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shiorihyugawrites · 4 months ago

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Diamond Of The First Water

In the aftermath of war, Paradis finds itself in need of powerful alliances. When Emperor Armand of Valoria offers his military aid in exchange for the hand of his daughter, Princess Solina, in marriage, Captain Levi Ackerman is thrust into an engagement that begins as a political strategy but soon becomes something much deeper.

Princess Solina, sheltered from the world and unaware of the realities of love and war, finds herself drawn to Levi—the man known as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. As they navigate royal customs, public expectations, and the growing threat of Marley, the bond between them deepens into a genuine connection.

But neither Solina nor Levi are prepared for the challenges of a political marriage, the weight of intimacy, and the secrets that lie beneath the surface. As Solina enters a new life with Levi, her naivety is tested, and Levi faces a battle unlike any he’s fought before—the fight to protect his heart.

Can their love flourish in the midst of war, duty, and danger? Or will the forces conspiring against them tear them apart before they can find peace? (Levi x OC)

Chapter Forty Four (Part Two)

A/N: Please read PART ONE first if you haven't already

Two Months Later

The sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and gold as the warm evening air settled over the estate. Dimaria leaned against the wooden fence that overlooked the stables, her eyes tracing the elegant movements of Midnight as the mare nibbled lazily at the grass. Elliot stood beside her, his arms resting on the top rail, the familiar scent of leather and horses clinging to his clothes.

They had managed to slip away, as they often did, to steal a moment for themselves. The past two months had been a whirlwind of secret meetings, lingering touches, and kisses that left them both breathless. But they never crossed a certain line. Elliot always made sure of that.

Dimaria, however, was growing restless. Not just with the physical restraint, but with the emotions swirling inside her. She had never felt this way before. What started as curiosity—an irritation turned intrigue—had grown into something much deeper. She wasn’t foolish. She knew what it was. Love. But she didn’t know how to say it. How to admit it. And worse, she feared what would happen if she did.

She turned her head slightly, watching Elliot from the corner of her eye. The way his brows furrowed in thought, the way his lips quirked when he was about to say something sarcastic, the way his deep blue eyes softened when he looked at her.

"You’re staring, Princess," Elliot drawled without looking at her, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

Dimaria huffed and crossed her arms. "I was not."

Elliot chuckled. "Whatever you say."

Silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that had settled between them often now—familiar, warm, and charged with an unspoken understanding.

"You ever been in love before?" Dimaria asked suddenly, the words tumbling from her mouth before she could stop them.

Elliot’s smirk faltered slightly, and he turned his gaze back to the field, thinking. "Not the kind that lasts," he admitted after a pause. "Had a few flings when I was younger. Thought it was love once or twice, but turns out, it wasn’t."

Dimaria bit her lip, her fingers curling around the fabric of her dress. "How did you know it wasn’t?"

Elliot sighed, shifting to lean on one elbow as he turned to face her more fully. "Because none of them ever made me feel like I’d fight the whole damn world just to see them smile."

Dimaria’s breath caught in her throat, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. She couldn’t look at him. Not when he said things like that. Not when it made her feel as if she might burst from the sheer weight of her emotions.

"And you?" he asked after a beat, his voice quieter now, more careful.

Dimaria shook her head, a small, humorless laugh escaping her lips. "No. I never even had the chance," she admitted. "Everything in my life was planned out from the moment I was born. Love wasn’t part of it. I was supposed to marry for status, not affection."

Elliot frowned, his jaw tightening. "Sounds miserable."

"It was," Dimaria murmured. "Until now."

Elliot stiffened slightly, his fingers twitching against the wood of the fence. He knew what she meant. He felt it too. This thing between them—it was real. But it was also dangerous. He was a stable master. She was a princess. No matter how much she had changed over these months, no matter how far she had come, there was still an undeniable reality between them.

"You ever think about what happens after this?" Elliot asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Dimaria turned to him, her emerald eyes searching his face. "What do you mean?"

Elliot exhaled through his nose. "I mean, eventually, you’ll leave this place. You’ll go back to your world, your life. And me?" He gave a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "I’ll still be here, shoveling horse shit."

Dimaria flinched at his words, a pang of something sharp and painful cutting through her chest. She had avoided thinking about that. About what came next.

"I don’t know what’s waiting for me back home," she admitted. "No one has written to me. Not my mother, not my father, not even my brother

Elliot’s expression softened, and for a brief moment, he reached out as if to touch her, but then thought better of it. "Maybe that’s a good thing."

Dimaria narrowed her eyes. "How is that a good thing?"

"Because it means you can choose for yourself now," Elliot said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Dimaria stared at him, realization dawning like the first light of morning. Choose for herself. No one had ever said that to her before. No one had ever suggested that she had the power to decide her own fate.

"Do you think I could?" she whispered, almost afraid of the answer.

Elliot finally turned to look at her fully, his gaze intense, unwavering. "I think you already have."

Her breath hitched, her throat tightening. She had. She had chosen to change, to embrace this new life, to let herself care for people she once deemed beneath her. And most importantly, she had chosen him.

Before she could stop herself, before she could second-guess, she reached out, grabbing onto the front of his shirt and pulling him toward her.

Elliot barely had a moment to react before her lips were on his, urgent, desperate, full of all the words she couldn’t bring herself to say.

For a moment, he froze, surprised by her boldness. But then, his hands found her waist, pulling her closer as he kissed her back just as fiercely. It was different this time. There was no hesitation, no careful restraint. This was raw, unfiltered need.

Dimaria melted into him, her fingers curling into his hair, her body pressing flush against his. She could feel his heartbeat pounding against her own, their breaths mingling, their world narrowing down to just the two of them.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads pressed together, Elliot let out a shaky breath. "You really are somethin’ else, Princess."

Dimaria smiled, breathless. "I know."

Elliot chuckled, shaking his head before pulling her into another kiss, softer this time, slower. And as they stood there by the fence, under the fading sunlight, they both knew—this wasn’t just a fleeting romance.

This was something real.

…

Later on that week, the marketplace was alive with movement and sound. Merchants called out their wares, the scent of fresh bread and roasted meat mingling with the crisp country air. Dimaria had never experienced anything quite like it before. She had strolled through the royal markets in Valoria, yes, but those were pristine, controlled, and carefully curated for nobility. Here, it was different. It was chaotic yet thrilling. People bartered loudly, children ran through the streets with sticky fingers from stolen sweets, and there was an undeniable energy in the air.

Elliot walked beside her, hands in his pockets, his blue eyes scanning the crowd with a casual ease. He was completely in his element, while Dimaria was still adjusting. She was dressed in a simple dress, her long blonde hair pulled into a loose braid down her back. She knew she must look like any other common girl walking beside a man like Elliot—someone who worked at the estate, perhaps a maid or a seamstress. The thought both amused and unsettled her.

“They’re staring,” she murmured under her breath as they passed a group of women who whispered to each other.

Elliot smirked. “They’re starin’ at me, Princess. Tryin’ to figure out how a stable master managed to land a beautiful girl like you.”

Dimaria rolled her eyes but hid a small smile. He had a way of making her feel special, even when he was teasing her. And the truth was, she liked the attention. Not because she was a princess, but because, for once, she wasn’t. No one bowed to her. No one whispered about her lineage. No one knew who she was.

She was just a girl on an outing with a man who made her heart race.

They came across a fabric stall first, the vibrant colors catching Dimaria’s attention. She ran her fingers along the silk and cotton, admiring the textures. The vendor, an older woman with a kind face, smiled at her.

“You have an eye for quality, dear,” she said. “Looking for something special?”

Dimaria hesitated, unsure. She had always worn the finest garments, ones chosen for her by seamstresses who followed the strict expectations of court fashion. But here, she could choose whatever she wanted.

Elliot leaned against the stall, watching her with mild amusement. “Go on, pick somethin’,” he encouraged.

She glanced at him before turning back to the fabrics. Finally, she picked up a soft green cotton fabric. It wasn’t overly luxurious, but it was simple and elegant. Something she could wear on the estate without standing out too much.

“I’ll take this,” she said.

The woman nodded and began folding the fabric neatly. Dimaria reached into the small pouch tied at her waist, pulling out a few gold coins.

Elliot arched an eyebrow. “Didn’t realize you carried around gold like it’s pocket change.”

She gave him a smug look. “My father may not write to me, but he still ensures I have a stipend.”

Elliot snorted. “Least he’s good for somethin’.”

Dimaria wasn’t sure how she felt about it. On one hand, she appreciated the financial freedom. On the other, it felt like hush money—a way to keep her comfortable so she wouldn’t complain about her exile.

They continued walking through the market, stopping occasionally when something caught Dimaria’s eye. She bought a set of pearl earrings, a small leather-bound journal, and a beautifully carved wooden hairpin. Each purchase was a small act of rebellion, a declaration of her independence.

At one point, they passed a bakery, the scent of cinnamon and honey wafting through the air. Dimaria stopped, drawn to the sweet aroma.

“Hungry?” Elliot asked.

She nodded, already reaching for another coin. But before she could hand it over, Elliot pulled out his own money and paid the baker.

Dimaria blinked in surprise. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Elliot shrugged. “Call it a date.”

Her cheeks warmed at his words. He handed her a warm pastry, and she took a small bite, sighing at the delicious taste.

“This is good,” she admitted.

Elliot smirked. “Told ya.”

They found a bench in a quieter part of the market, near a small fountain. The water trickled softly, providing a peaceful background to the lively town. Dimaria took another bite of her pastry, watching the people around her.

“You ever think about leavin’?” Elliot asked suddenly.

Dimaria turned to him. “Leaving where?”

“The estate. Valoria. All of it.”

She hesitated, the weight of his question settling over her. Before, she never would have considered it. Her entire identity was wrapped in being a princess of Valoria, a daughter of the Emperor. But now…

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Where would I go?”

Elliot watched her carefully. “Anywhere you want.”

Her heart skipped a beat. He said it so simply, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. But for her, it was terrifying.

“Would you leave?” she asked, turning the question back on him.

Elliot leaned back on the bench, stretching his arms along the back. “Never thought about it much. This place is home. Horses don’t judge, don’t scheme. They just are.”

She envied that about him. He was so certain of who he was, so grounded.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the town move around them. Dimaria found herself reaching for his hand, intertwining their fingers. It was a bold move, one she never would have done months ago. But she didn’t care anymore.

Elliot squeezed her hand gently, running his thumb over her knuckles. “Y’know,” he said, voice low, “you don’t gotta figure it all out right now.”

Dimaria exhaled softly. “I know.”

For now, she would allow herself this moment. Sitting in the market, dressed as a commoner, eating pastries with the man she was falling for.

But then suddenly, Dimaria looks over and sees a group of children, and her entire world shifts.

They are huddled together near the entrance of a crumbling alleyway, their bodies small and frail, their skin pale and dirt-streaked. Their clothes are nothing more than thin, tattered rags, hanging off their malnourished frames like fabric barely stitched together. She counts five of them—three boys and two girls, none older than ten. Their eyes, wide and sunken, dart around cautiously as if they expect someone to chase them away at any moment.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Dimaria had always known poor people existed. She had heard about them in passing conversations at court, discussed by nobles in the same way one would speak of bad weather—unfortunate, but ultimately not their concern. She had been raised in luxury, told that those who suffered did so because they had not worked hard enough, or because their ancestors had made poor choices.

But now, looking at these children—alone, starving, shivering in the cold—it felt like something inside her cracked.

Her hands clenched at her sides as an overwhelming sense of guilt crawled up her spine. How had she lived her entire life not knowing this? How had she gone so long without witnessing what was happening to the people outside the palace walls?

