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acourtofthought · 5 months

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Lucien when it comes to Elain:

"Don't just leave her on the damned floor!"

Lucien took off his jacket, kneeling before Elain.

Water poured forth, Lucien hoisting Elain in his arms and out of the way.

"Where is he keeping her?" Tell me anyway. List all of them." "I I need to find her."

Given that his own status as a mated male made him uninterested in any sort of female company these days.

"I'm a mated male now."

"I'm getting my mate back."

"Tell me about her - about Elain."

"Is....is there anything I can get for you?"

"Too thin. She must not be eating at all."

Looking at her now....She was pale, yes. The vacancy still glazing her features. But she couldn't breath as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen.

Her eyes were the brown of a fawn's coat.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"She needs fresh air."

"Take her to the sea. Take her to some garden. But get her out of this house for an hour or two."

"It wasn't just about what he thought - it was the ... feeling. I sensed no ill will, no conniving. Only concern for her. And ... sorrow. Longing."

"Let me do something. About Elain. I heard - from my room. Everything that happened just now. It wouldn't hurt to have a healer look her over. Externally and internally."

"I think she went through something terrible."

"Please tell me," Lucien said when I crossed the threshold into the foyer, "What the healer says. And if - if you need me for anything."

Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye—the longing and sadness.

Lucien. It was Lucien. Lucien, haggard and bloody, panting for breath. As if he'd run from the shore. His gaze settled on Elain, and he sagged a little. "Are you hurt?" he asked, coming toward us. Spying the blood speckling Elain's hand.

"I heard - what happened. I'm sorry for your loss. All of you. "He was a good man, he loved you all very much."

Elain fell into step beside me, peering at Lucien. He noticed it. "I heard you made the killing blow," he said.

To where Lucien now stood in the sitting room, close to Elain's side.

"How is she?"

"Does she still mourn him?

Lucien had encountered him, I realized. Somehow, in living with Jurian and Vassa at the manor, he'd run into Elain's former bethrothed. And managed to leave the human lord breathing.

"The bigger box is for you. The smaller one is for her."

"The pain etching deep into Lucien's face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

Lucien as Lucien:

“She refused, and … Lucien told her to go back to the shit-hole she’d crawled out of. She took his eye as punishment.

I wondered—wondered if being emissary also meant being spymaster.

he’d already made many friends across the courts and had always been good at talking to people,

I found that he was running—fast. Faster than anything should be able to move.

“I thought you would have learned your lesson, Lucien. Though this time your silence will damn you as much as your tongue.” Lucien kept his eyes shut. Ready—he was ready for Rhysand to wipe out everything he was, to turn his mind, his self, into dust.

Then, shattering the silence like a shooting star, a voice—Lucien’s—bellowed across the chamber. “TO YOUR LEFT!”

Didn’t you realize I would help you after that? Oath or no oath?”

“Please,” Lucien said, bowing his head gracefully. “The effort to rebuild is our burden to share. It would be our honor.”

Lucien had gifted both to me—the dagger during the months before Amarantha, the belt in the weeks after her downfall, when I’d carried the dagger, along with many others, everywhere I went. You might as well look good if you’re going to arm yourself to the teeth, he’d said.

Lucien cleared his throat. “She meant no harm, Tam.” “I know she meant no harm,” he snapped. Lucien held his gaze. “Worse things have happened, worse things can happen. Just relax.”

Lucien had gone on, his tone pleading, Tamlin. Tam. Just let her train, let her master this—if the other High Lords do come for her, let her stand a chance …

a pattern of thinking and feeling that was old, and clever.

“I did it for you, too, you know.” Cold, hard words. “I went with him to get you back.”. “That day you—went away,” he said, struggling to avoid that other word—left. “I beat Tamlin back to the manor—received the message when we were out on the border and raced here. But the only trace of you was that ring, melted between the stones of the parlor. I got rid of it a moment before Tam arrived home to see it.”

Believe me, I’ve asked.” “For me—you asked them for me.” “Yes. I went last winter to inquire about breaking your bargain with Rhys.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I—we didn’t want to give you false hope.

I begged him for more time, but you’d already been gone for months.

My blood chilled. “You didn’t stop him.” “I tried. I begged him for mercy. He didn’t listen. He couldn’t listen.”

Lucien loosed a heavy sigh and slid an arm around my waist, the other threading through my hair to cradle my head. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm sorry.". He held me, stroking soothing lines down my back.

Leave him. I should and could leave him. But to a fate perhaps worse than death. His russet eye gleamed. "Go."

But Lucien was there. / Lucien's sword refracted the light of the sun leaking through the canopy. And then met flesh and bone.

"I could train for as long as I liked, since no one believed I’d be dumb enough to kill my way up the long list of heirs. And when I grew bored with studying and fighting … I learned what I could of the land from its people. Learned about the people, too.”

He waded into the stream, boots off and pants rolled to his knees, and caught one with his bare hands.

Lucien picked them up by their tails as if he'd done it a thousand times. "I'll clean them while you start a fire."

"I had the element of surprise on my side." "No," Lucien said quietly. "That was all you".

Of all the sounds that Lucien so carefully sorted through while he kept watch.

I dreamed that he removed his cloak and added it over my blanket. / I'd been wearing my cloak but he'd indeed given me his.

I think Lucien shouted my name.

Like Rhys, he usually opted for words to win his battles,

He knew how to handle a weapon. How to kill, if need be.

Lucien, to his credit, didn’t back away a step. From Rhys, or me, or the Illyrians. The Clever Fox Stares Down Winged Death.

I counted the heartbeats, debating how much I’d interfere if he said something truly stupid, when he at last murmured, “There is a longer story to be told, it seems.” Smart answer.

He added to Lucien, who did not balk from those writhing shadows,

His talent was wasted in the Spring Court. There was a reason he had that fox mask, you know.”

He’d always had a casual grace about him, but here, tonight, with his hair tied back and jacket buttoned to his neck, he truly looked the part of a High Lord’s son. Handsome, powerful, a bit rakish—but well-mannered and elegant.

Lucien considered. “Can I offer my unsolicited advice?”

Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.

Especially since Lucien had left before breakfast for a library across the city to look up anything in regard to fixing the wall, a task I'd been more than willing to hand over. I might have felt guilty for never giving him a proper tour of Velaris, but.... he seemed eager.

Lucien had offered to make himself useful while we were gone by reading through some of the texts now piled on the tables throughout the sitting room.

"Let me guess: they said yes, but picking the location is now going to be the headache." Mor frowned, "Any suggestions?" Lucien tied back his hair with a strip of brown leather. "Do you have a map?"

“You will be going into the human territory,” Rhys warned. “I can’t spare a force to guard you—” “I don’t need one. I travel faster on my own.”

“It will be—very dangerous.” A half smile curved Lucien’s mouth. “Good. It’d be boring otherwise.”

"It was time," Lucien said quietly, giving me a squeeze. "For me to do something."

Cassian had given him free rein yesterday afternoon to loot his personal cache of weapons, though my friend had been economical about which ones he’d selected. The blade, plus a short sword, plus an assortment of daggers. A quiver of arrows and an unstrung bow were tied to his pack.

Rhys extended a hand to Lucien. Lucien studied it—then my mate’s face. I could nearly see all the hateful words they’d spoken. Dangling between them, between that outstretched hand and Lucien’s own. But Lucien took Rhys’s hand. That silent offer of not only transportation.

Seems like Lucien can still play the fox.

Lucien had remained behind to help with any of the human wounded still needing Fae healing, but had promised to come here when he finished.

Lucien had come here out of pity. Mercy.

The male had grown up alongside Eris. Had dealt with Eris’s and Beron’s cruelty. Had his lover slaughtered by his own father. But Lucien had learned to keep his cool.

The male was somehow able to move between his three roles - an emissary for the Night Court, ally to Jurian and Vassa, and liaison to Tamlin - and still dress immaculately.

"Set up the handsome one as High Lord of Autumn"

Perhaps you'll get a handsome fae lord as your mate, too "

"Lucien's cruel beauty"

Sculpted chest

Hard muscles of his shoulders

Broad hands

#elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra

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bluebeary-jay · 7 months

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CONGRATS!!! 1000 FOLLOWERS IS SO AWESOME AND I'M HAPPY FOR YOU!!🥰🩷

For the celebration I'm thinking Joel has lived in Jackson for months and has a bad reputation so people mostly avoid him and he always keeps to himself. BUT reader is the exception, always with a big smile and really polite to him (and he has a terrible crush on her). She always sees him alone at the bar looking around and seeming dislocated and decides to ask him "may I have this dance" cause she likes him too, but he panic and refuses. Later he realizes he's missing his chance with her and tries to fix it. Just some nice fluff (with age gap please🙏)

HIIIII SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT NONNIE

(okay so I'm back-ish, I apologize to everyone for disappearing but i had a rough couple of weeks and had to deal with a lot of stuff. i actually finished this fic some time ago but didn't have strength to post it but i'm more ready now so here you go <3 i hope you'll like it, i had a lot of fun writing it!! and thank you for requesting!! love you 🥰)

Joel Miller was a recluse. Everyone knew that, though not many were aware that he didn’t exactly choose this kind of life for himself.

He really hoped that things would get better after he settled down in Jackson with Ellie, but the residents of the town made it very clear that they didn’t want his company. It stung a little, especially since Joel didn’t think he gave them any reason to be wary of him, but he hid his hurt well. With time he got used to nasty whispers, people giving him a wide berth and basically everyone but Tommy and Ellie avoiding him. It was unpleasant, sure, but he learned to just deal with it.

Well, there was also you.

Joel had no clue what your deal was. Why you weren’t shying away from him like your fellow peers and why you went out of your way to always catch him into a conversation or smile at him whenever you saw him.

“I think she’s crushin’ on ya,” Tommy told him once during a dinner at his house. Ellie and Maria weren’t present, the latter showing the teen some clothes she might want – and thank fuck for that. Joel would murder his little brother if he said such nonsense in their presence.

“The hell you’re talkin’ about?” he spluttered, his eyebrows furrowed when Tommy sent him a smug, knowing grin. The question was completely unnecessary, of course, since they were already talking about you, but still Joel hoped he somehow misinterpreted his brother’s words.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Joel.” He sprawled out on the chair, still with that stupid smirk. “I really think she’s into you. I’d ask her out if I were you.”

“There’s no… I assure you she isn’t.”

“But if she was–”

“She’s not. Now can I eat my meal in peace?” Joel placed his hands on the table, but Tommy shook his head.

“But you like her, right? She’s nice.”

Joel sighed. “Yeah, she is.”

“And pretty.”

That Joel didn’t fall for. He glared at his brother.

“Jesus, Tommy, let me have it. I’m lucky she even wants to talk to me, with all her friends tellin’ her I’m bad news and me being half her age older.”

His eyes became solemn and voice took a lower, quieter tone, which told Tommy the matter was hitting Joel harder than he let on. He sat up straight, getting rid of the teasing smile.

“Alrigh’. Sorry for bringin’ it up.” Joel sighed and nodded, signifying that everything was okay. “I just want you to be happy, y’know. Maybe you should give yourself a chance.”

The older Miller didn’t answer and took a big swig of whiskey out of his glass.

The problem was, he didn’t need Tommy to tell him all that. Joel would have to be blind and stupid not to notice how breathtakingly beautiful you are, and this, combined with your intelligence, passion and sense of humor, was his ultimate undoing. Every time he talked with you, it was all he could do to hide the redness in his cheeks and the weakness in his knees.

But he did. ‘Cause, let’s be real – even though Joel recognized he had a terrible crush on you (though it took him weeks to make peace with this fact) he knew there was no way in hell you’d find him even a fraction as attractive as he found you. He was almost twice your age, for heaven’s sake, and such a young, gorgeous woman as you would never agree to throw her life away to be with an old man.

But God knew that with each day you broke down his walls, the desire to kiss you was becoming more and more agonizing. Every smile you sent his way worked only to feed his imagination of how soft your lips would surely be if he could only brush his thumb across it, not to mention touch them with his own. He wondered how your hands, so much smaller than his calloused ones, would feel on his stomach or shoulders. How it would be to embrace you with his arms, skin to skin and without any layers in-between.

Those were not the thoughts he should be having, especially in public – yet here he was, several days after his conversation with Tommy, imagining impossible while he watched you laughing on the dance floor with your friend. You looked so carefree, so happy and full of life, your energy only reminding Joel sourly of his own old age.

He noticed you glancing his way several times throughout the evening but he knew it didn’t mean anything, it would never mean anything other than your innocent friendliness. So he just quickly looked away lest you realize he was staring.

Joel took a swing from his glass and looked around the bar, trying to take his mind off you – fruitlessly. His eyes still darted back to you every few seconds, involuntarily roaming over your exposed skin visible under the nice outfit you picked for tonight. It was driving Joel insane with longing and need, and all he could think of was the mental image of how kissing and touching you gently would feel like.

Bet you’d feel so perfect under his palms.

He closed his eyes and propped up his forehead on his fist, trying to tune out the music and all the distracting background noises.

Keep it together.

He had to remember that he was way too old to be this enamored with a young, pretty girl like you. You would surely be repulsed if you had any clue about what was going on in his head, and some of the thoughts he had–

Then, Joel felt a light touch on his shoulder and lo and behold – there you were, standing right in front of him with a bright smile, as if summoned by his thoughts.

“Hi,” you said, tilting your head in that endearing way that made his insides tighten. “What are you doing here alone, cowboy?”

Joel prayed that he wasn’t blushing, though his hope diminished increasingly when your eyes wandered curiously across his features. Your eyebrows rose slightly and he cursed internally.

Fuck, you were so beautiful.

“M’not…” He cleared his throat and started again. “M’waitin’ for Tommy. He had to sort somethin’ out with… uh, someone.” He drummed his fingers against the table but stopped immediately, not wanting to give you an impression that the conversation with you was boring him. “You don’t have to do it, darlin’.”

You gave him a puzzled look, and he explained. “Y’know. Hang out with me. The people like to talk nasty things and I don’t wanna expose you to that.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” You shrugged with a sweet smile which Joel could kill for just to see it one more time. “And I… enjoy spending time with you.“

It didn’t mean anythin’. You were just bein’ friendly.

But even though he kept repeating it to himself like a mantra, Joel could not take his eyes off you. You were a vision – your profile bathed in the soft lights of the bar, your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked over your shoulder, deep in thought, at the stereo tower. The current song’s notes died down and a new one, much slower and romantic, started to play. You took a deep breath and let out a nervous laugh. “Actually I wanted to ask you something. If you don’t mind.”

“Ask away, darlin’.” He offered you a small smile, hoping to put you at ease, and you wetted your lips – which nearly gave him a heart attack and caused him to almost miss your next words.

“May I have this dance?”

Joel’s world stopped for a moment. He was in the middle of lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips but his muscles stiffened and the tumbler slipped out of his cold fingers. It didn’t shatter, but the rich liquid spilled all over the table. Your eyes flickered to the overturned glass, but Joel didn’t pay it any mind, too stunned to look at anything else but you.

“C-come again?” he stuttered, his voice strained and small. In the corner of his eye he noticed people at the next table glancing their way, alarmed by the noise, but he forced his attention back to you.

“This is my favorite song,” you explained shyly, an adorable blush spreading across your cheeks and neck. “So… may I have this dance, Joel?”

Now the people sitting around them definitely heard that, because they started smirking and whispering, and one person went to another group standing nearby on the dance floor. Joel felt his own face growing hot as he watched them pointing not-so-discreetly in his direction.

It was like the most wonderful dream and the most horrible nightmare come true at the same time.

He couldn’t do it. There was no way, not in front of all the people of Jackson who hated and despised him. He didn’t want to give them a show to gossip about or worse, subject you to their disdain.

But you still stood in front of his chair with an innocent, hopeful smile, though you started to shuffle the longer Joel was silent. The song – your favorite, supposedly – was passing in the background but you kept waiting patiently for an answer to your question.

He had to come up with something. Or just explain to you that he doesn’t dance – the sweet little thing you were, you’d probably understand and not pressure him into doing it. At least he hoped so.

C’mon, say somethin’.

“No.”

Your face fell instantly and Joel’s eyes widened at the mortifying realization of what just came out of his mouth.

Anythin’ but THAT.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds in the silence of the bar before your eyes started to glisten and you averted your gaze. Someone to Joel’s left snickered derisively and in the next second whispers erupted all around you two. You seemed to shrink in yourself, embarrassment and regret marking your beautiful face, and Joel’s heart almost broke when a tear slipped from your eye, and then another one fell down your other cheek.

“Okay,” you murmured, wiping the treacherous tears quickly and keeping your gaze trained on the floor. “Sorry. Sorry.”

You turned on your heel and went to exit the establishment, your step gradually turning into a run when the giggles and whispers around you became louder. The door swung open on the winter wind and just like that, you were gone.

Then all eyes turned to Joel – and the shame Joel felt increased at least tenfold.

He saw Tommy standing up and walking toward him from the other side of the room with worry written all over his face, but Joel didn’t stick around to hear what he had to say. He stood up and left through the same door you did, glaring threateningly at anyone stupid enough to still snicker at the situation they witnessed.

Ten minutes later Joel was standing in front of your door, trying to keep his knocking below the ‘desperate’ level.

He realized that he had to tell you. He intended to keep the feelings he harbored for you bottled up for the rest of his life but you needed to know the reason why he turned you down. You needed to hear from him that he cared about you, that it wasn’t some malicious act toward you but sheer cowardice stemming from the problem that he was madly in love with you.

“Hello? It’s… it’s Joel,” he choked out through his tight throat as he knocked again, a little louder this time. “Darlin’, can I talk to you?”

No response came, though he saw the lights in your house were on, and Joel had to take a deeper breath to calm his nerves. He prayed that he hadn’t completely screwed it up, but for now all the evidence spoke against him.

You wanted to dance with him. You gathered your courage just to ask him for a dance and he said no.

Joel knew he lost his chance. He lost you. You were his only friend in town and he somehow managed to fuck everything up with just one word.

He was so lost in his wallowing in despair that he almost missed the door opening slightly. In the gap of the doorway he caught a glimpse of your iris – and though it was only for a split second, Joel could clearly see that your eye was red. A pang of guilt pierced his chest but once you saw it was him, you shut the door again.

“No, darlin’, please. Please, just let me explain.” A wave of desperation and fear threatened to drown him and Joel’s heart clenched in his chest. “I’m so sorry, I acted like an asshole but I never wanted to hurt you, I just… I-I panicked.”

He was babbling, not even knowing if you were still there on the other side of the door, but the desperate and remorseful words were spilling out of him like a waterfall.

“I’m so sorry. Sweetheart…” Joel sighed, putting his hand on the cold wood of the door and listening for a couple of seconds, but there was no sound coming from inside. “Please. I’m beggin’ you, open the door.”

Then he heard something – a sound like blowing one’s nose. Joel froze for one, two… three seconds, and nearly collapsed in relief when you unlocked the door.

“You can come in,” you said, but didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re probably freezing, no?”

Joel nodded, feeling his throat going dry at the sorrowful sight of you. He crossed the threshold, closing the front door quietly behind him and looked you over. You hadn’t changed out of that pretty outfit of yours yet, although it was now covered by a long cardigan that you draped over your shoulders. In your hand you held a crumpled tissue but quickly pocketed it when Joel’s eyes fell on it.

He opened his mouth with a sharp inhale but before he could apologize, you beat him to it.

“I’m sorry for that,” you blurted out and glanced up at him but quickly looked down at the floor again. “I shouldn’t have asked you to dance in front of all those people and I overreacted because then everyone was looking at me… Look, it wasn’t even that big of a deal so don’t read into it. Everything is fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he said softly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. “You have nothin’ to apologize for. I’m sorry for embarrassin’ you. I panicked ‘cause I–”

“It’s fine,” you muttered again. “Just forget it.”

“I can’t. Listen, sweetheart, I panicked ‘cause I wish I could let myself read into it.”

Your head snapped up and Joel swallowed heavily, realizing how stupid that sounded.

