was eerie, but you swallowed that lump of nerves, and walked up to the front.

As Leon instructed you, flashing your badge to the night guards let you right through, and you followed the path you have come to know so well that led right to the archive doors. 

It was a strange aura that surrounded you, one that made you hesitate briefly before unlocking, and relocking yourself inside. The air was so still, and that life you felt pulsing through the corridors on a daily basis was missing now. There was nothing, no one, no noise to fill your ears, so the blood pumping through was your only solace now. Before you could sit on this any longer and unease yourself further, you moved on.

The lock slid cleanly into place, and the resounding click that was heard resonated throughout the hall. You pushed the door open, wanting to get away from any undead lurking eyes that may be watching you. 

Not turning to shut the door behind you, you stared out into the vast expanse of the dark archive. The shelves were still, though shadows flitted in between them as if dancing with the moonlight. Every time you blinked, dark figures appeared at the edge of your vision, teasing your brain, making a shudder do its rounds throughout your nervous system. Though you loved this place, the nighttime gave it a whole new personality you weren’t sure you were quite ready to uncover. 

Turning to your right, you flipped the first two lightswitches, casting a spotlight down onto the center of the floor, and one at the door where you stood. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you turned back around.

“Leon!” You cried out.

Said man was in the center of the floor, as if coming out to greet you like it was the middle of the day. He had on a white button down, the first two loose around his neck, and his hair falling lazily over the left side of his forehead. It took even longer for your breath to still.

“You’re here?” You gasped out.

“Yes, I was wondering when you would get here. I guess you are right on schedule, though.” You carefully fled down the stairs, not taking your eyes off Leon, curious if he would disappear again. 

“Here with all the lights off? How could you see?” He didn’t answer your question until you were now face to face with him, having placed your belongings on the staircase, figuring you would not be spending much time in the office.

He shrugged slowly. “You get used to it after a while. There’s something about this place at night, I don’t get many chances to enjoy it with only myself.” You said nothing to this, just trying to digest his logic. There was no point in arguing it.

“Well, we should probably get started then?” He smiled softly at your words and flung instructions at you, making the night go by as if you were asleep through it all. 

With half of the display moved, Leon had stalked away to the main office, and you cleaned up the floor to pass until he let the both of you out. Standing next to the tall shelves, facing the window, you almost started to understand what Leon had said earlier. There is something about the place at night.

You had never thought you would get to experience that, though, of course. What other chance would you be wandering throughout these aisles all alone at night, with all the lights off? You were curious now, and jealous that Leon had been the one to experience that, and you might not ever.

You walked slowly towards the window, the lights behind you fading the further you went from them. Your fingertips grazed the edges of the shelves you walked along, as if picking up all the information held on them in one little touch. The night looked cold from where you stood, and you almost felt the temperature on your skin in that instant. The moon was full and bright, and it lit up your skin like the lights now behind you. Though these walls were thick and with plenty of objects in the room to muffle the sound, it could not drown out the roaring chorus of crickets perched in every branch right outside the glass. The chirps matched the beating of your heart, and soon the rush of blood was replaced by the insects' whispers, a cacophony of life, your vessel was the audience.

You saw yourself in the glass. Your skin lit up by the moon's graces, the hollows of your face carved out in deep shadows, you became painted into the history within these mansion walls, and you looked as if you always belonged. Eternal.

“The moon is bright.” 

You gasped and startled again, turning swiftly to see Leon peering over your shoulder, looking at the same illusive mirror that you were. “You should stop doing that Leon, I’m going to have a heart attack one of these days.” You breathed out a laugh. 

“I thought I was obvious enough, but I suppose not.” He looked past you back into the window again. “The moonlight makes you look marvelous.”

Your stomach twisted. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, and couldn't help but turn back around to look again, and dare you say, you agreed. Your airbrushed skin, even flawless in the reflection of the glass, a gentle chiaroscuro against the vast emptiness behind you. Except for–

“Full moon nights are when I feel the most company here. I think she wants to be alive here as well.” You turned again, seeing Leon having unmoved from directly behind you. The cool blue light sitting atop his cheekbones, highlighting strands of blonde hair, contrasting the blaze of his hazel eyes, which were unrelenting on you. He, too, was a relief sculpture under the coalescence of the moon and the shadows. Where was his portrait to be viewed next to yours?

“Yeah, I… I agree now.” Though you felt a shiver crawl through you, you couldn’t make yourself turn around again to look. Your body was preventing you from doing so. Simply, you could only walk past Leon, back onto the main floor.

The ride home along in your car proved no more solace than you were hoping. You could see the silhouette of the mansion grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, and it felt like departing from a friend who did nothing but tell all their troubles. It was hard to believe how quickly your image of the place shifted, though, you still felt so drawn, and so attracted to the premises. And, not to mention, the man within its walls.

What you saw puzzled you. Simply, it had been a trick of the light. You knew that there was no way the light from the moon was able to reach every point of the floor, so he was standing in the shadow. But, how had he approached so silently? Leon was always so silent. This wasn’t the first time the man has snuck up on you. A few others have said he gives them a fright as well, but it seems to happen to you much more often.

Leon was an enigma, in more ways than one. He spoke in riddles, or it felt like it. You read plenty of classics in your time studying literature, and it was as if he had taken his vocabulary straight from works published a century ago. With a borderline transatlantic accent, it always took you a moment to decipher his sentences. It wasn’t as if he read too many of the classics, it was like he came from one. 

As silly as the idea might sound to others, you believed it fully. It was just a tall tale from times past, warning people of a monster that didn’t exist. They kept the legend going to fuel tourism and sell museum tickets, but some still believed, and one of those some was you. You felt this answer in your heart fully and truly, and while it scared you to a degree, it awoke an excitement as never before felt in you. That almost scared you more.

There was no way that Leon wasn’t the vampire roaming the halls of the old mansion and archive.

His aura was one you had never felt in a person before. You have been attracted to people in the past, but you never felt someone so physically radiant that it was almost tangible. His gaze cut right through you like the sharpest knife, bringing a stinging trail along your skin as well as the burning desire to feel it again. It was undeniable, you had never felt such an insane attraction to someone you barely knew, yet, knowing that plus your newfound discovery, which you fully believed in, you wanted to dive headfirst into this unknown territory to explore. 

All day this weighed on your mind. You couldn’t rid Leon’s image from your thoughts. You couldn’t deny, even without the personality that occupied your thoughts, he was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. He was picturesque in form, a painting made by the most skilled hands. You were ashamed to admit, only slightly, that you were dying to know more about the maps of his body. He always hid under button up shirts, but none that were ever too big that you couldn’t tell he had large biceps, most of the time the sleeves rolled up so the veins in his forearm protruded with movement. The sight always made your mouth dry.

You had to assume, only based on these facts, that he must have been fit, and if he was, which you had no doubt of, paired with his stunning profile, you weren’t sure how you made it so far into this job without making an attempt to pass out in his arms.

As expected, you could think of nothing else leading up to the hours you had to join him back for the second overnight shift. You honestly forgot the whole purpose of you going at this time, all of that having been pushed to the side in favor of thinking of the man in charge of the place. You were nervous, yet anticipated your arrival, hoping to gain more clues to back up your (unwavering, in your mind) hypothesis.

The guards let you in without the flash of your badge. You slinked quietly through the main hall, footsteps bouncing off of every surface. There wasn’t a soul in sight, yet you felt life all over your body. 

The key slid into the lock with ease, and the tell tale clink of the turn mechanism followed.

“Leon?” Your voice echoed through the archive as you shut the door behind you. The lights were off, once again.

You bound down the steps, dropping your belongings on the same stair as the previous night. This time, instead of heading right to the center of the floor to converge with Leon, you stood still on the last step.

“Leon?” You asked again after the man did not do his magical appearance trip at your entry. You felt a cold chill run over your skin. Now, you feel more alone than before. For the first time since becoming involved in the archive, the aisles and books were more sinister than inviting, and every dark corner had a spirit watching you.

You slowly left the stair you held solace on, and walked forward into the center of the room. It felt like every shelf and spine were staring at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to make a wrong move. You wanted to get to work, but you could barely will yourself back up the stairs to the lightswitch. You looked around again as if begging for help from a bystander who was not there.

There was a sudden shift in the air. You weren’t sure now if it was real or if you were hallucinating, but you felt a constricting sensation in your chest, and you felt not alone anymore. Leon was nowhere in sight, but you knew someone else was here.

Suddenly, you couldn’t take it anymore. The silence was enveloping you like a thick rope, and your breath was coming out sloppy. You had to leave.

You took one step backwards and hit a wall behind you. You yelped, not remembering stepping anywhere else besides the center of the room. You turned, and nearly jumped higher out of your body at the sight of what, or who, was behind you.

“You were down here with the lights off. Is something wrong or are you trying out my methods?”

Leon stood before you, in his usual uniform of a white button down shirt and black pants. His hair looked longer tonight, not pushed back with gel, but soft waves were falling across his face, pushed aside to let his sculpted face show through. Here, in the dark, he was much more brooding than he could have ever come across during your typical shifts. That gaze was not the friendly one you had seen in times past.

“No, no I just…” You swallowed, the words falling right out of your mouth. “I thought you would be here. Well, you are, now, but…” You gestured behind you, still feeling the presence of non-existent bodies. 

Leon slowly nodded at your words, not moving towards you, but you felt his presence getting closer. 

“I have been here. I was in the office.” He gestured behind him lazily, to the office you were used to frequenting as an employee. The door was closed.

You shook your head. “I didn’t hear you, though.” You looked again at the door, and when you looked back into his eyes, he knew what you were thinking. He was lying, and he knew you knew that. 

“You know I’m quiet.” His tone felt like a surge straight from your head to your feet, rooting you into place no matter how much you urged your brain to send movement to your limbs.

“Well…” You pushed words out of your throat. “I guess let’s finish this, then.” You broke eye contact and finally felt your body moving forward, but you knew he was still looking at you. You could feel it. 

The moon, if it were even possible, was even brighter this night. It’s full face projected into the windows like a spotlight, and once you were able to put your body into motion and further the project of moving book displays, you barely paid note of how Leon never turned the lights on for the both of you. Maybe he could see perfectly well.

It was nearing one in the morning at this point, and you had one last stack to move. You made gentle conversation with Leon throughout, refusing to put on a strange facade solely off of your own thoughts. He reverted back to his normal state, though normal is a generous word to use for a man like Leon. 

You walked back to the table being used to house books while they are moved, and picked up the last stack. Bram Stoker, Dracula.

This made you snap your head up. You were sure this hadn’t been on the list set to display, yet, here it was. You looked around, trying to search out Leon to question him about this last minute addition. But, as expected, you realized, he was nowhere to be seen. In fact, you don't remember what he was doing last.

“Leon?” You looked back over to the office door, still closed. You would have heard if he went in there and closed it behind him. You put the stack of books down and walked (slowly, you now felt that desolate aloneness again) over to the back right corner, towards Leon’s private office.

You could not make yourself walk any quicker than the snail pace you currently set. It was odd, and you knew if you were afraid you should be walking faster, but for some reason, surrounded by these books and shelves, you felt as if the faster you moved, the quicker you would be caught. Caught by what? You couldn’t answer that question, yet the word suddenly appeared in your head to describe the situation.

You were distracted on the way to the back. You thought, again, you saw a drift of black smoke waft by as if it were another hallucination. You stopped in your tracks, heart in your throat. You shifted paths, only momentarily, you were now desperate to be back in the company of Leon, your supposed vampire master archivist.

The carpet below you muffled your footsteps, but still, you noticed they were loud enough to be heard, unlike how Leon had been appearing from behind you out of thin air. You almost had to squint as you walked by the windows, the moonlight a sudden burst of fireworks in contrast to the dim workspace you had been habiting. As expected, after leering around the corners, hoping to sneak up on the entity, there was nothing but empty space.

There was a light pattering at the window, and you turned your head to see the sky spitting down on you. The window, slowly becoming stained with raindrops, still held that brush stroked image of you, forever intertwined within the archive. It was a hypnotizing image, as if you no longer recognized yourself the more the rain came down. It was a comforting sound, the taps of the drops on the glass filling the void. It felt like another presence, and it calmed you down to a degree, as calm as you could allow yourself to get.

There was a creak from behind you, as if someone had opened a door, or stepped on a stair. You whipped back around, hoping to see Leon at this point, but still, he was nowhere to be seen. The room was still, everything untouched, but your eyes still scanned every crevice, convinced you were going to miss something if you weren’t careful. 

The rain was still sounding off behind you, and you could see the bending of the light as it cast onto the floor. It was the only thing moving. You were far too on edge now.

You turned back to the window…

“Leon!” You took a step back, now more afraid than surprised at his sudden appearance. “Where did you come from? I’ve been looking for you.” You took a huff, trying to catch your breath from his genuinely scaring you. He was standing in front of the window, the moon behind him casting into a deep silhouette, face barely available. 

“I’ve been here the whole time.” His voice was lower than before now, and you could barely piece together thoughts. He turned his head to the side, as if surveying the room that you were just inspecting. His eyes caught a glimpse of the light, and you saw the deep yellow in them. It sent a sudden pit to your stomach, and a memory to flash in front of your eyes.