One of the boys, the eldest, who couldn’t be older than ten, instinctively moves in front of the younger ones as Dimaria approaches. His dirty hands ball into fists, his thin body stiff with wariness.

“Stay back,” he warns, his voice hoarse, as if he hasn’t had water in days.

“I…” Dimaria falters for a moment, realizing that even now, even stripped of her noble gowns and titles, she must still look like someone who doesn’t belong here. “I just want to help.”

The boy doesn’t relax. “We don’t need your help,” he snaps, though his sunken eyes betray him.

Dimaria swallows down the lump in her throat, turning swiftly on her heels. Elliot watches her carefully as she moves with a purpose, slipping into the nearest bakery. He follows behind her, silently observing as she approaches the counter.

“I want everything you have,” she tells the baker, her voice firm. “Bread, pastries, anything that can be eaten right away. And I want it packed quickly.”

The baker, a heavyset man with flour dusted on his apron, blinks in surprise. “That’ll cost you, miss.”

Dimaria reaches into the small coin purse tied to her belt and pulls out a handful of gold pieces. The baker’s eyes widen at the sight of the shimmering coins. “Will this cover it?” she asks, her tone impatient.

“More than enough,” he says hurriedly, waving at his apprentices to start packing the food.

Elliot leans against the counter, arms crossed. “Didn’t think you had it in you, princess,” he murmurs, though there’s no mockery in his voice this time. Just quiet approval.

Dimaria doesn’t respond. She doesn’t feel like she deserves praise for something so simple.

Within minutes, the baker hands her a bundle of food, the warm scent of fresh bread and sweet pastries filling the air. Without wasting another second, she hurries back toward the children.

When she returns, the eldest boy still stands defensively in front of the others, his thin frame tight with suspicion. But when he sees the large bundle in her arms, his guarded expression falters.

“I brought food,” Dimaria says softly, carefully lowering the bundle to the ground in front of them. “Please, take it.”

The youngest, a little girl no older than five, peeks out from behind the boy, her wide, hungry eyes fixated on the bread.

“Go on,” Dimaria urges gently.

The boy hesitates for another long moment before he finally grabs a loaf, ripping it in half and shoving a piece into the little girl’s hands.

The rest of the children don’t need further encouragement. They dive into the bundle, devouring the food as if they’re afraid it will disappear if they don’t eat fast enough.

Dimaria watches them, her chest aching in a way she doesn’t fully understand.

Then, as they eat, she reaches into her coin purse again and pulls out more gold. She kneels and presses the heavy coins into the eldest boy’s hands.

His head snaps up in shock. “What—?”

“This should be enough to buy you more food, clothes, shelter,” she tells him, her voice barely above a whisper. “Take it.”

The boy stares at the gold in his hands, his lips slightly parted in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

Dimaria nods.

He looks at her for a long moment, as if trying to figure out what kind of trick this is. When he finds nothing but sincerity in her face, his fingers tighten around the coins. His throat bobs as he swallows hard.

“Thank you,” he finally says, his voice rough with emotion.

Dimaria exhales slowly. “Take care of them,” she says, glancing at the younger children, who are still eating hungrily.

“I will,” the boy promises.

She stands up, stepping back as Elliot moves beside her. She can still feel the boy’s eyes on her, but she doesn’t look back as she and Elliot walk away.

Elliot doesn’t say anything at first, just observing her carefully. Then, after a few steps, he lets out a low chuckle.

“Well,” he drawls, “never thought I’d see the day a princess of Valoria hands out gold to street kids.”

Dimaria presses her lips together, still feeling the weight of what just happened. “I never knew,” she admits quietly. “I never knew it was this bad.”

Elliot’s expression softens. “Now you do.”

They walk in silence for a while before Dimaria speaks again. “I want to do more,” she says, her voice filled with newfound determination. “Not just for them. For others like them.”

Elliot gives her a sidelong glance. “That so?”

Dimaria nods.

He lets out a small huff, shaking his head in amusement. “Guess you really have changed, huh?”

Dimaria isn’t sure what she’s feeling right now. But she knows one thing—this won’t be the last time she helps someone in need.

And for the first time in her life, she feels like she’s finally doing something that matters.

…

As more weeks passed by, Dimaria had changed.

Her entire world had shifted after that day in the market, after seeing those children, after realizing just how sheltered her life had been. The knowledge that people in her own country—her father’s empire—were suffering while she and her family lived in opulence made her stomach churn.

For days, the thought haunted her. Every bite of food she took, every luxurious piece of fabric she wore, every bath she soaked in felt wrong. She couldn’t ignore it, not anymore.

So she did what she had never done before. She sought out Princess Alice and asked for guidance.

Alice had listened, eyes warm with understanding, before pulling Dimaria into a hug. “I’m so proud of you,” her aunt murmured against her hair. “You’re finally seeing the world beyond the palace walls.”

Dimaria stiffened at first, but after a few moments, she relaxed into the embrace. It had been so long since someone had hugged her like this—gently, sincerely, without expectation or formality.

“I want to do more,” she confessed. “I want to help them. People like those children.”

Alice pulled back, studying her face with an expression of approval. “Then let’s get to work.”

With Alice’s help, Dimaria used her own fortune to start a charity, something she had never imagined herself doing. At first, it felt foreign, uncomfortable even. She had spent so long believing charity was something nobles did for the sake of reputation, an act of vanity rather than true goodwill.

She had believed that about Solina, too.

Now, she understood.

Her sister hadn’t started her charity for recognition or status. She had done it because she truly cared. Solina had seen the suffering that Dimaria had been blind to, and instead of ignoring it, she had acted.

Dimaria hated herself for ever thinking otherwise.

The shame sat heavy in her chest. She wanted to write to Solina, to tell her how sorry she was, to admit how wrong she had been. But every time she tried, her hands would tremble, and she would stare at the blank parchment, unable to form the words.

Would Solina even want to hear from her? Would she forgive her after everything Dimaria had done?

The guilt gnawed at her, but she buried it under her work.

Every week, she went out with the servants and stable hands, delivering food, clothing, and supplies to those who needed them. She visited orphanages, spoke to struggling mothers, handed out medicine to the sick.

And Elliot saw all of it.

He watched as she changed, as the spoiled, arrogant princess slowly gave way to a woman who was determined to make a difference. The transformation wasn’t instant—Dimaria was still stubborn, still a little hot-headed, and still had a sharp tongue when she was irritated.

But he had never admired anyone more.

He had never seen someone go from so utterly self-absorbed to selfless in such a short amount of time.

And damn it all, he was falling in love with her.

Elliot had always thought of love as something distant, something that happened to other people. He wasn’t the kind of man to be swept up in romance. He had his work, his horses, his life on the ranch.

But Dimaria had slipped past his defenses like a thief in the night.

Every time she smiled while handing a loaf of bread to a child, every time she gently brushed the hair out of Midnight’s eyes, every time she scrunched her nose when something didn’t go her way—Elliot felt himself sink deeper into feelings he had no business having.

Because one day, Dimaria would leave.

She would return to the capital. To the palace. To her father’s court, where her future would be dictated for her.

Elliot knew how these things worked. She was a princess. Her life had already been decided. She would marry some foreign nobleman to secure an alliance for Valoria.

She would never be his.

The thought made his stomach twist.

But still, he couldn’t stop himself from loving her.

And he couldn’t stop the deep, aching fear that one day, he would have to let her go.

…

A few days later, the letter arrived in the late afternoon, its pristine white envelope sealed with the unmistakable golden lily crest of the Lily House. Dimaria’s hands trembled slightly as she took it from the messenger. It had been months since she had received anything from the capital, months of waiting, hoping, wondering if her family had finally decided she was worth writing to.

The moment she saw her mother’s delicate, controlled handwriting on the front, her heart skipped a beat.

Lady Darcy.

For the first time in what felt like forever, a letter from home. A letter from her mother.

Dimaria swallowed hard, pushing away the emotions that threatened to bubble up. This was it. Maybe—just maybe—her mother had finally decided to check in on her, to see how she was faring, to tell her that she was missed. Maybe there was still hope that despite everything, she was still her mother’s beloved daughter.

With unsteady fingers, she broke the seal and unfolded the thick parchment. Her eyes scanned the words, her excitement quickly giving way to something much colder, something much heavier.

Her mother’s voice rang loud in her head as she read.

Dimaria, it is time for you to come home. The emperor has found you a husband—a prince from the Kingdom of Callidora.

Dimaria’s grip on the paper tightened, her knuckles turning white.

This marriage will restore your position at court. His Majesty believes it is in your best interest, as do I. This will be your redemption, our redemption. You have been away long enough. It is time to stop this nonsense and return to where you belong.

Dimaria read and reread the words, hoping—praying—she had misunderstood. But no, the meaning was painfully clear. Her mother hadn’t written to see how she was doing. She hadn’t written because she missed her. She hadn’t written to mend the distance between them.

She had written to tell her to fall back in line. To be a dutiful daughter. To become someone’s wife, not because of love, but because of politics.

Dimaria felt something crack deep inside her.

She had spent months transforming, shedding the layers of entitlement, of ignorance, of blind obedience to a world that had never truly cared about her as a person. She had worked tirelessly, building something meaningful, something real. She had found joy in things she never thought she would.

She had found love.

And her mother’s first thought wasn’t to ask how she was, if she was happy, if she was safe. It was to sell her off to some foreign prince to restore her own reputation.

Her breath came quicker, shorter. Her pulse roared in her ears as anger—no, fury—burned through her veins.

She would not go back.

She would not be used as her mother’s pawn anymore.

She would not be forced into a loveless marriage to please an empire that had already cast her aside.

With a sudden, sharp inhale, Dimaria crumpled the letter in her hands, her nails digging into the parchment. Then, with all the force of the rage boiling inside her, she tore it apart.

The delicate paper shredded easily in her grasp, falling to the floor in jagged pieces. She didn’t stop until it was nothing but scraps at her feet, as broken and meaningless as the words that had once been written upon them.

Her chest rose and fell in deep, heavy breaths, her hands trembling. But beneath the anger, beneath the betrayal, there was something else.

Relief.

She had made her choice.

For the first time in her life, she was choosing herself.

Dimaria lifted her chin, the fire in her eyes unwavering. Let her mother rage. Let the court whisper. Let the emperor be disappointed.

She was not leaving.

And she was not leaving Elliot.

Because he was the one thing in her life that was real. He was the one person who saw her for who she truly was and still cared for her. He didn’t want her for power or status or alliances. He wanted her.

Dimaria turned on her heel, striding out of the room.

She needed to see Elliot. Now.

…

The stables smelled of fresh hay and earth, the warm scent of horses filling the air as Elliot moved between the stalls, brushing down one of the mares. The afternoon sun slanted through the wooden beams, casting golden light across the space. It was a peaceful moment, the kind he had come to appreciate in his years of working here.

Then, the stable doors swung open with a bang.

Elliot barely had time to react before he saw her—Dimaria—storming in like a hurricane, eyes blazing with fury, her entire body tense with barely restrained emotion. Her usual elegant posture was gone, replaced by hurried, almost frantic steps, as if she were carrying something too heavy for her to bear alone.

He immediately set down the brush and stepped toward her.

“Dimaria?” His deep, gravelly voice was laced with concern.

She didn’t stop walking. She didn’t hesitate. Before he could ask another question, she was right there, her breathing ragged, her expression somewhere between rage and desperation.

Elliot reached for her instinctively, his large hands cradling her face, thumbs brushing against her flushed cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was softer now, laced with something deeper. Worry. Affection.

Dimaria’s breath hitched. Her eyes locked onto his—those piercing blue eyes that always saw right through her, that had been her steady anchor over these past months. And just like that, the dam inside her cracked, everything she had bottled up spilling over in a rush of words.