“What I mean–” Fuck, he really was shit at talking so openly about these stuff. “I… I have feelings for ya. Had ‘em for a long time now but I never planned on actin’ on ‘em ‘cause I know I’m too old and you’d never…”

“You’re… really?” you asked with wide eyes, but he tuned your words out, fearing that you were going to kick him out at any second.

“I’m only tellin’ you all this ‘cause I need you to know I care about ya and I didn’t say ‘no’ outta malice or… or ‘cause I don’t like you. I do. Too much, I’m afraid.”

You were staring at him, mouth agape and silent. Joel didn’t move, awaiting your reaction – whether you tell him to get out or scream how disgusting he was, he was going to take it. And then, if you never want to see him again, he’ll accept it. One day. But he doubted his heart would ever recover.

“Let me fix it,” he begged, his voice just above a whisper when you didn’t give any reaction to his confession. “Please, darlin’.”

Your eyes skimmed over his face as you hummed to yourself, almost irritably calm. Joel swallowed, the weight of guilt and anticipation pulling him down – and he was ready to fall to his knees before you when finally you lifted your hand to brush his lower lip with your fingertips, so delicately he could barely feel it. He froze and tried not to breathe, not wanting to cause you to pull away.

“I noticed something when you were rambling,” you said with a hint of reflection. Joel had no idea what was happening or why were you acting that way, but he daren’t move. He briefly entertained a thought that he was dreaming, but then his attention got caught by the sight of the corner of your lips twitching slightly, as if you were keeping yourself from laughing.

His chest expanded with hope so strong, it was almost unbearably painful.

“What is it?” he forced himself to speak, the nerves making his voice weak and raspy.

“Your accent gets heavier when you’re nervous,” you mused, as though to yourself, now trailing your fingertips down his stubbly cheek. “It’s cute.”

His heart lurched at your words. You gazed up at him and absently bit your lip, which Joel found downright sinful.

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to gather the courage to make the first move?” Your words were bitter, but there was a trace of relief in your voice. Joel let your fingers wander across the lines of his jaw and cheekbones, wishing he had enough boldness to touch you like that, too, but suddenly, your hand stilled and your eyes met his again. “Did you mean it? The things you said?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, his own fingers twitching as he restrained himself from reaching for you. His head was spinning, trying to comprehend the meaning of your actions and words. “But do you–”

You touched his lips lightly again, silencing his question, and your features slowly were overtaken by a large, bright smile, which seemed to lift all the heavy weight of worry from Joel’s shoulders.

“You wanted to fix it, right?” you asked in a teasing whisper. He nodded. “Then just ask me.”

You weren’t angry. You weren’t pulling away.

You wanted to dance with him and you gathered the courage to do so, and now Joel had to do the same. He couldn’t waste this second chance you gave him.

The corner of his lips quirked upwards and he exhaled shakily.

“May I have this dance?”

You pursed your lips to hide your joy and side-eyed him, but your eyes were sparkling with playfulness. “You know, I think I should respond the same way you did. Just to be fair.”

“Sweetheart, don’t play with this old man’s heart,” he whispered and smiled shyly when you giggled at the exasperation but also uncertainty in his voice. Joel still felt kind of out of it, too stunned to trust his mind that this was really happening – but the sound of your laughter brought him right back to Earth, to the place he wanted to be more than anywhere else.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight, Miller.” You took his hand and brought it to your hip, making Joel’s breath hitch in his throat and cheeks grow warm. His reaction didn’t get past you, and you smiled at him so radiantly that his world started to spin. Then your arms wrapped around his neck and you pressed your body against his. “But you’ll have some atoning to do.”

His throat was dry, but Joel returned your shy smile, stepping to the side and guiding you carefully to the thumping rhythm of his heart.

And a couple of minutes later, after more hushed apologies and assurances during your slow-dancing, Joel placed his hand on your cheek, almost letting out a relieved whimper when you nuzzled your face into his palm.

And after another few minutes went by, when he leaned in and you didn’t stop his lips from meeting yours, he knew he was a goner.

He couldn’t get rid of the big smile on his face – perhaps the first real one since arriving in Jackson all those months ago.

#bluebeary-jay's 1k party #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #peepaw needs some love and we need a volunteer #joel miller x you #the last of us #i love writing joel so shy and fumbling over his words #he might be an unstoppable force and ready to kill people without batting an eye but he WILL blush while talking to a pretty girl

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littlemissaddict · 2 months

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Just a little idea that popped into my head while I was trying to sleep. And while I love reading reader x single dad! fics as someone who doesn't want kids I just feel it's not something I've come across in fics yet (it probably has been done and if you have any recs please send them my way)

Also this drifted away from my original idea and I'm too lazy to correct it so please enjoy whatever this has turned into.

"And then Ella" Steve was replaying the story animatedly across the table from her. They were on a first date, after having bumped into him at the grocery store last week where he had surprised her by asking her out.

"Sorry you've lost me, who's Ella" she asks, interrupting him but it was hard to follow the story when she had no idea who she was. She had figured she was another friend or something as it was the first time her name had been mentioned all night where as she'd heard all about the kids he used to babysit, his best friend Robin and the metalhead who had been adopted into the group but Ella was new.

Steve's face fell and she worried her question had upset him, had he already talked about her tonight and she'd missed it so now it had come across as she hadn't been listening. Oh god, it had been going so well and now she'd messed it up with one simple question.

"Have I not told you? I could've sworn I told you?" He asked, there was no accusations in his tone. Instead, he sounded more confused. She shook her head in answer to his questions and he sighed, "I could've, it's the first thing I tell people, how could I have not mentioned her" he was muttering more to himself than her.

She offered him what she hoped was a reassuring smile as she reached across the table to rest her hand over the top of his where at some point he'd clenched his napkin in his fist. He looked up at her touch, "it's okay you don't have to tell me if you don't want to" she reassured him. It may have been a first date but he didn't have to tell her his whole life story in one go, she hoped there'd be a few more where they could learn more about each other.

"No, she's someone I like to be up front about, I need to know before I get involved with anyone so they don't freak out and leave when they do eventually find out and then I'm left picking up the pieces" he explains and her heart bleeds for him, thinking about Steve thinking everything is going well only to be left picking the pieces of his heart up after they leave but she also can't help the anxious feeling building inside of her.

"Ella's my daughter"

Her face falls as soon as the words slip past his lips, a reaction she's quick to cover but not quick enough as Steve sees.

"I know it's a lot to take in especially when we're just getting to know each other that's why I like to make it known straight off the bat but tonight, I don't know I guess I just got so caught up in the excitement of being here with you that I forgot and that sounds terrible that I'm admitting to forgetting my own daughter but it's been a while since I've actually been excited for a date and well you've made me feel like a teenager again which I guess is why" he rambles, his eyes closing as he rubs his fingers against his temples before he looks back at her. "Please say something, even if it's just to tell me I'm an idiot" he all but pleads.

"Steve" she whispers. Her mind is going at a million miles a minute as she processes his confession and her own feelings. "I don't know, I really wasn't expecting to be discussing kids on a first date" she admits, "but since we're being up front then I can't lie but kids have never really been in my plans for the future and I know your not asking anything from me right now but I've enjoyed myself tonight and I really want to see where this goes but," she pauses glancing at Steve and she can tell that he's expecting her to tell him that she doesn't want to be with someone who already has a kid and the acceptance of it is written all over his face which is heartbreaking because he deserves love she's just not sure if she's the one.

"If this did progress, if we did get together I just don't know if I'd fit your expectations or even hers" she admits, already feeling like she'd be a disappointment to the both of them when she couldn’t fill the mother roll that she thought he was expected her to fill. "I just don't want it to get to the point where we realise that maybe it won't work and then we're left as you say picking up the pieces" she finishes with a sniffle, god please don't let her cry.

And Steve, wonderful Steve, leans even further across the table, his large palm cupping her cheek as a small smile graces his lips. "I have no expectations, this would be new for both of us as its only ever been me and her for the longest time, all I need to know is if you'd be willing to try, take things slow until we figure out us and then when you're ready then we introduce Ella, we could just even say your a friend if that makes you more comfortable" he tries and she melts under his touch, his gaze.

"I'm terrible with kids" she adds, giving him one last out to change his mind but he just chuckles.

"They're a learning curve, trust me but she's a good kid" he promises with a nod that somehow has her feeling at ease. Kids may have not been in her plan for the future but maybe one wouldn't be so bad.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

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kasagia · 10 months

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Bring me a dream pt. 2

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/general Kirigan x fem! sun summoner! reader Summary: Aleksander has always wanted to meet you. His soul mate. But when he finally has you by his side in the Little Palace, he realises that you are not the same after all, and the passage of time has changed both him and you. Can you find your way back? Rise to the occasion and give Grisha a brighter, safer future? Wairning(s): trauma, fold, volcra, abuse, de@th mention, Baghra is a terrible mother, Genya deserves better, Aleksander is a puppy that needs a hug, the reader has a moral conflict, they are all ALONE. Word count: 5,4k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @morrigan-crowmwell @louderfortheback @ludarklina-fan-spot @sayumiht @budugu @howibecameabadassbitch ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 1 ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

Oh I'm scared to see the ending why are we pretending this is nothing? I'd tell you I miss you but I don't know how... I've never heard silence quite this loud. Taylor Swift - The Story of Us

"If he thinks I'm going to wear this, I would be more than happy to go and tell him that I'm not." you snort as you sit in the huge (very comfortable) bed in the room Aleksander has assigned you in the Little Palace.

Genya sighed as she put the black kefta with golden sun embellishments and sunbeams on the bed. Kefta was beautiful… if only it hadn't been tainted by his colour.

"The general insisted that you wear black to your presentation to the royal family."

"And I insist that he shouldn't take me to that circus. Did you tell him that?" the redhead giggled in amusement, which made me smile slightly.

It was a big change for her. After the first time I disobeyed Aleksander's orders, Genya looked at me with a mixture of fear, confusion and concern. However, she quickly learned that such skirmishes between us were the norm ... or at least I wasn't punished for them in any way. Except for Aleksander's inborn malice, which he surely gained from his mother.

"Oh I did… and General told me to tell you that if he had to, he'd carry you all the way to the Grand Palace himself. No matter what you would be wearing."

"Bastard." you mutter under your breath. You get out of bed and look at the kefta Genya made for you.

"The General doesn't let just anyone walk in his colors." she tells you in a conspiratorial tone. A small, mischievous smirk stretches across her lips.

You flinch, feigning disgust. "Don't even insinuate such things to me. He must be too old for me... Better tell me how your handsome friend Durast is?" you ask teasingly, laughing as you see the blush on her cheeks.

She bends down and steals a pillow from your bed to throw at you. You toss pillows, laughing. You both stop when, suddenly, after your dodging, a pillow thrown by Genya is caught by Aleksander standing in the doorway.

"Are you two enjoying yourself?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at both of you.

"Shouldn't you knock first before entering a lady's room?" you snort sarcastically, already annoyed by his serious, sepulchral demeanour.

"Shouldn't you be dressed already?"

"I don't like black and I'm allergic to royalty, so I'm not going," you say, crossing your arms. "And give me back my pillow."

Aleksander sighs as he throws a pillow at you, and if it wasn't for your quick reflexes, he would have punched you in the face. "Genya, wait a moment outside." he says as he enters your room and waits for the door to close behind the redhead.

You look at him defiantly with your arms crossed. "I'm not going anywhere." you declare firmly.

Aleksander sighs as he walks over to you. "Don't be a brat. I have hundreds of years of plans that will go awry if you don't do this one thing for me. So, for the sake of Grishas, put your pride in your pocket and please put on this kefta."

"And how do you know your plans are good for them?"

Ever since you arrived at the Little Palace, the subject of the fold has come up many times between you... mostly it ended with you both taking offence at each other and taking your anger out on the other.

"We'll discuss this another time. Please, Y/N." he asks. You roll your eyes but take the kefta from the bed anyway. "Thank you," he says with relief.

"I'm not doing this for you." you say coldly and walk past him, locking yourself in the bathroom to change. You hear him stand still for a moment, processing your words, before storming out of the room in anger, letting Genya inside.

You could have kept quiet about his true identity and the plans he'd revealed to you, but you weren't going to stand by his side. No matter how he tries to convince you. And after looking at yourself in the mirror and at the kefta in his colours, you come to a terrible, but true conclusion.

You looked good in black…

"Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. And she is going to free as all." Aleksander introduces you to the crowd that has gathered and the royal family. You wince slightly at the drama of his words. Fortunately, in the darkness of the shadows he has summoned, only you two can see each other now.

He stands in front of you and watches carefully as you summon several beams of light.

It must not be enough for him, because suddenly he grabs you by the wrist... and then the real show happens.

You immediately feel his amplifying powers. You feel a familiar haze of daze, a sense of power and authority as light pours out of you, burning your veins from the inside out.

You like that feeling... it scares you as much as it fascinates you. And just by looking at Aleksander's smug, almost proud face, you know he's boasting that he still has such power over you... that he can still make you shine for him.

You look each other in the eye. Each with their own emotions. This time, you can see through his eyes what he feels. Pride. Admiration... the longing hidden behind the way he stared at you and your light as if he was enchanted.

He stepped aside, facing the royal family again. You yanked your hand out of his grip and, ignoring the disgruntled frown on his face, ended the show.

You were furious. You knew why he did it. He wanted to show exactly how much power you wield. That they fear you as much as they fear him. And he succeeded. Only he looked at you unwaveringly. The rest of the crowd either looked down, whispering to each other, or stared appraisingly at you.

Then the real hell began. For an hour, you were the main attraction, entertaining the nobility with your skills and your fake origin story. You didn't know what was worse. The fact that you voluntarily became a little toy at the royal court or that the constant presence of Aleksander by your side brought you some kind of relief and you were able to survive this torture thanks to him.

And the last thing you wanted to feel about that son of a bitch was gratitude. Not after he was the reason you had to come here. Therefore, as soon as you were able to leave the Grand Palace, you decided that you would act like a child and not speak to him. To which he just smiled under his breath. His mischievous grin was still as hot as it had been hundreds of years ago. Even better with his beard and shorter hair. Damn bastard.

Just as you are about to walk back into the Little Palace, you feel his hand on your elbow. You raise a questioning eyebrow at him. He doesn't answer you. He still smirks as he leads you away from the Little Palace to a place only he knows.

You roll your eyes. Apparently, you have to speak first if you want to know where he's taking you.

"All right. You won." You huff angrily. "Where are you dragging me? My room is over there." you say, pointing to the building next to you two.

"I think you'll appreciate fresh air more than closed walls. Especially after you've been stuck there with nobles and royals for so long." you snort, not for a moment believing in his sudden concern for your well-being.

Aleksander looks around, trying to make sure you're alone. He looks at you intently for a moment. A spark of mischief in his eyes. Then, at the speed of light, he unhooks your grandmother's bracelet from your wrist and runs away with it.

You stand there for a moment in shock before you run after him. "Hey! Give it back!" you shout after the retreating shadow summoner, who laughs.

Fortunately, his black kefta is easily spotted in gardens, so you have no problem tracking it. He stops suddenly, and you bump right into him. You fall to the ground, and he is beneath you.

You can't help but snort in amusement, then laugh when you see that he's somehow gotten his cheek dirty in the earth. He smiles and giggles too. You both stop when you see how close the two of you are after you reach up to his face and brush away clods of earth with your thumb.

His dark brown eyes watch you intently. You feel yourself blush under his intense gaze. But before he reaches out to cup your cheek with his hand (and maybe raise himself up on one elbow to kiss you), you reach for your bracelet and quickly stand up.

You fasten the bracelet around your wrist with his name on it and look around. You gasp as you see that he has led you to a beautiful lake with a small island in the centre.

"Do you like it?" Aleksander whispers in your ear. You turn your head towards him, freeze when you see how close he is to you. You involuntarily lick your lips as you look into his eyes.

"That's nice." you say, and you move away from him to go to the pier.

He doesn't stay far behind. After a while, he walks beside you. You both sit on the edge, arm in arm. You take off your shoes and dip your feet in the water while playing. You feel Aleksander's eyes on you, and out of the corner of your eye, you see a smirk on his face.

"I used to want to be a tidemaker. When I was a child, I was frustrated that I couldn't use my powers in public. My grandmother used to take me to the lake, and I had only one desire while swimming..."

"To be anyone else." he finishes for you. You shift your gaze from the lake to him. He stares into the distance, as if remembering the past. "Stop being afraid of being ostracised and hated by both Ravkans and Grishas. Stop being afraid that one day your "brothers and sisters" will stand against you. Stop being a changeling."

"Yeah… something like that." you reply bitterly, shifting your gaze back to the lake. The wind blows lightly across your face, blowing strands of hair from Genya's scruffy hairstyle.

You wrinkle your nose, trying to loosen the intricate bun with braids in it. Aleksander giggles as he sees you struggle with a complicated hairstyle.

"May I?" he asks, pointing to your hair.

You raise an eyebrow at him. "You know how to… undo it?" you ask, surprised. He laughs genuinely and carelessly at your reaction, sitting down behind you. You blush slightly at the sound you've missed over the centuries.

"I have a younger sister." he says nonchalantly, starting to untangle your complicated hairstyle.

It's a good thing he's sitting behind you, or he'd have seen your mouth open in shock. Somehow, you couldn't imagine him as… a sibling.

"A sister?" you ask, too curious to let the subject go. He just croons in confirmation. Annoyingly, he untangles your tresses well. You barely feel his hand movements. "Will you tell me more about her?"

"She's almost as stubborn and irritating as you are." you snort, offended, feeling the first loose strands of hair fall down your back with relief. "Her name is Ulla."

Aleksander is not effusive. He wasn't like that even when you first met. That's why there's something… intimate about him sharing a piece of his past with you.

"So… Baghra had more of you?" you ask curious.

"Perhaps... but only I was... like her." A Shadow Summoner - you think. And deep down, you suspect that Baghra wasn't the one who looked after Ulla. Aleksander snaps you out of your thoughts as he strokes your already loose hair. "Done." he says and stands up.

"Thank you." you tell him. You stand up too and grab your shoes as you both walk off the pier.

"And you?" he asks, walking beside you. "Any siblings to tease?" you snort in amusement as you put on your shoes.

"No. My mother died… quite early and I never knew my father."

"You never wanted to meet him?" he asks curiously. You know why. He never knew his father either… you wonder if he ever wanted to meet him himself…

"No." you speak quickly, sure of your answer. "I had a grandmother. I didn't need anyone else."

"Had?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. You sigh, involuntarily playing with the bracelet on your wrist.

"She died." you speak calmly… in an empty tone learned over the years, betraying no emotion.

After so many centuries, Aleksander knew there was no point in saying I'm sorry. Not for you. He knew that the last thing you would expect in such a situation were words so empty or full of feigned regret, often repeated by people. He decided to go with a rather safer and definitely more meaningful question for the people in your situation.

"When?"

"Centuries ago." silence fell between the two of you, and realisation hit Aleksander. You were utterly alone. For so many centuries. You didn't have anyone standing by your side.

If Aleksander was sure you'd let him, he'd lock you in his embrace and not let you go until he's sure you know he'll always be there for you... that he's been your shelter whether you love, like, or hate him with all your heart. He would always be there for you.

You change the subject, trying to avoid his questions. Fortunately, he doesn't insist. For a moment, you're back to those kids who met hundreds of years ago. Only Aleksander and Y/N. No summoners of shadows or sun. And you can't help feeling how easy it is to get into that old routine with him.

However, everything changes when you are back on the palace grounds. You feel Grishas' heavy, hopeful, admiring eyes on you again. And you feel overwhelmed by your new role. You were not a saint. You were not a hero or a person who changed the world.

And by the soft smile on Aleksander's face, you're reminded that the man you were talking to so freely and openly just a moment ago wants it all. He wants you to stand by his side and change the world... not necessarily for the better for everyone.

"I guess I didn't get a chance to tell you sooner, but you look lovely, by the way." he says, looking at you. The black kefta suddenly weighs heavily on you more than before… and explains the soft whispers of some Grishas.

You roll your eyes. You suddenly remembered why you couldn't trust him. And you mentally chastised yourself for letting him manipulate you. You had to raise your walls again. "I know you too well and I'm too old to be seduced by you."