The day he had taken you up to his office, and you spoke about the legends of the vampire, and why you were drawn to the house. You remember the look he gave you when he had said he appreciated your honesty. 

Leon had blue eyes that day. That color was nowhere to be seen now.

You swallowed, trying to moisten your mouth in order to speak. “No… no you weren’t. I looked for you. You disappeared. And you just came out of nowhere. What is going on with you, Leon?” As hard as you tried to suppress it, you heard the trembling sounds that came out of your mouth. It was audible that you were panicking, and he knew it. 

He stared at you for another moment. His arms were clasped behind his back. “What are you afraid of?”

The rumbling of his voice shot straight through you, to your dismay, and you forced all your composure together to face him without folding.

You gave him a once over, trying to find… something, that might give him away. What you were looking for exactly, you couldn’t say, but you couldn’t stare into his eyes any longer, especially having realized they were not the same eyes you saw a few days ago.

“You’re just… being odd, Leon.” You looked back into his eyes, or what you could see of them from underneath the shadows. Being this close to him, you felt like you were suffocating, and you needed air. “I would like to finish this now.”

You slowly side stepped him, Leon still unmoving in his position against the window. You sighed and turned your head, catching your rain-distorted reflection once again. It was you, a mirror image of someone suffering the same mystifying scenarios as you were in the present moment, standing ever alone against the bookshelves, not offering the comfort they usually do. 

You stopped short in your tracks and did a double take. Now your body was fully turned toward the window. 

Your reflection stared at you, looking just as perplexed as you did. Without shifting your eyes to the side, you saw the equally distorted reflection of the wooden shelves, illuminated under the lunar glow. You saw your empty hands, you saw the dark hallway behind you, and out of your peripheral vision you saw that Leon had not moved from his spot yet… yet you could not see him.

Leon was not present in the reflection. 

You could do nothing but stare in shock and slight horror as you watched the whole scene unfold. A part of you was now realizing, though you had put two and two together in the comfort and safety of your own home, now in the presence of the man and seeing the evidence with your own two eyes, your veins ran cold, and you could not will yourself to move. Not until Leon did.

He shifted, you couldn’t even turn your head to watch. Now he was out of any point of view you had, but you felt his presence press himself against your back, staring into the same image you were. It was the most disorienting experience, feeling Leon’s body behind you, yet not seeing him peering over your shoulder. It didn’t take an expert for him to know how you were feeling in this moment, and you were also sure he knew exactly what conclusion you had just come to.

“What are you thinking?” His deep voice presented itself directly in your ear, and you felt the featherlight graze of his lips on the shell. You could feel the strands of his hanging blonde waves hit your cheek, and while your eyes stung like you wanted to cry, a blaze set itself alight within your body at his proximity.

You could only shake your head slowly at first. “You…” You fumbled over your words, unable to take your eyes off of the glass. The mysterious image of only you and not the person directly behind you will forever be burned into memory. “What are you?”

You heard him inhale slowly. You felt the heat from his face lift away from yours, but it only moved up a fraction, his mouth now pressing closely into your hairline. 

“Don’t you know already? You’re a smart girl.” He was condescending with his words, most surely using what you had told him a few days ago against you now. All that talk you did about you believing the legend of the mansion’s vampire, yet here you were, standing right in front of him and refusing to say it out loud.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Your voice was barely louder than a tremble. “You let me run my mouth like a fool in your office, and you didn’t even tell me that I was right this whole time.” Your tongue was so dry, speaking became a task. Your fingers were growing numb, but you still found it hard to move.

He snickered, and you felt the air from his breath fan your face. “And ruin the surprise? I’d much rather see the look on your face after you put it together yourself than having told you right then and there. There’s nothing I love more than when I see someone realize the reality of their convictions. Quite especially someone like you.”

You closed your eyes. It was all you could stand to do at this moment. You shot them back open, however, when you felt his broad hand at your back, pushing you forward, closer to the glass. 

Walking closer to the window with the rain now coming down steadily against it, he released where he had put his hand, but did not remove himself from your closeness. 

“What do you see?” 

He said nothing more, waiting for you to find the composure to be able to speak properly again. As hard as you tried to look past your bleary visage to the outside world, it was nearly impossible. It was dark as ever out there, the moon unrelenting in her radiance. 

After a few more seconds, “Myself.” You heard Leon hum from behind you. 

“And?” He egged you on.

You shook your head. “That’s it. I can see the moon. The rain.” Your voice grew softer, body relaxing slowly, but for what cause, you weren’t able to find. You involuntarily let out a low sigh when you felt the tips of his fingers crawl up the right side of your neck, settling on your jaw. He pushed your head to the side, enough to expose the canvas of flesh in the reflection.

“Curious… Don’t you think?” His hand flitted lower, raising a trail of goosebumps along the tender skin. A finger pressed inward, right underneath the crook of your jaw, feeling the pulse of your bloodstream. “How much of yourself you can see, the first thing you always notice, for the living must look and be vain.”

Chills spread quickly throughout your body. His hand felt shockingly warm, the opposite of what you would have expected from the typical vampirical lore. 

“You… you don’t know what you look like?” You whispered.

“How should I? I’m not able to unless someone lets me know, but even then, do I want to?”

You said nothing for a moment, trying to breathe through the weakness in your abdomen at his touch, which was still laid over the tender place on your throat.

“I’d like to think you still look the same as the day you stopped aging.” He hummed again at your words. Despite his remark of not knowing if he would like anyone to tell him what he looked like, he let you continue in your description. “You’re like a sculpture. Rough around the edges but so blended out, only made by hands whom the gods approved of.” His hand left your pulse, settling on the crook of your neck and shoulder, slightly squeezing. You couldn’t see, of course, but you felt that he still held his face close to yours. “You’d almost be better fitted walking the main halls as a work of art than hiding in these books.”

“That is very affirming to hear from a woman like you.” A breath of silence, then he continued. “You’ve always known, you always believed, and you know what I am. I’m quite drawn to you, I am long familiar with the feeling of someone who is covered in fear, it’s nowhere present on you.” He brought his lips down back to your ear, and you felt his left hand sneak around your waist. Your knees almost buckled. “You’re captivating… I cannot bring myself to keep things professional at all times.”

You were now, truly, at a loss for words, however he did not take your silence as resilience. The hand that was not around your waist was now pushing down the shoulder of your top, revealing the smooth skin. You shuddered again, letting your eyes close once more, and you gave in to the physical feelings over trying to rationalize anything verbally. 

“I can’t stand here and deny myself from trying to get to you any longer. I have to know… I must know…” His voice was a borderline growl in your ear now, and you shocked yourself with the smallest whimper that poured over your lips. It only fueled him. 

You were pushed forward by a sudden force from Leon, both hands coming up to brace yourself against the window. You were glad no one had ever turned the lights on, if any of the guards decided to walk the perimeter, surely you would have been seen.

Interestingly enough to you, despite being in the current position you were, you no longer felt any anxiety from being in the presence of your manifested form of Leon the vampire. Though he did stand there and confirm it all to you, no part of you felt like you needed to run away any longer. In fact, the contrast between the cold window and his warm body was all the convincing you needed to stay.

“I would never do this on an ordinary day, if it were anyone else I would fight these urges, but with you… I just find myself succumbing to something I wanted so suddenly.” His mouth moved against the skin of your neck, and you arched back into his body behind you. “I will not continue unless you tell me not to, but you should know I need more than just the one thing from you right now…” 

The deep octaves of his voice had your thoughts swimming, and any rational mind had flown far out the window. There was nothing to argue with when there was nothing you felt the need to refuse. 

“I…” A gasp from you, collecting breath you had not known you were holding. “I can’t let you do this then let you loose. This is too far beyond simplicity now.” Your breath fogged the window, and you couldn't help but notice once more how you could only see your bare shoulder in the glass, and not his large hand around the bone.

“I would never,” His lips were tucked up under your jawline, the vibrations from his voice being felt all over your body. A kiss would be less intimate. “You’re mine.”

At once, his hand on your waist tightened and he opened his mouth, his sharp fangs pierced the flesh right underneath your pulse and you gasped loudly, the pinch making you stiffen at first, then making your legs lose balance.

Leon’s hot mouth on your throat was like a painkiller compared to his teeth sunk into you, and his hand held you steady as you slowly felt the need to fall to your knees. He removed his right hand from your shoulder and wrapped it underneath your right arm, crossing over your chest to hold you steady against him, and the more you gasped and writhed at him feeding, the closer he pulled you into him.

He was groaning into your neck, his tongue swiping over the stinging wounds after he had retracted his fangs, and every time more blood pulsed out of the surface, he rocked his hips into you, and you could tell he was enjoying this in more ways than just the one. And, something you never would have believed you would get to admit, you were growing more excited with every passing second as well.

“Leon…” You whispered, unable to find strength to raise to your full voice. You clenched your eyelids shut, a burst of white filtering through the darkness. Your limbs started trembling. “Please…”

With a gasp from the man, he pulled his mouth off of your neck, the cold air stinging the once warm location. He pulled you close into his body. He was breathing heavily.

With his still low and raspy voice, he spoke again, his body twitching against yours from the rush of adrenaline. “With one taste now, I’m not sure I will ever be able to stay satiated without your blood again,” You tilted your head back, resting it on his. He held you up. “You remind me of a time when being alive meant something greater than just a state of being to me. For as long as I can…” He adjusted his head, and you felt the tip of his nose grace your jaw. It made you jump at first, afraid to feel those piercing teeth again, but he let you revel in the soft touch. “I cannot let another claim you to be theirs.”

Leon brought his left hand back upward on your body, caressing your face and directing it sideways to look at him. His eyes were burning bright with gold, and your hazy vision locked onto it like a target. 

“Tell me yes,” He whispered now, his mouth grazing yours. You were barely hanging on, the blood loss creating more of a haziness than you were expecting, but you would have been able to say this answer even if you could barely speak. You had made your mind up about this with Leon a long time ago. 

“Yes, Leon,” You breathily replied, and the grip on both of his hands intensified, capturing your body even closer to his if it was possible, and came down onto you in a heated kiss.

He held the side of your face to keep you upright, and it only made you melt further. His strong hands and arms were the sole reason you hadn't fallen to the floor by now, your mind was swimming and all of your nerves were aflame. You were barely paying any attention to the dull throbbing coming from the two pinpricks in your neck. 

Leon, you could tell immediately, was a passionate lover. He made sure to keep you close to him at all times, afraid at any moment you could run away, from him, from this archive, from this experience. You knew you could never do that, not after such a bond had already been created by letting him feed off of you. His arms were solace in this moment, and his mouth a lifesaver, ironically.

He gently bit at your lips, and when he pulled away for you to catch your breath, you could taste blood. It was your own, you knew, but some sick inner part of you loved the thrill it sent through you. You wanted more.

His mouth was back on your skin in an instant, this time by your cheek, ear, down to your jaw and neck. You flinched when he landed on the bite mark, but he only trailed over it with a light kiss, he didn’t intend on reopening them. One of your hands came down off of the cold glass, now fogged from the heat from the two of you, to wrap around his wrist. You could barely stand, and wanted to stay in his embrace, but needed to look at him.

At your touch, he slowly let you go, and when there was enough space for movement, you turned carefully, purposefully not leaving his contact.

You shuddered at the cold window on your back, but felt heat flood your senses again when you looked into his eyes. Leon loomed over you, gaze full of lust, chest heaving with having spent energy on you, but you knew he had more to give. And you had more you could take.

You grabbed the front of his shirt by the middle and pulled him closer to you. He wasted no time in coming where you had beckoned him, hand slithering around your waist to draw you in again. 

After a breath, you spoke, “I can’t… I don’t think I can stand for long,” Your eyes fluttered shut for a few seconds at a time, and you couldn’t help but to let them. 

The other hand that hadn’t worked its way around your waist trailed down your side, over the curve of your hips and thighs, and took solace underneath.

“Don’t worry about that,” It took only a second at most for him to lift you, settling himself in between your legs, back still pressed against the window. Leon’s hand was gripping your thigh, and the other was still behind you. Your own arms wrapped around his neck suddenly, and it brought you face to face with him once again. “I’ve got you. I won’t drop you.”

You sighed at his words, thankful he was now holding you, as that surely would have been the breaking point, and you would have been in a puddle on the floor by now. You let your head roll back, hitting the window with a dull thud, but any pain that might have happened due to it was nowhere to be felt, with other sensations at the forefront of your nerve system.

Leon had pressed himself against you again, the hardness of his cock through his pants pressing incessantly against your heat, he reattached his lips to your throat, nipping and sucking at the soft skin, eliciting mewls from your mouth at his touch.

Your hands explored ceaselessly along his strong arms, his biceps flexing from holding you, from the excitement coursing through his own body, and you couldn’t help but arch back into him, trying to get even closer than possibly allowed. You felt him pull away again, and you wrapped one hair through his soft blonde locks and pulled him back, connecting your lips in fervor, kissing him like your life source was dependent on you staying alive.

HIs lips were soft and hot, you were addicted to the taste. The tang of your blood mixed on his tongue danced with the shared saliva between you, and with every kiss you wished you could get even closer to him. You tugged on his hair, but it was as if he couldn’t even feel it, he was too wrapped up in you.

His tongue roamed your mouth, both soon becoming slick with spit and sweat between your bodies, and you couldn’t take the heat anymore. 