“My mother wrote to me,” she said, her voice shaking, though whether from anger or something else, she didn’t know. “She wants me to come back. The emperor—my father—has arranged a marriage for me. Some foreign prince from Callidora.”

Elliot stiffened, his jaw tightening. His hands remained gentle against her skin, but there was an unmistakable shift in his stance—like a wolf sensing danger, ready to protect what was his.

Dimaria swallowed hard, her emotions colliding in her chest.

“She didn’t ask how I was. She didn’t ask if I was okay.” Her voice wavered, but her gaze held steady. “She just wants me to fix her reputation. To crawl back and play my role like a good little princess.”

Elliot exhaled slowly, his grip on her tightening just slightly. “And what do you want?”

Dimaria’s heart pounded against her ribs. That was the difference between Elliot and everyone else. He wasn’t telling her what to do. He wasn’t deciding her fate for her. He was asking. He was giving her a choice.

And in that moment, she knew.

She didn’t want Callidora. She didn’t want to be some prince’s duty. She didn’t want to go back to a life where she was nothing more than a pawn.

She wanted this.

She wanted him.

Without thinking, without hesitating, Dimaria surged forward and crashed her lips against his.

Elliot’s breath hitched in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his arms wrapped around her, strong and secure, holding her tightly against him as he kissed her back with equal intensity.

The stable air was suddenly charged with something electric, something raw. It was need, relief, passion, all rolled into one.

Dimaria poured everything into that kiss—the months of longing, the late-night stolen glances, the way she had tried to pretend her heart wasn’t slipping from her grasp and into his hands.

And Elliot—damn him—he kissed her like he had been waiting for this moment all his life.

His lips were firm and warm, his touch possessive, like he was staking a silent claim. One of his hands tangled into her blonde hair, tilting her head slightly to deepen the kiss, while his other hand rested on the small of her back, pressing her closer.

Dimaria had kissed no man before him. She had never been allowed to, always told that her lips belonged to whatever nobleman her father deemed worthy. But this—this wasn’t duty.

This was want.

This was freedom.

And she wanted more.

Her fingers gripped onto his shirt, clinging to him as if letting go would shatter something fragile between them. Her body was fire, her heart hammering in her chest, her mind spinning with emotions too large to name.

Elliot was the one who finally broke the kiss, though he did it slowly, resting his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily.

His hands stayed on her, grounding her, as his blue eyes searched hers.

Then, in a voice that was softer than she had ever heard from him, he murmured, “Please tell me this ain’t just a rebellion against your Mama.”

Dimaria’s lips parted slightly, her breath still uneven. “It’s not.”

Elliot studied her, as if trying to see inside her soul. “You sure?”

She nodded, her hands tightening their grip on his shirt. “I love you.”

The words slipped out before she could stop them.

And they were true.

For a brief second, Elliot looked almost stunned, like he hadn’t expected those words—like he wasn’t sure if he had imagined them.

Then, slowly, his lips curled into the smallest, most genuine smile she had ever seen from him. His thumb brushed across her cheek, gentle and reverent, as he whispered back,

“I love you too, Dimaria.”

A tremble ran through her body, something between relief and pure joy. She felt weightless, like all the uncertainty, all the chains of her old life, had just fallen away.

Elliot loved her.

And she had never been more sure of anything in her life.

…

The days passed in a quiet, comforting rhythm at the estate. The autumn leaves turned golden, the air crisp with the promise of winter, and yet inside the warmth of the ranch, everything felt alive. Dimaria had never imagined she could love a place so simple, so different from the grandeur of the imperial palace, and yet she did.

Every morning, she rose with the sun, helping Elliot tend to the horses, brushing them down, checking their hooves, and preparing them for the day. She no longer flinched at the dirt under her nails or the occasional stubborn nips from the younger colts. She had changed.

But one thing that hadn’t changed was her mother’s persistence.

Lady Darcy’s letters kept arriving, week after week, each one more urgent than the last.

Dimaria had expected it. Her mother was not the type to give up easily, especially when she had a reputation to uphold. And with Dimaria ignoring her first letter, it only made sense that Lady Darcy would grow suspicious.

The first letter had been formal, almost detached—“Your father has arranged a marriage for you. You are to return immediately.”

The second was harsher—“You are making a fool of yourself, Dimaria. Do not disgrace the Lily House any further.”

By the third, the desperation was beginning to show—“Why have you not responded? Have you lost your senses? This marriage is the only way to restore your place in the court.”

And yet, Dimaria never saw a single one of these letters.

Because Alice had been throwing them away.

Not just losing them—deliberately tossing them into the trash with an amused smirk.

It was an accident, of course. A completely intentional accident.

Alice had never been particularly fond of Lady Darcy. The woman was vain, obsessed with courtly appearances, and had spent years trying to undermine the Rose House. And now she had the audacity to summon Dimaria back like a runaway child?

Alice wasn’t having it.

So, whenever the courier arrived, carrying yet another urgent letter from the capital, Alice would graciously accept it with a smile, thank the messenger, and then promptly dispose of it the moment she was out of sight.

The first time she did it, she had been subtle, slipping it into the kitchen fire while the staff prepared dinner. The second time, she had dropped it in the horse trough, watching as the ink bled into the water. By the third, she didn’t even bother hiding it—she simply tossed it into the trash with a chuckle.

She wasn’t about to let her darling niece be dragged back into a world that never deserved her.

Of course, Dimaria had no idea.

She was too busy living.

She spent her days working alongside Elliot, sneaking moments between chores where he would steal a kiss from her when no one was looking. She spent her evenings at the dinner table with the other stablehands, laughing, talking, being part of something real for the first time in her life.

For once, she wasn’t playing a role. She wasn’t just Princess Dimaria of the Lily House.

She was just Dimaria.

And it was liberating.

One chilly afternoon, Alice sat on the porch, a cup of tea warming her hands as she watched Elliot and Dimaria across the yard. They were working side by side, brushing down a large stallion, their voices soft but filled with ease.

Alice smiled.

She had seen it long before either of them had admitted it—the way Elliot’s eyes softened when he looked at Dimaria, the way Dimaria always lingered a little longer when Elliot was nearby.

Alice had never seen Dimaria so happy.

And she was not about to let Lady Darcy ruin it.

Just then, the sound of hooves on the dirt road caught her attention. Another courier.

Alice sighed dramatically. “Again?” she muttered to herself.

The young courier dismounted, approaching with his usual polite bow.

“Letter from the capital, Your Highness,” he said, holding out the sealed envelope.

Alice took it with a charming smile, fingers tracing the Lily House’s familiar wax seal.

And then, with zero hesitation, she flicked her wrist and tossed it into the trash beside her.

The courier blinked, his mouth opening slightly in shock. “Y-Your Highness?”

Alice waved a hand dismissively. “Oh dear, clumsy me,” she said without a shred of remorse. “Tell the palace it must have gotten lost on the way.”

The poor courier looked horrified but wisely said nothing, merely bowing again before rushing off.

Alice sipped her tea.

She had no regrets.

Let Darcy fume in the capital.

Dimaria wasn’t going anywhere.

…

Dimaria and Elliot were in the town square, their hands busy as they passed out food to the gathered crowd. The sun hung high in the sky, casting warm light over the bustling marketplace, where merchants called out their wares and children darted between stalls with mischievous grins.

Dimaria had grown accustomed to these outings, no longer feeling out of place among the people she once deemed beneath her. She handed a small loaf of bread to a frail woman, offering her a rare, genuine smile.

“Thank you, my lady,” the woman said, bowing slightly.

Dimaria shook her head. “Just Dimaria,” she corrected softly, still unused to the title being stripped away but no longer clinging to it like she once did.

Elliot, standing beside her, was carrying a sack of apples, handing them out to a group of eager children who looked up at him with wide, awed eyes. He ruffled the hair of one particularly shy girl before glancing over at Dimaria. She looked… happy. Peaceful, even. A sight he hadn’t imagined seeing when they first met.

Just as he was about to make a teasing remark about her charity work, voices drifted over from a shaded corner of the square. Two men stood near the well, their conversation low but intense.

“…did you hear? Princess Solina abdicated.”

Dimaria froze.

Elliot caught the shift in her demeanor immediately, his body tensing as he turned toward the voices.

“No way,” the other man scoffed. “The Diamond of Valoria? Abdicate? Are you sure?”

“Yep! Apparently, she did it in front of everyone in Paradis. Right there in the middle of the gathering. Told the emperor she wanted nothing to do with his war.”

Dimaria’s breath hitched.

Her sister—the Solina she had spent years resenting, the one who seemed to always be perfect in the eyes of their father, the one Dimaria thought had everything handed to her—had walked away from it all?

“I still can’t believe it,” the first man continued. “And Prince Solomon too, the emperor’s own heir, gave up his title as well. The whole Rose House stayed behind in Paradis. They refused to return to Valoria with the emperor. Can you imagine the uproar in the capital?”

Dimaria could barely breathe.

Her sister abdicated? Solina, who had everything? She had given it all up?

And Solomon too?

The emperor had lost two of his children in a single day.

Elliot glanced at Dimaria, watching the color drain from her face. Her grip on the basket of bread was so tight that her knuckles turned white. He gently reached for it, prying it from her stiff fingers before she crushed the loaves inside.

She barely noticed.

“And what about the emperor?” the second man asked. “Surely he’s furious.”

“Furious doesn’t begin to cover it,” the first man muttered. “Word is, he’s pressing forward with his plans for war anyway. Wants to take the Southern Continent. He planned to drag Paradis into it, but with his daughter cutting the alliance short, he’s scrambling for another way.”

Dimaria’s mind reeled.

Solina cut the alliance?

Her sister had defied their father?

“Speaking of which, how do you think she’s surviving?” the man went on. “She threw away everything, didn’t she? No title, no royal funding. You think she’s struggling out there?”

Dimaria’s chest constricted.

She hadn’t thought about that.

How was Solina surviving?

She had never known a life without wealth, without privilege. Without protection.

Had Solina truly given up everything?

Dimaria didn’t even realize she had stumbled back until Elliot’s firm grip landed on her shoulder, steadying her. She turned her head slightly to look at him, but her vision was swimming.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice low.

She wasn’t.

She felt like the air had been stolen from her lungs, like the world had tilted off its axis.

Solina had abdicated. Solomon had abdicated.

And their father was still determined to wage war.

Dimaria’s hands clenched into fists.

For so long, she had resented Solina. She had believed her sister was the favorite, that she was the one their father cherished most. She had loathed how Solina had been crowned the Diamond while Dimaria had been cast aside.

But now, for the first time in her life, she understood.

Solina had never been some untouchable, perfect figure. She had never been basking in their father’s unconditional love.

She had been suffering too.

And she had walked away.

Dimaria had spent months thinking no one cared about her, that she had been left to rot in exile. But the truth was, Solina was probably suffering more than she had.

And she still stood by what she believed.

Dimaria swallowed the lump in her throat, turning toward Elliot with wide, uncertain eyes.

“I need to write a letter,” she whispered.

Elliot nodded, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll help you.”

She exhaled sharply, blinking rapidly.

For the first time in her life, Dimaria wanted to do the right thing.

And that started with facing her sister.

…

Dimaria sat at the small wooden desk staring down at the blank parchment before her. A candle flickered beside her, casting long shadows across the room, but her focus was solely on the untouched page in front of her.

She had been trying to write this letter for the past hour.

Each time she picked up the quill, dipped it into ink, and pressed it to paper, she hesitated. And then, without fail, she would sigh in frustration, crumple the parchment, and toss it to the growing pile of discarded letters at the edge of the desk.