"I thought you were too smart for that?" he is teasing you, remembering what you said to him the first time you met. You look around to make sure that no one can hear your conversation.

"I was wise. Before I met the Black Heretic and let my guard down." it is obvious from the slight furrow of his brow in anger that he does not like the nickname. You make a mental note to call him that way more often when you're alone.

"There was a time when names didn't matter to us. Where all you cared about was the real me. Not the way others saw me." he says, and if you were still that naive girl, you'd think you saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"You're right. At that time, I never imagined you would turn out to be..."

"I'm still the same man, Y/N..." he interrupts you with obvious hurt in his eyes. You both stop in front of the door of the Little Palace. Aleksander tries to read in your eyes where this sudden change of mood and coldness come from. "As you are the same wonan."

"No." you shake your head. "I'm not. And the boy I knew and loved died hundreds of years ago in the fold."

You see your words hurt him. And for a brief moment, he lets you see right through his eyes. He lets you see the pain and the tears that threatened to run down his cheeks.

But he doesn't let his emotions take over. You both live too long not to be able to hide them whenever you want... but that doesn't mean it hurts any less.

"What a pity... If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

You watch his receding silhouette with a heavy heart, and you can't help but wonder… did you two really seem so different after all?

You shake your head. NO. You couldn't fall into the arms of a man who took everything you knew, your last shelter... and you didn't want to admit to yourself that you still had TWO known arms that could be your shelter... Unfortunately for you, they were wearing a black kefta, symbolising his shadows.

All you remember is a scream.

A loud, soul-piercing scream.

Actually, not one. Not short. Not temporary.

And with the screams came darkness. A darkness that made people lose sight of their loved ones. It didn't matter if it was Grisha or Otkazat'sya. Everyone died. One after the another.

No one knew from where, in a few seconds, shadows appeared instead of a clear sky and sun. All that could be seen in the shadow fold were only the fingers on your hands.

And after a while, they joined the shadows. Human-eating creatures. Volcra.

You were running ahead with a light orb in your hand. Beside you was your grandmother, shooing the creatures away.

You ran together, trying to find a way out of the vast sea of shadows that surrounded you. At some point, a scared group of people started running straight at you, trying to get as close to your light as possible and hide. You split up, trying to lose the crowd of people who might remember your faces. But you couldn't leave them alone. You created a great orb of light and left the people behind, making sure the orb would follow them.

As you offered to help others, you paid little attention to your surroundings. Volcra surrounded you, and one of them lunged at you from behind. You'd be dead... if your grandmother hadn't thrown herself in front of you. But before she could create a sufficient orb of light, the volcra struck her in the heart.

Your scream mingled with the screams of the people around you. Grandmother's blood mixed with the blood of others. You kneeled by her until the end… until she gave you her amplifier, and with the last of her strength, she used all her power to illuminate the area around you, killing the nearest volcras.

You were completely alone in the darkness of the fold. Tears dripped from your eyes onto your cheeks and bleed the earth beneath you, your screams of despair slowly becoming the only audible sound in the fold.

You were all alone.

You flinched as you felt a hand on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, waiting for the volcra to attack as usual in this particular dream, but nothing came...

Nothing but a warm embrace and a familiar scent that you only associated with security and safety.

With tears in your eyes, you threw yourself into Aleksander's arms, crying into his chest. And you couldn't help but shiver as his hands stroked your back, pressing you tight against his chest as he kissed the top of your head.

"You're not alone." he whispered, holding you close to him. And for a brief moment, you wanted it all to be real...

Wandering around the Little Palace at night turned out to be something that did not bring you peace. Contrary. After overhearing a conversation between a pair of guard soldiers, you storm Aleksander's chambers, furious, frustrated, angry, and… disappointed.

You don't bother knocking or stopping at the soldiers guarding his chambers… you wonder for a moment why they even let you into his chambers late at night, but decide to think about it another time while you focus on the rage bubbling inside you.

You stormed into his war room and if it weren't for the late hour and the fact that you didn't want to wake anyone else but him, you would have slammed the door loudly behind you.

Then you see him. The object of all your negative feelings. The reason for all your anger and hurt… Grandmother was right, he should have been kicked in the ass and left to freeze to death in that lake while there was still a chance to get rid of him.

He stands before his war table, where there are maps, soldier figures, and something that looks like a fold. He drinks kvass. You send a little prayer to the saints, hoping that one day he'll choke on it.

"Aleksander." you say, warning him of your arrival before you unleash hell.

He looks at you with a slight shock that gives way to something like a sense of awe and adoration, as if he is trying to keep in his memory the way you look right now. You're suddenly very aware of your black and gold nightgown, which reveals more of your skin than he's ever seen. You could have changed into something else if you've already wanted to yell at him… or at least put on a bathrobe.

And with those puppy eyes he gives you, he almost melts your heart… almost.

"We need to talk." you say in a cool tone, trying not to give your emotions away.

"Of course. Come in. Do you want something to drink?" it annoys you. His calmness and composure when anger is burning inside you more than ever… and for some unknown reason you feel betrayed… as if you couldn't foresee that he is exactly like any man.

"No, I… You know. Give it." you say, taking a glass of kvass from him and drinking it all down. He raises an eyebrow in surprise but doesn't comment. Good for him. You decide to go straight to the heart of the matter. "Are all your female Grishas are whores for the royal family or just Genya?" you ask in an accusatory tone.

He widens his eyes, not expecting such a question. He takes the glass from you and puts it on the table. Then he turns his gaze back to you and speaks in that damn calm tone.

"Y/N... You don't understand..."

"YOU KNOW how much we suffered at the hand of the king, and yet you sent that poor girl there? And you told her to be his whore? IN THE NAME OF WHAT, Aleksander?!" you explode. Aleksander's head flies to the closed door.

Very good - you think. You want the bastard to worry about someone overhearing you... you're not sure you'll even tell him that you asked the soldiers (with all the politeness and composure you have left) to go check on the commotion in the gardens. By the time they realise there's nothing going on, you'll be done here long ago... or you'll have to hide their general's body. You don't know how it's going to end yet.

"Shh! Someone will hear." he tries to silence you and walks to the door, closing it.

"DO NOT SHUSH ME! I don't care what your plans are, but I am taking Genya out of there once and for good. And nobody can stop me."

"Y/N... please let's talk calmly." he says as he slowly walks over to you to stand in front of you.

"Do you want to talk calmly? Fine. I am calmly informing you that Genya is returning to the Little Palace and getting her own kefta. Not some white servant shit you made her wear."

"Genya's service is part of the great plan of things she willingly agreed to." Killing the king. You finish for him in your head, linking the king's increasingly deteriorating health to a mad heretic's grand plan.

You may have been different, but you knew each other's thoughts and ways of acting. It doesn't change that quickly over time… even if he has given himself more to his darkness and you more to your light. But hell will take you if you agree with his way of working…

"Because she had no other choice! You say you despise the king and everything his ancestors did to us, and that's what you are, doing exactly the same thing, if not worse, to your own people who are as loyal and faithful as dogs to you!"

You yelled furiously at him, and from the crease on his forehead and the hurt look in his eyes that turned to anger when you compared him to a king, you knew that there would be a war between the two of you today.

"You have no idea what's going on! You have no idea why I do what I do. You come here, accuse me of the worst, and make childish claims! Maybe you should finally wake up and see that, actually, I am the only one who does anything for our people, even if it means going to the worst!" you bit your lip in anger.

You both knew where to hit each other so that it hurt the most. You in his immoral, dubious ways of acting to win this eternal war for the good of the Grishas, and him in your passivity and hiding for centuries. But you're not giving this bastard the privilege of having the last word.

"And that's a very beautiful transition to the second topic, which is the fold and your plans to expand it. What is it? Another necessary evil? Do you know how many lives it has taken? Not just Otkazat'syas."

He laughs bitterly and licks his lips as you return to your most divisive topic. "Your obsession with the fold is naive."

You growl angrier at him. Only he was able to drive you crazy with one look, comment, or mocking smile. Good for him that you had similar power over him... otherwise, you would probably have tried to scratch his eyes out long ago.

"The fold took everything from me! From us all!"

"You think I don't know that? That I'm not reminded of it at my every single step?! That I forgot that I created it?! NO Y/N! I remember it perfectly! I remember the king's men chasing us and wanting to kill us like dogs, I remember the Fjerdans and Shu kidnapping and killing them either out of hatred or experimenting on us, I remember all of that, Y/N! You weren't there! You don't know why it happened, why I had to do what I did."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe I don't know why, but I was there when the shadows started to cover the ground, when the innocent people living in the territory of the emerging fold started turning into volcra because a certain shadow summoner decided to play a saint!"

He seems taken aback by your words, but he quickly puts his mask on his face. He turns his back on you and walks over to the war table, staring at the map, speaking in a calm, emotionless voice this time.

"You should leave now."

"We didn't finish..." he cuts you off before you can say anything else. With every word he says, the frustration and anger in his voice get clearer. The room is darkened by his shadows.

"The disclosure of your existence has brought our enemies ever closer to the border. An uprising is brewing in the west, led by a general of the First Army. Our own people in Ravka are against us. Our resources are dwindling, the noose is tightening, and our own people are turning against Grisha just like the king once did. The last thing I need right now is to argue with you. So leave. And let me continue fighting this war alone."

You don't know why you're doing it or what drives you, but you walk over to him and grab his hand. You both don't control the power flowing within you, so when your skin touches his, you feel him amplify your powers. You create a bubble of pure white light around you that dispels his shadows.

It's like at the throne room again. The two of you are staring at each other as your white light surrounds you. Only this time, Aleksander doesn't look at you like a capture or booty; there's not a single trace of pride or annoyance on his face, as you feared.

No...

He looks at you as the last light in the darkness of his soul. A reminder that he is not alone and that as long as you are by his side, his shadows will never consume him like in his worst nightmares. You were here. Next to him. Holding his hand in yours and shining like the last star in his dark sky devoid of hope.

For a moment, he was transported back to those times when, hundreds of years ago, you were both there for each other, alleviating all insecurities, sorrows, and dilemmas without even knowing each other's names. Just being there for another similar lost and lonely soul... not much has changed in those few centuries.

You'd tell him you missed him but you don't know how...

And he was dying to know if this aloofness and mistrust were killing you as much as they were killing him.

You let go of his hand. The light around you slowly faded away, leaving the two of you in darkness as you stared enchanted at each other.

"What are you doing?" he asks in a whisper, never taking his eyes off yours. The anger is gone from both you and him. You just stare at each other, both of you unable to take your eyes off the other.

You did not know what you were doing. Really. Aleksander had a tendency to make you do inexplicable things…

He knew you were as lost as him. So many centuries on earth, and none of you have yet learned… how to live. Hundreds of years and you still felt like lost children in the mist, trying to control everything around you, pretending to others that you were in control or knew perfectly what you were doing.

That's why he didn't question your lack of response. Or that you stayed in the dark, staring through each other for a moment longer. Both of you feel that for the first time in hundreds of long years, you are facing someone who is facing similar demons.

One thing was sure.

You have never heard silence speaking about dormant feelings quite this loudly.

"You're not alone." you repeat his words from your dream, involuntarily wondering for a moment if you still haunt him in his dreams as well. The look of his dark brown eyes, focusing only on you, is too overwhelming for you to take it much longer. You look away for a moment, then take your gaze back at him, giving him a small smile. "Someone has to undermine those perfect plans of yours from time to time. We don't want your ego to grow so big that it can't be contained in this palace, do we, General?" you ask jokingly and smile as you hear something like an amused snort from him.

He leans towards you and you gasp in surprise. Gently, he brushes the hair behind your ear with his fingertips. You shiver slightly at the small, almost non-existent touch of his skin against yours.

"No… we don't want to." he whispers, staring at you for a few more moments before pulling away and introducing you to the situation.

Darkness surrounds the two of you as you both talk. The only source of light is your little orbs floating above the war table. And for the first time, both of you feel at peace.

Neither of you were alone anymore.

And you both feel in this moment some kind of peace and relief...

At least until a messenger came running in the very dawn with a letter from the colonel of the Second Army…

The Fjerdans attacked.

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 9 months

Text

Francis Drake Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors. I didn't proofread this.

The historical figures who were resurrected as vampires have made contracts with Comte, except for Napoleon.

Napoleon was revived against his will, without a contract, and had become a being with both human and vampire traits.

Comte: "Based on what I've heard, it's possible that Drake arrived at the mansion through the same circumstances as Napoleon did."

Comte: "Although it's still a mystery how historical figures can come back to life as sort of half-vampires, even if they didn't ask for it."

Drake: "Hold on."

Drake raised his hand to stop Comte.

Drake: "I can accept that this is the 19th century, but all this talk about resurrections and vampires is getting crazy. Can you at least tell me more about what's happening?"

Drake, who had been smiling nonchalantly, looked confused.

Napoleon: "I understand how you feel."

Mitsuki: "Me too..."

(When I came to the mansion, I couldn't keep up with all the unrealistic stories either.)

I totally understand how Drake felt.

Feeling sympathetic, I decided to make a suggestion to Comte.

Mitsuki: "Comte, I think we need to explain the situation."

Mitsuki: "And since he doesn't have a place to go, why don't we let him stay at the mansion for a while?"

Drake: "........."

It would have taken at least another month for the door to open again. Even when it did, there was no guarantee it would be stable.

Considering the recent abnormalities in the door, he's lucky he was able to reach the mansion.

And if Drake was supposed to have died in his original time, he may have no place to return to.

Even though it wasn't my problem, just thinking about it made my heart tighten.

Mozart: "Are you crazy? This pirate just attacked us out of nowhere."

Arthur: "I can't say I don't understand the situation. Of course, attacking Mitsuki was unforgivable, but I'm also worried about letting him roam freely."

Dazai: "He's right. It would be a problem if he got a sudden bloodlust and bit someone on the street."

Drake: "Wait, there's a possibility I could turn into some sort of wild animal? Me?"

Sebastian: "On that note, we have both Rouge and Blanc here in the mansion. They should help manage both your meals and impulses."

Napoleon, who had fought with Drake, glanced at him.

Napoleon: "I can't sense any hostile intentions from him anymore. If this guy does something weird, we'll do something about it."

Napoleon: "Right, Jean?"

Jean: "Of course."

Drake: "You guys are reliable yet intimidating."

Napoleon and Jean nodded to each other, and everyone's gaze turned to Comte.

Leonardo: "What's your decision, Comte?"

Comte: "........."

Comte: "Drake, can you promise not to harm anyone?"

Drake: "Yeah, sure. If you're worried, you can keep an eye on me."

Comte nodded in response and untied the rope binding Drake.

Comte: "Then I welcome you. Maybe you came to this mansion guided by something."

Arthur: "A miraculous and fateful encounter, perhaps?"

Drake: "Seems like an overly dramatic fate to me."

Drake: "Anyway, sorry for the terrible first impression. I'll be in your care from now on, so let's all get along."

Drake chuckled, and I couldn't help but relax along with him.

(He doesn't seem like a bad person.)

Mitsuki: "If there's anything I can do to help, please let me know."

Drake: "You're such a kind-hearted person."

And so, a new resident joined our mansion.

That night, after the sudden turn of events, I found myself on my bed, flipping through a book I'd brought from the library.

Mitsuki: "I wonder if it's in here. Ah, here it is."

I flipped through the book titled "Historical Figures Who Moved the World" and found the page about the person I was looking for.

The title was Francis Drake, Hero of the Sea. A page dedicated to Drake.

(Sebastian sometimes scolded me for being clueless, so I should at least learn something about Drake since we're going to live together from now on.)

The book mainly recorded Drake's accomplishments.

("He was the second person in history to circumnavigate the world. Queen Elizabeth awarded him the title of knight for his achievements during the voyage.")

(He discovered the Drake Passage during his voyage. Come to think of it, I've seen it on the map!)

I was surprised to learn that the famous landmark on the map was named after him.

At the same time, it was mentioned that he had committed numerous acts of piracy, such as attacking enemy ships and looting valuables.

(For his homeland, he was a hero, but for someone else, he was an enemy. He lived his life amid conflict.)

I couldn't help but feel the light and shadow of history after learning the background of this historical figure.

As I continued reading, I found a description that caught my attention.

Mitsuki: "After his death due to illness, his body was placed in a lead coffin and submerged in the sea."

Mitsuki: "A sea burial?"

(History says he died and was laid to rest.)

(I wonder if something happened at that time that caused him to come back to life like Napoleon?)

I closed the book I had finished reading and lay down on the sheets.

(I never thought someone would come through that door.)

He didn't seem anxious or troubled, but he's in an unfamiliar place, so he might still face some challenges.

With that in mind, I fell asleep.

The next morning一

Drake: "Morning, little fawn."

Mitsuki: "G-Good morning, Drake."

When I came to the dining room in the morning, Drake greeted me cheerfully.

However, there was something that caught my attention.

(Does he mean me when he says little fawn?)

Mitsuki: "Um, Drake, my name is..."

Drake: "Hm? Isn't it Mitsuki? Am I wrong?"

Mitsuki: "No, you're right!"

However, what caught my attention even more was Napoleon slumped over the table beside me.

Mitsuki: "Good morning, Napoleon. You're up early today."

Napoleon: "I didn't sleep."

Mitsuki: "Huh!?"

Drake: "Haha! Last night was fun."

Apparently, after that incident, Drake received some explanations from Comte.

Comte told him that the door could potentially connect at any point in time as long as it was working normally.

He also told him about the vampire's nature and that this mansion was home to historical figures from various eras and nations.

After that, Napoleon spent the night with Drake, serving as both his guard and companion.

Drake: "Our situations are pretty similar, so I had a lot of questions for him."

Napoleon: "Then we got carried away and ended up talking all night."

Sebastian: "I heard they chatted the whole night. It would've been cool to eavesdrop on their conversation!"

Sebastian, who came out of the kitchen, offered Napoleon a warm cup of tea instead of coffee.

Drake: "Napoleon was not only a military commander, but also the Emperor of France. No wonder he's so strong."

Napoleon: "Stop teasing me."

Drake playfully slapped Napoleon on the shoulder, and Napoleon, with his eyes half-closed, swayed sleepily.

(Napoleon is a heavy sleeper, so he must have been tired.)

(It feels like they've gotten a lot closer.)

Napoleon: "I'm at my limit. I'll leave this guy to you."

Mitsuki: "Okay. Good night, Napoleon."

Napoleon stood up and left the dining room unsteadily.

After seeing Napoleon off, Drake let out a big yawn.

Drake: "Fuwah. I'm getting sleepy too."

Drake: "But before that, I'm hungry."

(This guy is so straightforward when it comes to his desires.)

(But come to think of it, he's also half like Napoleon, so he's probably hungry too.)

Sebastian: "I'll prepare breakfast. Please wait a moment."

Drake: "Sure. So you guys are on cooking duty?"

Mitsuki: "Yup. Is there anything specific you want to eat this morning?"

Drake: "Let's see."

Drake: "Blood."

(What!?)

Drake: "Just kidding. I thought vampires could only drink blood, but I'm glad they can eat regular food too."

(He said it so seriously that it caught me off guard.)

Drake: "I'll leave breakfast up to you."

Mitsuki: "Okay. Then I'll make pancakes!"

Drake: "It's nice to have a meal without any trouble. On the ship, there's always a bunch of hungry men fighting over food."

Drake: "Plus, it's great to have a pretty girl like you cooking for me."

Mitsuki: "You're quite the smooth talker, aren't you?"

As I responded, feeling a bit flustered, Theo suddenly chimed in.

Theo: "Are you also a flirt like Arthur?"

Vincent: "Good morning, Mitsuki, Sebas, and Drake."

Theo and Vincent came to the dining room.

Drake: "Let's see, you guys are the famous Van Gogh brothers, right?"

Drake: "The angel brother and the devil brother, as Arthur said."

Vincent: "I often hear that, but I think Theo is the real angel."

Theo: "B-Broer."

Drake: "Haha! Vincent, you're such a doting older brother."

(He interacts with anyone so casually.)

It might be a little unusual for someone to get so close to others in this mansion.

Theo: "Hey, Drake. Don't call him that so casually."

Drake: "Oh, then Vincent big bro."

Mitsuki ▪︎ Theo: "Vincent big bro!?"