You pulled away, only by an inch but with enough space to whine out, “Leon, please,”

No more communication was needed, he understood your words. Maybe if you let it go on any longer, he would now just by whatever your body was telling him.

The arm he had around your waist snaked back to your side, and dipped down in between the two of you. Leon kissed your neck once, your head still relaxed against the window, unable to conjure the energy to move. You shivered with his touch along your thigh, the casual sweater dress you had on now becoming a good idea. You thanked your past self.

“If I continue will you let me,” He spoke into your neck, close enough to your ear for you to hear the low rumble of his voice. “I got a taste of you, but I know it won’t be enough.” His hand was already caressing the tender skin of your inner thigh, causing waves of chills and heat though your body and straight to your core. He was mere inches away from pulling aside your panties and running his fingers along your wetness, and you didn’t know if you could wait for that any longer.

“I need you Leon,” You whispered, and tried to turn your head to face him as best as you could. “I’ll let you forever.” 

He sighed, but it was closer to a growl. He thrust his hips forward, creating a delicious friction in between the two of you, and you couldn't stop the moan that escaped. Your hand was still laced in his hair, and he inhaled sharply, in pleasure rather than pain, every time you pulled hard. 

You whined out loud when he withdrew the hand that was so close to putting fingers inside of you, but you quickly quieted down when he utilized it instead to work apart the clasp of his belt and button of his pants. He had no intentions of wasting time, though this was a man that had all in the world. 

You lifted your head with the surge of energy you found at the sound of this and attempted to look down, needing to feed your eyes before he fed your pussy. He caught you before you could make the move, smashing your lips together once again, but you didn’t mind the distraction, it was a better way to pass the time rather than have your mouth empty. 

Leon wrigled himself around for a moment, attempting to pull himself out with one hand. He sighed after he accomplished this, pulling away from your mouth, but instantly was back on your neck. This time, he gave you what you wanted.

With his other hand still supporting your thigh, and showing no signs of getting tired of this action, he replaced his hand back inside your dress skirt, but skipping right over its previous position. Instead, he placed the pad of his thumb right onto the gusset of your panties, pressing with enough force to give you the friction you were desperate for. You gasped out loud, and he only continued this action to make you writhe against him.

The hand that was not tangled in his hair traveled down his chest, feeling the hard ridges of his muscles and bones, toying with the buttons of his shirt to pull them apart. When he felt your hand touch his bare chest, you could feel the muscles flex for a second. 

He decided he had had enough of the teasing, though he was the one doing it to you. He roughly pulled aside your panties, and your mouth dried up at the action. Your breath hitched, and you knew what was coming.

He pulled away from your skin for a second to look into your eyes. You could feel yourself slowly slipping away, the dizziness from the blood loss slowly fading, but that strength was whisked away instantly by the arousal pooling in every crevice of your body. Leon’s eyes were half lidded, pupils blown, mouth slightly parted. You could tell just by looking at him that he barely had anything else on his mind. Just the few sips of your elixir gave him enough energy to last the whole night, most likely.

“I’m sorry if I get rough,” You felt the vibrations of his words through his chest, which you still had one hand firmly planted on. “Everything is heightened now and…” He swiped through your clothed pussy again, making you buck your hips forward. “You are irresistible, and it’s doing something to me… That I haven’t felt in a long time.”

You said nothing, or rather, didn’t have the time to, as after he concluded speaking, his fingers breached the threshold of your panties and he slipped a finger through your wet folds, making you inhale sharply and press yourself further against him. He leaned forward, pinning you fully against himself and the window, using his teeth to gently bite at your neck again. 

He proceeded to stay buried in your neck for the next minute or so, his fingers going back and forth from teasing your entrance to applying pressure on your clit, making you whine and wiggle around in his hold. Every time you moaned breathily right next to his ear, he growled lowly.

The rain continued to pound on the window behind you, mirroring the feeling of your dripping heat, tightening around nothing as Leon continued to tease you, the feeling of his twitching head would occasionally press against you, and you desperately tried to rut forward to put it in, but he held you in place. 

Finally, when he did decide to show mercy on your state, you whined so sharply your voice cut in and out of audibility, his thick fingers stretching you in a way that felt like bliss, no matter if any pain occurred. He thumbed your clit while slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you, feeling yourself grow slicker with every stroke, the movement becoming less and less resistant as he worked you open.

Surely he was able to feel your thighs trembling in his hand, your legs twitching with the feeling of his fingers, paired with the tongue against your pulse, the non-bitten side, you were almost at the edge without anything major happening.

He pulled away, putting himself once again in front of your face, searching you for signs that he shouldn’t continue. Tears were brimming on your lower lash line, though not from pain, but from the lack of pleasure. He saw this as it was, knowing what you were feeling in this moment, knowing you needed more, needed him. 

Leon held one second of eye contact, then dipped into your mouth to kiss you chastely, and at the same time, sheathed himself inside of you. You gasped into the kiss, deepening it as you tried to thrust yourself forward to take more and more of him in. He held your hips firmly in place, not letting you take any of the control. Your fingers were tugging so harshly at his hair now, you would be surprised if you pulled away with no strands stuck between your fingers. He welcomed the sting of it though, pushing himself forward into you until he completely bottomed out, the feeling of his twitching cock in your walls made your whole body shiver, and you felt yourself pulsing around him, begging for some action to relieve your aching.

Your breath was stuck in your throat at this. The fullness you were experiencing made it difficult to inhale anything, and with Leon not only filling your insides, but still keeping his mouth connected to your neck, everything was making your head spin.

“Leon…” You breathed out, and you received a grunt in return. He pistoned his hips forward again, making you whine sharply, before pulling himself out and repeating the action. You quickly became loud.

There was nothing rough about the action. He was slow and thoughtful with every stroke, hands gripping your ass where he held you up, pushing bruises into the skin where his fingers made contact. He groaned with every other thrust, enjoying the feeling of you around him as you were of him inside of you. 

You could barely make any more noise at this point, just heavy breathing was coming from the both of you, a whine occasionally making its way out from your throat, but too many sensations were happening at once, it was all so overstimulating.

Your hands were roaming, trying to find any surface on him possible to steady yourself. You were clawing at him desperately, feeling a little sorry for the marks you were creating along his chest, but every line of pain was being pushed into his performance, and he was not relenting on his power.

“Fuck,” Leon moaned into your ear, and he took one second to collect himself before resuming his pace. You could feel how wet the both of you had become, as well as hear it. “You feel amazing…” Your head rolled back once more and thudded against the rain stricken window, but it was not loud enough to drown out the incessant squelching happening. Leon began to pick his pace up slightly, most likely your sign that he was getting close.

He thrust hard and stayed seated inside of you, making your legs tense up, and pleasure shoot throughout your entire body. Your hand had finally let go of his hair at this, squeezing with as much strength as you could muster up in your body on his thick shoulder, where you could feel every muscle as he struggled to hold you up and keep himself together.

“You’re too much for me,” He gasped into your ear, “I can’t hold on much longer,” 

You lifted your head off of the window and leaned down, he met you halfway and sealed his words with a deep kiss. Moving away from other spots on his body, your hands traveled back up and cupped both sides of his face, kissing him with passion as he tried to split focus between kissing you and fucking you.

You could feel his breath on your face as he began stuttering, and his sounds made your stomach tighten, and you clenched your walls around him, making it even harder for him to continue.

He pulled away by a mere centimeter, saliva stuck between you two in a string, the look in his eyes soft yet strong, he admired you in a way that made you forget he had seen a thousand other beautiful things in his lifetime. It made you feel like you topped the list. Sweat was beading on his forehead, it was catching the moonlight behind you, making his skin shine like silver. His eyes were blue again.

He furrowed his brow together, his hips losing its steady rhythm. “I–I can’t,” He almost whimpered, and you took pity on his state. It was arousing to see this man fall apart under you.

You tried your best to speak, voice cutting in between heavy breaths. “So don’t.” These words elicited a sob-like sound from the man in front of you. His mouth dropped open, eyelids scrunching together, letting the last of himself loose that he had been holding together barely at all. 

With broken gasps and groans, you felt Leon push himself for just a moment more, the pleasure on his face driving you right to your orgasm, and the knot inside of you came loose. Solace was found on his chest again, and your nails dug into him as you rode it out, knowing the feeling was going to push Leon over as well.

You felt it before you saw it on his face. You felt the throb of his thick cock inside of you, his hips unable to do anything steadily at this point, and he let himself go inside of you.

He was looking down between the two of you, though you were sure his eyes were closed as you were still pressed together. He groaned once, twice, and when he eventually looked up, in between his panting lips and huffs for air, you saw his shining fangs that had come out to play again.

You almost invited him to bite you again. Surely it would have allowed him to continue.

You blinked and they were gone. His facial features softened as he looked at you, your skin was on fire from the warm air settling in around you two, and your lungs wouldn’t fill efficiently enough.

He gulped, trying to wet his mouth. You were experiencing the same. “Are you alright to stand?”

You removed your hands from his chest and placed them on one of the panes of the window. “I think I will be, maybe… eventually.”

He huffed a laugh. He gently maneuvered his hands to let your feet plant back onto the ground. After being held up for so long, your knees felt like jelly. You stumbled.

He still loomed over you after you had regained your balance. He discreetly put himself away while you were busy controlling the rush of blood back to your head, and now he was keeping a watchful eye, scared, like you were fragile.

“I’m just unsteady. I won’t break.” You remarked. You pulled the hem of your dress down.

Leon smiled. It warmed you. “Of course I know that. I just…” He looked away for a moment, as if ashamed. “I drank a lot more than I should have. And then proceeded to heighten your heart rate, which was not my best course of action, but at times, I tend to get ahead of myself.” You stared at him as he talked. You felt endeared by his worries. 

“I feel fine, right now. But I was hazy. But…” You bit your lip, wondering if you should continue your train of thought. Why not, you concluded, the most intimate act was already water under the bridge. “I liked how it felt.”

You couldn’t help but smile, a slight difference to the tone of the moment, but you noticed his hair, which he hadn’t yet patted down from your fingers running wild in them. It made him look rugged, playful. Human.

“I…” Leon said nothing else for a few more seconds. You observed each other. Reveling in the events that just transpired, and exactly what this means moving forward. There was no more strictly professional relationship. You could feign it to the public, but you will always want him. He will always crave you.

He continued. “I meant what I said. I had a little too much just for a first taste, and it heightened every nerve ending in my body, you allowed me to continue, and I fear… Well, now I need to see where this takes our relations. I would like…” Another pause for humility. “I would like you to stay. Stay here, not for the building, but with me.”

You were the one to gulp this time. Even just his words had a sweeping effect like a wave, and you were desperately trying to breathe through the undertow. 

You walked forward, grabbing his shirt by the half undone buttons and pulled him into a kiss. You let the passion take over in place for the lust a few minutes prior, and you could feel the difference all over your body. You knew your answer.

You pulled away, both of you slightly dazed. You whispered into his lips, “That was already my plan.” 

The moonlight hugged you both goodnight.

#leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #fanfiction #leon s kennedy #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 #leon kennedy smut #vampires #vampire fiction #vampire smut

[ninjaturtlemaniac]

Part 3 Trolls Headcanons/ Theories/ Thoughts/ Ideas

Part1 Part2 Part4 Part5 Part6 Part7 Part8 Part9 Part10

Floyd - in a desperate last resort he once mentioned he was part of Brozone to be noticed by a music producer. It's one of his biggest regrets.

Floyd - has volunteered at homeless shelters and performed at benefit concerts.

Bruce - the restaurants kitchen is set up like in Ratatouille (ladders, ramps, bridges, pulley systems) for Bruce to navigate.

Bruce - keeps every one of his kids drawings, their refrigerator is absolutely covered in them.

Bruce - his go-to excuse is "I can't, I've got 13 college tuitions to save for."

Bruce - has given 'love coupons' to Brandy before

Clay - refers to Viva as his 'Work Wife'

Clay - knows how to use a stenograph

Clay - absolutely did not roll around the putt-putt course like the others.

Clay - everything must be neat and organized, after living with four brothers he values cleanliness so I imagine he would haaaaate glitter.

Clay - studied hard at math to set himself apart from his brothers.

John Dory - has not kept track of his age and is in denial when people remind him.

John Dory - met Rhonda when she eats him. He just walks right out the door confused.

Rhonda - you know in Frozen, how Sven really wants to eat Olafs nose the whole movie? Imagine that but Rhonda has picked a particular Troll in the village that she wants to eat but never quite manages it. Maybe like Biggie or Guy Diamond?

BroZone - the five brothers eggs all came from their father; General Sequoia. He was a 'military' man so wasn't at home much. He had so many children because he didn't want them to be alone, he wanted them to have each other. (Bodyguard to Poppy's mother?)

Sugar Gals - SPICE GIRLS TROLLS! I absolutely can picture young JD being so frustrated if BroZone was overtaken on the charts by a rival group

Teenage Trolls - wear eachothers hug time bracelets when they're dating. Like wearing their boyfriend's school pin or their jacket.

Crimp - goes to work for King Gristle and Queen Bridget after TBT.

Grandma Rosiepuff - taken for the Bergen Queens last meal before she died.