She didn’t even know what to say.

She wasn’t sure if Solina even wanted to hear from her.

Dimaria leaned back in her chair, exhaling sharply as she ran a hand through her golden hair. The last time she had spoken to Solina, it had been filled with snide remarks and veiled insults. She had spent years resenting her sister, blaming her for everything wrong in her life. How was she supposed to undo all of that in a single letter?

She glanced toward the stable doors, where Elliot was working on tending to a few horses. He was within her line of sight, methodically brushing down one of the mares, the rhythmic strokes of his hands calm and steady. He must have sensed her frustration because he glanced up, blue eyes meeting hers across the distance.

“You’re stressin’ yourself out over that letter, aren’t you?” he called over.

Dimaria frowned, tapping the quill against the desk before sighing again. “It’s useless. Every time I try to write, I feel like an idiot.”

Elliot set the brush down and strode toward her, his boots making soft thuds against the stable floor. He leaned a hip against the desk, crossing his arms as he looked down at her. “No one’s expectin’ you to get it right on the first try,” he pointed out. “If you’re not ready to write to her, maybe you should find another way to show her you care.”

Dimaria’s brows knitted together. “What do you mean?”

Elliot gave her a knowing look. “You’ve got resources, Dimaria. Wealth. Your family—Solina, Solomon, and the rest of them—could use that now more than ever.”

Dimaria straightened at that. Her mind reeled. Why hadn’t she thought of that before?

She had spent so much time agonizing over what to say that she hadn’t realized she could help in a far more tangible way.

Solina had abdicated. She had walked away from her title, her wealth, and all of the luxuries that came with being a Valorian princess. And Solomon had done the same.

Lady Solana had stayed behind in Paradis, bringing Soleil, Solenne, and Solandor with her.

None of them likely had the financial support of the emperor anymore.

Dimaria had assumed her father would have at least ensured they were well taken care of, but after hearing how determined he was to push forward with his war efforts, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

Her sister—her family—might actually be struggling.

Dimaria felt something tighten in her chest. Guilt, perhaps. She had spent so much time being angry at Solina that she never once considered how hard this must be for her.

She turned back to Elliot, her jaw set with newfound determination. “I can send money,” she murmured. “Not directly—Solina would never accept it if she knew it was from me. But I can send it discreetly.”

Elliot watched her with quiet approval. “Sounds like a plan.”

Dimaria didn’t hesitate any longer. She pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment, dipped her quill into the ink, and began writing out the necessary arrangements.

She would make a series of large transactions, ensuring that the funds reached Solina, Solomon, and Lady Solana without drawing too much attention.

It wasn’t difficult—she still had access to her vast fortune, and as long as she signed off on the documents, the transactions would go through.

But she was careful.

She kept her signature small and unobtrusive, written in the bottom corner of the page. It simply read:

Her Imperial Highness, Princess Dimaria of the Lily House.

It wasn’t enough to alert suspicion, but it was there—just in case her siblings ever did realize where the funds were coming from.

Elliot peered over her shoulder, watching as she sealed the documents. “Feelin’ better now?”

Dimaria hesitated, then nodded. “A little.”

She didn’t know if Solina would ever forgive her.

But at the very least, she could make sure her sister never suffered.

And for now, that was enough.

…

Present Day

Across the sea in Paradis…

The night air was crisp, a gentle breeze drifting through the slightly open window of the small cottage. The scent of pine and earth filled the room, grounding Solina in the present, but her mind was racing too fast to allow her any peace.

She was in Levi’s arms, curled against his chest as they lay together on their bed. His strong, steady heartbeat was usually enough to lull her into calmness, but tonight, her thoughts refused to settle. Her fingers absentmindedly traced small patterns against his shirt as she stared into the dimly lit room, her mind replaying the discovery over and over again.

Dimaria.

Their secret benefactor was Dimaria.

It didn’t make sense.

Solina had been wracking her brain for an answer, trying to understand why her sister—who had spent years resenting her, competing with her, hating her—would suddenly send money to help her and Solomon.

She exhaled, shifting slightly against Levi, unable to keep her thoughts from tumbling out. “I just… don’t understand it.”

Levi, who had been silent up until now, rubbed slow, soothing circles against her back. His voice was low and steady. “You’re thinking about her.”

Solina sighed. “Of course I am.” She shook her head, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. “It’s Dimaria. She never did anything for me unless there was something in it for her. I don’t know why she’d do this.”

Levi didn’t respond right away, just continued to hold her, letting her sort through her emotions. Finally, he murmured, “You haven’t seen her in months, Solina. People can change.”

Solina scoffed, pulling back slightly to look at him. “Dimaria doesn’t change.”

Levi’s expression remained unreadable, but his steel-gray eyes studied her carefully. “Did you?”

That made her pause.

She blinked at him, slightly taken aback by the question. “What?”

“You changed,” Levi said simply. “You’re not the same princess I met when I first got to Valoria. Hell, you’re not even the same person you were five months ago.” He reached up, tucking a strand of her loose curls behind her ear. “People change, Solina. Even the ones you least expect.”

Solina frowned, chewing her lip as she let his words sink in.

Had she changed?

Of course she had.

The Solina from before wouldn’t have dared to stand against her father, let alone abdicate her title and everything she had ever known. She had been so sure of her world, so sure of her place in it.

But then she had fallen in love with Levi. She had seen the people of Paradis for who they truly were, not the ignorant, barbaric islanders that many Valorian nobles whispered about in court. She had realized the corruption, the greed, the violence that fueled the empire she once called home.

And she had changed because of it.

So was it possible? Could Dimaria have changed too?

Solina let out another sigh, shaking her head. “Even if she has, why would she help me? Why would she help Solomon? She has no reason to.”

Levi hummed lowly in thought. “Guilt, maybe.”

Solina blinked. “Guilt?”

He shrugged. “If she’s been out of the capital for this long, away from her mother’s influence, away from court, maybe she’s finally seeing things for what they are.” He gave her a pointed look. “You said she was close to you once, before all the competition, right?”

Solina hesitated, her fingers curling against his shirt.

A long time ago, before Lady Darcy’s words poisoned their bond, before the imperial court turned them into rivals, Dimaria had been her closest sister. They used to have sleepovers almost every night as children, whispering secrets under the blankets, giggling late into the night.

But those days felt like a lifetime ago.

Solina let out a tired sigh, closing her eyes. “It’s just… hard to believe.”

Levi didn’t press her any further. He simply held her tighter, resting his chin atop her head. “You don’t have to believe it right now. But don’t ignore it either. You might be surprised.”

Solina remained silent for a long moment, her mind still uneasy, but she let herself relax into Levi’s embrace.

She still wasn’t sure what Dimaria’s motives were.

But one thing was certain—the Dimaria she once knew was no longer the same.

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monbellemonstre · 10 days ago

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(@strxgxi from here)

Si beau… It is a rare and anomalous moment, when Lestat can fluster Armand so thoroughly and so quickly that there is little time for temperance or patience, clemency or leniency, things which he knows the elder vampire covets and seeks to make his own. But the indignation, the resentment, the sheer bitterness within the elder vampire's initial outburst, it stained that beautiful cherubesque face with a shadowed acrimony that only Armand's true age and nature could exemplify. The face of a nursling nip, the smoothness of false innocence, and what lay deeper still, underneath... Une bête sanguinaire. Lestat felt very much in those moments how he had felt the first time he had ever seen Armand. He wanted to bathe him in perfumed oils and wrap his body in crushed velvet embroideries, to worship him, to break him, and to be broken by him all the same. He felt in control, a conductor surrounded by a loyal orchestra, and that control made him feel safe. As did, of course, the familiar stirrings of chaos and savagery that he had been born into, both in mortal life and when Magnus had brought him unwillingly into the Blood. Ashen eyes glistened, the pale colors undulating as they captured bits of light from the fire and the various blues and violets of their surroundings as they followed every step that the elder vampire took. When Armand gave that ominous little peal of laughter and approached the mortal sitting on the plush sofa there was a fluttering of excitement in Lestat's abdomen, a warmth that only came from the oncoming violent evidence of his lover's returned affections. He knew what was about to happen. After all, he'd practically orchestrated it line for line, just like his beloved playwright. A script carved out of mortal flesh and bone, fragile and destined for ruin. The moment the mortal soars up into the air and impacts the ceiling with a dull thud Lestat lets out a sound of jovial amusement that quickly transforms into deep laughter, particularly as the mortal gives a shout and falls back to the floorboards. "HahahaHAHAAAAAAA!" The sound is followed by the clapping together of Lestat's palms, twice, his face the very picture of entertained. "Ohhhhh, mon amour, tu m'amuses!..." He reached into his breast pocket to retrieve his own cigarette box with another little chuckle of amusement, though he used a match to light the end of his cigarette. The scent of mortal blood began to perfume the air as the man's face impacted the floor directly, giving a lovely crunching sound. "You say I am childish for wanting to have my evening meal in the comfort of my own living space, and yet... here you are, tossing that poor wretch about... comme un enfant détruisant ses propres biens parce que ses parents l'ont contrarié. C'est comme si je rentrais à la maison..." He paused a moment to take a long drag of the cigarette, filling his lungs with smoke that coiled from between his lips as he finished speaking. "Tu vas abîmer le plafond, mon amour…"

#strxgxi #lestat de lioncourt muse #v: savagery and seduction ; amc (circa TBD)#cw violence #cw blood #cw smoking #cw cigarettes #: Show Must Go On :#// oh lestat is positively LOVING this sajsdkghs

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ysomtt · 4 months ago

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🔎ARMAND GAMACHE🔎 X READER

🔮THE CARDS WILL TELL🔮

A/N: Hello! I was super inspired yesterday so i wrote this! My tarot jurney is realy short so i am sorry if there are inaccuracies!

AO3

It was one of those days, not a "murder" day, but just a "eh" day. He often had those now that the whole thing with the rich woman from three pines was done. It was a heavy case you knew that, i messed with him but you knew that more were to come. How? The cards obviously!

You never claimed to know the future, no one does, you simply can see the possibilities and paths that may be taken. The future was another thing that you wanted to pass far away from, and apparently so did Armand…

When he entered the room you were the most relaxed, half naked, pijama pants, socks and of course your favorite deck of cards. Armand never asked for you to read them for him so you never did, but today was different. "Okay darling i will bite. What do they say?" He said leaning against the door "i though you were never going to ask!" you slapped the cushion in front of you with enthusiasm. It was not everyday that mr. Im a cop i like concrete evidence encourages your practice.

As he sat you were quick to scramble that cards "Okay, what do you want to know?" It was incredibly cute how excited you were for this, it was clear he was just humoring you and didn't really believed in all of this but boy oh boy he was about to be surprised…

"Just give me some general advice." he huffed starting to unbutton his clothes to get more comfortable. As you picked three cards from the pack you frown trying to get the overall message. "Well, basically, you are a borderline workaholic who cant understand when to stop. Just take it easy and don't try to rush things, they will be clear in their time." "Well my job doesn't really like the slowing down of things…" he tries to disguise the fact that the cards hit a bit to close to home. You now take 5 cards and start to arrange them in a line with two cards crossing the one in the middle. "Now this is were you are;" you point to the one at the bottom "A simple man who wants to change the world but doesn't know how; and here is what you want to get to;" you point at the one in the top and finally at the two in the middle "This is one of the ways you can get to them, with patience and determination, don't be afraid to take things slow, but those two are your obstacles, learn to be humble, don't get to cocky and ruin everything and most importantly don't wait for others to do what you do best;" He listen to you with love and admiration in his eyes, its wonderful to see you so entranced by something, the way your eyes shine, your sweet and enchanting smile, the way your arms move to explain something its oh… its addicting to see you that way… oh, and the advice was good to i suppose.