Hearing him say that to Vincent made both Theo and me yell unintentionally.

Vincent: "Big bro. Fufu, it's refreshing to hear that since no one called me that before."

Drake: "It looks like he likes it."

Theo: "Rejected! And stop being so happy about it, broer."

Sebastian: "Drake has incredible social skills."

Mitsuki: "Pffft…ahahaha!"

I couldn't help but burst out laughing as I caught Sebastian secretly taking notes in his diary.

For some reason, after finishing his pancakes, Drake started arranging the chairs in a perfect row.

Drake: "*yawn* I'm really sleepy. I'll just take a quick nap. Nighty night."

Mitsuki: "Hey, Drake! You can't sleep here!"

Drake: "Huh, I can't? Then I'll sleep on the floor."

Mitsuki: "That's not allowed either!"

(We shouldn't encourage more people to sleep anywhere like Leonardo!)

Mitsuki: "Sebastian, is there any unused room available?"

Sebastian: "I'll need to confirm with Comte first, though if ever there is, it might not be clean."

Sebastian: "Let me show you to the guest room for now. Mitsuki, please help me prepare it."

After preparing the guest room for him to lie down, he nodded and smiled, saying it was more than enough.

Mitsuki: "Then, take your time and relax, Drake."

Drake: "Hmm. Thanks for going through the trouble, Sebastian and Mitsuki."

Just as I was about to leave the room after Sebastian一

Mitsuki: "Waah!"

He suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the room.

He pressed me against the wall, and his face came close to mine, his eyes cold.

Drake: "Hey, Mitsuki. Did you tame everyone in this mansion with your blood?"

Previous Part ╎ Side Story 1 ╎ Next Part

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp drake #ikevamp francis #ikevamp #ikevamp jp #francis drake #ikevamp translations #cybird

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almost-a-class-act · 5 months

Text

For @mutantmanifesto - I hope you weren't kidding about liking the zombie AU! Happy birthday my friend, here's some NSFW luztoye.

Joe hears him coming up the stairs long before he reaches the doorway to their bedroom. He thinks George does it on purpose, these days - makes enough noise that Joe has plenty of forewarning. He doesn't exactly know why, but he guesses it has something to do with his own propensity for being on his own since the bite.

You won't be alone in a second, those footsteps say. Put your sad shit away.

Which is uncharitable, probably. (Definitely.) But the thought fits itself into place anyway and won't be dislodged.

"Hey." George pushes open the mostly-closed door and spots Joe sitting on the bed. He'd been doing the physio the Doc had told him to try, but it's exhausting and frustrating and sometimes he doesn't have it in him to finish.

Sometimes he sits by himself, not bored or upset or anything else, just - foggy. Just gazing into space. George never knows what to do with that, so Joe pretends he hasn't been doing it.

"Hey," he replies. "Just finishing my stretching."

George purposefully closes the door behind him and ambles closer, overly casual. "How's that going?"

"It's fine."

"Fine, huh." It's a game they play at this point, Joe saying nothing that matters and George playing along. Joe knows it's destroying them. He can't tell if George does, too. Neither of them do anything about it, and the game continues. "That's good. You, uh. Want to come down to dinner?"

Joe shakes his head. "I'll come get something later." When there's no one around.

George regards him for a moment. He never used to hang back like this. Joe wishes he would cut it out, but you can't call out someone else's reaction unless you want them to call out yours. "Can we talk for a second?"

Joe takes a breath. "About what?"

George has one of those faces not cut out for this kind of conversation. Joe keeps expecting him to smile, even when it doesn't make sense. "Kind of feel like we hit a wall, Joe."

Joe eyes him, and then drops his gaze to the bedspread. "Yeah."

"I know it's not me," George says. "At least, I think it's not me - that you're sick of me, I mean." He hesitates. "You can tell me if I'm wildly misinterpreting and you want me to fuck off."

"It's not you," Joe grinds out.

"Yeah, good. That's good." There's the smile Joe had been expecting. There's more relief in it than he'd like there to be. "I thought maybe... I don't know. Maybe it's stupid. But I thought we could try something."

Joe doesn't know what that means, but he has an inkling of where it's going. "George."

"I know you don't want me to touch you." The words sting, even though there's nothing unkind in George's tone. Joe hadn't articulated as much to himself, but the dread that rose up every time George reached for him over the past little while is familiar, a bitter taste in the back of his throat.

"Not just you," he rasps, which is pitifully not enough, but he needs George to know that it's not him specifically that makes Joe nauseous at the idea of someone learning his body the way it is now.

"Well, I figured you didn't have a line-up of compact but incredibly charming radio techs coming by while I wasn't here," George says, with that crinkle of laughter at the corner of his eyes that is one of Joe's favourite things in the world.

He thinks about reaching for him, but can't make himself do it. "Thought I'd handle something like this better than I am," he admits.

"I don't think any of us know how we'd handle weapons-grade terrible shit happening to us until it happens," George tells him. "Can you imagine me? I'd be insufferable. A hundred and sixty jokes a minute, at least."

"You think you could double it?" Joe asks. "Without losing quality?"

George looks so deeply pleased that Joe had joked with him that it cracks him open a little, makes him easier to read - makes the exhaustion more plain on his face. "If I'm lucky, we'll never find out."

Joe hesitates. He doesn't want to do ask the question, but he also knows that there's nothing to be gained by kicking the can down the road. He can't guarantee that things will get better in a week, or two weeks, or a month, and he's never been someone who avoids the difficult things. "What's your something that you want to try?"

"I thought..." George sniffs, wrinkling his nose. There's that over-casualness again. "Would you just want to watch?"

Joe freezes. "Watch?" he echoes. The back of his neck feels hot.

"Yeah. You know..." The two of them are very different in some ways, but very alike in others. George looks uncomfortable to be saying this, and Joe recognizes that he would probably rather chew his arm off than get through the words. The fact that he's doing it anyway means he thinks it's important. "It's been almost three weeks since we sprung you from the hospital, and it's been pretty quiet on the intimacy front."

It's been dead silent, actually. Joe lets him hold his hand sometimes, but they inevitably wake up on the far side of the bed from each other. Joe's not even sure they've kissed since he woke up from his surgery, if that's what you'd call the butchery the Doc had had to figure out on the fly to save his life.

"I..." He swallows. Fuck me. He's not a coward. Neither of them are. If George is putting the effort in, so can he. "Yeah. That might be - okay."

George's shoulders go heavy with relief. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Joe has never just watched before, and he's not about to ask whether George has ever jerked off for an audience. He figures maybe it's better if they both pretend that they know what they're doing, so he reaches behind him to readjust the pillow and eases himself back to sit against the headboard, in that tentative way he does everything now that his leg fucking kills if he so much as jogs it.

George watches him get settled, something a little hungry in his eyes, and then slowly climbs to his feet. There's no preamble, no putting on a show as he unbuttons his jeans, unzips, and pushes them down. Joe's glad for that; the unbearable awkwardness in being the person having a show put on for them aside, in this situation where this is happening because Joe can't participate, not because either of them specifically thought this would be hot, he doesn't want it to feel fake, like a performance.

"There are a lot of lights on here," George jokes, sitting back down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear now.

"I don't remember you getting stage fright," Joe returns.

George grins. "You're right. I changed my mind. Get me a spotlight."

Joe doesn't laugh. "Take your shirt off," he suggests.

George gets that hungry look again so fast that Joe realizes it's been there since earlier, lurking behind the other things. He reaches behind his head and hauls that t-shirt off in one motion, tossing it onto the bed behind him.

Joe has seen him get undressed for bed in the past few weeks, of course, but this is not that, and the way Joe looks at him seems to give George the spur-on he needs to palm himself lightly through his boxers. Joe doesn't say anything, both of them zeroed in on George's hand, and the latter doesn't hesitate, pushing it under his waistband.

The outline in his underwear, the movement that takes shape beneath, makes it clear when he has his fingers wrapped around himself in the way he likes. Joe's throat goes dry at that soft sound George makes, almost pained, like it's been a little while.

"Let me see," he murmurs.

"Yeah?" George's hand is already moving smoothly, rhythmically, under that dark fabric, Joe's eyes on it and George's eyes on him. When he tugs his waistband down a little with his other hand so that he can pull himself free, Joe swallows at the way he's already half-hard, those fingers wrapped so securely around himself, specific and practiced, from all the years he's done this alone, all the times he had figured out how to get himself off as efficiently as possible.

"You want to help me out?" George asks, nodding at the drawer next to the bed, and Joe leans over without taking his eyes off him. He tosses the lube, and George knocks it down with his free hand, fetching it up off the duvet and flipping it open in one motion. He lets go of himself long enough to squirt a haphazard amount into his palm, and then he's slicking himself down, that hand twisting slowly.

"You look good," Joe manages, almost on a delay; he'd been so focused that it almost surprises him to hear his own voice. He adjusts himself a little awkwardly - this a problem he probably should have foreseen, but he's gotten himself accustomed to not feeling much of anything lately - and George is good enough not to mention it.

"I got good at doing this quick, out there," George says, bracing himself back on one palm so that Joe can see better, fixing those eyes on his face as if to make sure he's watching.

As if Joe could look anywhere else.

"Not like this," Joe remarks.

"Nope." George smooths his thumb over the head of his cock, making his own voice falter for just a second. "Sort of forgot I could take my time."

"You ever do anything else?" Joe asks.

"What, like finger myself?" George asks it like it won't make Joe's hands twitch, and he smiles slowly when it does. "Maybe once or twice. Not as good as someone else doing it for you, though."

If Joe could touch him without George touching him, he would. It makes him curl his fingers into fists in his lap.

"I want to," he rasps.

"I know." George's pace has picked up a little, his eyes gone darker.

"I wish..." He swallows around it, that ache of want that he can't act on.

"Tell me."

It hangs in the air between them, until Joe makes himself speak.

"I want you like that first time."

George ducks his head with a quiet fuck. "Yeah," he murmurs. "That was a good one."

It hadn't taken long - in fact, it had been the night George had come to the compound for the first time, after Joe had found him in the mall. Both of them were starved for it; Joe had had him up against the wall the moment they were alone, George urging him on with a grin and that big mouth of his.

"You wanted it so damn bad," Joe murmurs, and George has to sit up a little straighter, renewing his grip on himself.

"Not just me."

"Nah, not just you." Joe watches him sweep at precum with his thumb, dragging it down the shaft. He can't help but grind his own hand down onto himself through his jeans, trying to get enough friction to feel relief.

"I did fuckin' want it, though." George sounds less steady than before. "The second I saw you. Tall, dark, and built like you could put me through a wall. My favourite."

"Like I couldn't tell."

George spares him a glance, mischievous. "I would've let you fuck me in that RadioShack if I hadn't come too far to get my brain eaten over some good-looking stranger who didn't shoot me on sight."

"Only you would talk about brain eating right now," Joe mutters, prompting George to grin and then squeeze his eyes shut as his own hand briefly loses rhythm. He picks it back up, faster than before.

"Hey, Joe?" The tendons in his forearm stand out, and he's focused down on himself now; Joe takes advantage of it, to watch without being watched, to let himself want.

"Yeah, gorgeous."

"God. No fucking fair." George almost chokes it out. "You know how much I like that."

Joe does know, as it happens. "What were you going to tell me?"

George doesn't say anything for a moment, the only sound the movement of his hand. "Say it again," he manages at last, like he's straining to coordinate his thoughts. "That you want me like that first time."

"I want you like every time," Joe says hoarsely. "God, George. I always want you."

George gasps, a seam of sound in the bottom of it, and then he comes. His body curves around his hand, and he ignores the splash up his stomach and chest, maybe doesn't even notice, tugging himself through it.

When it's over, he gently unwraps his fingers and leans back, bracing himself on his elbows, still breathing too fast. Joe hesitates, and then reaches out.

George looks at his hand, then up at his face. "You want me to...?"

"No," Joe says. He's not ready for that yet. "I just - come here."

George nods, sitting up and tucking himself back into his underwear before he reaches for his shirt.

"Here," Joe says, and George passes it to him, crawling obligingly up to kneel next to him so that Joe can wipe him clean. When it's done, George sits against the headboard next to him, and Joe takes his hand.

The silence is much, much easier than before.

George glances his way. "That okay?"

Joe nods. "I - yeah."

George tightens his grip for a moment, warm. "Okay."

Joe is so damn grateful they're good at first times.

#band of brothers #fanfiction #roaroftheninth #luztoye

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claudemblems · 2 years

Text

Treating Wounds | Eren Yeager

Summary: You treat Eren’s wounds unknowingly for the last time. Eren has already put his plans into place, but he has the selfish wish of sharing one last night with you.

Notes: SURPRISE I have written an Eren imagine for you all!! I felt like it's been a while since I've written for AOT and I wanted to fix that :.) This was supposed to be super fluffy but it turned out kinda angsty instead. Still, I hope you're able to enjoy it!!! Writing something different is a nice change of pace.

"I'm fine, [Name]. These are just a few scratches and bruises."

"And bite marks. I know you have to transform sometimes during fights, but you don't have to bite all the way down to your bone!"

Eren could only laugh in response as you shook your head, wondering aloud how your boyfriend managed to be so smart yet so reckless at the same time. You would have scolded him further if you weren't so focused on patching him up. Besides, it was hard to argue with him when he was smiling down at you so fondly. Instead, you pushed your complaints to the side and continued your work.

"You know," Eren began, holding out his hand so you could apply salve to it, "this reminds me of when we first met."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'd seen you a few times during training, but we'd never had the chance to properly meet. It wasn't until I was pretty banged up from trying to master the maneuver gear that you approached me. You wore a look that's pretty similar to the one you're giving me now." You rolled your eyes and swatted his arm, Eren grinning at you as you did so. "If I remember correctly, you told me I needed to learn my limits if I was going to survive to fight actual titans."

"Well, you're terribly stubborn, Eren. If I kept letting you mess around with the gear, you'd probably have ended up with one too many concussions."

"I suppose I have you to thank, then."

"Mhm. You're welcome."

Despite your no-nonsense tone, Eren could tell you were holding back a laugh. You always tried to look the part of a serious, level-headed leader, but you were only human, after all. There were bound to be moments where your real feelings shone through.

He wondered what kind of expression you’d make when he eventually left you behind.

It sounded like a harsh thing to do, and truthfully, it would be. But it was for your sake. For the island’s. He wouldn’t drag you into the oncoming war more than he had to.

He already knew how’d you react. You’d stare down at his letter, flames of anger burning in your eyes as you read through its contents. After everything you’ve done for him, after all the hell you two had gone through, he would toss you away like you’d never mattered to him at all.

Could he really do that to you?

He loved you enough to. It was the only way to keep you safe.

“Eren?”

He was pulled from his thoughts as he looked upon your furrowed brows and pursed lips. He hadn’t even left for battle yet and he was already starting to worry you. This wouldn’t work. For this mission to succeed, he needed to throw you off his trail.

“Sorry. My dad’s memories came flooding in again.”

“Goodness, Eren. When will you drop the burden you’ve put on your own shoulders?” You sighed but continued to gently clean the wound. Eren watched on, observing how you bit the corner of your lip in concentration. He held back a smile. He’d pointed out your habit several times before, chuckling lightly as you blushed and denied every bit of it. He could never figure out what was so embarrassing, but the red blooming in your cheeks made him want to tease you over and over again.

He would miss your shy expressions when he left.

“Stop trying to do everything by yourself, Eren. You have me. You have all of us. We’re your friends, and we care about you. So, please…let us in.”

You stopped dabbing at his wound, directing your eyes into something in the distance. Eren watched how they clouded and tears pricked at their edges like rain.

“[Name]...”

Eren gasped as you fell into his arms, clutching onto his torso. “Eren, don’t make me suffer like this. Don’t lie to me. Tell me when you’re feeling sad, when you’re unsure of the future, when you’ve given up all hope. I’m here. I can’t bear to watch you close in on yourself. I love you too much.”

If he wasn’t preparing to break your heart, Eren would have allowed himself to cry. But this was a test. If he couldn’t keep a stoic face now while you sobbed into him, he would falter later on. He had to keep it together, for both of your sakes.

“Don’t cry for me…I don’t deserve your tears.”

You whipped your head up towards him, anger flaring in your eyes. “You don’t get to tell me how I ought to feel towards you! You could at least have some sympathy for your girlfriend crying her eyes out because of you! Don’t you feel anything seeing me this way? Have you grown tired of me? Have you had enough? Am I not special to you anymore—”

Eren silenced you with the warmth of his arms wrapping around your back, pushing you against his chest. Here you could feel how fast his heart was beating, a contrast to his nonchalant facade.

“Of course it hurts to watch you cry, especially for someone as undeserving of your tears as I am. Eliminating all the titans was supposed to make us all have happy lives, but it seems like suffering just seems to follow us wherever we go.”

“Eren…”

I need to push her away. I need to tell her that I don’t care that she’s crying. That I don’t care if she loves me. I need to say I don’t love…

No. I do love her. I love her so much. I can’t even pretend that I don’t.

Eren tightened his hold around you just slightly, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “You’ll have days where you want to cry. You’ll have times when you’re so upset you don’t even want to get out of bed. But I’ll always be there watching over you. So you don’t need to be afraid of the future. You have a whole lifetime ahead of you. And as long as I’m in your heart, you’ll never be alone.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks, falling and staining Eren’s shirt. He rubbed your back as you cried, squeezing you tighter when your body shook with your sobs.

She probably thinks I’m referring to my last years alive as a titan-shifter. Good. It’s better this way.

“I still believe we can find a way to undo this…curse,” you whispered, angling your head against Eren’s chest to better feel his heartbeat. “This won’t be the end of us. I’m sure of it. We’ll find a way to make it to the end.”

I wish we could…he thought, a stabbing pain pricking at his chest. He hadn’t really thought much about dying considering he’d been so focused on tuning the fine-details of his plan. But death isn’t what scared him the most. He’d once tried to imagine a life without you in it, what things would have turned out like if he’d never met you. Every scenario he’d come up with left him terrified. You’d been at his side for so long. You’d given him the affection he didn’t know he’d been craving. You were his shining light, an anchor in unruly waters. You meant everything to him. You loved him. And now he was about to find out what it would be like to be on the receiving end of your hatred.

“Oh, I should probably clean up the rest of your wound. It won’t take long. How about we go to the Mess Hall after this for some dinner?"

Eren hummed in response, giving you his hand to patch up. For the remainder of your task, he kept silent, letting the dread of what was to come enter in and dissipate. He had a mission to accomplish; he had a fate to meet. No matter how hard he tried to run, there would be no escaping what had been shown to him.

Tomorrow I’ll write my last letter for her to find, and then it’s time to face the judgment that lies before me.

#claudemblems writes #I'm actually quite happy with this one ^^#Eren Yeager #Eren Jeager #eren x reader #aot #aot x reader #aot imagines

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miyuhpapayuh · 10 months

Text

21. Silk.

"I'm so glad you're here. I haven't seen you, since... Gloria left us." The tears start to fall from both of their eyes.

"I... I'm sorry, I packed up and left. I just couldn't stay here." Moving their hands from her face, she lets them swing at their sides.

"I don't blame you, baby doll. We all needed our time— hell, we still need it. I'm just glad that you came to see us. To see me. I missed you terribly."

"I missed you, too. We've got lots to talk about."

"Yes, we do. Rina, dear, will you let us catch up, please?"

"Of course. I'll let you know when lunch is ready." She heads out and closes the door behind herself.

Stevie sits down in the red recliner that sits next to his, sliding her boots off and pulling out the footrest.

"How was your flight?"

"I hate planes and my nerves were shot, but I made it." She sighs. He nods, fiddling with his wedding band.

"Planes are a death machine, I believe. Every time Gloria and I would travel, she made sure to say that on every plane we'd ever gotten on."

"She loved to travel, man. I remember she took me to Puerto Rico with her, one summer. I ate the best food and got the best tan of my life!," she laughs.

"Yeah?, is that when you learned Spanish?" She nods, twiddling her thumbs.

"Mhm. She made sure to drill it in me. I couldn't go to the pool, until I could have a full conversation with her in Spanish."

"You wanna know something?"