Brandy - has swaddled Bruce before. By accident or on purpose, she will never tell.

#trolls movie #trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls floyd #trolls clay #trolls john dory #trolls bruce #trolls brozone #brozone

[lewkwoodnco]

Hii I wanted to request Anthony Lockwood×fem!reader with the song "How you get the girl." With them being friends and her being there when he opened the agency. All of them are on a case, and she almost gets ghost touched, so the drive home is very intense, then Lockwood gets mad at her for being reckless, she doesn't want to argue with him so she just goes to sleep crying, the next week Lockwood avoids her, and he sees a nightmare about her dying, so he pushes her even further away. She thinks that he is in love with Lucy because he is avoiding her and spending more time with Lucy. So she leaves the agency, and Anthony doesn't stop her because he thinks he is doing the right thing for her. Lucy and George miss the reader because they're very good friends, so they persuade Lockwood to tell the reader how he feels and bring her back, but Lockwood doesn't listen because he thinks it's for the better. Meanwhile, the reader gets very depressed because she misses them. After months of missing them, she can't do it anymore and tries to drown herself, but Lucy and George find her, so she gets angry at them and leaves. Lucy and George tell everything to Lockwood, who can't do it anymore. So he goes to the reader's house to confess and get her back.

How You Get the Girl - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: wooooo I’ve taken a long break from angst and this fic scratched all my itches hheheheh and in honour of 1989 TV!!! TW brief suicidal mentions but I try not to go into much detail, and goodnight god I need to sleeeeep wc: 4.8k

The four of them were in a cemetery, tasked to tackle three confirmed Lurkers. They were grateful it wasn't more, what with only half of them having decent Sight, but she was starting to feel bored, prodding the pebbles in the soil like some makeshift game, penned inside her iron chains near the gate. Lucy was also inside a different set of chains, but hers was inside the cemetery, where all the action was, and where she could somewhat help to look for the Sources. She had been more than ready to be the one standing nearer to the gate, but she was better at scaling walls so it was only logical to have her be the one inside in case...in case something went wrong with the gate.

Still, if George's yelling was any indication, they'd just found the second source, so it wouldn't be much longer now. They'd find the last source, pack up, and leave this dimly lit place which made her stomach churn.

"Where's the last one? I don't -" Lucy's scream tore into the night sky, cutting Lockwood off. She nearly fell over her rapier as she stumbled to her feet, hands growing clammy as she squinted through the cemetery's fog. She had never heard Lucy scream, let alone one filled with so much terror. Her mouth felt like rubber as she listened for something, anything, but was deafened by her heart pounding in her ears. Nothing. It was eerily quiet, as if none of them were there. She called out to her friends. Still nothing. She tried not to think about the last time Lockwood had been this quiet on a case. Turns out, he wasn't quite as chatty when bleeding out from a gunshot wound. Something similar must have happened now. His knees were probably buckling under himself right now, exhaling his last breath, as she stayed behind her chains like a coward. She heard a forlorn whisper - her own, even though she didn't register herself speaking.

"Lockwood. Lockwood?"

He was dead. She didn't know why, or how, but in that moment she knew for a fact that he was dead, or dying, and no one could bear to tell her. Sod the chains.

She tentatively stepped out of the circle, swallowing as her nausea increased tenfold. The crunch of the gravel beneath her boots seemed too loud for a night as quiet as this. The silence emanating solidified with every step she took, until the absence began to feel like something tangible. Her thoughts were running ahead of her, taunting her, preparing her for the worst sight imaginable. George with his head smashed upon? Lucy with her throat slashed? Lockwood, impaled on his own rapier?

She felt a prickling at the back of her neck, the kind that comes when a Visitor is too close. She lashed behind herself clumsily, rapier suddenly as bulky and unfamiliar as it was years back. She’d been in far more life-threatening situations, and yet now was the time she chose to have all her skills fly out of the window.

She felt a harsh jerk at her left elbow, and for the second time that night, she had an unpleasant swooping sensation of uncertainty twist her stomach. Fire spluttered inches from her face and she flinched, bumping into Lockwood, whose fingers had slipped from the crook of her elbow to her wrist. He looked around wildly, pulling his rapier back defensively, before she heard an unpleasant screech as her ears popped. Panic seeped out of her as she readjusted to the real world, becoming increasingly aware of his grip on her pulse. His hair was messed up and the side of his face glittered with soot, but he seemed too busy struggling with something himself to speak. He looked just as disconcerted as she felt, but the longer he observed her with trepidation in his eyes, she felt that it had more to do with her than the Lurkers.

“They...found the source?” She asked breathlessly, anything to break the silence.

“...yes.” He bit out, and she was thrown off by the venom in his voice. There was something different about him, something surlier. George gave a shout from behind and Lockwood snapped out of it, letting go of her wrist and moving away. By the time her wits had sufficiently returned, he was already finishing up some paperwork and George and Lucy had just finished loading their supplies into the cab. She tried to catch Lockwood's eye as he walked towards them, but he seemed to be aggressively avoiding her gaze. The crushing feeling was back. The cab ride was no less easy.

“Were you ghost-locked?” Lucy had picked up that something was off and she had the foresight to sit up front with the driver, while George was stuck between them. Lockwood, being Lockwood, wasn't about to wait until they reached home to start on her.

“No.” Couldn’t even see the bloody thing, she wanted to add, but she felt it wouldn’t help her case.

“Drawn out by the visitor?”

“No.” She felt the hot prick of shameful tears behind her eyes as she cradled her forehead. What had gotten into her? She had been embarrassingly paralysed for no good reason, rapier slack in her hand like an amateur trainee who couldn’t tell one end from the other.

“You of all people should know to stay within the chains. You know how little you can see. This isn’t your first Lurker - “

“I heard noises, and some screaming, and then it was dead quiet. I thought something terrible had happened.”

"What screaming?" It was harder for Lucy to follow the conversation from the front, but she still tried earnestly.

Her response died at her lips as she caught George's equally confused glance. The realisation dawned on her unpleasantly. Of course no one knew what she was talking about. There was no screaming. She should have known better, she did know better: Lurkers were notorious for causing visual and auditory hallucinations. Lockwood didn't wait for an answer, and pressed on heatedly.

“Even if she had screamed, your first instinct is to abandon your only form of protection? You’re not a newbie, L/N. So why I am I having to spell this out for you?”

“Spell what out for me?” It was a little more vicious than what the rest were accustomed to seeing, especially since very little of Lockwood riled her up this much after working with him for so long. But he hadn’t referred to her by her surname for years, and it stung.

“You could have died! You nearly did die. Never, have I ever seen a disregard for personal safety so deplorable. Really, what were you thinking?”

She rests her head against the cold window, the rattling a welcome relief to her pounding head, her exhaustion finally catching up to her, her words like loose marbles on her tongue. “I…I don’t know. I wasn’t- I was just…I wasn’t thinking.”

“Clearly.”

As far as misunderstandings went, theirs never went this far. Lockwood was an open book to her, and where he was stubborn she was even-tempered enough to knock some sense into him before things escalated this far. But this was new territory. She had never seen him this angry before and certainly never towards her, and she was too weak to shoulder his anger bravely. She could see the irritation behind the tension in his shoulders as he stabbed his rapier into their rapier stand near the front door, and felt her heart fold within itself even more. He jerked towards her like there was something he wanted to stay. A million words and feelings raced across his face. She opened her mouth, willing her fatigued mind to say something to patch the rift.

“I’m sorry.” She held her breath. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

Any other day, he would have sighed, maybe held off for a second or two, before pulling her into a half hug or ruffling her hair, and dragging her to the kitchen. Because where Lockwood was smooth and charismatic, she was clunky with words and sometimes she couldn’t find the right ones. But with Lockwood, she didn’t need to. He would take one look in her eyes and pluck the thought out with devastating grace. It was her and Lockwood, Lockwood and her, forever scampering to each other’s rooms across the hallway to tell the other about their latest inane thought, until George yelled at them to quit it.

But today was not any other day.

“If you pull a stunt like this again…I don’t know if I could trust you enough to stay safe on cases.”

Her voice was an ugly croak. “…what?”

“Y/N…I cannot, in good conscience, entertain or enable you in this-this suicidal-“

“Lockwood, it was an accident. You know that, right?”

“That’s besides the-“

“You can’t possibly think I did this on purpose!”

“I don’t know.”

His eyes dropped, and she felt tears stinging her eyes again. “You...don’t...know.” She echoed him distantly, turning over each syllable on her tongue carefully, voice as hollow as his. “You don’t know…what? You don’t know…me?”

Flashes of the life they built together ran through her mind. Patiently dusting the frames that cluttered the walls. Broaching the idea of starting an agency. Standing hours in line at DEPRAC to register said agency. Going to Arif’s for the first time. Weeks of singed hair and smoky air as they relentlessly shortlisted the most cost-effective suppliers for their kits. Getting over her first breakup and watching him laugh as she swore off dating forever. Cycling indoors on a rainy afternoon just for the hell of it, while George nagged at them incessantly. Buying a cake the day their paperwork was approved and it being smeared on DEPRAC’s certificate within a minute of it being cut. Getting yelled at by Barnes for the first time. Getting injured for the first time and having him excessively fuss over the cut. Arguing about their noses while waiting for their cab in the cold after a case (he insists they’re the same, and she disagrees, partly because she isn’t sure if she could handle knowing that). Framing their first (less than complimentary) news article. Him putting the kettle on in the mornings so that it’s just the right temperature by the time she comes down to the kitchen.

Somewhere along the line, she became acutely aware that the glow she felt watching him nibble at toast in bright spirits after a long case wasn’t completely normal, but then she forgot, because it didn’t matter at the time. But now it felt like it should.

He swallowed with a resolute set to his jaw that told her he wasn’t going to change his mind anytime soon. She felt a tremor run through her hand, a sudden urge to reach out and clench the lapels of his coat, to hold on to the misty silhouette of a friend who was quickly dissolving into thin air.

And then he was gone, and she was alone, and the rift deepened and gaped its visceral jaws in front of her, threatening to swallow her whole. She numbly got dressed for bed, forgetting about the slice on her forearm until she dragged it across her sheets. It smarted, but there was a comfort in the irritation and rawness.

That night, she dreamt of bicycles rolling along on hardwood floors, the shadows the library fire cast in the grooves of Lockwood's face, and rough walls she couldn't scale. She didn't know when she started to cry.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So we all slept like shit. Good to know."

George walked into an uncharacteristically silent kitchen. Lucy was glumly stirring her tea, Lockwood favoured the newspaper over breakfast that morning, and she had a plate of buttered toast in front of her that she kept forgetting about. "At least the two of you had the chains for, er, most of it."

"Please. It was just as bad inside the chains. I kept hearing my teammates die over, and over, and..." She covered Lucy's hand with one of her own, gently removing her spoon.

Breakfast was a sorry affair, and the rest of the week didn't fare much better either, and things reached a breaking point on Sunday. Lockwood shut himself up in the library to get their files and invoices straightened out. There we go, another first: first morning they didn't speak a word to each other. Lucy was busy with rapier practice and George went off to the Archives, so she decided to head out for some fresh air. She came home around lunchtime. George wasn't back yet, but she couldn't hear the jets going off in the basement. She crept upstairs, her stomach twisting at the sight in Lockwood's room.

He was seated on his bed, concerningly pale, talking to Lucy in a low voice. The scene looked so intimate she felt like an intruder just watching them. She tapped on his door, and their heads jumped apart.

"Everything okay?" She tried to keep her tone light, but Lucy's grave face and Lockwood still pointedly looking away didn't help. Lucy gave him a not-so-subtle kick and he grimaced. Her face fell.

"Sorry, I...didn't mean to intrude."

"No, no, it was nothing. We were just talking about yesterday's case. Right, Lockwood?"

"I'll just go -"

"Luce, mind helping me pack the chains?" He held out a duffel bag. The duffel bag he always gave her, not Lucy, to pack the chains. To her credit, Lucy didn't seem much happier than her either, and she snatches the bag from him in a huff. As Lucy walks away, she wonders what it must be like to be loved by Anthony Lockwood. He stands up and starts to shift around his room, fiddling with odds and ends; but curiously, he hasn't asked her to leave.

"I can't - " Her words failed her, but she gritted her teeth and forced them out anyway, the hard edge in her voice giving way to a weak whisper. "I can't stand this. You can't keep freezing me out."

"I don't know what you're talking about. What I do know is that we have a job at 135 Manilla Street and if you don't feel up for it..."

She didn't finish his sentence. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. She wasn't going to play into his emotionally manipulative hands like putty. Lucy awkwardly walked out of the room.

"...maybe you shouldn't come."

For the first time in nearly 18 hours, he finally looked at her, but nothing could have prepared her for the contempt he held.

"Don't be ridiculous." "Of course I'm coming."

"Actually, I was just discussing this with Lu-" A heavy boot chucked from the attic narrowly missed Lockwood's head. "I came to the decision, after talking with Luce, that maybe it's best you don't come tonight. I don't want a repeat of yesterday."

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, because I'm coming. This is my job." Lockwood didn't seem to appreciate that in the same way she did. She was distantly aware of George calling out into the house, and Lockwood slammed the stack of books he was gathering onto his desk in response. Anger seemed to be the only emotion he could express after last night.