As you looked back at his dreamy smile you were taken a back. his shirt was unbuttoned, his tie was long gone, his hair was a mess and his eyes, oh his eyes, they were like precious stones or even better, the stars that guided travelers, for you were a traveler now, your soul was searching for his and by the gods, you found him…

"Now you own me a kiss…" you whisper. "Why?" "Its the rules, never read tarot without something in exchange…" he chuckles as he kisses you, what would you do to hear that laugh every day for the rest of your life…

#molina verse #three pines #alfred molina #fanfic #armand gamache #armand gamache x reader #x reader #fanfiction

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allegra-writes · 2 years ago

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"Baby Claudia and The Vampires"

Lestat De Lioncourt x Louis De Pointe Du Lac

All Human, Rock Band AU. Kid fic. Drabble.

General Audiences

Warnings: None. Tooth-rotting fluff.

There is someone everyone Lestat knows seem to love more than they love him. For once, he is ok with it.

SERIES MASTERLIST | MY MASTERLIST

For as long as Lestat could remember, he had always felt torn inside. A part of him longing to be a rockstar, longing for the adrenaline and the lifestyle, the fast pace of it all, the long nights, the crows, the fans; another part of him longing for the simple life he never got to have as a child, the routine, the support of his own little family, the comfort of coming home to a house that wasn't empty and cold but filled with laughter, joy, the smell of fresh homemade food and even one or two messes here and there…

It seemed like whatever he choose to do with his life, he was always going to feel the lack of something. He didn't think he could ever have them both, have everything... Until he met Louis.

Louis De Pointe Du Lac had had enough crazy days -and nights- as a teenager and a young adult that by the time he turned thirty, his hunger for adventure was completely sated. Partying, drinking, gambling and gluttonous whoring held no appeal to him anymore. He was perfectly happy to live a quiet life as an English teacher… Until he met Lestat.

Their lifestyles couldn't be more opposed, their worlds more different. But you know what they say about opposites, and so Lestat and Louis fell for each other like rain falls in July in New Orleans. And against all odds, somehow, their love worked.

And suddenly, Lestat was able to blend together both aspects of his dreams, both sides of him, so seamlessly and naturally, it made him wonder why he had ever thought about them as antithetical in the first place.

He didn't missed staying out till later at night, because he knew the real fun woud start when he got home. Or sometimes to the car, when Louis and him were too impatient to keep their hands off each other any longer. He didn't envy the models watching his bandmates record their parts from the other side of the glass, because his husband was far more beautiful than any of them. He didn't envy their sports cars cause now he owned something far more precious than any expensive watch or drones or toys, and he needed a backseat to carry it.

No, the jewel currently in his arms was getting him more attention than any flashy possession he could think of.

Little Claudia was currently perched on his knee, banging the drums with all the might her toddler arms were capable off, as he juggled keeping her balanced and keeping the huge noise canceling headphones rightly placed on her tiny head to completely cover her teeny baby ears. He could feel Louis' hawk eyes on the both of them even from the other side of the glass, and it was totally unnecessary, cause he was perfectly capable of keeping his baby girl safe. But far from finding it annoying, the thought of his husband worrying and loving the delicate being he was holding as much or even more so than himself did, made him love Louis even more.

He had never thought that was possible.

"Alright, Lestat, I think thats a wrap. We totally have what we needed" Daniel’s voice resonated through the speakers, the red light turning off, signaling they weren't recording anymore and it was safe for him to talk now.

"Really? And how did she do?"

The goofy smiles from all his bandmates were a real sight: four grown men, looking every bit the rockstars they were, totally wrapped around the finger of his two year old.

"Amazing. She is a prodigy, Les, I'm telling you. We might have to replace you with her. Maybe even have her lead the band"

"Baby Claudia and The Vampires" Armand decided, making Lestat chuckled.

It had a nice ring to it.

Next part

#interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #loumand #lestat de lioncourt x louis de pointe du lac #baby claudia #kid fic #baby fic #fluff #human au #rockstar lestat

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lovelyrocker · 1 year ago

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Fool's Gold ch.4

Warnings: Being Flirty in a work setting, Smut, Language, Sneaking Around

Pairings: Armie x Reader (unofficial)

Characters: Armie Hammer, Reader, Roger (OMC)

Word Count: 4,143

Unbeta'd

“Stop here.” Y/N tells Armie as they come to the stop sign near her house. “Thank you.” She pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “For driving me and-” She kisses him again.

“Go!” He tells her with a chuckle, a hand on her arm.

“Bye!” She jumps out of the car and runs down the street to her house.

Y/N swings the door open, and her parents are waiting with their arms crossed over their chests, jaws set. “Where the hell have you been?!” Her father spat as soon as she walked through the door. “Do you have any idea what time it is?!”

“I’m sorry. I can explain.” Her shoulders dropped.

“No phone call, no text! And who was that dropping you off at the stop sign?!” Her mother pressed.

“That looked like Armand’s car.” Her father questioned, stepping closer.

“I-”

“Do not lie to me!” Anger was clear on his face.

“Fine!” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Yes, I was with Armie, okay?!”

“Why the hell were you alone with a grown man?!” Her dad’s voice grew. “Are you crazy?!”

“It’s not what you think!” She opened her backpack and handed her father a stack of papers.

He looked down at the papers in his hands then back to Y/N. “What are these?” He began going through them. “Are these college applications?”

She nodded. “Yes.” She took a breath. “He’s been helping me apply. He helped me choose which I wanted to apply to and then we went through each application.” Her father handed the papers to her mom. “You said to pay attention to him and that he could help. That he was smart and to take note. I figured he could help.” She shrugged. “We lost track of time and didn’t want it to seem weird, him dropping me off so late. I told him to drop me off at the stop sign. I didn’t want him to get in trouble for helping me.”

“Y/N,” Her father’s voice softened. “He can help you. I didn’t know he was doing all of this.”

She shoved the papers back into her bag. “He showed me where he went to college and helped me apply for all these scholarships. Scholarships I didn’t even know they had. And gave me all kinds of essay pointers for the applications. This dude is like my own private college application hack.”

Her father gave a chuckle. “I’m glad you are figuring things out.” He kisses her forehead. “Next time just call and let us know where you are. And maybe don’t put yourself in a position that looks so bad.”

“Yeah, sweetheart. He is an adult and you are still in highschool. It doesn’t look propper.” Her mother added.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry the two of you.” She gave a nod.

“Just make sure you don’t get in the way of him working either. Okay?”

“Yes, sir.” She hugged her dad before going into her room.

~~~

The next morning Armie was sitting in his office, focused on his computer screen when he heard a tap on his half open office door. He looked to the door to see Y/N’s father walk in with a stern look on his face. “Hello, Armand.” He walks in.

“Hey, Roger,” He leans back a bit and pulls his eyes from the screen as her father closes the office door. “Can I help you with something?” Armie’s brow slightly furrows. “Everything alright?”

“I- uh- I talked to Y/N last night.” He stood in front of Armie’s desk. “I know you dropped her. At the stop sign by the house.”

Armie stiffened, he swallowed hard as his body ran hot. “Oh?” Armie could feel his heart rate increase as he stood from his chair.

“Look, as long as she isn’t bugging or anything-”

His face drops as he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You and her, It’s great. You are helping her with the applications.” Her father repeats and Armie feels his whole body go numb with realization, relief washing over him. “I know she is excited about all these apps and is probably picking your brain with all these questions,”

Armie let out a nervous chuckle. “Oh, yeah,” He takes another breath he didn’t know her was holding.

“I just wanted to stop by and tell you how much I appreciate you helping her out how you’ve been. She is a very quiet kid and doesn’t really, well we weren’t sure she was still interested in college for a while. It’s good to know she is thinking of her future.”

“Yeah, it’s absolutely no problem. I’m just glad I can help her. She is a very bright young woman. Happy to help however I can.” The relief that is pulsing through his veins has him lightheaded as he leaned on the front of his desk.

“Like I said before, if she bugs you, send her on her way.”

“Will do.” Armie nods and Roger shakes his hand before walking out. As soon as the door closes behind him Armie runs a hand over his face as he takes another breath.

He pulls his phone out and dials, waiting as it rings. “Hello?”

“You could have given me a warning.” He leans back in his chair. “Your dad was just in my office. Thanking me for helping you with your applications.”

“It was the first thing I thought of when I got home last night!”

“Come to my office in,” He looks at his watch. “Twenty minutes.”

“Okay?” She tells him wondering what he wanted in the middle of the day. “Why?”

“See you in a bit.” He says and hangs up the phone.

Y/N was nervous when she got to his office building. But it wasn’t a scared nervous but an excited nervous. She was going towards Armie’s office when her dad stopped her near his door.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, I-”

“You shouldn’t be bothering him at work.” Her dad tells her with a sigh.

“I actually called her.” Armie spoke coming out of his office with a smile. “You got the application we were talking about?” He raised his brow, hoping she would catch on.

“Yes,” She said, quickly picking up on Armie’s hint. “and I got the info you texted me about the scholarship.”

Armie looks to her father. “I’m telling you this girl will be a top entry and any University in the fall.” He placed his hands on her shoulders standing behind her. “She has the most amazing transcript from her school and her grades are amazing.”

“So this is what you do with your early days, Armand?” Her father smirked. “Help people get into Ivy League schools?”

“I wouldn’t focus my time if I knew it wasn’t worth it. You know this Roger.”

“Told you, dad.” Y/N spoke. “He is my secret weapon. And have you seen his library!”

Her dad laughed as he walked away. She and Armie walked into the office and he shut the door. As she walked past him he grabbed her arm. “Not so fast.” He takes her books from her hands and tosses them on the small couch in the room. He pulls her bag from her shoulder and drops it to the floor. “You are a very good liar.”

“So are you.” She meets his glare.

He backed her up till she was against the door. “See,” His fingertips trail up her outer thighs. “I thought only bad little girls lied.” He slides his hand under her skirt and groups her rear. Her hands go to his chest as her eyes stay focused on his. “Being sneaky about this gets you all hot and bothered, doesn’t it?”

“A little.” She smirks at him.

His finger dipped into the waistband of her panties. “Let’s see how well you focus without these.” He pushes her panties down her hips and they fall to her ankles. Armie kneels and picks up the red laced fabric as she steps out of them. “Sexy.” He inspects the garment. He grins, seeing the little wet spot on the crotch of the panties. “Well, well.” He rubs his fingers over the dampness. “Aren’t you a horny little thing.” She doesn't speak, simply nods, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. He takes her panties and puts them into his pocket. "I'll keep these."

"You're gonna make me walk around with no panties?"

"Yes, I am." He walked over, sitting behind his desk. “Come by my place tonight, I'll give them back.” He grins as he goes back to typing. “Maybe. Consider it payback for not warning me about your little story to your dad. Leaving me get ambushed.”

“Oh, I see.” She walks over to Armie. “This is punishment.” She grabs his keys from the corner of his desk.

“What are you doing?” He looks over at her.

“Taking your house key.” She smiles over at him. “See you later.” She tossed the keychain back at him, she grabbed her bag and walked out the office.

~~~

When Armie got home from work, he walked into his house and the first thing he saw was Y/N sitting on the couch with books opened in front of her. He gave a soft chuckle. “You broke into my house.”

“It’s not breaking in if I use the key.” She answered, still writing in her notebook.

“Have you been here this whole time?” Armie asked, placing his briefcase down.

“Yeah. I fed Archie and let him out back”

“Where is he?” Armie looks around, not seeing his dog anywhere.

“Still outback, chasing squirrels.” She tossed her notebook aside. “You have no food to food, by the way. Not even to cook.”