"Always."

"I've sat in front of this window for the last three years and hadn't spoken a word to anyone, about anything. I just watched the wind rustle through those red leaves and cry. Gloria knows I hate crying and she left me, anyway." He looks away from her.

"What made you start talking, again?"

"You."

"Me?," her tone full of curiosity. "Why me?"

"I thought about you and how broken up you were. If that fiery old woman meant anything to anyone, it was you. Oh, she loved you with all her heart." He pats her leg. "I just kept seeing your face in my head and I wanted to see you. I don't even think, I realized that you had left. I was numb to everything. But, I'd gotten tired of feeling that way— it was hard, losing her. She'd been my sweetheart for fifty years and she left me."

"I never thought about how hard this was on you. I was being super selfish and I'm sorry."

It stung, watching him tear up over the only woman he'd ever loved.

"No, dear... it's okay,"

"It's not, grandpa. I should've checked on you. You've been without your heart for three years."

The look in her eyes is one he knows, all too well.

"You're in love, aren't you?" She wipes her tears away and pulls her knees up to her chest.

"How'd you know?"

"You've got that look. What's his name?"

"Roderick." He smiles.

"How long has it been?"

"It'll be a year in May."

"Oh, it's still fresh!"

"In the measure of time, yes. But, I feel like I've known him my whole life."

"She's the most amazing girl I've ever met." Aunt Rina, Jade and Stevie's mom, Victoria, who showed up an hour ago with her husband, Gene, swoon as Rod talks about Stevie.

"Where did she find you? Are there more where you came from?" Jade raises an eyebrow in question.

"Unfortunately, I'm one of a kind, and if anybody found anybody, it was me that found her."

"Hm. La perra afortunada." Jade says, gets swatted with the hand towel right after.

"Ouch, ma!"

"Watch your language, in this house. Lo juro, ustedes pierden la cabeza a veces. ¡Jesús!"

"I was just playing!"

"Well, knock it off! Act like the good Lord gave you some sense." Victoria cuts her eyes at her niece, before looking back to Rod. "You wanna tell them the story of how you two met?"

"I'm always up for that.," he chuckles. "Stevie would kill me, if she knew I was telling it, which makes it even funnier. Last year, I was coming from the cafe and I basically wiped her out—" Mateo cackles, loudly. "It's as funny as it sounds, for real. I got off a few jokes about her being as small as she is and she wasn't feelin' it— she laughed, but she wasn't feelin' it— but, I asked for her number and the rest is history, my friends."

"Wow, you got her mean ass to be nice to you? That's wild." Derrick shakes his head. "She used to beat us up."

"Oh, she definitely gave me a run for my money, in the beginning, but mama ain't raise no quitter. I'm built for it."

"Are you?" Gene asks, amusement laced in his tone.

Rod laughs, shaking his head. "I am!"

"You're not," Stevie says, as she steps into the living room with her grandpa. Rod scans her face, frowning at her puffy, red eyes.

"Hey ma, hey dad." She heads over to her parents, kissing their cheeks.

"Hey, honey. You look beautiful."

"That's your twin, I swear." Her grandpa adds.

"They're both gorgeous, so it works." Gene replies.

"Abuelo, I want you to meet my boyfriend, Roderick."

He stands up, standing almost eye-to-eye with the older man, extending his hand.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, sir."

"Likewise, son. I've heard a lot about you. You can call me Jorge." Giving his hand a firm shake, he gives him a warm smile.

"Good things, I hope."

"Very good things, son. You've got yourself a dime."

"I'm forever lucky to have found her," he glances at her, watching her blush, profusely.

༺═───────────────────────────────────────═༻

After lunch, the photo albums are spread out and everybody's currently ripping into Stevie about how chubby she was.

"Look at those cheeks!" Jade points to a picture of Stevie. She had to be around two or three years old, her curls were tossed all over her head and she was sitting on the lap of her favorite person, her grandma.

"Ugh, I was ugly." She laughs, leaning back into Rod.

"The lies. You were the cutest baby I've ever seen." He rubs her thigh and presses his face against her arm as she sits on his lap.

"Oh, you're a slick one." Aunt Rina points her finger at him, laughing to herself. Stevie playfully rolls her eyes.

"I'm innocent." He winks.

"Mhm. I'm keeping my eye on you." She playfully threatens.

"Ooh, look! I haven't seen these pictures in years!" Jade flips the page and points to the black and white pictures of her grandparents, looking like something straight out of a movie.

"Aw, y'all were sharp! When was this?" Stevie asks her abuelo.

"This was after church, one day. Gloria wanted ice cream really badly, I could never say no to her, so I drove fifteen miles to the nearest parlor and got her, her favorite ice cream. Anybody know what it is?”

"Pistachio!" They all say in unison, laughing.

"Fifteen miles?! That's some love." Derrick shakes his head. "We'd have to go in on gas money, together."

"Oh, brother." Jade says.

"That's a little triflin', don't you think?" Rod asks.

"How?"

"It's fifteen miles. That's not much."

"You'd drive that far for Stevie?" Derrick questions.

Rod laughs. "I'd drive around the world for her."

"You'd never ask for gas money?" Mateo asks.

"Nope. Men don't worry ‘bout things like that. If she offered, it'd be a different story, but I'd never ask and never stress over it."

"You've got you a good one." Uncle Don nods in Stevie's direction.

"I know, right." She cheeses.

The front door opens and closes. "Dad!," a female voice calls out.

"In the kitchen!," he yells back.

"I'm so sorry, I'm late. The traffic out there is terrible—" rounding the corner, Stevie's aunt Isabela and cousin Adrienne walk into the spacious kitchen.

"Stevie, hi!" Her aunt rounds the table and leans down for a hug. "Ugh!, you get prettier, every time I see you."

"Cut it out! How've you been?"

"I've been good— not as good as you, I see." She darts her eyes towards Rod, who's growing used to being the center of attention.

"This is my boyfriend, Rod. Rod, this is my aunt, Isabela." They shake each other's hand.

"It's nice to meet you, dear."

"Nice to meet you, too."

"Adrienne, are you gonna come and speak?"

"She doesn't have to." Stevie says, abruptly. "It's totally fine."

"Hey, everybody....Hey, Stevie." Adrienne replies, sarcastically, moving the phone away from her ear. "So nice of you to join your family, again."

Stevie blinks. Rod wraps an arm around her waist, sensing the hostility in the air. Gene takes a mental note, chuckling to himself.

"My boy," he mumbles to himself.

"Usually, I'd stoop to your pathetic level, but I'm not gonna do it."

"And, why is that?" Adrienne folds her arms across her busty chest.

"Because, you're simply not worth it. Go take your phone call and stop talking to me."

Adrienne stomps away into the living room, leaving Stevie to roll her eyes.

"You two have never gotten along," her grandpa points out. "Why is that?"

"She's rude. It could've been cool, had she not said what she said. That wasn't necessary."

"No, it wasn't. I'm sorry." Isabella apologizes.

"Aren't you tired of apologizing for her behavior? She's too old for that."

Sighing, Stevie excuses herself, heading down the hall to the bathroom.

"I'm gonna kill somebody, before I leave." Washing her hands, she opens the door and comes face to face with Adrienne.

"So... you finally get a man and decide to show your face, huh?" The malice in her voice is as thick as the blood pumping through Stevie's veins.

Blowing out a breath, Stevie walks past her, back down the hallway. Adrienne grabs her wrist and pulls her back. "I'm talking to you."

"Don't touch me." She grits, roughly smacking her hand away.

"What's your problem, bitch?" Stevie's eyes widen at the word that ever so, carelessly flies out of her mouth.

"Excuse me?," Rod comes around the corner and zeroes in on Stevie cracking her knuckles, quickly getting between the two.

"Move, Rod. She wanna call me out of my name! I swear, I'll beat your ass in this house. It's never an issue."

"You talk a lot for someone who hasn't swung yet."

Stevie pushes against her brick wall of a boyfriend, trying to get past him.

"Stevie, what's going on?" Her mom and aunt Isabela come into the hall and throw puzzled glances at each other.

"Adrienne's lost her mind. Calling me a bitch and making comments, like she knows me."

"I do know you! You're a flake! You show up, when it's convenient for you, like now. How long has it been since you've been down here?"

"Convenient for me?," taking all her strength, she moves Rod aside. "I'm not here for me, Adrienne. I'm not here for you. I'm here for my grandpa. I'm here to properly mourn my grandma. I'm here to see my family. I'm not here to get into these stupid ass arguments with you— got me showin' out in here. It's always some bullshit with you, why? Why do you always have to be up my ass? Weren't you the one that went ghost on everybody, after she died? That was you, right?" The hot tears that stream down her face catch her off guard.

"Stevie.," her mom touches her shoulder, making her flinch and rush back into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her.

Rod immediately heads towards the door, softly knocking on the old fashioned, wooden door. "Stevie.."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Victoria asks Adrienne, whose smug grin hasn't faltered.

"Getting her to see that she's the issue. She dipped on us, right? This was hard on everybody and she left."

"Oh, please!," Jade comes in, "you don't remember how you showed your ass, after the funeral? How you left and nobody could find your stupid ass for a week?!"

"Who was talking to you?"

"Who cares? Why won't you take accountability for your own actions? You think abuelo wants to hear you in here bitching about shit that don't concern you? Get you some business and stop bothering Stevie."

Adrienne gets in her face.

"And, if I don't? What are you going to do?"

"Keep it up. You'll definitely find out." Aunt Rina pulls Jade back into the kitchen, while Adrienne is pushed out the front door by her mom.

"Stevie... Please open the door." Rod pleads for the third time, finally hearing the lock click and seeing the door crack open.

Sliding in, he closes the door behind himself and pulls her into a hug, sighing roughly as her raspy sobs break through.

"Shh.... I gotchu."

༺═───────────────────────────────────────═༻

After an hour or so, Stevie emerges from the bathroom and heads into the living room, not even caring about her overly puffy eyes.

"I think we should check into our hotel now. Sorry about all of that, earlier.”

"Hotel?," abuelo asks, "you didn't come all this way to stay in a hotel, doll."

"Well, it's not just me, here. I didn't know if it was okay with you, if the both of us stayed."

"You never asked, neither. Your boyfriend is family now. He's just as welcome as you've always been." Him and Rod bump fists, making her crack a smile.

"Really?"

"Do you know how big this house is? Your aunt Rina and her knuckle-headed kids, including Don, stay here from time to time and remember, this was your home, at a point. You stayed here many summers."

"I know, I know."

"I'd be quite offended if you didn't stay."

"Okay, fine! We'll stay, old man."

He laughs.

"Good. You need help getting your bags out of the car?"

"If y'all don't mind," she pokes her lip out, catching her older cousin’s eyes, who blows out a breath.

Rod smiles and kisses her forehead, before leading Derrick outside.

"Come sit, sweetheart."

Plopping down on the soft cushion, Stevie sighs. "Is she still here?"

"No, she left like, an hour ago. Nobody wants to be around that energy for too long." Don answers.

"I'm not apologizing for her, but I am sorry. You didn't deserve that." Jade adds.

"I've been through a lot of things that I haven't deserved. I'm starting to think, that's a part of life." She shrugs.

"Things like what?" Mateo asks.

"You don't wanna know. Trust me."

Stevie watches them come back in, hauling the suitcases inside, head upstairs and into the room. She stands and heads up, sliding away from the doorway as Derrick exits.

"Thanks, D."

"Of course." He pulls her into a side-hug, before walking away.

Stevie walks into the room and looks around, a faint smile gracing her lips.

"This was the room that I used to stay in, when I'd visit in the summer." She giggles at the red floor lamp.

"If there's one thing about my grandma, she never matched when it came to furniture." She walks over to the bed and unzips her suitcase, pulling her clothes out.

Sliding up behind her, Rod wraps her up in his arms. "Are you okay? Truthfully."

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm still mad at her, but I'm fine." He presses kisses to her cheek.

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"Everything," she turns around in his hold, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

༺═───────────────────────────────────────═༻

"I could eat this for the rest of my life." Rod blurts, before eating another spoonful of cremita de maiz, a Puerto Rican version of cream of wheat.

"It's good, huh?" Gene chuckles, biting into his darkened toast. Stevie shakes her head, cutting into her pancakes.

"I don't like cream of wheat, but the sugar and cinnamon is enough for me to not mind it." Aunt Rina pats Rod's shoulders.

"I like him. Keep him."

"I plan on it." Stevie concurs.

"Mornin', mornin'.," Derrick enters the kitchen and grabs a green apple out of the fruit basket on the kitchen table.

"Good morning, man." Him and Rod slap hands.

"Morning.," Stevie scrunches up her face as Derrick kisses her forehead.

"My girlfriend's comin' through, later. I thought I'd be nice and take y'all out. There's this club out in West Hollywood, Silk, that's always jumpin'."

"It'd be fun to let my hair down. I'm up for it! Baby?" She turns to Rod to see how he feels.

"You know I'm with whatever you with, mama."

"It's settled," Derrick announces with a clap of his hands, "y'all better not punk out on me like a couple lames."

"Ain't nobody finna punk out, meathead," she flicks him in the temple.

"You lucky you my cousin, I'd put ya lil ass in a headlock."

"Cut it out, you two," Rina cuts into the pair's back and forth, "y'all are not twelve years old anymore."

"She started it," Derrick pouts.

"I didn't start it. You started it."

"¡Ya!," she nips the impending back and forth in the bud, "Do I have to ground your grown asses??"

"No, tía."

"No, mama." They respond simultaneously. Rod has to chuckle at how quickly she gets the two adults together.

After breakfast, Stevie and Jade are in the living room sprawled out on the sofa, with Rod kicking it on the floor right below Stevie's head.

She gasps seemingly randomly, making Jade look up.

"What's up?"

"I don't have anything to wear tonight! Nothing nice enough to step into a club named Silk at least."

"You know what that means right, cuz? Shopping trip!" She does a little shimmy at the idea of going to the mall. "I hope you grew out of that awkward phase from high school, because you will not be walking in the club with me dressed like Lisa Turtle."

"¡Chíngate!"

That sends Jade into a giggle fit. "I'm just kidding, Alaina." She pinches her cousin's reddened cheek.

"Who the hell is Lisa Turtle?", Rod speaks up, genuinely confused.

"You never watched Saved by the Bell??", Jade asks.

"Do I look like somebody that watched something called Saved by the Bell?", he retorts jokingly.

"Fair," she says with a laugh, "well, my girl just could not dress. Walked out the house looking like the 80's threw up on her every morning. I'm talking big shoulders, loud ass colors and patterns, them big ass bows in her head, mom jeans", she visibly shudders at the memory, "and kitten heels when she was feeling herself, but my boo got it together, though."

"Damn baby girl, you were out here on your Madonna shit?", he ends with a Windex laugh.

"Like a virgin!" Jade sings, falling into another laughing fit at her own antics.

"You can kiss the fattest part of my ass, Jade!" Stevie throws a pillow at her head making her laugh even harder.

"Ehhh, I'll let Rod handle that, babe."

"I need a new goddamn family," Stevie says under her breath, readjusting her position on the couch.

"Oh please, you love us."

"Debatable." Jade's jaw drops, and it's Stevie's turn to laugh. "I'm just kidding, Lorena." She mocks her earlier sentiment.

The rest of the morning is full of more laughter and embarrassing childhood stories.

Around 3pm, the girls decided to make their excursion to the nearby shopping mall, letting the boys play video games on Derrick's PlayStation.

They traversed almost the entire mall looking for the perfect dress for the evening, but nothing was tickling Stevie's fancy.

That was until they came to a boutique at the very end of the mall, Luxe.

The dresses in the window were stunning enough to have them both make their way inside.

They both skim through the racks, loving everything they saw, when Stevie shrieks.

"Girl, what?? You saw a rat?"

"No, fool! I found the perfect look for tonight."

"Let me see it!"

Stevie holds the pale blue 2-piece set against her body.

"Ooh, bitch! That's hella fly. Rod's gonna have a fit!"

"He'll have to deal because I'm getting this."

She finds coordinating platforms and gold jewelry to complete her look.

When they get back home, Rod tries to peek in her bag to see what she bought, but she swats his hand away.

"Move, nosy rosy."

He puts his hand over his heart in fake shock. "I can't see it?"

"You'll see it tonight," she says teasingly, popping up on her tiptoes to reach his lips, pecking them.

"Hey, hey. None of that nasty shit.", Jade pipes up.

"Don't be a hater all your life, boo. There's someone for you, too."

"Piss off!"

"Awww, is the widdle baby upset?", she pinches her cousin's cheek.

"Ay, be nice." Rod quickly swats her backside, making her jump.

"Well, looky looky. Somebody finally got Miss Smart Mouth in check, huh? I like you more and more everyday, Roderick."

"Don't you have anything else to do??", Stevie grumbles, annoyed and slightly embarrassed.

"Nope! I can get on your nerves all day, cuz," Jade says cheerily.

Stevie rolls her eyes, heading upstairs to put away her purchases.

༺═───────────────────────────────────────═༻

Later that evening...

Stevie's putting the final touches on her look for the night. Her usual ringlets are bone straight and pulled into a high pony that grazes the top of her behind.

The makeup she wears is subtle with nude, glossed lips, wispy lashes, and matte, bronzed skin. Her legs look a mile long in the gold platforms that complement the gold hardware in her outfit.

Feeling diva-ish from being in the City of Angels, she pops on a pair of slightly oversized, baby blue shades to complete the look.

She pokes her head in Jade's room to see if she's any closer to being ready.

"We have got to cut this out," Stevie remarks as she takes in Jade's outfit for the evening. Same fit in a dark green.

They've been inadvertently dressing similarly since they were young. They always joked they could read each other's minds.

"Ooh, girl, we look cute though! And I love that your extra ass is wearing shades at night. You've come a long way, Turtle."

"Whatever! The boys are waiting. Let's get downstairs."

Walking downstairs arm in arm, Rina spots them first.

"Well, if it isn't the Bobbsey twins! You two look gorgeous."

They graciously thank her in soft voices.

Derrick and Rod look up from their conversation, and Rod feels his throat tighten.

"Damn," he mumbles before thinking.

Derrick, on the other hand, looks like he wants to throw a sheet over them as if they'd just passed out in a Baptist church.

"Yeah, you girls look beautiful. Now go change," he says in all seriousness.

They immediately hit him with the same "you got me fucked up" face.

"You can go somewhere always tryna be somebody daddy. I already have one, and I barely listen to that fool." Stevie's the first one to speak up. Rina has to keep the water she's sipped from spewing all over the counter at her niece's bluntness.

"Mama, you see how short those skirts are!", he resorts to trying to get Rina on his side, "One wrong move, and now I'm fighting every guy in the club."

"Derrick, these girls are grown! Let them be."

"But, ma--"

"That's enough, Derrick. Quieres hijos, tienes que hacerlos."

Derrick mumbles something unintelligible under his breath.

"What was that??"

"Nothing." He can feel the heat from the sandal preparing to meet his face, so he tightens up quickly.

"That's what I thought. Now--" The sound of the doorbell cuts her sentence short, and Derrick pops out of his seat to answer, knowing it's his girl, Roxanne.

He opens the door, and a stunning young woman with a pixie cut, clad in a form fitting, bright red, three piece suit appears.

"Hi, baby." Her voice is soft, almost shy as she greets him, throwing her arms around his neck. The kiss they shared is chaste since his mom is present, but sweet all the same.

"Hey, Miss Rina."

"What's going on, Roxanne? You look beautiful."

The beauty thanks her and they fall into a short conversation.

"Alright, you babies go on and have fun. I know I will," she says slickly, winking at the group.

She gives them all kisses, Rod included, and sends them on their way.

Pulling up to the imposing, brick-faced building, they're faced with a throng of young men and women chomping at the bit to get behind the velvet rope that'll grant them entry to the hottest nightclub in the city where the DJ's selections can be heard down the block.

"I thought clubs back home were hard to get into, but this is something else!", Stevie remarks as she looks at the line of people wrapped around the corner.

"Don't even sweat it, girl. Let's go," Jade responds, and they follow her with confused, yet intrigued looks.

The solid, 6'0 bouncer looks up as he hears the click clack of the girls' heels approaching him.