"Why can't you just listen for once? Why must you always be so...so difficult?"

"I'm not some possession for you to do with as you please! You yell at me, ignore me, scorn me, now lock me up just because you've decided you don't want to look at me?"

"Enough." There was a warning hidden in the tone of his voice as he started to close his door, but she wasn't done. Some fragmented fracture of Lockwood still cared about her, cared about his awful behaviour, and by God was she going to shake that out of him.

"What do I care? Keeping secrets behind locked doors is all you're good at anyway."

He froze just as the door was a fraction of an inch away from closing, a deadly quiet settling over the house. Even the rustling in the kitchen stopped.

“Look, I didn’t want to have to this.” Oh, he’s most definitely seeing red now. “But I am your employer, Miss L/N, and it is for me to decide which cases you do or do not go for.”

"So...this is just what we're going to do for the next...forever? I'll never go on a case again just because you have some weird problem with it? I'll just -" She let out a harsh bark of laughter, suddenly manic with panic. "I'll just leave then, shall I? Get out of your hair, for good?"

"I didn't say that."

“Don’t. Don’t. Don’t do this, Lockwood.” Her breath was coming in embarrassingly agitated now. Was the air thinning? Her head was spinning like she might pass out. She pushed against the door with ore force than she needed, meeting surprisingly little resistance. He was standing woodenly, eyes unseeing, and yet she felt that was the most honest he had been since the previous night. She looks at him, and for the first time, she wonders what he’s thinking about.

"Fine. Be like that, then." She wants to reach out, beg him to want her to stay, but instead she pulls herself away. She opens drawers and cabinets and pours clothes and misery into her worn suitcase. Lucy stands hopelessly in the doorway and George is whispering something furious to Lockwood, who just watches her stonily. A part of her feels stupid, as stupid as the night before, like she had lost some race in taking this long to realise she was hoping, praying, waiting for nothing. As she leaves, George searches her face and pats her shoulder awkwardly. When she reaches the front door, a movement in the shadows makes her jump.

"He's just being an arse. You know that. Just wait a few days. Please.”

Lucy. Sweet Lucy. Sweet, well-meaning Lucy who was better than the lot of them. She was going to miss her the most. She told her as much, but Lucy didn’t seem amused.

“You don't have to leave." She pulled Lucy into a hug, keeping her bitterness barely at bay.

"Oh, Luce. What else can I do?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She lives in a cold, cramped flat at the edge of civilisation, away from anyone's eyes. Away from Lockwood's cold, dead eyes. Some days she reads the paper, and every time she tries to force herself to read it as Lockwood would. She stays in the bed for the first week, but her savings are only so little, and eventually she starts working again. Too frail to set out as an independent agent, she signs on part-time with Fittes. She doesn't bother to get to know her teammates. Kipps is unexpectedly kind to her in ways he would rather die than acknowledge. She doesn't stick around long enough to get checked up by their medics after cases.

She returns to her dimly lit cavern and clumsily bandages her cut alone with none of his attention to detail. She drags her palm weakly across her eyes and tries to remember her friends' faces. Did Lucy's bob end at her chin, or her clavicles? How big were the lenses of George's glasses? Lockwood is a mist that colours her new life. Turns out, life is a lot more depressing without George's propensity for intellectual name-calling and Lucy's aggressively positive spirit. Sometimes she catches herself taking her tea the way Lockwood does, and she wonders where Lockwood ends and where she begins.

She goes to sleep wishing she had never met him, and wakes up with a million things to tell him. She sees the occasional silhouette wandering the street as she draws her curtains and lets her heart pretend it's him. She fumbles with her love for him, not knowing where, or how, to put it down. Day in and day out, her yearning threatens to consume her entirely.

One night, after a case at a bridge over the Thames, she runs into George and Lucy, and it's the most alive she's ever felt since she left. They want to hear about her but she brushes it off immediately: she wants to hear everything and anything about 35 Portland Row and its inhabitants.

"He's bloody awful lately. He's too quiet, and he keeps staring out of windows like he's waiting for something, even at night. George had to knock him out with cough syrup to stop him from coming tonight; he's wasting away. Of course, George occasionally forces some food down his throat and wrestles him into his bed every once in a while, but..." Lucy worries her bottom lip and she feels her stomach sink. "I don't know how much longer this can last."

"I keep telling him to reach out to you -"

"Reach out to me? Do you know where I live?"

George exchanges a look with Lucy. "Well, not exactly, but it took Lockwood all but half a day to find out. Not that he'll tell us. Coherent speech is...it's becoming a bit of a struggle for him. Either way, I have no idea what's keeping him from apologising when he's clearly so cut up about it."

After they leave, she replays the conversation in her head while waiting to be dismissed, trying to extract as much meaning as she could from their words. She thinks about the dark apartment waiting for her. An empty flat. An empty life. Before she realises, she's neck deep in the Thames, a step away from walking off the sea bed. Freedom from this pain, from these shackles which bound her to earthly woes, was deliciously close. She closes her eyes and takes the final step, water rushing in to dull her hyperactive senses.

But the peace didn't last long. Suddenly, she felt hands hauling her out of her cool sanctuary, and desperate panting coupled with water splashing. The water in her lungs hurt and she felt like a sack of potatoes. After much painful gagging and coughing, she gathered her wits. Lucy was apprehensively leaning over her, and she could hear George agitatedly pacing and muttering behind them.

"I thought you looked weird. Your eyes were too bright."

"...dead man walking. I'm gonna kill him. I'm gonna rip his throat out..."

"Come home with us, Y/N. Just for tonight. Please."

She looks at Lucy, suddenly furious at her for interfering. What did she know? This wasn't some small tiff where she and Lockwood could just hug and make up. She was better off without them. She dodges Lucy's concern and outstretched hand, shakily rising to her feet.

"If it was as simple as coming home, believe me - I would have returned a long time ago."

"Y/N..."

"I don't need you looking after me! I'm fine alone. Just go home, Lucy." Shame was beginning to fester inside of her. "Just go home."

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Hell is beating at her windows when she wakes up. The rain comes down hard and fast in sheets, and for the first time, she feels grateful to have this roof, however old, over her head. She curls up at her window with a large cup of coffee, watching the heavens rage.

Suddenly, her head jerks towards the front door. She listens carefully for a moment, but only hears the wind howling through some hidden draft. And yet, her feet are walking her towards the door. She feels it in her bones the way she hasn't felt it since that fateful night months back. Something new is waiting for her.

She opens the door to a drenched man with his fist poised, ready to knock. It takes her a few blinks to reconcile the image of the man in front of her with the Lockwood she now only hazily remembered. They hadn't been exaggerating; he really did look awful. His skin was dull and stretched grotesquely over his bones, and his eyes look positively bruised. He was aggressively shivering in the rain, no umbrella in sight. She instinctively stepped back and he gratefully entered, rubbing his hands together for some warmth.

"Are you insane? What are you doing here?"

"I know what happened last night."

She subconsciously withdrew within herself. "George told you?"

"Lucy, actually. George and I haven't been on the best of terms lately, but, as of now, he's stopped speaking to me entirely."

"Ah." A small part of her flickered sympathetically. She remembered how much George meant to Lockwood, and vice versa, but the memory felt so unused, as if it were from a different life.

If he notices how dismal her flat is, he doesn't let on. In fact, he only seems interested in looking at her, drinking her in like a man starved. She allows it, but only for a while, and only because it's too big of a relief to have him standing here, larger than life, right in front of her. Starving, yes; sleep-deprived, yes; but very much alive.

"Come now, Y/N. Don't look at me like that."

"It's been a very long six months. I'll look at you however I want."

He sighs and shifts her chair closer to her and, as if inspired by some sudden bout of insanity, takes her hand, but doesn't seem to know exactly what to do with it.

"Lucy and George have been yelling at me to tell you the truth for ages now, but...I was too afraid. I was a coward. But after my earful from George last night...I realised you were just as scared as I was. Probably even more, all alone. And I'm trying to find it in me to be brave enough for the both of us." She listens cautiously, too burnt to fully believe.

He laces his fingers into her own, and brings it up to his face tenderly. "Remember how it used to be? Me and you, you and me. Just the two of us against the rest of the world." He fiddles with his pocket, and she hears a crinkling of brittle newspaper. It's their first picture in the papers. George, with significantly fewer wrinkles, is standing off to one side. Lockwood is trying and failing to look professional, which probably has to do with the way she's thrown her arms around his neck and is pressing a half-kiss to his cheekbone. She couldn't help it; she was just so proud of him. That's the photo to gets her to smile for the first time in months.

His own smile wobbles as he watches her, then slides off entirely, leaving behind an Anthony Lockwood that looks much older than his years.

"I don't know what I was thinking that day. I had a really bad string of nightmares that week where...where your lips would be blue and your pulse long gone by the time I reached. It was such a close shave, I can't help but think..." She wants to reach out and smooth the crease in his brow. "What if I were a second late?"

"But you weren't. Isn't that all that matters?"

A glimmer of a smile skimmed his face. "Yeah, well, Lucy told me as much."

"Smart girl."

"But I didn't listen. I tried - god, I tried - but I couldn't. I thought you would be safer without me. So when you started saying you'd leave, this awful seed was planted in my head, and I was angry, but also madly in love with you, and I didn't know how to say any of it."

A tear falls on their joined hands. "That evening really messed me up, Lockwood. It screwed with my head big time."

"I know." There was a rush in his voice that mirrored the same kind of rush that had flitted through her body for the past six months. "And I don't expect you to ever forgive me. I'll spend the rest of my life fixing the damage I've done. But...but...if somewhere down the road...you find it in your big heart to forgive me and my sins...I might just love you. No more secrets or locked doors; I'm done with them. Y/N L/N, I'm ready to love you wildly and freely."

First time she didn't absolutely hate him saying her last name.

#fanfiction #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood and co #fanfic #anthony lockwood imagine #lockwood and co netflix #lockwood x y/n #taylor swift #1989 taylor's version #1989 tv #taylor swift 1989 #how you get the girl #hygtg #requested

[nnight-dances]

...BABY ONE MORE TIME.

pairings: kwon soonyoung x fem!reader tropes: established relationship, drunk soonyoung!!!, teasing, banter, jealousy but it's lighthearted, skinship, some sexual content but not too explicit, idiots in love :] what to expect: There's only one thing you love more than your boyfriend, Kwon Soonyoung. And that was teasing him until you got on his nerves when he's drunk out of his mind. You can't be blamed though, can you? The result is always priceless.

“Baby, is that you?” you call out, stepping outside the bathroom and squint as you struggle to see in the darkness of the bedroom. “Soonyoung?” you ask again.

You’re a second away from freaking yourself out into thinking you’d imagined the voice calling out your name, when a squeak surprises you. There’s rustling and slowly a tall figure rises in the dark. Well, it would’ve been a tall figure if your idiot-shaped boyfriend hadn’t instantly tripped over the carpet in front of the bed where he’d been calling out your name in agony.

You laugh out just as soon as you reach out to switch the lights back on, to finally set your eyes on Soonyoung’s writhing body on the beige carpet. “Babe, they’re attacking me!” he sniffles, tears shining in his eyes. 

Instantly, you’re on your knees and cooing, “Oh, my baby, what happened?” You capture his face in your palms, thumbing away the slight sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. “Who attacked you, huh? Tell me and I’ll bring out the guns!”

For a moment, your boyfriend’s taken aback at your declaration, genuinely sputtering, “You- You have guns?”

You grin cheekily, pulling away to flex your biceps, not caring how stupid you must look posing in the oversized jumper Soonyoung had thrown over you as soon as you’d let slip that it was getting a little too chilly for your liking. “Yeah, ‘m talking about these bad boys.”

Soonyoung looks away with an entertained laugh, propping himself up as he throws you his best heart eyes, “Ahhh, you’re so good to me :( I really don’t deserve you!”

“But you do,” you stop him, palms reclaiming their place on his cheeks and his lips are gathered into a pout in no time. “Anyways, tell me which one of those rascals bothered you this time?”

And by those ‘rascals’ you were referring to the crowd of friends you’d accompanied on a beach trip to celebrate Wonwoo’s birthday, enjoying what felt like the last days of your summer break getting wasted together. So far, it’d been everything you’d needed: light-hearted teasing, lots of drinks, good music and shameless dancing, and now, a clingy Soonyoung. 

Although you probably wouldn’t admit it to him out loud (fearing what he’d do with the information), you love your boyfriend when he’s drunk. Contrary to what Mingyu tells Soonyoung the next morning, you love taking care of him and indulging in his drunken antics. As if a sober Soonyoung wasn’t silly enough for you, the sight of him perched on his knees, diligently confiding in you every single hurtful thing he’s been the victim of– it just made you all soft inside. 

“Gosh, that’s terrible, Soonyoung,” you mumble, brushing a hand through his strands with a hum. He stops mid sentence, mouth twitching and you can almost see the inner conflict he goes through. 

Fine, you’ll admit it, it wasn’t just the taking-care-of-him part that you enjoyed so much. It was also… the teasing. You couldn’t help yourself, honestly, because the sober Soonyoung would probably find a way to up the stakes and get your own ego involved but this inebriated version of him? He was trying so hard to not fall right into trap. 

“Babe, what the fuck.” 