“You went through my fridge?”

“I was gonna cook but you literally have frozen peas and tequila in there.” She stands.

“I don’t really cook.” He shrugged off his jacket. “It’s just me.”

“Your pantry is full of nuts and granola. Do you not eat anything with flavor?”

“I get it.” He grins. “I need to go grocery shopping.” He grabs her waist, stopping her from walking away. “What time do you have to be home?” He leans in close to her, pulling her back against him.

“My parents are at dinner, so not till late.”

He kisses down her neck and slips his hand beneath her skirt. “Mmm, I see you were a good girl.” He hummed, feeling nothing beneath.

“I can be.” She lifted her hand to the back of his neck.

He backs away and takes her hand. “Come with me.” Armie walks her through his house and pauses in front of his bedroom door. He pulls her into his bedroom, her eyes scanning around the only room in the house she’d never been in yet. He stops at the foot of his bed, his eyes burning through her. “You good?” She nods, reaching for his tie. She pulls it loose and drops it to the floor.

She reaches for the buttons of his shirt. “Don’t rush.” He takes her hands. “Hey,” He nuzzles her nose with his again. “Clear your mind.” He places his hands on her face. “Relax.” Kissing her lips gently he lays her back on the bed, guiding her down gently with a hand on her lower back the other bracing himself on the bed. Slowly he begins kissing down her body, leaving licks and nibbles over every new area he comes across.

He works her shirt open and gives a soft chuckle seeing the soft pink fabric of her bra. He pauses for a moment, licking over her cleavage, feeling her arch into him. He continues working his way down her body, He pauses at her waist and looks up, her eyes shut as she focuses her breathing. “You okay up there?” He gives a chuckle. She nods. “Words. Use them.” He reminds her.

“I’m okay.” She dares look at the man with his eyes so dark with lust.

He pulls her down the bed a bit as he sinks to the floor at the edge of the bed. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” She lets her head fall back.

“Have you ever let a guy do this before?” He carefully unzips her skirts. “Ever let someone taste you?”

“Uh, n-no.” She shakes her head, eyes still shut.

Armie presses a kiss on the inside of her thigh. “You sure you want this, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is breathy with want.

“Just breathe.” His hands slide along her body as he pulls her skirt away. He pushed her legs apart, keeping his eyes on her for any change in consent as he kissed up her legs. ”If you want to stop, just tell me. Okay?”

“Keep going.”

Armie lifted her leg, resting it on his shoulder. “Feel good?” He asks as he kisses higher up her thigh.

“Yeah,” She breathes a little heavier and he can hear the desire in her voice, his pants growing tighter.

He pressed a soft kiss to her sensitive bundle of nerves, hearing a gasp. Her folds were already glistening with want. He swipes his tongue between them, her hands gripping the sheets with another gasp. Armie slowly and delicately began to make out with her cunt as he kept an eye on her expressions.

“Oh my God!” She muttered, her hands finding pulling on the sheets. He sees her reach for him then dropping her hands.

Armie gives a soft smirk. “It’s okay, baby, you can touch me.” His voice sounds deeper and filled with lust.

Armie felt her hands go to his head, fingers twisting into his hair. “That feels so fucking amazing!” She tells him as Armie sucked on her clit, feeling her buck up to his mouth. She wrapped both legs around his shoulders as he worked, her back arching higher. She felt his tongue at her entrance and her toes curled. He pushed his tongue into her ever so slightly and another curse fell from her lips. He could see the gleam of sweat on her skin as her chest rose and fell. Her legs tightened around his face as he focused on her clit, he could feel her arousal coating his mouth. “Armie.” She whispered, unable to speak more than a single word. He went a little faster and she was coming undone, his hands holding her still as she writhed beneath him, back arched, his name falling from her lips over and over again.

When she stilled, legs still shaking he kissed up her body, stopping at her lips. “You taste so fucking incredible.” He murmured into her mouth.

“That was so amazing!”

She kissed him hard as he pulled her close to his body. “I’ve thought about doing that all afternoon.” He confessed laying back, pulling her to lay on his chest.

“Really?”

“Mhm.” He wrapped his arm around her. “You okay?”

“I’m better than okay!” She tells him with a smile, pulling him back on top of her.

Armie gave a laugh. “Slow down.” He backed away. “Give yourself a minute.”

“That just felt so good.” She told him, draping a leg over his hip. He hummed into her mouth, as she rubbed her naked body against him. “I can’t wait to feel you inside of me.” She whispers. His hands gripped her hips as she rocks her hips forward.

“You want more?” He asks in a deep, sultry tone that vibrates to her core.

“Please.” She begs.

Armie slides a hand between them and feels the wetness. “Fuck, you are so wet.” He lets his fingers slide through her folds. “Relax a little, okay?” Armie looks up, her forehead is on his, eyes shut, mouth open. She was so desperate. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he rubs between her folds again, coating his fingers with her previous release. “Have you ever fingered yourself before?” She shakes her head, her lower lip between her teeth. He rubbed over her entrance. “Can I?”

“Please.” She pleaded.

With one finger he pushes in gently, feeling the tightness and heat from inside of her. He watches her mouth fall open as she moves her hips closer to his hand. He moves his finger gently, in and out, feeling her heat. After a few minutes she lifted her leg onto his waist higher.

“That feel good?” He asked and she nodded, unable to speak. She felt a second finger slide into her, and Armie watched her brow furrow for a moment. “You okay?” She nodded again, her hand on the back of his head gripping his hair. He pressed a kiss to her lips as he crooked his fingers inside of her. Her whole body tensed as he felt a gush over his fingers, her body arched into him as she moaned into his mouth. “There you go.” Armie cooed. “Cum for me, pretty girl.” He kept working his fingers till she was a writhing mess beneath him as he hovered over her, lips just over hers as her mouth hung open in pleasure.

She started to come back to reality, her body shaking as he pulled his fingers from her, sucking them clean. “Relax.” He tells her as he sees her body shaking. “Enjoy the come down.” He kisses beneath her ear as she wraps her arms around his neck. He gave a chuckle into her neck “You are tight as fuck.” He sat back looking at her. “It's gonna be difficult not to nut right away in the pretty little cunt of yours.” She gave a laugh as she watched him watching her. She leans forward kissing him reaching for his pants. “Whoa, what are you doing?’ He grabs her wrists.

“You’re as hard as a rock.”

“I’ll take care of myself later.” He nuzzles into her neck. “This was about you. Making you feel good.”

“And I want you to feel good, too.” She gropes his cock again. “You’re not gonna deny me what I want now,” She bats her eyes at him. “Are you?”

“Fuck,” He exhales, letting his head fall back against the pillow. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” She asks innocently.

“That pouty, fluttering your eyelashes thing.” He lifts his head, pulling her onto his lap by her hips. “I can’t- ahh!” He hisses as she takes his cock into her hands. “Fuck baby.” He curses as she pumps her hands. His cock twitched in her hand as he watched her as she slowly releases spit on the head of his cock. He sits himself up and grabs her by the neck holding her in place as she keeps working him. His other hand pushed the sweat-dampened hair from her face. She stares at him, eyes focused only on him as she moves her hand more rapidly. He pulls her down and kisses her, his tongue immediately searching for hers. She kissed him back just as fiercely before he pulled away. She licked his lips before nibbling his bottom lip and started kissing down his neck. “Fuck, fuck!” He shouted just before cumming, coating her belly and his. Breathing heavily, he looked at her. “Fuck, how did you make me cum so quick?”

“It’s all in the wrist.” She told him, wiping her hands on the bottom of his shirt. He grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her slow and hard. “What was that?” She asked with a head tilt.

“I think I’ll keep you around for a while.” He smirked.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiled and kissed her again. “You should shower before you go home.” He nuzzles her nose. “You smell like sex.”

“Come with me?” She asked, looking up at him.

“You want me to shower with you?” He asked with a raised brow, and she nodded.

He pulled her up and led her to the shower where he undressed under her eyes, feeling his skin heating again at the thought of her watching him. He steps under the spout of hot water, taking her hand, guiding her into the glass shower with him. He turned to face the shower letting the water run over himself. She wraps her arms around his middle and begins pressing soft kisses across his back. He smiles as he lets his head fall under the shower, the steaming water trickling down his face. She gives a nibble to his right shoulder, and he chuckles.

“Behave.”

“I am.” She lets him go and turns. “What do we have here?” She grabs his wash. “This is what makes you smell so good.” She pours it into her hand and reaches up on her toes, rubbing it into his hair. The feeling Armie got at her doing this was one he didn’t expect. Her touches were soft and careful. She was playful but sensual in her movements. After showering she dried off and got dressed back into her uniform. “I hope I get home before my parents. I smell just like you.”

“Would you rather go home smelling like sex?”

“Good point.”

“Do they know you come here?” He asked, as they walked out to the living room. “I know they know you hang out at the office, but do they know you spend time here alone with me as often as you do?”

“I figure they do now after you dropped me off.” She sat on her feet on the couch, running her finger through his damp hair. “Does that bother you?”

“No, I just don’t want them to freak out.” “He grabs his phone. “Hungry? I’m ordering take out.”

“You need to eat more than take out.” She grabs his phone.

He reaches over her. “Give me that!”

“Nope!” She turns, keeping the phone from him.

“I’m way taller than you!” He reaches easily, yanking the phone from her hands.

“Unfair advantage!” She tells him as she sits at his side. “Do the burger place on Houston Street.” She tells him. "I want a large bacon cheeseburger.”

“Where are you gonna fit a large bacon cheeseburger?” He looks over at her.

“High metabolism.” She smirks. “I can eat like a grown man and nothing.”

“And when you get about thirty, you'll have love handles and a spare tire around your waist.” He pinches her side. “You want anything else, baby?” He looked back to his phone. She doesn’t answer. He looks back at her to see her staring at him. “What?”

“Uh,” She looks down for a second. “That’s the second time tonight that you called me that.”

“What? Baby?”

“Yeah. I thought this was casual?”

“It is. I just- I don’t know- it came out.” He smirked.

She nods with a soft smile. “Is it bad that I kind of like it?”

“Not at all.” He leans over and presses another kiss to her lips.

They talked and watched some random TV show as they ate their food. Halfway through eating their burgers she looked up at Armie. “Leave some cash on the counter. I’ll go to the grocery store for you tomorrow.”

“What?” Armie asks around a mouthful of burger.

“You have no time and are too worn out at the end of the day to get groceries.” She shrugs. “I’ll do it for you.”

“That’s sweet, but-”

“I’m not asking you.” She eyed him seriously.

He looked over at her challenging her. “Oh yeah?”

“Yup.” She repeated, taking a bite of her burger.

“Who do you think you are all of a sudden?” He kept looking over at her. “I’m a grown man. I can go out and buy my own groceries. Besides, you’ll just buy junk food.”

“I know the type of crap you eat.” She sips her drink. “Unless you want to get off of work after working nine hours, go to the busy grocery store, buy groceries, come home, unload them and then-”

“Fine, you win.” He tells her rolling his eyes. “And not because you made a point, I just wanted you to shut up.” He smirked.

“Good. Can I use your car?”

Armie nearly choked on his drink. “Nice try, babe, but no.” He placed his drink down. “That car costs more than a year and whatever fancy, Ivy league school you get into.”

“Worth a shot.” She fell back against the couch.

He leaned back and pulled her legs over his lap. “You can use the mustang though.”

She sat up excitedly. “Don’t play with me, Hammer.”

“As long as you have a valid driver’s license, you can take the mustang.”

“Are you serious?!”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God! Thank you! Thank you!” She hugged his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Yeah, yeah.” He shook his head. “Just don’t wreck it or I’ll make you work for the summer to fix it.”