"'Sup, Jade," the man with intricately braided hair greets her.

"Hey, boo. How you livin'?"

"I'm straight. You know Gin in there asking for you."

"Is he now?"

"Yup. His section's on the second floor. You and your people have a good time." He unclips the rope and allows them through.

"Thanks, babe." She lightly pats his chest as she walks through.

"Damn, cuz," Stevie pipes up as they walk into the building, "you might be too damn cool for me."

"Cut it out. I just know a few people."

"And who the hell is Gin??", Derrick asks after seeing her interaction with the club's bouncer.

"Do not start that shit with me, D. I didn't come here to argue with you. Now I know there's a Cosmo with my name on it. Y'all drinking?"

She receives scattered affirmations, and they head to the bar.

California Love starts playing as Jade leads them to the second level she was directed to earlier, and she, Derrick, and Roxanne immediately start rapping along flawlessly.

Stevie bops along to the infectious rhythm, while Rod looks like the out of place New Yorker he is.

"Bruh, tell me you know this song," Derrick says when he takes in Rod's stiffness.

"Can't say that I do, playa."

Derrick & his sister's jaws both drop at the revelation.

"How do you not know about the goat?! This song is everywhere!", Jade exclaims in disbelief.

"The who??"

"Please don't get him going on this east vs. west shit. We'll be here all night," Stevie intervenes.

"Babe, the goat, though??"

Stevie gives him a look that warns him to quit while he's ahead, which he does.

The music continues with the latest in hip-hop with the drinks that keep flowing.

The girls down shots while rapping to Whatta Man. The tequila runs through their veins and loosens them up.

"What's up, stranger?", a smooth voice sounds, directly behind Jade.

She turns face to face with the handsome gentleman, whose decked out in a lime green, silk Versace blouse with sparkling diamond adornments from his fingers to his ears.

"Hello, Elgin." She remains impassive while the flock of women present look like they want to yank out her hair.

"I've been tryna hit you up all week. When are you gonna stop playing with my heart, gorgeous?"

"When you stop wearing crop tops on the red carpet," her quick wit causes her to blurt out.

Stevie & Roxanne are watching the exchange with their jaws making friends with the floor, as Jade casually brushes off the man whose song is playing in the club as they speak.

He takes the playful dig in stride, and tries persuading her to come with him so they can "talk", which she politely declines.

"I don't think so, pretty boy. I'm here with my people."

"Do not sweat us! We good, boo."

Stevie nods along in agreement. "Yeah, girl. We got them two knuckleheads back there."

Jade shakes her head with a chuckle, turning back to her admirer, who has a smirk on his face.

"You have ten minutes to convince me why I should give you the time of day."

"I don't even need that long, ma." He extends his arm for her to take, and she does, following his lead.

"She something else, isn't she?"

"I need to take a page or two out of her book. Don't tell her I said that, though." The remaining girls share a laugh.

"Ay, why y'all let my sister run off with that negro and his S-Curl?"

"Derrick, relax! She's a smart girl. She's not going anywhere if she doesn't feel safe," Stevie speaks up in defense of her cousin.

"Well, she has 15 minutes to show her face again or I'm setting it off in here."

"Okay, dad, sheesh. We need to get some more liquor in you."

"Yes!" Roxanne agrees wholeheartedly, only her reasons are a bit more...selfish. She knows he'll put a dent in the headboard with the right amount of brown in him.

While her cousin canoodles with an R&B heartthrob, the truth serum running through Stevie's system has her feeling extra touchy with her own.

Nobody serves as the soundtrack while she winds her hips against his, her hands traveling across any part of him they could reach.

She spins herself around to face him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"You know what I think?", she asks against his lips. Her words are slurred and heavy with lust.

"Hmm?" The Henny has hit him in the best way, and Stevie's hands are sending sparks through his whole being.

"I think," she pauses to kiss his slightly parted mouth, "we should get outta here."

"What about Derrick?", he asks, really only halfway concerned.

"He'll figure it out."

With that, she hooks her finger in the front of his belt buckle and leads him through the crowd of people, outside to the fresh, night air.

They hail the first cab that rolls up to the club, ambling into the backseat. Rod barely gets the address out before she's in his lap sucking and nibbling on the sweet spots of his neck. The poor cab driver simply shakes his head with a chuckle, minding his business.

He has to stop her when her hands get to trying to unbuckle his belt.

"I will fuck you up in the back of this cab, Vie," he warns closely in her ear.

She licks the shell of his ear. "I dare you," she whispers seductively.

"Alright now," the driver sounds from the front, "I don't want you youngins to mess around and catch a charge over some hanky panky. Trust me. Save all that for when you get home."

Listening to the older man, Stevie reluctantly moves herself off Rod's lap, opting to sit closer to her passenger side door. That doesn't stop the sensual, fleeting touches between the two of them.

They nearly run out of the taxi once they reach their destination. Stevie ducks down near several rocks where Rina keeps a spare key hidden underneath one.

It's quiet as a church mouse as they enter, so they try their best to creep to their room undetected.

They're almost successful until Stevie's platforms finally get the better of her, and she loses her balance reaching the top of the stairs.

She squeals in shock, but she's caught by Rod's strong arms before she can hit the ground.

Staring at each other in silence for a moment, Stevie bursts into a fit of giggles, and in his attempt to quiet her down, Rod finds himself laughing too.

"Babe, your aunt is gonna come out here and beat our asses. Shhh." He puts a finger to her lips for emphasis.

She nods as if she agrees, but a few giggles escape her still. So, he scoops her up, carrying her the rest of the way. He uses his foot to close the door as quietly as he can.

Setting her gently on the bed, he takes her ankle in his hand to remove the offending, yet sexy footwear. With her legs gapped, he notices her smooth, glistening womanhood. He shoots her a questioning glance which she responds to with a wink.

Yanking her down to the edge of the bed by her ankle, he pins her legs back into the mattress and latches his lips onto her clit.

Her breathy sighs and gasps have him straining through the thick fabric of his jeans.

She pops the buttons on her top and uses a free hand to roll her nipple between her fingers, increasing the euphoric feelings.

The fact that she's pinned down and essentially forced to take this tongue lashing intensifies the feeling tenfold. Her hands run over his waves. Her almond acrylics running along his scalp send tingles down his spine, and he groans against her.

The familiar coil in her lower stomach tightens, and her thighs begin to quiver signaling her impending release.

She has to throw her hands over her mouth to catch the long moan threatening to fly from her lips. Her nectar flows freely into his eager mouth, but that doesn't stop him from slurping her like she was a glass of ice water in the summer.

Her hands find the top of his head in an attempt to push him away, but he's relentless.

Finally, he pulls away from her over-sensitive bud with an obscene pop, and she closes her legs putting her hands between them.

"Shit," she breathes, trying to bring herself down.

"You tappin' out on me already?", he taunts her. "You was talkin' big shit earlier."

While he's talking he pulls his pants and boxers down to his ankles in one swift motion kicking them off. "Now, put that ass up," he commands, smacking her thigh.

She rolls over, putting a deep arch in her back just how he likes it. He bunches her skirt up around her waist and sinks his entire length into her heat, eliciting a drawn out curse from the both of them simultaneously.

His nails dig into the soft flesh of her hips as he grinds in and out, allowing her to become accustomed to his size.

Not pleased with the low groans that make it past the barrier of her lower lip that's been tucked between her teeth, he takes her ponytail and wraps it around his hand, pulling her flush against his chest.

"Let me hear that shit, princess." He licks the sweet spot near the base of her ear, mimicking her earlier teasing.

His strokes become merciless, filling her to the hilt.

"Oh, fffuck! Baby, you're so fucking deep! Shit!" Her eyes roll to the back of her head while he continues to bring her closer and closer to the edge, his heavy hand coming down on her ass at different intervals.

Her head swims as she teeters back and forth in the space between pleasure and pain.

His hand moves from her hair to her neck, pulling her back up when she slumps forward. He feels her walls pulsate around him, and he knows she's right there.

The combination of his thumb applying the perfect amount of pressure and his filthy words of encouragement in her ear send her gushing all over his length, with his own release following shortly thereafter.

Heavy breathing soon turns into soft snores, as they collapse into the covers.

༺═───────────────────────────────────────═༻

The throbbing pain in their heads wake them up, at the same time. By the sheer grace of God, their bodies are covered up with the thick blanket.

Stevie looks around the room, shaking her head at the way their clothes are thrown about.

"Jesus," Rod sits up, looking around as well, slightly laughing to himself.

She glances up at him, giggling as he bends down to smother her with kisses. She playfully pushes him away and jumps up from the bed, in search of his t-shirt.

"I gotta pee.," she grabs the shirt off the floor and yanks it over her head, rushing across the hall to empty her bladder.

After washing her hands, she opens the door and squeals at the sight of Derrick. Thanking God that her shirt comes below her knees, she pushes him out into the hallway.

"You scared me!," she whisper-yells.

"Oh yeah?, you two horny toads scared me, last night!," his volume a little louder than hers, "how am I supposed to keep an eye on you, if you're hailing cabs back here and not telling anybody?!"

"Derrick, you weren't in charge of 'keeping an eye on me'," she laughs. "I'm sorry that I left y'all, last night— wait."

"What?" His voice goes back to normal as her eyes zoom in on the trail of deep red hickeys on his neck.

"You had sex last night, didn't you?"

"Yeah, well, I'm grown." He blinks.

"So am I!," she thumps him in the temple, pushing him out of her way. "Got me feeling bad and shit."

"Well, you should feel bad. You still left me." He turns her back around.

"Mm, right. You were worried about wittle Ol Stevie, while Roxy was chewing on your neck like a piece of candy. Get out my face, boy."

"If you two don't get out this hallway and shut up.," aunt Rina emerges from her room, hair all over her head.

"Sorry.," the speak at once, not taking their eyes off her appearance.

"What?" She asks.

Stevie smirks, crossing her arms. "I guess we're not the only ones who had some fun, last night."

Derrick grimaces at the instant mental pictures, flooding his brain. "Gross. I'm going back to bed." He excuses himself, slamming his door shut.

"Go back to bed, Alaina.," Rina scolds with a laugh.

Stevie slides back into her room, crawling back into bed to cuddle with Rod, whose gaze is on the window, straight ahead.

"Hey," she kisses his shoulder blade.

"Hey.," he nuzzles his chin against her hair. "Thanks for bringing me out here. I enjoyed myself."

"You're officially part of family vacations, now." She laughs. "I told you, they were gonna love you. Hell, they might ship me back to New York and keep you hostage."

"You're corny, vie."

"And, you love me!"

@ghostfacekill-monger @sheabuttahwrites @blackerthings @thegifstories @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @harmshake @honestpreference @cecereads209 @abeautifulmindexposed @mauvecherie-writes

#soulff #miyuhpapayuh #poc writers #blackwriters #black romance #rod x stevie #rod and stevie #stevie x rod #black fiction #90s romance #black writers #black!reader #joey badass fic #joey bada$$

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t-lane-writes · 4 months

Text

WIP Snippet Game

I was tagged by @echo-bleu a while ago... and today I finally wrote something I'm pleased with. ;)

The Specters, fragment of Scene #16

“Which yearbooks do you want to see?” she asked in a tone that suggested the less the better. “Oh, I don’t know.” Emma tried to act nonchalant, but she was terrible at this. “How about from the year five-hundred-thirty-five until five-hundred-forty? Forty-one maybe?” Head Librarian Jalmari gave her a long look. “Six or, maybe, seven years?” she spelled it out in a way that could be interpreted as disbelieving, or mocking. Either way worked. “Wouldn’t two be enough? Thirty-seven and thirty-eight? Also known as the Apocalypse years?” Emma gaped at the woman unsure how to respond. She scratched behind her ear and looked for help with Anaher, like she suddenly wasn’t sure. She didn’t want to find Neve’s mother. In this moment it became painfully clear that Emma Lee used Neve as an excuse to get to those yearbooks, without revealing exactly what she wanted to look at. The years of the Apocalypse, of course. Or the Undine Crisis, as it was called outside of Undine. “Actually.” Neve spoke, against her better judgment trying to salvage Emma’s ruse. “Thirty-six, seven and eight might be enough. Now that you mentioned it, that would explain a lot. My mother must have died during the Apocalypse, that makes so much sense. And my records--” she spread her hands, “this is why they were lost. But yes, I was born either during the Apocalypse or shortly before it, so, if we could look at thirty-six too, that would be wonderful. Do you think you can help me?” Madam Jalmari stared at Neve like she got struck by a lightning for a few seconds of awkward silence. Neve could swear she saw in the woman’s eyes fear and disgust. The unpleasant sensation rose in her insides like a bile and with it the desire to run. She was this close to backing away and bolting out of this room, if the librarian kept staring like this, but Madam Jalmari shook herself out of her daze. “I will be right back,” she announced and left. The others didn’t seem to notice Jalmari’s look. Anaher moved his hands, but Neve only understood one word, “want”. Emma replied in sign as well, “tell, see”. Neve pushed her discomfort out of her thoughts and elbowed Nersan. She was trying to learn the hand speak, but it was slow-going. When Anaher signed to her, he would slow down, made his gestures easier to distinguish from one-another. With Emma or Nersan it was a flow. A dance almost. She needed Nersan to interpret for her. “Noel asked what Emma is hoping to find, and she said she’d tell him when she finds it,” he explained in a low voice. “They’re bickering, you know.” Both Anaher and Emma gave Nersan disapproving stares, exactly the same, like they had one mind.

Thank you for reading. :)

#wip game #writeblr #my wip #the specters #neve kailash #noel anaher #emma lee #nersan ziya

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catmonk · 2 years

Text

A Hit Or A Hiss- Three

Part One Part Two

“Ok so I have an idea, why don't we give you a shower to try and get rid of that perfume you have on you.”

From this angle, you could see his arms tremble a bit on the sink he's leaning on, but his face remains impassive. Jamil’s eyes keep flickering back and forth from you to the floor, body tense.

“If that's what you wish, Master.” Jamil's voice slithered into your ear, He looked so calm a minute ago, why does he seem so tense now? He glides across the kitchen tile to where you stand, but you stop him in his path.

“What's wrong?”

He pauses for a moment. “Nothing you should bother with, Master.” His forked tongue flicks back and forth.

“Jamil, that's not what I asked. You can tell me you know,” you try to say this is the nicest tone possible, but the slits in his pupils still dont look at you.

“Please Master, let's go outside to get me clean.”

What? Was Jamil expecting you to hose him down? Although Kalim’s unique magic was Oasis Maker, surely he hadn't been using rainwater to clean his pets? A headache started to creep onto you for what felt like the millionth time today,

“We aren't going to go outside, we’re going to go to the bathroom. I bought a special snake shampoo for you at the store,” you taking hold of his forearm to drag him out, with the grocery bag in your other hand.

Your tub wasn't anywhere close to enough lengthwise for the naga, but he curled himself up into tiered layers. You started to run water, swatting away his very persistent efforts to help. As the tub started to fill up, an awkward sort of silence filled in.

“Do you mind taking the hair ornaments out for me? They're rather gorgeous but they'll get in the way, where did you get them?”

“My hair ornaments? Oh, I just buy them and get them as gifts from time to time. I'm not terribly particular about them.” Jamil laid the gold in a small pile beside the tub.

“Good, what do you think of my house so far?”

“It isn't so bad, it's very…uncluttered. That will make it easier to clean. There's certainly a…character to it, in a good way I assure you.”

The water was getting close to the brim so you turned off the faucet and turned behind you to take out the shampoo. His shoulders looked incredibly tense, but you still pushed forward with it, lathering his hair. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, intaking a slow breath. Amazing how even relaxing he looked so controlled.

Two sharp eyes batted open, “Your staring is starting to unnerve me, you know. Is it customary to casually touch others like this to you?”

“Well I don't really know how to act around you,” you turned on the shower head to rinse his hair out, “it's a learning process, and I hope you'll say something if I do anything wrong.”

All he did was close his eyes, but this time you could tell he loosened up just a bit more.

Fucking hell I haven't uploaded in like a month, I have nothing to say for myself. only on more chapter to go(?) Not the best one so far I will come back to edit it later probably. Do i also tag the people who commented on the last one??? comments and reblog dare greatly appreciated, trying ta find a beta reader rn

@veethewriter

#jamil x mc #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #catmonk works #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #jamil viper x mc #twst jamil #second person pov

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hxney-lemcn · 2 years

Text

I Hear a Symphony — Hunter x gn! royal! reader

Summery: Reader is apart of a royal family. Their life seemed dull, doing the same things, but then they meet Hunter. And their simple song turned into a symphony.

tw: none.

a/n: OMG I'M IN LOVE WITH THIS FIC AHHHHH!!! You need to listen to the song while reading, it's like...a must.

wc: 1.8k

Master List

I used to hear a simple song

That was until you came along

Now in its place is something new

I hear it when I look at you

Life used to be simple. I followed my parents' wishes. I did my duties as a child of royalty. Keeping up appearances was my utmost duty. Keeping my head up high as I talked with nobles. Watching what I say. Learning what to do when it was my turn to step up to the throne. Meeting potential suitors to keep up the family image.

That was until I met The Golden Guard.

Emperor Belos ruled over the Boiling Isles, while my family ruled over Godestone Key. An island that not many people outside of it knew. But my parents decided that they wanted to change that. So they got in contact with Emperor Belos. Normally on exhibitions that made us leave our land, they’d leave me behind to keep everything in order. They liked to call it training for my future position. But this time it was different.

“Emperor Belos,” My father said with respect, and we all bowed our heads.

“Your majesty,” Belos replied back.

I felt…nervous. I’ve heard stories from the nobles about the Boiling Isles, the wonders of visiting the different parts of the Titan. The stories about Emperor Belos and how he was a caring ruler. But seeing him in person left chills run down my spine. His mask was eerie, and the way he loomed over us felt suffocating. I felt myself waver under his looming stare. My mind screamed to keep my head bowed, but I kept my head held up high, just like mother taught me.

“I hope your travels were pleasant,” Belos continued. He sat on his throne, but there was nowhere for us to sit. Didn’t he know that was impolite?

“They were,” My father agreed. “Thank you.”

“I noticed that you brought your child,” Belos stated, his gaze landing on me solely, and if I thought it was bad before, it’s terrible now. “I don’t want to bore them with adult matters, perhaps my nephew could give them a tour of Bonesborough?”

I wanted to speak up for myself, but I knew my place. Do not speak unless spoken to, and Belos did not ask me.

“You are kind to think of them,” My father responded. “But we brought them here to show them how to deal with international affairs.”

“I insist,” Belos spoke, his tone giving no leeway for objection. “Why don’t we ask them what they want?”

I felt my heart beat faster, and glanced towards my parents, looking for the right answer. This was the first real decision I’ve been given without my parents telling me what to do. I felt nervous as all their eyes landed on me. That’s when I noticed the guard next to him, their mask facing me as well. The need to fulfill my parents wishes was great, but the fear of Belos that you could practically see ooze out of me was greater. The need to escape this situation filled me.

“It would be an honor,” I replied, picking my words carefully. “To be given a tour of your kingdom.”

“Then that settles it,” Belos concluded. “Hunter, please take good care of their highness.”

“Yes sir,” The guard spoke up beside him, nodding his head. Then, he walked towards me and held out his arm for me to latch onto. His movements were stiff, and they seemed scripted. I accepted, and laced our arms together, as that was the correct and polite thing to do. He felt tense when I made contact with him, but I brushed it off as nerves.

As we finally left that suffocating room, I felt like I could actually breathe. I glanced at Hunter, as Belos called him. He wore a golden mask that reminded me of an owl, and a white cloak with the hood up. But this was the Emperor's nephew, why was he dressed like he was ready for battle? I cleared my head and tried to focus on other things. Like making sure I kept up appearances in front of everyone.

“How has your day fared?” I asked, starting small talk in politeness.

He stayed silent for a few seconds before replying, “It’s been good.”

My mind reeled at his casual reply. I couldn’t help but stare at him in complete shock. But quickly I tried to gain my composure and felt embarrassed at how easily I broke it in the first place. But still! My parents drilled it into my head that I must be formal in every situation since it reflects my people and my family. So someone being so high ranked and so casual was unheard of to me.