You: 1. Soonyoung: 0.

“Hmm? What the fuck what?” you question innocently, swallowing a giggle. 

“You’re being mean. Again,” his voice cracks a little as he mumbles out the last word and you have to sturdy yourself against the sight of his eyes falling down to his hands. 

But you know better. You’ve been dating Soonyoung for long enough to know he’s been working on mastering the games you play with him. And for a moment, you’re lightheaded, realizing you’re not very sober yourself either but as the sounds of your friends partying outside seeps into the privacy of your shared bedroom, you smirk. 

“Soonyoung, you’re gonna have to do better than that. Explain yourself for me.” In stark contrast to the cold way you’re calling out his full first name is the soft comfort of your tone, all mellow and honeyed. 

His pout is back as he whines, “I’m not that. I’m,” his voice is clipped as he breaks eye contact again, cheeks flushing, “I don’t like it when you call me Soonyoung. At all.”

You breathe out, almost giddy because goddamnit, this man is precious. “Oh, really? And why is that?”

Soonyoung looks back up at you, finally showing you those eyes of his, ears now turning pink. And it’s like the talking stage of your relationship all over again, when Soonyoung would freeze up adorably when you’d peck him on the cheek out of the blue or when he’d sneakily reached out to hold your hand under the covers. Even now, he’s that same shy guy as his fingers find your hand, intertwining them and watching as you let him carefully. 

“Because. I love you. And if we’re dating, the rule is to use nicknames,” when Soonyoung shifts closer to you, you have a moment to wonder if he’s really as drunk as he’s letting on because the spark in his eyes is so intense, “Right, my love?”

Fuck, now you’re flustered. You bite your lip and rack your brain to think of what you could say to that, only to be rudely interrupted by Soonyoung’s arms around you, pulling you into a hug. 

“Soonie?” The name leaves your tongue out of pure habit and you don’t even comprehend you’ve said it until Soonyoung vibrates with a delighted chuckle against you. You feel his lips against your ear, “I love you so much, babe.”

Okay, so maybe he was that drunk, because you’d been half-expecting him to declare that he’d won this self-imagined battle of the wits. But he simply melts into yours arms, pressing loving kisses against your side with you growing redder every passing moment. Helplessly, you press your hands into his back, relishing his warmth. 

You’re about to bring up cuddling as your next plan of action when you see a head pop up behind the door to your room. Seungcheol lets out a loud groan when he spots you tangled around Soonyoung’s limbs, his lips still moving against you despite the intrusion. 

“Fuck you guys for real! Here I was, worrying after you! I thought one of you had slipped and drowned in the ocean while the other was here grieving.” 

“Please tell me you at least suspected Soonie as the one who would be drunk enough to drown?” 

Soonyoung pulls away from you with a gasp, “Y/N!!!!! HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT? I’M YOUR ONLY BOYFRIEND?!!”

His shock only greatens when you join Seungcheol in his amused laughter and soon, he’s standing up (albeit not before he bumps his head against the bed above you). You follow suit quickly, arm around him to steady him, “Soonie, you know I was just–”

“Get your hands off me :( I don’t want to talk to you! Ever!” Your heart lurches a little because he sounds genuinely upset but then you catch a glimpse of the playful pout on his face and you meet Seungcheol’s gaze with a knowing grin. 

“I fear you’ve gone too far this time, comrade,” he remarks with an inappropriate amount of gravity. 

“What punishment do you reckon awaits me?” you cross your arms. Seungcheol hums as if deep in thought and then, “You’re lucky if he lets you talk him into going to bed with you tonight.”

You roll your eyes as you approach the door, fingers brushing the lights back off with a click. 

“You underestimate me.” 

The two you trudge through the sand, with you facing some difficulty thanks to your flimsy sandals and shaky vision. “You’re drunk too, aren’t you?” 

You hate that you can hear the fatherly disappointment in Seungcheol’s voice so you protest, “That’s an unreasonable accusation.” 

“...That’s not what I was asking you.” The rest of your friend group comes into sight now and you’re surprised how fast Soonyoung managed to get away from you. 

“I’m fine,” And then when your eyes land on your boyfriend, you’re quick to add, “At least I’m nowhere as drunk as him.” Seungcheol chuckles and if he makes any further comments, you don’t hear him because your eyes are fixed on the figure of Soonyoung wrapped around Dokyeom like his life depended on it. 

He’d been happily swinging around to the music, a pleased grin plastered to his face until he notices you approaching. Immediately he’s pulling Dokyeom closer, who lets out a terrified groan but protectively steadies the man with a hand on his back. There’s a few other people dancing, with Mingyu pulling an unwilling Wonwoo into an embrace, and a giggly Jeonghan who screams at Seungcheol to hurry up and join them. Sakura is dancing alone while a very red Yunjin watches with a tired smile. You can vaguely make out Jun and Chan crouched near the speakers, possibly fiddling with the playlist that was on. 

Quietly, you join Joshua on the hammock facing the gathered dancing. He shifts to give you some space as he lets out a chuckle, “You have a fight with Soonie? He came in here all pouting and then started clinging to Dokyeom like that. We had to make sure he hadn’t confused Dokyeom with you.”

You laugh, “Not a fight. But I may have teased him a little.”

Joshua lets out a grunt, “God, you’re incorrigible. You never learn, do you?”

Your smile only widens as an idea pops into your head, all while you’re watching your boyfriend lovingly dote on Dokyeom, who he’s feeding a slice of pizza. “How can I, when he’s this fun to mess with? Plus, I don’t get the same reactions out of him when he’s sober.”

“You’re a scary one, man.” Joshua prepares to zone out, probably thinking that’d be the end of your conversation but he frowns when he feels your hand at his elbow. He looks up at you, only to find a spine-chilling evil grin on your face (one that is reminiscent of Soonyoung himself, particularly when he’s accusing Mingyu of being the mafia).

“C’mon, Shua, let’s go dance.”

Joshua groans, “No way! I don’t want to be on Soonyoung’s hit list because I laid a hand on you.” 

“Don’t worry, think of this as doing a favor to him,” you reassure him as you pull him toward the music, bringing his hand to your waist, “And I laid your hand on me.” 

He mutters out one last string of complaints that gets drowned out in the night and you simply chuckle, finally letting the alcohol catch up to your head a little, senses overwhelmed by the loud music.

It's only been over a minute when Joshua goes, “Oh dear, he’s coming this way.”

You only have a moment’s notice before you feel a warm hand at your wrist, forcing you to rip away from Joshua’s hold. “I’m going to kill you,” Soonyoung trains a scowl on the man, a sight that would be more intimidating if he wasn’t slurring half his words. “And you,” his eyes are back on you, hand on wrist tightening.

You raise an eyebrow, “Hm? What’s that, sweet?” As expected, the term of endearment throws Soonyoung who was clearly expecting more of a fight from you. And to make things worse, just as he opens his mouth to speak again, you hear the opening notes of a familiar song playing in the background.

Both of your faces perk up in recognition, slightly comical from a third person perspective. But between the two of you, there’s pure joy when the song starts playing– a song you’d listened to together on repeat for days before. A song you used to mildly like before Soonyoung came around and added to one of your playlists as a recommendation. One day, it’d started playing as the two of you were attempting to bake tiny cupcakes and massively fucking it up. The tensions had been high and you were starting to feel annoyed but when the bluetooth speaker sitting on the kitchen counter played the song, Soonyoung’s frown dissolved into a toothy smile. 

You still have this song, he’d exclaimed and looked at you with eyes full of so much emotion that you could only nod, not having the heart to explain that you hadn’t really had a chance to listen to it fully yet. But it didn’t matter then: you’d found yourself following Soonyoung when he started dancing around, limbs loose and lame, but grin intact. Soon, you had the lyrics memorized better than your own phone number. 

So yeah, when you hear that song now, you can’t help but throw your arms around Soonyoung, wanting nothing more than to feel his heart beat against yours. His strong arms pull you impossibly closer with a satisfied laugh and your heart soars when you feel him singing the song for you in your ear. 

When he slightly goes off-note on one of the high notes though, you pull away with a giggle, “Babe, I’ve told you to lay off the high notes. You’re gonna hurt your throat.” You place a hand on his neck gently. He swallows against your hold. 

“Oh? So now you care if I hurt my throat?” 

You scoff, “You’re mad at me? You’re the one who was slow-dancing with Seokmin like you were a kiss away from marrying each other.” 

“Hey, that’s unfair,” Soonyoung’s fingers creep up your back and under the fabric of his pullover, “I just wanted to make you pay for what you said earlier about… Well, I can’t remember what you said but it wasn’t very nice.” 

You laugh into his chest, finding his face in your hands for the second time that night. Delicately you place a kiss on each of his cheeks, murmuring, “I’m sorry, my tiger, I was just having some fun.” 

You sense a change in Soonyoung’s shoulders at your words, the nickname working wonders when his lips crash into yours clumsily. Your laugh’s lost in the first kiss of many and you can’t find it in you to complain. At one point, you almost topple over because of how much of his weight Soonyoung’s leaning over you. 

“Why don’t we go have some fun back in the room, babe?” Soonyoung’s gaze has long darkened with a small smile. Before you can respond, his arms are around your torso, pulling you into another open-mouthed kiss. This time you hear a disgusted sound by your side. 

It’s Hansol: “Can you guys please go use a room that has a door that has a lock? Please? I’m begging you.” 

If it wasn’t for you pulling away with an apologetic grunt, Soonyoung would’ve kept at it. Now, he throws Hansol a confusing wink and a, “See you tomorrow,” before he’s suddenly pulling you away with him, no doubt in the direction of your room. 

When you pass by a group seated at the hammock, you throw them a rushed wave, “G’night, guys! We’re gonna get some sleep.” Soonyoung’s pulling you too fast for you to hear their responses too well, but distantly you hear a scoff from Seungkwan, “Ten bucks says you’re doing everything but sleeping.” 

A few minutes later, you’re caged against the mattress, a flushed Soonyoung leaving a trail of wet kisses down your body. You mewl against his lips when he returns, “Fuck.”

“Fuck is right,” Soonyoung mumbles into your neck where you’re awaken with a few hickeys tomorrow. When he presses you into his lap, in efforts to mitigate the distance between you, you let out a string of curses when you feel his hard-on press against your shorts. “Shit, Soonie, you’re so hard for me,” you groan, hands helping him get rid of his shirt. 

“I am,” his voice is small and you chuckle as you push down against the pillows. The last thing Soonyoung sees is you straddling, fingers expertly undoing his pants and boxers in a go. “Let me do something about it, baby.” 

–

The next morning, Soonyoung wakes up with a headache of a lifetime, eyelids heavier than rocks when he hauls them open groggily. Even before he’s properly conscious, he’s reaching out for you with an arm to inspect the bed beside him. Much to his displeasure, he feels nothing but the fabric of the sheets surrounding him. 

With a pout, he blinks his eyes open, groaning against the sunlight in the room. As he looks around with a yawn, he calls out for you, “Y/N, my love? Where are you?”

Thankfully, he hears your voice responding from the bathroom, the door to which was half-open. So, Soonyoung drags his hungover ass out of bed, knocking on the door and entering when he hears you say, “Soonie? You awake?”

It looks like you’re freshly showered, running your fingers through your damp hair and a bunch of your skincare and make-up covering the surface of the sink. “Why’re you awake so early?” he whines, instantly wrapping his arms around your waist, chin coming to sit at your shoulder. 

You giggle when he takes a sniff of you with a pleased, “You smell so good, love. You should’ve woken me up earlier. Could’ve showered with you.”

“As much as I would’ve loved to, you were dead asleep,” You meet his eyes in the mirror, “Also, you and I both know that showering with you is impossible. You either end up slipping and hitting your head on the wall or find a way to fuck me.”

He gasps at your accusations but does nothing to deny them, “Okay, well, not my fault you’re hot.” He squeezes your sides as if in emphasis, effectively tickling you. You push him away through the laughter.

“Stop fooling around, babe,” you scold him with a half-serious scowl and hand him his toothbrush, “Go brush and stuff. I’ll go call the others and let them know you’re coming with me to brunch now.” 

“Excuse me???” he screams after you when you quickly disappear out of sight, “Were you seriously going to let me sleep through brunch????”

He chuckles under his breath when he hears your loud laughs across the room, “No!!! I’d have to resort to starving myself to death until you woke up.” 

“You’re such a liar,” Soonyoung tells you, a while later when the two of you are getting ready in comfortable silence. “You know I remember you dancing with Shua last night?”

You simply beam up at him, slipping your hands around him and he welcomes the scent of you. “Really? You remember trying to get into Seokmin’s pants? And then making out with me in front of all our friends? And then pulling me to our bedroom because you could not wait to–”

“All right, all right!! I remember!” Soonyoung exclaims with an embarrassed chuckle, looking away with a blush dusting his cheeks and you think, maybe he’s not so different sober. Then, he distracts you with those eyes of his when he leans in for a kiss. “I love you, by the way,” he reminds you like it might slip your mind. 

You kiss his nose for good measure, “I love you too, Soonyoung. So much.” 

You’re pulling him out the room with a quick yank before he can complain about your use of his government name and he shakes his head knowingly, promising to get you back later. For now, he just kisses your knuckles because when all’s said and done, he’d do anything for you. 