#armie hammer #rpf #armie #armand hammer #Fool's Gold #ch. 4 #OMC #reader #reader insert #smut #Armand

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bubblegum-blackwood · 2 years ago

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Marius/Armand Appreciation Week

Day Seven - Masquerade Ball

"Glass Slippers"

Marius de Romanus sighed as he plopped himself down into the chair at the dining room table, casually throwing the stack of things that had come in the mail in front of him. He flipped through it - bill, bill, letter from his doctor, bill, magazine he had forgotten to cancel his subscription for . . . what was this? A pristine creme envelope, held shut with a red wax seal. It was addressed to him in neat, old-timey handwriting, but he could find no return address anywhere on the envelope as he turned the thing over in his hands curiously, examining the fine, heavy paper for any clue as to its origin; it yielded none. Intrigued, he broke the seal, taking out the piece of heavy cardstock hidden inside. In metallic gold lettering, framed in a gold flowering vine design, it said: You are cordially invited to Venice City University’s annual spring masquerade ball, hosted by the graduating class of 1995 for their twenty-fifth anniversary. The theme is black and white.

And under it was the date, time, school’s address, what building the event would be held in, and an email to RSVP to. Good lord, had it really been twenty-five years already since he had gotten his degree? It didn’t feel like it had been that long; he thought to himself with a small chuckle that this meant he must be getting old. And yet this had intrigued him, and he actually entertained the thought of attending this masquerade ball as he made his dinner - as a student, he had been too serious about his studies, too disdainful of many of his peers to buy himself a ticket to the event, but now he thought it might not be so bad, might be a more fun use of his Saturday evening than yet another few hours reading by himself, or at least a refresher because of the change in routine it would cause.

Ugh. Change in routine. On second thought, maybe he was fine not going.

But no, he was lonely, he needed to get out of his comfort zone a bit for once. The next morning he sent an RSVP and marked his calendar.

Now he couldn’t back out. He had said he would be there, so he had to show up now. My word is my bond.

So on the day of, he combed his grey-blonde hair, broke out his good tux, and drove to Venice City University for the first time in twenty-five years.

Read the rest on AO3!

#marius/armand appreciation week #vc #marius de romanus #armand #avicus #mael

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rafamundosims · 28 days ago

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Armand’s Party (5)

Justin finally introduced Tara to Angela — and he was right: Tara was absolutely charming. The moment Angela noticed, a familiar twinge of insecurity crept into her chest. She knew it was time to act.

The four of them sat down, chatted for a while, toasted to the night, and laughed together. Dirk was having a great time and definitely didn’t regret showing up.

After some time, Angela gently pulled Dirk aside and said:

— Did you notice the way Tara was looking at you?

— What? No… I didn’t see anything like that, Dirk replied, confused.

— You should talk to her. Just the two of you. You know?

— You think so?

— I’m sure.

— But how?

— Leave it to me. Just wait here.

Angela headed back inside and approached Justin.

— Justin, Dirk wants to get to know Tara a little better. Could you ask her to meet him outside? He’s waiting.

Justin lit up.

— Of course! I’ll grab her and we’ll go—

Angela gently grabbed his arm and whispered:

— Justin… alone.

Justin caught on immediately and chuckled.

— Ahh… got it.

Dirk stood outside, waiting — a little nervous, a little excited. When Tara appeared, he straightened up and said, a bit awkwardly:

— So… think we could get to know each other a little better?

And surprisingly — even though Angela’s plan was rooted in more personal motives than she let on — things between Tara and Dirk just… clicked. They shared so many interests, and before he even realized it, the conversation had taken a softer turn. Light flirtation began to weave its way in naturally, without either of them forcing it.

♢♢♢ NAVIGATION

Avoid using Tumblr’s pagination to browse the stories, since some posts are backdated and it causes a bug. Instead, use the links below to navigate.

First: Welcome to Pleasantview Cove!

<< Prev: Armand’s Party (4)

>>Next: Armand’s Party (6)

#thesims2 #ts2 #sims2 #ts2 gameplay en

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shiorihyugawrites · 7 months ago

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Diamond Of The First Water

Can their love flourish in the midst of war, duty, and danger? Or will the forces conspiring against them tear them apart before they can find peace? (Levi x OC)

Chapter Twenty Six

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the ship gently docked at the vibrant shores of Montessa, a stunning country known for its sprawling mountain ranges, lush jungles, and unique treehouse-style homes. The air was thick with the scent of exotic flowers and fresh rain, and the distant calls of tropical birds echoed across the dense greenery. The shoreline was framed by cascading waterfalls that glimmered in the sunlight, painting an almost otherworldly picture.

Solina stood on the deck of the ship, her green eyes wide with awe as she took in the breathtaking scenery. She clutched the rail tightly, her excitement bubbling over, though it was tinged with a bit of nervousness. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else.

Levi, standing beside her, nodded in quiet agreement. His sharp gray eyes scanned the horizon, lingering briefly on the towering jungle trees and distant mountains. Though he was usually indifferent to such views, even he couldn’t deny the natural beauty of Montessa. Still, he had more practical concerns.

“I just hope this treehouse place is clean,” Levi muttered under his breath, earning a soft chuckle from Solina.

“You really do think of everything, don’t you?” she teased, her lips curving into a smile. “Even on our honeymoon.”

“I just don’t like surprises,” Levi replied matter-of-factly, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. He turned to one of the maids, who had been tasked with helping pack their belongings. “Did you pack the extra cleaning supplies I asked for?”

The maid nodded quickly, stifling a laugh. “Yes, Captain. Plenty of supplies.”

“Good,” Levi said with a curt nod, seemingly satisfied. Solina tried and failed to hide her amusement, shaking her head fondly.

As the gangplank was lowered, they were greeted by a small welcoming party led by Montessa’s Prime Minister, a tall man with a warm, sun-weathered face and a sharp green ceremonial robe adorned with intricate gold embroidery.

“Welcome to Montessa, Princess Solina and Captain Levi,” the Prime Minister said with a gracious bow. “It is an honor to host you during your honeymoon. We hope your stay will be both relaxing and memorable.”

“Thank you for having us,” Solina replied, her voice polite yet warm. She offered a graceful curtsy, her nervousness easing slightly in the face of the Prime Minister’s kind demeanor. “Your country is breathtaking.”

“We’re glad you think so, Your Highness,” the Prime Minister said with a smile. “Your treehouse has been prepared to the finest standards of Montessian hospitality. You’ll find it nestled deep within the jungle, offering unparalleled privacy and views of our natural wonders.”

Levi inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Sounds good. Let’s get moving.”

The Prime Minister led them to a waiting carriage drawn by sturdy jungle ponies, their coats sleek and their harnesses adorned with vibrant flowers. The ride through Montessa’s winding jungle paths was mesmerizing, the dense greenery interspersed with vibrant blooms and glittering streams. Solina’s eyes darted to every corner, trying to take in as much as she could.

“Look at that,” she gasped, pointing to a family of monkeys swinging effortlessly between the branches above. “Aren’t they adorable?”

“They’re alright,” Levi said, though his gaze lingered a moment longer on the playful creatures before returning to the path ahead.

After nearly an hour of travel, the carriage came to a stop at the base of a colossal tree. Their accommodations for the next two days loomed above them: a grand treehouse perched among the branches, its wooden exterior blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings. A series of rope bridges connected various levels, and Solina could just make out the open-air terrace that provided a stunning view of the surrounding jungle.

“It’s… breathtaking,” Solina murmured, her voice filled with wonder.

Levi’s eyes narrowed slightly as he scanned the structure. “As long as it’s sturdy,” he muttered.

The Montessian guide who had accompanied them assured Levi with a smile, “Captain, the treehouse has been inspected thoroughly. It is both sturdy and clean.”

“Good,” Levi replied curtly, though his sharp gaze didn’t waver until he seemed satisfied. Solina bit back a laugh, finding his practicality endearing.

They ascended a series of wooden steps carved into the tree trunk, arriving at the entrance of the treehouse. The interior was even more impressive than the exterior. The space was airy and open, with polished wooden floors, gauzy curtains that swayed in the breeze, and elegant furnishings crafted from local materials. The centerpiece was the open terrace, which offered a panoramic view of the jungle and the mountains beyond.

Levi dropped their bags near the doorway, his sharp eyes scanning every corner. Solina, meanwhile, wandered toward the terrace, her breath catching at the sight of the sprawling jungle canopy below.

“It’s like something out of a dream,” she whispered.

Levi joined her after a moment, leaning casually against the railing as he watched her take in the view. “You’re happy with it?”

She turned to him, her face alight with excitement. “It’s perfect.”

He nodded, his expression softening as he watched her. “Good.”

The afternoon passed in a blur of exploration and quiet moments. Levi, true to form, insisted on checking the cleanliness of every corner of the treehouse, though he grudgingly admitted that it met his standards. Solina, on the other hand, spent much of her time on the terrace, sketching the view in the small journal she’d brought along.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the jungle in hues of gold and crimson, Solina and Levi sat together on the terrace, sharing a simple yet delicious dinner of Montessian cuisine. The sounds of the jungle at night—the hum of insects, the distant calls of nocturnal animals—created a serene backdrop.

Solina glanced at Levi, who was quietly sipping his tea, his expression calm and content. “Thank you for bringing me here,” she said softly.

He looked at her, his gray eyes meeting hers. “I should be thanking you. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

She smiled, warmth blossoming in her chest. For the first time since their journey began, she felt truly at ease. Montessa, with its wild beauty and tranquil atmosphere, was the perfect place to start this new chapter of their lives together.

…

That night in Montessa was stiflingly hot, the kind of humid heat that clung to the skin and made even the simplest movements feel exhausting. The large canopy bed in the treehouse was draped with a fine mosquito net, but that did little to alleviate the oppressive warmth. Solina lay sprawled on her side of the bed, her lacy nightgown sticking uncomfortably to her skin. She was practically melting, and judging by the quiet groan from the other side of the bed, Levi wasn’t faring much better.

“Is it always this hot here?” Solina asked, her voice breathy as she fanned herself weakly.

“Doubt it’s ever this bad on Paradis,” Levi muttered, sitting up to adjust the mosquito net. He tugged it tighter around the edges, ensuring there were no gaps, before flopping back down onto his pillow. “Mosquitoes are biting the hell out of me too.”

Solina giggled softly despite herself. “You’re their favorite tonight, it seems.”

“Yeah, lucky me,” Levi replied, his tone dry as he swatted at a bug on his arm. After a few moments of futile attempts to find comfort, he finally let out a sigh and tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. The sight of his bare chest glistening slightly from the humidity caught Solina completely off guard.

Her eyes widened, and she immediately turned her face away, cheeks blazing. He’s your husband, she reminded herself, this is normal… perfectly normal.

But as much as she tried to keep her gaze elsewhere, her eyes had a mind of their own, sneaking glances at him whenever she thought he wasn’t looking. Levi, of course, noticed almost immediately. His sharp instincts never failed him, even in the dead of night. He smirked faintly, amused by her shyness.

“You’re staring,” he said, his voice low but teasing.

“I am not!” Solina exclaimed, her tone a little too defensive as she whipped her head toward him. The way her face burned only made her denial more obvious.

Levi raised an eyebrow. “You’re a terrible liar, Princess.”

Solina huffed and crossed her arms, turning back to face the opposite direction. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to ignore the way her pulse quickened. But the heat was relentless, and even with the thin material of her nightgown, she felt like she was roasting. She shifted uncomfortably, her fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of her gown.