“Ahem,” I faked a cough, trying to hide my surprise. “That is good to hear.”

My life changed for the better after that. I got to know Hunter better, and he changed my view on the world. I felt…at ease with him. Something I haven’t felt since…I can’t even remember. I’d like to think he felt the same as me. I hoped. After all, the mundane tune I used to live by was replaced with something beautiful when I was with him.

With simple songs I wanted more

Perfection is so quick to bore

You are more beautiful by far

Our flaws are who we really are

I always had to be prim and proper. A trophy child. Become someone worthy of the throne. But that wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to be someone more. My own person. I didn’t want to participate in small talks that were meaningless. I wanted to make friends my own age, do things teens do. But I couldn’t. That wasn’t my purpose.

I was seen as perfect to others. Someone for parents to tell their children to act more like. Someone for kids to be jealous of. But being perfect wasn’t what it was chalked up to be. It was repetitive. Boring, dare I say.

But the feeling when Hunter finally trusted me enough to show me his face? It blew me out of the water. He was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. The fact that he felt comfortable enough to reveal his flaws to me. It made me feel honored. After all, our flaws shape who we become.

So in return I shared my own flaws. I let my walls down and showed him who I truly was. A teenager who’s been forced into a position of power and forced to grow up too quickly.

Hunter looked away sheepishly as my eyes raked his face. I didn’t expect him to be so handsome. Scars and all. If he felt this comfortable around me…maybe I’ll try to be less formal around him.

“Is…is it really that bad?” He spoke out, breaking my little reverie.

“No!” I exclaimed in shock. “Y-you’re really handsome.”

“You’re just saying that to be polite,” Hunter countered, his eyes failing to meet mine.

“I’m not,” I replied back, fidgeting with my hands. “I mean it.” I moved closer to him and slowly held his face in my hands, allowing him to pull away. He didn’t. Instead he stared into my eyes, shocked at my boldness.

If my parents were to see this, they’d have a heart attack.

“I think you’re beautiful,” I said softly.

Hunter stared at me speechless, and I felt my nerves start to crawl throughout my body. His eyes searched my own, looking for something I couldn’t put. My heartbeat accelerated as he slowly brought his hand up to hold over my own that was still holding his cheek. I felt myself flush at how sweet the gesture was as he nuzzled slightly into my hand. His face was red, showing his own fluster.

“I should be saying that to you,” He finally replied, squeezing my hand lightly. “You’re perfect after all.”

I felt my heart crack, my smile leaving. My hands twitched slightly against his face and I slowly let go, already missing his warmth. I looked to the side, my eyes drooping.

“I’m not perfect,” I stated blankly. “That’s what I’m forced to be.”

“I…I’m sorry,” Hunter said apologetically. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“I know,” I sighed out with a bitter smile. “I don’t blame you. If anything you’re perfect.”

Hunter laughed like I just told the greatest joke and I looked up at him in confusion, “(Y/n) I’m literally a mess.”

I smiled at his joking tone, “I guess that makes two of us.”

I used to hear a simple song

That was until you came along

You took my broken melody

And now I hear a symphony

Ohh

“May I have this dance?” Hunter bowed, a cheeky smile on his face. I felt a sheepish grin adorn my face. I took the hand he held out and he led me onto the dance floor.

My parents are holding a ball and Belos sent Hunter as his representative. People all around parted to stare as they watched their liege dance with someone they don’t recognize. I knew that my parents only saw it as a way to make deeper connections with Emperor Belos, but I decided that I’ll take this moment and rid my mind of the pressures I deal with daily.

Hunter…didn’t know how to dance. So I took the lead. I felt myself flush as my eyes raked over his body. I didn’t mean to check him out so blatantly, I just haven’t seen him so done up in such formal clothes. I mean that was something I liked about Hunter, the way he was able to look and talk so casually was something I longed for (as casual as a guard can dress I suppose). But seeing him dressed in a nice suit…I couldn’t take my eyes off of him (not like I could before either).

The music picked up and I spun Hunter around, people were whispering, but I paid no mind, only focused on the red that littered his cheeks. I wouldn’t have thought in my wildest daydreams that this would happen. Meeting someone who would change my life in such a substantial way that I couldn’t imagine living without them. But here I stood, holding someone close to me as we danced, and I didn’t want to let go.

The music died down and I held Hunter close to me, dropping him down into a dip. Hunter stared up at me, and I stared down at him. Slowly I lowered my face down, but stopped as our lips were inches apart. I looked into his eyes, silently asking for permission. Hunter nodded at me and I closed the space between us, the sounds of everyone else disappearing.

And now I hear a symphony

#toh #the owl house #toh hunter #hunter toh #the golden guard #golden guard #x reader #toh hunter x reader #hunter toh x reader #the golden guard x reader #golden guard x reader #Spotify

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talonslockau · 6 months

Text

Fire and Ice - Chapter 14

Chapter 13 || Index || Chapter 15

Firepaw was certain that time moved differently in the training hollow. The sun seemed to linger impossibly long in the sky above, beating down on the sand beneath his paws. Every time he looked up, hoping that it was finally sunhigh, he found it hadn’t moved at all, seeming to enjoy the pain he was enduring below.

“Keep your eyes on me, not the sun!” Tinyfrost easily bowled him over, a cloud of dust rising around them. “Your enemy won’t stop fighting until you’re defeated, and neither should you.”

The apprentice restrained a sigh as his mentor let him back up, falling back into a sparring position. “Yes, Tinyfrost.” He mewed wearily, keeping his eyes on the black tom in front of him.

“Now, let’s try again.” His mentor paced around him, tail lashing furiously.

As the tom took up position again, he dug his claws into the sand, lashing out with his back feet at his mentor behind him. The small tom neatly hopped out of the way and leaped into his apprentice’s side, knocking him to the ground again.

“Surely you can do better than that.” Tinyfrost growled at him as he stood back again. “It’s been a half moon since you joined Thunderclan, and you still have yet to learn anything. I don’t know what Bluestar saw in you.”

Firepaw seethed as he stood up, but he still remembered all too well the lesson Patchpelt had taught him. “Can we go again?” He asked, doing his best to keep his tone neutral and respectful.

“Why should I?” Tinyfrost asked, eyes narrowed. “All you’ll do is flop around instead of actually trying. In fact, all you’re going to do is watch the sun until sunhigh, so you can finally have your next meal. It’s clear that once you’re bored with us, you’re going to return to your Twolegs with a grand story to tell all your kittypet friends.”

Firepaw shook his head and grit his teeth. “I will not.” He growled at his mentor, barely able to contain his anger as he met the other’s icy glare.

The small black tom chuffed as though he’d said something funny. “It’s time for you to face it, Firepaw; you’re always going to be another kittypet weakling, and I’m tired of wasting my time on you.”

Something in him snapped.

“You’re wasting your time on me?” The ginger tom spat, flexing his claws as he prowled toward his mentor. “I could say the same to you! All you’ve done since I got here is yell at me and act like I’m some sort of burden on you! Every single thing I’ve learned from you has been because another mentor has forced you to make nice!”

In the back of his mind, he knew this could only cause him trouble, but he found that for once he didn’t care. “No matter how hard I try to please you, you act like I’ve still failed the entire Clan. It feels like you’d still find fault in me even if I somehow learned to fly!” He was only inches away from Tinyfrost now, tail lashing as he thrust a paw into the other’s chest. “At this point, I’d be better off if Bluestar appointed Dustleap as my mentor than a spiteful, sulking snake like you!”

They stood there for several moments, his sides heaving as he glared back at his so-called mentor. He didn’t care what Tinyfrost did to him anymore; he could put him on elder duty for his entire apprenticeship, or force him to eat only dirt for a moon. He was tired of pretending not to care about the constant little barbs from his mentor just because he was an apprentice, and if the other tom hated it, then that was just too bad.

“You’re right.”

“I am?” Firepaw blinked, stepping back as he stared at him. Of all the possibilities, his mentor admitting to it was not one he had predicted. “I mean, of course I am.”

"I have been too harsh on you." Tinyfrost sat down with a heavy sigh. "I haven't given you a fair chance, and I've been a terrible mentor. I'm surprised you went this long before you broke."

He felt his face contort into a grimace. "Then what was all this? Some sort of test?"

"No." The black tom shook his head slowly. "Maybe it'd be easier to understand if it was." He sighed as he looked out into the forest. "Do you know how I came to be in Thunderclan?"

He hesitated as he watched his mentor, still caught off guard by the sudden change in attitude. "Bluestar said something about you being an outsider."

Tinyfrost flinched slightly, but nodded at his answer. "She did." He mewed quietly, his voice barely higher than a whisper. "It was because of Bluestar that I joined Thunderclan, back when she was still an ordinary warrior." He glanced down briefly at his paws. "I was only a kit at the time, not yet big enough to wear a choker like my siblings…"

Firepaw listened, his anger momentarily changing to curiosity as the other tom spoke. That was, until his last sentence. "Like your siblings? You were a kittypet!" He could still hear Tinyfrost's taunts ringing in his ears.

"I was." He looked back up to meet Firepaw's furious green gaze. "I was born in a Twoleg nest with my sister and brother, the same as you were." His voice warbled as he spoke, glancing past the ruddy apprentice towards where the Twolegplace was, as though he could see it through the thick forest. "Like you, I hated the kittypet life. I ran away as soon as I was old enough to climb the garden fence."

His head reeled at the new revelations. "Then… why?" He finally managed to ask, acutely aware it sounded like the petulant mewl of a young kit. He didn't know what else to say to the tom in front of him, smaller now than he had ever seen him.

"I joined during a turbulent time." Tinyfrost continued, either not hearing his question or not wanting to. "It was only a few days after I joined that Bluestar – Bluefur then - was named deputy. A couple seasons later, the old leader left the Clan to become a kittypet."

Firepaw bristled in shock. "A leader becoming a kittypet?" As angry as he was at his mentor, he couldn't help but listen to his story anyways. "But that's against the code!"

The warrior shook his head. "It actually wasn't at the time. It was after he left that it was added into the code." He sighed mournfully. "If the Clans didn't hate kittypets before, they most definitely did after that law was passed. And as the only kittypet they knew…" He winced as he remembered. "I was despised by every warrior in camp. They taunted me constantly, made sure I wouldn't forget where I came from."

Even as he watched his mentor shrink in front of him, he found it hard to muster any sympathy for the little black tom. "If you knew what it felt like, then why did you do it to me?" He snapped, tail lashing angrily behind him. "You, better than anyone, should understand!"

Tinyfrost sighed at his words. "I spent a long time trying to prove myself to the Clan. I fought twice as hard, caught twice as much prey, did whatever I could to make them see I was just as much a warrior as any forest-born cat." He finally looked back to his apprentice, the ice in his blue eyes melting just slightly. "But it won't ever be enough. No matter what, I will always be seen as an outsider. Even by Bluestar, the one who welcomed me into the Clan."

The ginger apprentice hesitated at the other's gaze. "That doesn't mean you could just make dirt out of me." He finally managed to retort.

His mentor nodded. "You're right. It doesn't." He replied simply. "When you joined, I thought the Clan would be the same. That they would hate you just as they hated me, constantly whispering about that kittypet apprentice at the Gatherings." His claws scraped into the sand as his lips drew back into a snarl. "But they welcomed you. They accepted you like one of their own. You had friends, allies…" He forced himself to look away. "Everything I didn't."

"Not everyone was exactly welcoming." Firepaw grumbled. "Dustleap, Sandstorm… You, for that matter…"

The other tom winced again. "Yes. I let my jealousy cloud my judgement." He sighed and looked down at his paws, consciously retracting his claws. "It wasn't right. I don't blame you for thinking even Dustleap would be better."

He paused, not sure how to respond to that. Finally, Tinyfrost looked back up to him. "I haven't been a good mentor to you. I have been cruel and capricious, everything I strive not to be." He met Firepaw's eyes with his own determined gaze. "But I swear on Starclan, if you give me another chance, I will be better. The kind of mentor you deserve."

Firepaw hesitated a moment before dipping his head politely. "It's not like I have much choice, do I? Bluestar assigned me to you." He was skeptical of everything the tom had said, but if he was being truthful, then he would certainly take the chance to be freed from further torment.

The black warrior chuffed lightly at his words. "I suppose so." He admitted. "But you always have a choice, Firepaw. Even if it may not seem like it."

Firepaw tilted his head, not sure how to take his mentor's cryptic words. The silence stretched between them for what felt like ages before Tinyfrost turned away. "I'd like some time alone now." He mewed to his apprentice. "Why don't you spend the rest of the morning hunting for the elders? The Great Sycamore might be a good place to start."

Firepaw perked his ears in surprise. "Me? By myself? I- Are you sure?" Even though he had spent some time practicing hunting, his mentor had yet to let him try hunting for real, let alone by himself.

"Did I stutter?" The tom hissed as he whipped around to glare at Firepaw, tension hanging in the air for several moments before he relaxed. "Er- what I mean is, I think you've earned it."

Obviously this supposed new start wasn't going to be as easy as a flick of the tail for his mentor, but Firepaw wasn't about to let the opportunity pass him by. "Yes, Tinyfrost. I'll see you back at camp." The warrior only responded with a wave of his tail, leaving the young apprentice to turn and bound out of the hollow alone.

His paws thrummed with excitement as he trotted through the forest. He was free! Really and truly free, with no patrol or mentor behind him to watch his every move. Grinning to himself, he stopped to kick a few leaves into the air, watching with fascination as they twirled lazily above him. No one to tell him to go faster, or to hold his tongue, or to stop messing around. He had the whole time until sunhigh without anyone to bother him!

He stood there, breathing in the forest scents, letting the sunlight trickle down on his pelt, and listening to the birds chirping in the branches above. This was what he had imagined when he'd first entered the forest that being a wild cat would be like. He couldn't resist savoring it for a few moments before he continued onto his task.

His ears swiveled as he heard a crunching sound from nearby. It continued noisily, swishing languidly through the fallen leaves, apparently unbothered by the fact it was in Thunderclan territory. Whatever it was, he could tell it was big, or at least bigger than him. His thoughts raced with possibilities. A badger? A dog?

If he and Tinyfrost were going to start off on the right paw now, then perhaps proving how dedicated he was to Thunderclan would be a good start. Stealthily, he crept forward, careful not to make a sound until-

"Graaaar!" With a mighty battle cry, he flung himself into the side of the intruder, claws extended as he dug into the enemy.

"Aaaaah!" The screech of shock was intimately familiar, and it was with a jolt that Firepaw realized his claws were sinking into the fluffy, grey fur of his friend beneath him.

"Wha- Graypaw?" He let his claws go slack, a moment of weakness that allowed the other apprentice to throw him to the side. Twisting in the air, he steadied himself and dropped nimbly onto the ground, crouching down in a gesture of submission. "What are you doing out here? I thought you were supposed to be treating the elders for ticks!"

The other apprentice didn't hear him, his ears flat as he whirled around, dropping into a battle crouch. Several tense heartbeats passed before recognition finally glinted in the other's yellow eyes. "Firepaw?" Graypaw gasped, taking in the form of the ginger tom. "What are you doing out here? Where's Tinyfrost?" He looked around for the black tom, fur bristling as though he expected him to burst out at any moment. "You didn't kill him, did you?"

"What? No!" Firepaw lashed his tail at the accusation. "He gave me the rest of the morning to go hunting for the elders by the Great Sycamore. By myself, no less!"

Graypaw perked his ears in disbelief. "This is the same Tinyfrost that's been hanging on you closer than your own shadow?" He asked skeptically, pacing around as he shook off the adrenaline.

Firepaw shook his head. "I know, right?" He could still scarcely believe it himself. "Look, I'll tell you the whole story later, I promise. Anyways, what are you doing out here?" He finally stood up, letting his muscles relax at last.

The other tom blinked, eyes wide as he remembered. "That's right! Sandstorm scented a fox while she was out hunting, near Snakerocks. Bluestar sent me to tell the Shadowclan border patrol to check it out once they were finished, see if they could find its den or drive it off." He hesitated, glancing to Firepaw. "Maybe you should come with me. The Great Sycamore isn't far from Snakerocks, and the fox could be lurking around there…"

Firepaw thought it over for a few moments before shaking his head. "I can't. Tinyfrost finally seems to trust me, and I don't want to mess it up by disobeying his orders immediately." He grinned at the other apprentice. "Besides, I showed you that I can handle a fox, didn't I?"

"Did you ever!" Graypaw flexed his shoulders with a groan. "I feel like I took a tumble through a thorn thicket!"

Firepaw purred and nudged him with a shoulder. "Go on. I don't want to keep you from catching up with the border patrol."

"Right." The fuzzy tom shook himself out and straightened up. "I'll see you back at camp. And you have got to tell me about what happened with Tinyfrost!" With a wave of his tail, he bounded off, leaving the other apprentice alone in the woods.

Energized by his fight with Graypaw, he turned and took off towards the mighty tree, paws barely skimming the forest floor as he dashed over great roots and weaved through their trunks.

It wasn't long before he came across the lone sycamore in the woods. Long ago, it had once been only a sapling on the border of a wide, shallow creek; that creek had long dried into sandy gravel, and the sycamore had grown into a mighty tree that towered over the others, the king of its clearing.

In the branches above him, he could hear robins and cardinals chirping merrily, but he didn't dare risk climbing the tree just yet. Instead, he scanned the clearing, ears perked and mouth agape as he searched for any sign of fresh prey.

A fresh scent drifted through the air. Breathing in deeply, he dropped into a crouch as he followed it. He realized it was a cat-scent, and a familiar one, but not that of a Thunderclanner. He paused, sniffing at the air as he tried to place it.

Smudge! As soon as it clicked, he abandoned his stealthy approach, searching the woods for any sign of his kittypet friend. He quickly spotted him, the black and white tom stalking clumsily towards an immensely unaware sparrow, too absorbed in its search for food to notice the two predators nearby.

He was half tempted to see how it played out, but he remembered all too well what Bluestar had told him, back when they had first met. It was clear Smudge wasn't here for him, but to catch a sparrow to show off to the other kittypets.

With a small sigh, the apprentice deliberately stepped on a particularly brittle branch, a resounding crack echoing through the air. The sparrow, finally sensing the danger it was in, immediately took to the air. Smudge, however, nearly jumped out of his fur at the sound. "W-Who's there?" He croaked out, bushing up as he looked around wildly.

"I am." Stepping through the long grass that was obscuring him, he let the sun shine on his fur. He perked his ears forward, eager to greet his friend as a new apprentice of Thunderclan.

To his surprise, the tom's eyes widened in shock. "I- I-" He stuttered, backing away. As he stumbled over a rock, he finally turned tail and ran, white-tipped tail tucked firmly between his legs.

"Wait! Smudge! It's me!" Firepaw trotted after him, trying to keep him in sight. "You don't have to run!"

Smudge slowed to a stop, looking back at him in abject terror. "W-who are you? How do you know my name?" He stammered out, pacing back a few more steps as his old friend walked towards him.

Firepaw halted at the edge of the clearing, making sure to leave plenty of space between them, though his heart ached to do it. "Don't you remember me?" He asked the kittypet softly. "We grew up together. I lived in the garden right next to yours!"

The black-and-white tom stared at him for several heartbeats, clearly dumbfounded, before a flicker of recognition ignited in his gaze. "Rusty?" He gasped, stepping forward. "You're alive!"

"Of course I am!" He purred, stepping forward to meet his old friend. "I go by Firepaw now, though."

His old friend's eyes were as wide as the moon as he slowly circled the apprentice, his fur prickling under the other's gaze. "You look so… different already." Smudge mused slowly. "So you really did join the wild cats?"

"I did." Firepaw straightened up, pride swelling in his chest. "I'm now an apprentice of Thunderclan, training to one day be a warrior."

"Woah…" The kittypet didn't try to contain his awe. He couldn't help but grin to himself at his old friend's reaction. To a kittypet, he must truly seem wild now, unlike how the rest of the Clan seemed to view him. "I had my doubts, but… it really does seem like the forest has been good to you."