Even if it meant being cast as the character who’d drown themselves accidentally in a drunken stupor. 

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ ʚ ═══･୨ ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ

author's note:

OKAY SORRY what if i do love drunk hoshi????!!!!!!??? i am unapologetic about how insane i am for him <3 ... anyways, consider this an official declaration that kwon soonyoung is up there in my bias list, rocking it up with jeonghan and mingyu

speaking of which, someone has got to force me to write a jeonghan fic because i wake up everyday itching to write one but idk what possesses me and i simply cannot :((((( yeah, that's the life update. anyway,,,,

see you, friends and foes

#kwon soonyoung x you #kwon soonyoung x reader #kwon soonyoung seventeen #hoshi x reader #hoshi x you #hoshi x y/n #soonyoung x you #soonyoung x y/n #kwon hoshi x you #kwon hoshi x reader #hoshi fluff #hoshi angst #svt angst #hoshi seventeen #seventeen #hoshi #hoshi imagines #svt imagines #svt x you #svt x reader #svt smut #hoshi fic #soonyoung fic #precious boy #seventeen fic #horanghae

[coucouatoi]

we're not who we used to be | h.s.

Pairing: Harry Styles X Reader

Summary: Some letters you've written but never sent to Harry over the years.

Warnings: Angst... so much... there's some fluff, emphasise on the some, there's a hopeful ending tho!

A/N: Sooo this is the childhood friends to strangers fic no one asked for... Hope you all enjoy! This is my writing debut in Harry land :)

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April 10' 2010

To: Harry Styles From: Your first fan

Hiya Harry,

It's currently 11:29 pm about 10 hours away from your audition. I figured since you told me to stop praising you and boosting your ego, I'm writing down the rest of the things I want to say.

Firstly, I know you're going to smash it! All the judges are going to want you in. There's no chance that they won't see how special you are, how you're the next big thing.

I won't let you back out of it last second! Anne, Gemma and I are ready to drag you onto the stage, we've discussed it thoroughly...

Secondly, I'm already so proud of you. This is a huge step, I know how nervous you are about it. How you think that everything is going to go wrong and that you'll fail. I've got enough hope in you for the both of us. I'll stand by your side the whole time and I'll cheer the loudest.

To finish, you're Harry Styles. You can do anything.

Break a leg superstar!!

Cheering you on already,

Your first-ever fan

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

December 12' 2010

To: Harry Styles From: Your biggest fan

Harry!

You've made it all the way to the finals! It's crazy! I knew you could do it but seeing you go further and further has been surreal.

I hope you and the other boys get along well! We haven't had much chance to really gossip about it all, you seem excited with them!

The finale is set to start in about 2 hours and I had to get some emotions out (my mom was tired of hearing them... rude) Anyway! I remembered that I had written you a letter a few months ago and now I'm back in this notebook.

I'm so nervous, excited and kind of nauseous about watching the last episode tonight. I can't even imagine what you're feeling right now... You must be so scared but incredibly jittery!

I'm counting the days until I get to see you again! I want to hear everything that's happened behind the scenes! You know how nosy I am!

I've already taken up two pages so I'll stop for now.

You can do this!

Talk to you soon,

Your favourite person ever

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

March 7' 2011

To: You From: Me <3

You called me Angel today...

I don't know what to make of that.

I had so many butterflies in my stomach.

Could you call me that again?

You're my favourite person,

Angel

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

November 20' 2011

To: Harry From: Angel

Boo!

You finally let me listen to the full album today! Said you had to be there when I listened to it so you could give me all the secrets. You also wanted to see live how I reacted to every song. You're too cute.

"I Want" is my current favourite.

You did tell me that you'd resonated with a lot of the lyrics you sang on this album. That almost scares me.

How did you relate? Who was going through your mind?

You do have the world at your feet now. I shouldn't feel jealous but I do like having you all to myself. Don't worry I'll get used to sharing...

The Up All Night Tour is starting soon! I'm happy that you've invited me to come to some shows. I'll be there no matter if I have to miss school.

I have to show all these newbies that I'm THE biggest Harry Styles fan out there!

Hopefully, you thought about me while signing.

Because I think about you all the time,

Your favourite fan.

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

April 13' 2012

To: Harry From: Angel

G'Day Mate!

So you're officially all the way in Australia now! That's so exciting I wish that you could have stuffed me into your suitcase... sniff

I bet it's super warm there! Or not wait their seasons aren't the same as ours, are they? I'm not even sure...

Hopefully, you can tan a little while you're there! Don't go near any animals or insects!!

I miss you a lot, maybe I'll send this one (spoiler I definitely won't).

Talk to you soon hopefully.

Go swim in the ocean,

Someone who wants to be in it

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

August 29' 2012

To: Harry From: Angel?

You haven't come to see me since you've been back.

Too busy being a celebrity?

I've been seeing all these tabloids... I'm not allowed to be jealous I know but I miss you.

I hope you've missed me.

I really really wish you were here with me or that I was with you wherever you are now.

I just want to be us.

Have you forgotten your friend from the small town already?

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

January 1' 2013

To: Harry From: Someone You've Hurt

I don't know what to think,

You kissed me. It made me happy.

You said it was a New Year's kiss.

You said you drank too much, it hurt.

You ended up kissing someone else about 20 minutes later.

That hurt even more it almost made me feel used.

I'm happy you were my first kiss.

I don't think you'll even remember it,

Y/N

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

November 27' 2014

To: Harry From: Me

I love the new album, took me a while to finally listen to it. I thought you'd come home and make me listen to it in your presence.

You didn't. The first album that I've listened to alone.

Spaces and Fools Gold are my favourite songs. I wonder how many lyrics you resonate with. How many of them did you write?

Come home?

Only for a day please,

Your first Angel

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

October 21' 2015

To: Harry From: Y/N

It's been a while,

It's your mom's birthday today. Well only for a few more hours...

She invited my family and me to the party, and of course we went. I didn't think you'd be there. I haven't seen you in almost a year.

It was fun.

Catching up about everything that's been going on with you and the band. Your life is so much more interesting than mine now.

I'm just a boring college student... you're this huge star but that's ok there's no one like you for me, you're my safe place. No matter how far away.

You asked about my love life and I told you about the date I had a few days ago. You asked if we had sex, I lied and said yes. I didn't want to embarrass myself by telling you no one's ever been with me like that.

We ended up getting drunk. Too drunk.

We fucked.

You took my virginity and you have no idea... should I tell you? You were so good. So gentle, loving but you fucked with a purpose, you needed to get off. I won't ever see your childhood bedroom the same way.

This was only a few hours ago.

I've felt every emotion about it. Now I'm crying because I know you'll find someone new to share a bed with. I'm just a notch in your headboard.

It meant everything to me.

But I think I regret it...

Y/N

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

May 12' 2017

To: You From: Me

Really?

I hope Only Angel isn't about me.

But I'm overanalysing every single song. Is one about me? Did you think of me while making this album?

We haven't talked since the last time we saw each other. When we fucked again. It wasn't even the second time, after your mom's birthday two years ago we never stopped. It's all we do when we see each other.

It doesn't make me feel all that much better but I feel like if it wasn't for that we wouldn't even know each other anymore.

I'm moving away this year. Got a job offer in Canada and I'm taking it.

Maybe I'll get over you... hopefully.

I can't live my whole life waiting for someone who I don't know anymore.

I'm blocking your number.

I miss who we used to be,

Your first-ever fan

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

December 4' 2019

To: H From: Y/N

Hello,

You've crawled your way back into my life, Harry. This morning, you decided to send me your album. Your new one, Fine Line. Your fans haven't even heard it yet. The public hasn't either.

You didn't write a single thing in your email, the mp3 link was staring me down with your automated signature. Not even a greeting.

I shouldn't have listened to it.

I don't know why you sent it to me. We haven't spoken or crossed paths in over a year. Not since I moved and tried to get rid of every way of contact between us.

I still haven't answered, I don't think I will.

You don't get to know what I feel about it. Not anymore.

I'm sorry Harry.

I've moved on,

Y/N

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

December 13' 2019

To: H From: Y/N

Your new album came out today.

I'm proud of you even if we are strangers now.

You're a superstar.

I always knew you would be,

Y/N

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

March 17' 2020

To: H From: Y/N

I saw that you had to postpone your tour.

You must feel so defeated.

I know I do. Everything's been closed and opened and closed again here in Canada. It's getting exhausting.

I hope the world starts working again soon.

This all sucks...

Crossing my fingers for the tour,

Y/N

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

May 18' 2022

To: Harry From: Y/N

Hi,

You sent me the album before the release again.

This time you did say something: I miss you Angel, Can we meet up?

I didn't think I could feel so many butterflies in my stomach. I felt like a teenager again. And I cried more than once listening to Harry's House.

I'm still considering if I should answer... if I do what should I choose? Should I agree and go into the unknown or forget it happened and keep on going with my life?

I miss you too... the one I knew. Not the one who used me. I guess I used you too... How did we get here?

All I want is to be loved and to be in love.

I'm not sure if I'm ready for the hurt this will bring but maybe I should just be a grown-up about this...

I want you back in my life.

That scares me,

Y/N

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

August 16' 2022

To: Harry From: Y/N

Well,

I'm going to the Love On Tour today and after we are going to "meet". We even have until the 20th because that is when your next show is, after today obviously.

You were so excited when I agreed.

It's almost as if no time has passed when we text (he changed his number in the last few years... no need for an embarrassing unblocking).

My friend, the one who convinced me to agree, helped me pick out an outfit. Thankfully for her, I won't stick out like a sore thumb in the crowd of feather boas and cowboy hats.

I really want this to work.

I want to believe that we can be good again. We can be healthy for one another again but I'll be worried until I see you.

Until we speak.

I won't let myself touch you, I have a feeling that it would be far too easy to fall back into a bed. Maybe a hug would be okay.

I'm excited for the show, to see the Superstar Harry Styles in action. After so many years you have to have evolved so much.

You aren't little Harry from Worcestershire anymore.

I'm not the same person I once was either.

See you tonight.

Break a leg,

Y/N

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n

[princedesnuees]

CALL ME MAYBE — gn!reader x jaehyun.

pairing: gn!reader x jaehyun. genre: hurt/comfort, angst, smut. summary: you work as a phone sex operator. naturally, one of your customer wants something a bit specific... warnings: phone sex. words: 1.5k

It is your duty to take care of your customer during the allotted time. This is your job as a phone sex operator, after all. The call time is determined by the amount paid. Some customers just need twenty minutes. Sometimes much more. Maybe all day. Maybe the entire night. You don't mind, you like doing this. What just was for spending time changed into a real full time job. Everybody says you're made for this. And you would be a liar if you say that you're not good at satisfying your phone correspondent.

It's late at night. You've just ended with an old man. The lonely kind, not really interesting, quite sad actually. But you had nice time. At the end, he sounded happy and thanked you before hang up. Mission accomplished.

And now, what?

You don't have time to think. The phone's ringing.

You pick up, comfortably seated in your chair. Usually, it's you who starts the conversation. And you were willing to do so, until a voice rises from the receiver.

"Hi."

As usual, it's a man. You smile against the phone. What a soft, deep voice you hear.

"Hey baby… How you doing?"

"Not really good."

"Oh… Would you like speak about it?"

Other usual part of your job: the therapist side. You are used to listening to your customers complaining about their life, what's going on, what weighs on them. And it's a side of this job you truly like. Get to know someone. Their past, their present. What they went through. Their dreams, their fears. You can imagine every details just by closing your eyes. And in all these stories, all you have to do is listen and comfort them in a very special way.

"My wife left me."

"Baby. I'm sorry…"

"Don't be. I was never there for her."

"How do you feel?"

"In a shitty way."

"Need me to reassure you a little…?"

"Yeah. That's why I phoned you. They say… You're a good listener."

"And I will. Do you mind telling me your name?"

"Call me Jay."

"Jay… What a sweet name."

"I'll pay for one hour. Maybe more."

"Alright, Jay. I'm all yours. What do you need tonight?"

"Someone who can… help me to make the pain go."

"You feel really, really sad about what happened, don't you…"

"Yeah."

You listen closely, and then hear like a sob. Of course, it must be awfully difficult.

"You were together since a long time?"

"Almost five years. I've been… dumb. Y'know. Too much taken by my career. Money, fame, all that stuff. But now… It just doesn't have sense anymore. I realized it too late."

Sadness is blending to his voice.

"Baby… Everything will be okay. Don't blame yourself. You did your best." You whisper on a reassuring tone.

"I even wonder if she cheated on me. No. I know she did."

"Don't think about it. Think about yourself and your well-being. I'm here for you baby. Just ask me something that could bring you joy. Anything I can do."

"It's been a couple of weeks I didn't cum, you know. I can't anymore. That makes me sad when I try with someone else, and I don't like to do it alone. Watching porn doesn't do anything to me. I even feel disgusted."

"Okay, sweetheart. Do you want me to talk, to help you cum?"

"… Yeah. I want."

"Are you sitting comfortably?"

"I'm on the ground of my kitchen."

Oh. That's unusual.

"Everything's okay, baby?…" You want to be sure.

"Yeah. I was… cooking when I started to feel bad. Really bad. My wife used to prepare diner before I got home. It reminded me her, while she was cooking. That's stupid, I know."