He could see Smudge's tail droop and felt a pang of guilt. "It has. I wish you could have joined me, but I know you're happier with your housefolk." He glanced toward where the Twolegplace was. "How are mine doing, by the way?"

The kittypet sighed at the mention of Firepaw's former Twolegs. "They spent the first night searching for you, but they didn't go very far into the forest. I could still hear them the whole time." He looked down at his one white paw and began washing it slowly, drawing it over one of his ears. "The female still calls for you every night before the lights burn out."

He nodded slowly, shame creeping up at the thought of the pain that his housefolk must have felt at his disappearance. They would never understand where he'd gone; as far as they knew, he was dead. "She was always the kindest to me. She loved to have me sleep on her shoulder when she was relaxing at night." A purr rumbled in his throat in spite of himself as he remembered those warm occasions. "What about the other two?"

The black and white tom hesitated for a moment. "I… To be honest, they've moved on. Last night, I saw them bringing a covered cage into the house, and this morning, I saw a new molly sitting at the back window." He looked over the apprentice, trying to read the other's reaction. "I think they have the cat-door closed, so I haven't met her yet. I was actually out here looking for… uhm…" he hesitated shyly and scuffed the ground with his dirty paw. "Something to impress her with."

Firepaw wasn't sure how he felt about the news that they had a new kittypet. He had to admit that part of him felt upset that they would move on so quickly, but it had already been a half-moon since his departure. And, if he was being honest with himself, he hadn't thought about them since joining the Clan. With everything that had happened, and trying to impress Tinyfrost, he hadn't had time to think about them. "I see. I hope you two get along like you and I did."

Smudge seemed to deflate at the finality in his words, struggling to find anything to say to that. "I, uh, don't suppose you'd let me…?" He finally managed to ask, looking up to the ginger tom hopefully.

Firepaw shook his head. "You're on Thunderclan territory. If I let you take our prey, my mentor would be furious. We need everything we catch so that all of the Clan can eat." So far, he hadn't had to starve, thanks to the hunting skills of the other warriors, but he could tell some nights that they were getting the last scraps of the pile, not to mention the constant fretting over how the prey was running.

The kittypet nodded meekly. "I understand. You are looking a bit thin." He flashed a paw to his mouth as he realized what he'd said. "But very muscular! You've obviously been working hard!" He blurted quickly.

He purred at his friend's fumbling. "It's fine, Smudge. I probably haven't been eating as well as a kittypet, but I definitely feel more… alive." A breeze whistled through the trees, lifting his fur and bringing with it the scent of the forest. He let it hang in the air for a moment before realizing with a jolt that it held faint traces of Clan-scent. "You need to go."

Smudge hesitated. "Are you sure? We could catch up a little more. I'd love to hear about what you've been up to." He let his tail drift against Firepaw's for a moment, eyes bright.

It pained him to do it, but he shook his head firmly. "You can't stay here. My Clanmates, they're nearby, and not all of them are friendly to kittypets." He shuddered at the thought of Dustleap or Patchpelt finding them. "I'll show you back to the Twolegplace."

The black-and-white tom sighed and nodded. "I understand. I wouldn't want you getting in trouble." He then shrugged off the former kittypet's concern. "It's okay, I'm sure you have other things to do. I can find my own way back home." He quickly pressed himself against Firepaw before turning away to the Twolegplace. "It was good seeing you. I hope we can see each other again sometime."

Firepaw nodded, though in his heart he knew that they couldn't. "Just stay on your side of the fence from now on, okay? I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Of course." Smudge purred. "Goodbye, Rusty."

Firepaw didn't correct him as he walked away, beginning to pick his way clumsily through the wild bushes. He considered following despite the kittypet's refusal, to ensure the tom made it home safely. But, he thought begrudgingly as he looked to the sky above, there wasn't much time until sunhigh, and the Twolegplace border wasn't often patrolled. He would hopefully be fine.

Instead, he turned his attention to the forest at large, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply. Above him, he could hear a starling chattering away, probably furious about the predators close to its nest. The birds would be reluctant to land thanks to the warning, and the other prey nearby would be on high alert. With a sigh, he opened his eyes and began padding towards camp, opening his mouth slightly in the hopes of picking up a stray scent.

He hadn't gotten far when a fresh, warm scent drifted across his tongue. Immediately, he dropped into a crouch and began looking around, ears perked for the sound of prey skittering. After a moment, he heard the scratching of claws in the dirt, and with satisfaction spied a squirrel digging in the ground near a young alder tree. It wasn't even looking around, too focused on the ground below it.

Carefully, he stalked forward, remembering how it had felt when he had stalked the mouse on his first trip into the forest. His steps were light, his tail off the ground so as not to disturb any stray leaves, and made sure to position himself downwind. He paused only a few tail-lengths away from the squirrel, testing the earth beneath him as he gathered strength in his hindlegs. The bushy-tailed rodent in front of him was oblivious to it all.

He spotted a slight shine in the earth beneath it, and realized with a jolt that it was only moments away from unearthing some sort of seed and darting away. It was now or never. His heart racing, he leaped forward.

He landed with the squirrel squarely beneath his paws. The weight of his blow caught it by surprise, knocking the breath out of it before it could squeak its surprise. A quick, killing bite to the spine dispatched it, preventing it from alerting anything nearby.

As the blood spilled across his tongue, he felt a rush of joy unlike any he'd had before. With deadly precision, he had made his first kill, a kill any warrior could be proud of. No longer was he the puny kittypet that Smudge had known, nor the pathetic apprentice that Tinyfrost had wanted him to believe he was. With this first catch, he had proven himself.

Now at last, he was a true apprentice of Thunderclan.

#talonslock #warrior cats #wc #fanfic #the prophecies begin #talonslock story #fire and ice #thunderclan #firepaw #tinyfrost #smudge #graypaw

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pixyys · 1 year

Note

At this point, I'm just used to your jokes now. Still doesn't mean that I cringe whenever I hear them /j

Indeed, I suppose I could become novice musicians along with Lippmann. Do you want to join us? It might even be cheap because of a two-in-one deal. I'll keep on learning the piano while you two can learn the violin. Maybe learn some musician pickup lines to impress Lippmann later on.

And for the Chopin? I thought about it again, but I think that it isn't considered sacrilegious. It still sounds nice afterall, and I'm pretty sure Chopin wouldn't mind. But I prefer the piano version as it sounds more clear.

Please don't give your jokes to Lippmann or anybody else. I can put up with it as I'm your brother, but other people will simply die of the cringiness of your corny jokes lmaoo /j. And afterwards I'll actually decapacitate myself because of the amount of terrible jokes I've had to hear. Pianoman don't you dare xD

An old couple, you say? Well, I don't know how to feel about that; we aren't even together. I convinced Silver to finally take a nap, but she just couldn't sleep. So in the end I had to literally hug her and stroke her hair to help her fall asleep... my heart has never pounded so quickly and loudly before.

Oh, my dear sister, how you make me laugh. I just wonder how you haven't thought up of such an easy reply, but I guess I am a genius. And do not worry, your secret is safe with me, because I definitely do not want to be strangled by those wires while being bombarded with your corny jokes.

Really? Is that what you know him for? Well, that Dazai definitely is cunning and mischievous. I'd have you know that he went head-to-head with Iceman, and Iceman even failed to assassinate him, so he isn't a 'poor guy'. And please don't try your jokes on him. He'd quite frankly punch you.

-🎹

P.S. At least you think so? Well, pray tell, what happens in those 'romance novels' that you read? And as for the date? I think it's still too early... however I think I know what Silver feels for me

ahh this is exactly why i love you <3 finee, i'll tone it down with the "cringy" jokes, at least in your presence.

see? i was right when i said you should change your name to "genius man." do you need to ask? i'm definitely down for it. finally, i'll get another chance. this time with the musician pickup lines. there's really no going back if i mess up again. i just hope i won't embarrass myself in either that or my violin learning process. thanks, genius man!

hm. by the way, do you think lippmann is "lippmann" because he has pretty-looking lips? /lmaoooo plss im cryinf asdfjkl anyway-

ooh, i'm glad it isn't some form of artistic sacrilege. i sometimes listen to orchestra performances, but you're right. having a single musical instrument-say, a piano- dedicated to a single piece will make the performance much clearer.

ha! bet! maybe i'll start saying it to someone i probably won't meet again. like the barista i buy my morning coffee from! or the newspaper guy, or the old lady walking her dog down the street-okay that may be a bit too cruel. i'll probably still say one or two things to the men you stationed near our house though. to alleviate their stress and tension for a bit./lmao the saga continues

you.. you what?? brother, you don't even hold me and stroke my hair to sleep when we were toddlers. i think i'm missing something. oooh boy, when's the wedding day? i can't wait to be an aunt. i wonder if it's gonna be a boy? or a girl? or twins! everyone should be invited. we'll have the grandest celebration ever.

aww this is why i love youu (2nd edition). seriously though. err, does this 'nakahara chuuya' has bright orange hair and uh, quite petite in stature? i bumped into him when i was on my way to see you, and he looked quite.. severe. my tongue just acted on its own, and that "axolotl joke" came out. he did give me a nasty sting eye, but i didn't get punched! i guess that's a good thing..? ahaha..

p.s. you know of her feelings?? excellent. this is all according to plan. i'm just a little worried a possible misunderstanding might breach you apart, though. you know, what if she thinks you're feeling attraction to someone else after you asked her about that "crush"? that sounds like a recipe for disaster.

#lmaooo i live for pianoman's headache and distress #i let everything loose in this rp sksks pls tell me if i went too far/made you uncomfy #[rp with silver]

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 3 years

Text

Go Go Let's Go! Let's Go! Dateko! (Pt.1)

⚠️THIS FIC IS 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI ⚠️

Warnings: Swearing

Word count: 7000+

"You're looking at the face of the new captain of Date Techs iron wall" your son Futakuchi Kenji shouted as he burst through the front door of your humble abode.

"So they really went with you huh" you snicker "good maybe now you'll finally learn some respect for Moniwa and those other nice third years"

Kenji huffed as he set his bag down taking off his school tie and jacket.

"You know mom, most parents would be like 'oh my god Kenji I'm so proud of you we can order your favorite tonight I love you so much you sweet sweet child'" he mocks as you stare at him trying not to laugh.

"Since when has that been our relationship Kenji" you smile as you proceed over to your son.

You grab him forcing him into a tight squeeze "Oh I love my boy so much you are so precious I can't wait to go cheer for Date Tech every single game now" you gush as he tries to force his way from your grasp.

"Eww mom please stop" he says as he gags "I didn't mean that supportive. Please don't show up at our games."

"I don’t know Kenji those team mates of yours really do like me" you snicker as you turn around "I wouldn't ever want anyone to think I don't support my precious baby boy."

Kenji rolled his eyes as you laughed. You had always had a really good relationship with your son. You had him at the age of 20 while you were in a relationship with his father. Unfortunately the relationship didn't work out and his father left the area. You didn't see him much and neither did Kenji. You struggled as a single mom, finding your main support in your parents. You had a great relationship with them and the 4 of you together made up a tiny happy family.

Your parents helped you finish school while your mother watched Kenji. You graduated and getting the job you had worked years for. Now that you were established, things were going well. Kenji was doing well in school, playing volleyball for one of the top schools in the Miyagi prefecture and you were working long hours at a job you loved. No matter what you always made time for your son. He didn't really want you to attend his games so you would occasionally sneak into one watching from the nosebleeds. You loved seeing your son doing what he loved and you always encouraged him.

"So what does a team captain do" you ask as you place the order for your son's favorite take out.

"I mean I run pratices, lead drills and encourage the team" he says nonchalantly as he looks over his school work.

"Not a strong suit of yours Kenj" you smile as he shots a death glare at you.

"Well it's alot easier now that we have a manager to help too" he says.

"Oh you found one then?" You smile

"Yeah Nametsu Mai, she's a second year. She will be doing a lot of the note taking and helping with set ups. Also it's nice to have someone making bentos for the team" he says.

You look up from the bills on your counter "wait she's doing all that alone? That poor girl why does she have to do all that?"

"It's her job mom chill" Kenji says as he laughs at your outburst.

"And your job Kenji is to make sure your team runs efficiently so I expect you to be helping you" you turn as you raise your eyebrows at him.

"Mom ser-" Kenji starts as he sees the glare in your eyes.

"I'm 100% serious Kenji. If you don't help that girl I swear to God that I will be front and center at every single match. Every single tournament with a giant sign in the shape of your face and a shirt that says 'I'm Futakuchi Kenji's number one fan'" you glare as his eyes widen.

"Ok mom ok ill invite her over to help her my god you're mean" he says as you smile.

"I'm off Friday so I can help you make bentos too. You really suck Kenji at doing anything domestic" you smile as you walk to the door to get the takeout you ordered.

Kenji shakes his head as he groans.

Thank God I'm only captain for 1 year he thinks as he signs going to help you get the food.

Friday approaches quickly as the team gears up for their first round of tournaments

"Mai" Kenji calls as he motions for her to come over

"Yes Kenji?" Mai says with a bright smile

"So I want to help you prepare meals for the team for the tournament" he says.

The team stops. Mai looks at him in shock. Middle blocker Aone Takanobu just stares. Fellow outside hitter Obara Yutaka smiles as Libero Sakunami Kōsuke looks on in complete shock.

"Stop looking at me like that! I'm a helpful person!" He screams as they all go back to their activities.

"Ahh it's ok Kenji I really don't need he-" Mai waves shaking her hands.

"Just come to my place tonight ok" Kenji says as the gym doors suddenly burst open.

Coach Oiwake Takurō just shakes his head as he witnesses to former 3rd year volleyball players parade into the gym.

"Well hello our precious underclassmen" Former Middle blocker Kamasaki Yasushi shouts as he walks over to the team.

Kenji just shakes his head "you guys really must lead boring lives if you always have to come bother us during practice. Haven't you found a job yet Kamasaki?" Kenji smirks as he sees the third year began to get heated.

"And here I thought you changed Futakuchi" he says as he goes to grab the captain by the collar.

Suddenly someone yells "Aone" and Aone goes to break up the fighting duo.

"Still no respect for your upperclassmen I see" Former captain Moniwa Kaname says with a laugh.

"Well since you're here you might as well make yourselves useful" Kenji says as he stares at Kamasaki "go block for me."

Kamasaki loosens his tie as former wing spiker Sasaya Takehito says as he shakes his head "not again."

Practice ends as the team clears the gym. Mai and Kenji walk to the Futakuchi residence.

As they approach, Mai looks at Kenji.

"You really don't need to help me" Mai says "it's my job as manager."

"I know Mai but you see- umm well my mom kinda insisted I help you" Kenji says "she's a bit- much."

They walk to the front door as Kenji opens it. Y/N comes running from the kitchen to greet her son and hopefully their team manager.

"KENJI I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DIDNT BRING-" you stop as Kenji just stares at you.

"Oh hello! You must be Mai!" You say extending your hand to the young girl.

"Hello Ms. Futakuchi! It's so nice to meet you" Mai says as she bows, saying Y/Ns hand.

"You as well! Kenji you didn't tell me how cute she was! You must get attention for all the boys" you smile as Mai blushes.

"Mom seriously" Kenji says as his face turns read and he walks away putting his and Mai's bags on the floor.

"What? It's true! But take it from me honey, boys are nothing but trouble! Look at Kenji" you say as you smirk to your son, Mai trying to hide her giggling.

"Ok mom did you just invite her over to ridicule me?" Kenji says to you completely unimpressed

"Nope I can do that without inviting her over! Now let's go to the kitchen Mai" you say as you lead the young girl to the kitchen.

You and Mai work to prepare bentos as you put Kenji to work where you need him.

"Honestly Kenji just stay out of the way" you shout.

"Mom why did you even ask me to invite her over?! I'm literally doing nothing" he says as he sits at the table

"Yes and you're terrible at it" you roll your eyes.

Mai finds your relationship with Kenji amusing and lighthearted. She can tell you have a great relationship with your son and you both feel comfortable picking on each other.

"Ok that's the last of it Mai. You did such a great job! The boys are so lucky to have you. And if they ever say anything rude to you, you let me know and I'll take care of it" you nudge Mai as she giggles.

"Oh don't worry Ms Futakuchi, Coach Oiwake makes sure they appreciate me" she smiles.

"Coach Oiwaka? I don't think I've met him" you turn slowly looking at Kenji

"Why would you need to mom? You always tell me you're happy to get rid of me to whomever will take me off your hands" he says to you in a mocking tone.

"Still! Is he cute?" You say as Mai laughs out loud

"Mom we are not having this discussion " Kenji says as he places his hands over his ears and walks out of the kitchen.

"Well is he?" you say smiling at Mai.

"For an older man, yes" she says giggling "he's been divorced for a few years now. No kids to speak of. He's pretty dedicated to being the coach"

You smile. It's been forever since you've been out with a man. After Kenji's father left, you were top focused on your career and school to even consider dating, let alone be intimate. It had been at least 5 years since you last had sex. Honestly you weren't even sure that was accurate.

"Ms. Futakuchi" Mai says to you as you stare off into space "umm Ms. Futakuchi?"

"Oh gosh I'm sorry Mai! Just thinking. How about we keep the bentos here and I'll bring them tomorrow morning before you leave?" You smile as Mai nods.

"Heck maybe I'll even get to chance to see this gorgeous coach of yours" she winks

"LA LA LA MOM I CANT HEAR YOU" Futakuchi sings from the other room as you both laugh.

Saturday morning approaches as Kenji leaves early to help load the bus. You leave the house at 7:30 in your leggings and old date tech t shirt, figuring it would just be a quick stop to drop off the bentos and back home to enjoy a day free from Kenji and responsibilities as an adult.

You arrive at the school and see the bus outside. It seems like the team is in the gym so you quickly grab the box making your way to the gym. You start to press the door open as you enter slowly.

Coach Oiwake looks up from his notes to see a beautiful young women standing holding an entire box of bentos.

Who are you? And how in the world are you so attractive?

"Kenji you jerk get over here and help your poor mother" you say sarcastically as the team snickers.

"More like 'poor me having to deal with my MOM showing up to my volleyball gym’" kenji rolls his eyes as he quickly walks away from you.

"Love you too sweetheart" you blurt out as every laughs and Coach Oiwake smiles.

"Futakuchi is this really your mother?" Coach says as he watches Kenji out the bentos on the floor.

"Unfortunately yes" Kenji says as he rolls his eyes rejoining his team.

You turn to walk out as Coach Oiwake stops you.

"Mrs. Futakuchi, hello I'm Coach Oiwake Takurō" he says as he extends his hand to yours.

"Oh no 'Mrs' please. Just Y/N" you say as you blush.

The team is observing your interactions.

"Awe that's so cute" Mai gushes as Obara places a hand on Kenji's shoulder.

"Man I don't blame coach at all. Your mom is hot" Obara laughed as Futakuchi glared at him.

"Can we please load the bus and stop talking about my mother? Kenji says.

"Well Y/N we very much appreciate you helping Mai with the Bentos" Coach Oiwake says to you as you smile.

"Don’t mention it Coach Oiwake! Kenji should be doing it anyways AS THE CAPTAIN" you sarcastically shout to him as he walks by you.

Coach Oiwake laughs "I can see where Futakuchi gets his whit Y/N and please call me Takurō."

You smile.

"I hope you'll be able to make it out to the tournament this weekend. I know the boys would appreciate the support" Takurō says as Kenji snaps his neck around.

"Oh no coach my mom is busy this weekend right MOM" Kenji says as he bores holes into your face.

"Actually I don't work this weekend Kenj! Hey that's a great idea! I'll come to support our boys" you shout as you go to hug your son.

Takurō laughs as he watches how cute you interact with your son.

"I look forward to seeing you there Y/N" Takuro says as he turns around winking at you.

Is the coach really flirting with me? you think as you giggle to yourself.

"Oh my god" Kenji shouts as he walks away "Oh don't worry sweetie I promise I won't cheer too loud for my precious angel" you tease as you bid the team and Kenji a farewell.

Damn I need to get to know her Takurō thinks as he smiles as you walk away.

taglist: @axoxtxhxh

#dateko #date tech #Oiwake Takuro #justiceforthehaikyuucoachs #haikyuucoaches #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#team mom series #teammom #team mom

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