"Not, it's not. Jay, don't think your feeling are stupids. They are important, and so you are."

"Maybe."

"Would you like to stay here?"

"Yeah. Don't want to go upstairs. It's okay. The tiles are warm now."

And then, you hear a soft laugh. Really, really soft. Almost inaudible. But that makes you smile.

"Fine, Jay. Let's start. Remember, this is your moment. You can ask me whatever you want or need."

"Okay."

"Relax yourself, baby… I'm here. I'm with you. Imagine me, standing by your side. You're not alone. I can hug you if you want. Do you?"

"Yeah."

"I'm here, my arms around your waist… You can put your head on my shoulder, close your eyes…" At this moment, your voice was akin to that of a mother soothing her child. A gentle, nurturing voice, one in which everyone would like to take refuge. This is the way you do. Comforting your visitor the time they come to you. "There… How do you feel, baby?"

A long silence responds. But you're not worried. Some people need this time. Time that life didn't grant them. And you were right. A few seconds later, his voice arises.

"I… feel good…"

"Can you feel my hand on your hips, right now? Can you… feel… my warmth enveloping you?"

"Hmm…"

You listen, carefully. Each sound is an important hint of your customer's mood.

"Jay… I'm sure… you have… a wonderful body… Don't you? Because I can sense it just by touching you."

"Touch me more."

"Where do you want me to touch, baby?"

"Go under my shirt."

"Alright. I'm here, right now… Do you feel it? My hand on your body… It's warm, Jay…"

"Yeah… Warm."

"Can I go on your thighs? I promise, I'm not heavy… And… this will be… more pleasant."

"Go on."

"Aah… It's been… a while since… I went over a man like you…"

"Hmm…"

You hear him moaning, proof that he begins to feel really relaxed. Perfect.

"You know… Since I am all yours… Would you like to… try something with me?"

"Yeah."

"Can we put off this belt? Let me do it for you… There…"

His breath is heavier. You don't have intention to stop.

"Hey, Jay… Don't you feel… too tight…?"

"I… I'm… I try to… caressing… myself…"

"That's good… Do it at your pace, baby, okay?… What are you thinking about…?"

"You. Your pelvis… against mine…"

"Hmm… This is exactly… what I do… Can you feel me… rubbing gently on you…?"

"Yeah. I… fucking feel it."

Your smile is wider. Maybe you've started to caress yourself, too.

"Jay… Is that a big, generous and warm cock I can feel beneath these pants…?"

"Fuck…"

"Yeah, that is. Oh my god… It's harder and harder… Hmm…"

"Touch it."

"It's been a while you didn't use your pretty cock, Jay… But don't worry because… Tonight… This will change. And I can assure you… That you're well-endowed. To be honest, I've rarely seen a beautiful cock like yours during a while."

"Shit, this is… Aaah… Take it in your hand."

"And I'm doing, baby. There… Just under your underwear… There it is… Hello, beautiful one…"

You can imagine the size wobbling in your little hand.

"Look, I can't even take it in one hand… And you're not this hard yet… Jesus…"

"P-put your goddamn…"

"Hmm ? My…"

"You're goddamn lips."

"Baby… You want me to suck your big dick?"

"Fucking do it."

"There I am… My lips all over your tip… Like this… Hmm… Your… delicious… huge… cock…"

He's moaning louder each second. This is astonishing how his voice can be this deep. You've never heard this kind of tone before, this is arousing you in your chair. Thighs closed, you're trembling like a leaf.

"Jay… I'm gonna… swallow it… entirely… Is that okay for you, baby?…"

"Don't ask: go for it. Eat it. Make it disappear inside your little mouth."

"I'm coming, baby. Let yourself go, I'm going to devour your lovely cock. My tongue wrapped around your pretty veins… Do you see me? Going up and down… Tongue lapping your dick, like a thirsty bitch… Hmm… God, you have such a wondrous taste…"

There you are. Your slow, erotic tone who made fall so many men before. It's not difficult to imagine your client masturbating himself like a damn one. You almost can hear him doing so. His wonderful cock you are sucking until the last drop.

"Fuck… Fuuuuu…. I… Aaaaah… This is… so… fucking good… Haaan…"

"Yeah baby? Do you want me to go faster? Let me do…"

"I… I gonna…"

"Your little whore is going to swallow everything until your balls are totally empty, you know that, Jay…?"

"H-… Oh my…! Hmmm… AAAAH !"

And there are the fireworks. Your man's voice explodes with magnificence. You let him enjoy this moment. His moment. A slight smile on your lips covered by his generous cum. You clean up the little mess by one movement of your tongue.

"Is this good, baby…?"

"Hell… Yeah… I… 've just… stained myself."

"You must be lovely. I'd love to see you, right now…"

"Fucking Christ. I had so much in my balls."

"Do you feel better, now?"

"Fuck yes. Much better."

"Can I lick your cum?"

"Come here, honey."

Oh yeah. You were going to find him soon as expected.

#jaehyun smut #nct smut #jaehyun x reader #nct 127 #jung jaehyun #jaehyun #smut #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun fic

[liminalpebble]

Stray: Part 10 and Epilogue

Masterlist link

Stray: Part 10

Loki and Frigga sat across from each other in her private parlor. The younger prince was tapping his foot and fiddling with his hair nervously as he asked, “Are you sure she'll be okay? This must all be so overwhelming for her.”

Frigga smiled placidly and reached out her hand to hold her son's, stilling his restless movements. “She'll be more than fine. They'll take very good care of her. You have my word.”

Frigga let the silence settle for a moment before she said. “I'm glad to meet her. Surprised, but glad nonetheless. I can see why you are so taken with her. She has a good heart...a grateful heart.”

Loki sighed, trying to hide the depth of his feelings in front of the one person whom he could never fool. “You've met many of the men and women I'd grown fond of over the years. Is this so different for you?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant as he eased back into his chair, crossing his long legs, and stroking a finger pensively over his lips.

Frigga nodded, “For you, yes. It's very different. Or rather, you are very different. It's never been anything...real...before, has it? I've never really seen you in love before.”

“What makes you think I'm in love?”

“Love...real love...makes us all spill open a little, and I can see it. She has melted some of that ice around your heart. I didn't think it possible.”

“So you've been watching me, Mother?” he said with a smirk, which Frigga mirrored.

“Perhaps, a bit. I thought it best to let things unfold naturally. But I think the time has come to involved myself. Come with me.”

He followed her to a corner of her study, to a golden chest, where she reached in to lift out a glowing golden apple. “Do you love her, my son? Do you want a lifetime with her? Our lifetime...surpassing her own.”

He took a deep fortifying breath. “I do. So much...so much that it feels like a sort of insanity, a madness. Now that I've known her care and companionship, I can't imagine the remainder of my life without her.”

Frigga grinned and her eyes welled slightly, “Then offer her this. Help her become one of us. Help her learn and explore everything your curious minds crave. Have your adventures with your beloved for eons to come.”

Loki smiled, but just as quickly, it faded and he looked down, eyebrows furrowed with worry. “But Mother, what if she says 'no'? What if she refuses me...now or centuries from now? What if I don't deserve her? What if...”

Frigga put a finger to his mouth to silence him, “Loki, that is how love works. You risk, and you trust and you doubt and you fear, for the sake of another person. It's not a tournament to be won. It's a leap of faith.”

Without any further words, but with tears in both of their eyes, they embraced each other tightly as the prince whispered to his mother, “thank you.”

------

Loki found his human in lavish chambers, adorned in a fine Asgardian gown, and charming half a dozen ladies in waiting with your disarming demeanor. You were twirling around in the voluminous dress with a big smile, like a little girl. You were startled and blushed a little when you realized he was standing there.

“Whew! You scared me! I didn't hear you coming.”

He chuckled, offering his widest, most charming smile. His heart was bursting out of his chest at the mere sight you. “Apologies, darling. No one ever does. You look absolutely ravishing, my lovely princess,” he declared as he spun you around in his arms. He set you down lightly then held both of your hands in his.

You gave him a worried look. “What...what's wrong. Have you been crying?” you asked gently, holding your warm palm to his cheek.

“Yes. Yes I have, but they are tears of the greatest joy. I have to ask you something very important.”

He gestured the ladies away, leaving the two of you alone. You nodded, and felt the breath stop in your throat. The world came to a stand still as you wondered what he was about to say. Loki's hand gleamed green then a radiant flawless golden apple appeared in his hands. “I want to offer you a bite of this apple. If you eat of it, you will have a life as long as mine, become a goddess by my side for ages as we traverse the universe. I can't imagine a life without you...without your love and kindness and cleverness and care and your laugh and the look of joy and gratitude in your eyes when you I've pleased you. I love you...so much. Will you do me the honor of spending eternity with me?”

Giddy excitement shot up like a rocket within you, making your cheeks piping hot and bringing tears to your eyes as you met his intense ones of aquamarine. “I...I don't deserve this.” was the first thought that escaped your lips.

“Darling...you deserve all of this and more,” Loki said, pulling you close to kiss you warmly and softly, holding your face in his careful elegant hands. “Please, be my princess.”

“Yes...yes....yes! I love you, too. Yes,” was all you could say, breathing out the words over and over again as you nodded vehemently. Loki interrupted this stream of affirmation by meeting your lips again, taking his time to taste you. It would be your last kiss with him as a mere mortal.

When you finally took a bite of that otherworldly golden apple, it was the sweetest fruit you had ever tasted; almost as sweet and divine as the destiny ahead of you, almost as sweet and divine as the god holding you.

----

Epilogue

It was a gleaming bright white December morning in Seattle. Rather than rain, ice had dominated every inch of the terrain and snow glistened off the buildings. It was so cold, you thought, but at least it was sunny for a change. As you stood on the balcony of the most luxurious hotel the city had to offer, you were grateful to have this as your final memory of your city (at least for awhile). The sun was shining on you, as bright and fresh as your new life.

In another part of town, a small apartment stood clean and empty, ready for the stories of someone else's life to fill it. A polite letter and the final month's rent were dropped quietly into the landlord's mailbox. All your beloved books, records, and anything else you wanted to hang onto was tucked away, safe and sound, in what Loki called his “pocket universe”. You considered just letting go of everything you owned, pondered the appeal of a blank slate, but Loki dissuaded you. He begged you to keep your records. He wanted to dance with you to the soundtrack of your love's origin story over and over again. He could be sentimental that way.

It felt good to tie up loose ends. You made sure a gracious letter of resignation made its way to Mr. Mullen. Although Loki insisted it was far more polite than what that worm deserved, you were determined to take the high road, and he loved you all the more for that.

The last loose end was your favorite to tie up, and you did so with a big golden ribbon. Janet found a gift and an envelope tucked under the cash register that morning; her name gracing the front in elegant calligraphy. The note was a simple one.

Janet, you are always worthy. You are so young, and I know you're afraid and uncertain, but you will grow and do great things. I know it. I've run off with my prince charming. I hope to see you again someday. All my love. P.S. The gift is something to keep you warm.

Janet read it with tears in her eyes, then she opened the package to find a soft blue scarf. She held it tightly against herself. She was a little startled when her first customer of the day asked her a question, and hurried to dry her eyes.

“Oh! Sir, I'm so sorry! How can I help you?”

She looked up to see the largest man she had ever seen smiling brightly at her as his stunning blue eyes met hers. “I'm so sorry, dear lady. I hope you're not in distress. I wonder if you might aide me in selecting a 'tie'.”

He nodded his head of long blonde hair and took her hand to kiss it.

Janet's eyes went as wide as they could go in shock, and then she giggled uncontrollably, thinking, Jeez, maybe Henry does have a brother after all.

----

Loki stepped lightly over to you as he adjusted his tie and smoothed out the crisp lines of his black suit. “Almost ready, darling?” he asked in his dulcet baritone, as he came up behind you to kiss your bejeweled neck.

“Almost. Can you help me with this zipper?” You asked, giving up your struggle with the very smartly tailored traveling dress. It was a dream of soft royal purple that hugged all of your curves well (which delighted your prince). You'd swear he helped you pick out the ones with zippers in the back just so he had an excuse to do this.

Loki came up close behind you and kissed your cheek. As he deftly slid the pull all the way up he said, “Of course, but you know I enjoy sliding you out of this oh so much more.”

You both let out a mischievous chuckle then kissed sweetly, sighing with satisfaction. He helped you into your pea coat, hat and gloves, before donning his own. Opening the hotel room door for you to exit ahead of him, he said with his biggest dimpled grin, “Ready?”.

You nodded and took his offered arm. “Yes, but where are we going?”

As your polished dress shoes clicked down the hallway side by side, Loki slid his other hand in his pocket, holding tightly to a tattered green loop of leather with his name written on it. He felt his heart warm as he said, meeting your eyes, “Wherever you'd like. The sky's the limit, my love.”

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End Note: My dear sweet readers, I can't thank you enough for all of the love and comments and sharing and feedback. And a big thank you to @mischief2sarawr for the idea request. I fell into this story because I really really needed some softness and love and fluff right now. I hope those of you who read this in need of the same thing have found that comfort too. Sending you all of my love and gratitude, Peb.

#loki fanfic #lokitty #D.B Cooper Loki #loki fluff #pre-Thor 1 Loki #loki x reader