Her thoughts raced. It’s too hot. I can’t sleep like this. But… should I? Would it be improper? She glanced over at Levi from the corner of her eye. He was lying back now, one arm draped over his forehead, his expression calm and unreadable. He’s my husband… it’s not like I’d be doing anything wrong…

Her internal debate must have shown on her face because Levi turned his head toward her, his sharp gray eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s wrong?”

Solina froze, her lips parting as she struggled to find the right words. “I… um…” She bit her lip, looking away again. “It’s just… it’s really hot.”

“I know,” Levi said, his tone matter-of-fact. He shifted slightly on the bed, the movement drawing her attention back to him. “What else?”

Solina hesitated, her cheeks burning. “I… was thinking… maybe I should take this off.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she refused to meet his gaze. “It’s so uncomfortable, but… I don’t know if that’s… proper…”

Levi’s eyes widened slightly, and he cleared his throat, his ears turning a faint shade of pink. “If it’s bothering you that much, just take it off,” he said, his voice low but steady. “You’re my wife. You don’t have to ask permission. Besides…” He glanced away, his tone softening. “I won’t look.”

Solina turned to him then, her green eyes searching his face for reassurance. He met her gaze, his expression sincere. Slowly, she nodded, her heart pounding as she reached for the straps of her nightgown. Her fingers trembled slightly as she slid the fabric down her shoulders, revealing the soft curve of her collarbone and the delicate lace of her underwear. The cool night air kissed her heated skin as the gown pooled at her waist before she pushed it the rest of the way off, leaving her in nothing but her lacy underwear.

Levi sat rigidly, his body tense as he kept his eyes fixed on the mosquito net above them. But from the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help but catch glimpses of her. Her skin glowed in the faint moonlight filtering through the treehouse windows, and the delicate lace accentuated her figure in a way that made his chest tighten.

“Is… this okay?” Solina asked softly, her voice laced with nervousness.

Levi exhaled slowly, forcing himself to keep his gaze respectful. “It’s fine,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “Just… get comfortable.”

She nodded, lying back against the pillows, her long hair fanning out around her. Levi shifted to lie beside her, his heart pounding in a way that surprised him. He had never been one to lose his composure, but something about the sight of his wife lying so vulnerably beside him made him feel a mix of emotions he couldn’t quite put into words.

“Goodnight, Solina,” he murmured, his voice soft.

“Goodnight, Levi,” she replied, her voice equally quiet. Though the heat still lingered, the moment felt oddly serene, as if the world outside the treehouse had faded away, leaving only the two of them.

The night stretched on, the faint chirping of insects and the occasional rustle of leaves breaking the otherwise quiet atmosphere of the treehouse. Solina had managed to drift off to sleep, her soft breathing a soothing rhythm in the oppressive heat. Levi, on the other hand, lay stiffly on his side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling with a thousand thoughts racing through his mind.

He glanced to his right, where Solina was curled up, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow on her skin. Her delicate lace undergarments left little to the imagination, and her hair, slightly damp from the humidity, spilled across the pillow like a red waterfall. Her soft sighs in her sleep were almost too much for Levi to handle.

He let out a slow, steady breath through his nose. Pull it together, Levi. You’re a grown man, not some lovesick recruit fresh out of training.

But no matter how many times he repeated the mantra, it didn’t stop his heart from thudding painfully in his chest. This wasn’t just any woman—it was his wife. The realization made his stomach twist, not with regret or hesitation, but with something he hadn’t felt in years: vulnerability. Solina was kind, intelligent, and now here she was, lying beside him, completely trusting him.

He adjusted his position slightly, trying not to disturb her. Despite the heat, her nearness made the air around him feel even heavier. He was hyper-aware of every movement she made, even in her sleep. The way her lashes fluttered against her cheeks, the gentle rise and fall of her chest—everything about her was captivating.

Levi let out a soft groan and rubbed his face with one hand, his other arm lying rigidly by his side. "Get a grip," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible.

The faint buzz of mosquitoes around the net was the only other sound. He swatted at one that had somehow managed to find its way inside, his irritation mounting. Mosquitoes and this heat… great combination for staying calm.

But no amount of pest control could distract him from the fact that Solina was right there. The memory of her slipping out of her dress earlier played on a loop in his mind, and he found himself involuntarily glancing at her again. Her shoulder had shifted, exposing more of her collarbone, and a strand of hair clung to her neck. She looked peaceful, unburdened, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders.

Levi turned his head back toward the ceiling, his jaw tightening. Why is this so hard? You’ve faced Titans. You’ve fought battles where the odds were impossible. But lying in a bed next to her is enough to make you lose your composure?

He shifted again, feeling restless. The heat was unbearable, and his mind wouldn’t stop racing. Every time he tried to close his eyes, he could see her looking at him, hear her voice in his head, soft and full of trust. It wasn’t just physical attraction—it was the way she made him feel something he thought he’d lost a long time ago.

Levi sighed again, sitting up slightly and running a hand through his hair. He glanced at her one more time, and his gaze softened. He didn’t want to wake her; she looked so peaceful. Still, he couldn’t help but whisper, “You’re making this damn difficult, Solina.”

Her lips twitched slightly in her sleep, as if she’d heard him, and a small smile graced her face. Levi froze, his heart skipping a beat. He quickly lay back down, pressing his fist against his mouth to suppress the unexpected chuckle that threatened to escape. Even in her sleep, she’s got me wrapped around her finger.

He turned onto his side, his back to her, and tried to focus on the faint breeze filtering through the treehouse. But his mind stayed stubbornly on her. He wasn’t used to this—feeling so exposed, so vulnerable. And yet, with Solina, it didn’t feel like a weakness. It felt… safe.

As the minutes dragged on, he heard her shift slightly. He glanced over his shoulder to see her stretching, her arm brushing against his. She murmured something unintelligible before settling back into the pillow, her hand resting just inches from his.

Levi stared at her hand for a long moment before slowly, tentatively, placing his own hand over hers. It was a small gesture, but it steadied him. For the first time that night, he felt a sense of calm.

“Goodnight, Solina,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the night’s symphony. This time, he didn’t fight the warmth that spread through his chest.

…

The morning sun filtered through the lush canopy of the rainforest, casting dappled shadows on the wooden deck of the treehouse. Solina, dressed in a lightweight, flowing outfit perfect for the tropical heat, was practically bouncing with excitement as she adjusted her sunhat in the mirror. Levi, however, was packing his bag with a focused intensity, double-checking everything like he was preparing for battle.

“Are you sure you need a machete?” Solina asked, tilting her head to watch him from across the room.

“Yes,” Levi replied curtly, sliding the blade into its sheath and tucking it into his pack. He held up a bottle of mosquito repellent. “And this. Don’t forget to reapply every hour.”

Solina stifled a laugh as she tied her sandals. “You’re acting like we’re about to fight Titans in the rainforest.”

Levi shot her a dry look. “I’d rather fight a Titan than deal with another night of mosquitoes,” he muttered, scratching at his arm where a bite had left a red welt. “If anything jumps out of the bushes at us, I’m not taking chances.”

The idea of Levi battling a rogue monkey or snake in the rainforest was too much for Solina, and she couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. It’s a guided tour, remember?”

Levi merely grunted, slinging the pack over his shoulder. “Guided or not, I’m ready for anything.”

A soft knock on the door interrupted them. One of the maids entered with a tray of fresh tropical fruits and steaming cups of coffee. “Your breakfast, Princess, Captain,” she announced cheerfully, setting the tray on the small table near the window.

Solina thanked her warmly, her excitement bubbling over as she sat down to eat. She picked up a piece of mango and offered it to Levi. “Here, try this. It’s so sweet.”

Levi leaned back in his chair, eyeing the fruit with a skeptical expression. “I’m not a fan of sweet things.”

“Just try it,” Solina insisted, holding it closer to his mouth with a teasing smile.

With a sigh, Levi gave in, leaning forward to take the piece from her hand. His brows lifted slightly as the taste hit his tongue. “Not bad,” he admitted.

“See? You might actually enjoy yourself today,” Solina teased, popping a piece of pineapple into her own mouth.

Levi shook his head but couldn’t hide the small smirk tugging at his lips. “We’ll see.”

The rainforest was even more breathtaking up close. Towering trees stretched toward the sky, their trunks wrapped in vines and moss. Birds with brilliant plumage flitted through the canopy, their songs echoing in the humid air. Solina was mesmerized, her eyes wide as she took in the vibrant greens and the shafts of sunlight that pierced through the dense foliage.

Their guide, a cheerful local named Mateo, led the group along a narrow path. He pointed out various plants and animals, explaining their significance to the local ecosystem and indigenous culture. Solina hung on every word, occasionally pausing to marvel at a flower or a particularly colorful butterfly.

Levi stayed close behind her, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings. He didn’t relax for a moment, his hand occasionally brushing against the machete strapped to his side. The faint hum of insects was ever-present, and he made sure to swat away any that ventured too close to Solina.

“Look!” Solina exclaimed, pointing to a monkey swinging from a nearby branch. “Isn’t it adorable?”

Levi followed her gaze, his expression unimpressed. “It’s adorable until it steals something out of your bag.”

Solina laughed. “You’re so paranoid. It’s just a monkey.”

Mateo turned to them with a grin. “The Captain is wise to be cautious. Some of these little ones are very clever thieves.”

Levi crossed his arms, clearly satisfied with the validation. “See? Not paranoid—prepared.”

Solina rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her amusement. “You’re impossible.”

The tour continued deeper into the rainforest, the group pausing occasionally to admire hidden waterfalls and small, crystal-clear streams. Solina couldn’t resist dipping her fingers into the cool water, the sensation refreshing in the sticky heat.

“Careful,” Levi warned as she leaned over the edge of a rock to get a better view of a tiny frog perched on a leaf.

“I’m fine,” Solina replied, glancing back at him with a reassuring smile. She slipped slightly on the damp rock, and Levi was by her side in an instant, gripping her arm firmly.

“Fine, huh?” he said, arching a brow.

Solina blushed, her heart fluttering at the concern in his eyes. “Thank you,” she murmured, steadying herself.

As the tour wrapped up, the group made their way to a clearing where a small picnic area had been set up. Levi and Solina sat together under the shade of a large tree, sipping on fresh coconut water. Solina was still buzzing with excitement, recounting her favorite parts of the tour.

“That toucan was incredible,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I’ve never seen one up close before.”

“You liked the toucan?” Levi asked, his tone dry. “I thought you’d be more impressed by the giant spider web we walked through.”

Solina wrinkled her nose. “Don’t remind me. I thought you were going to cut it down with your machete.”

Levi smirked. “I considered it.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the rainforest surrounding them. Levi glanced at Solina, who was gazing out at the trees with a content smile. Despite the heat, the humidity, and the occasional insect, he couldn’t deny that this place was special. And seeing Solina so happy made it all worth it.

As the day went on, it was time for their next activity: Ziplining.

The afternoon sun filtered through the canopy of the rainforest, illuminating the zip-lining platform with golden light. The sound of birds chirping and the distant rustling of leaves added to the sense of adventure. Solina stood on the wooden platform, her face glowing with excitement as she adjusted her sunhat and gazed at the line stretching out before them, disappearing into the dense jungle below.

"This is going to be amazing!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing on her heels. "Ivoria said this was one of the best experiences of her honeymoon."

Levi stood a few steps back, arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning the setup. The zip line stretched far into the jungle, the end point nowhere in sight. The steel cables seemed sturdy enough, but the thought of flying through the air attached to one of them made his stomach churn—not from fear but skepticism.

"This doesn't look safe," he muttered, narrowing his eyes at the harnesses hanging on the racks.

Solina turned to him, her sunhat tilting slightly. "Levi, you’ve flown through forests and cities using ODM gear. This is nothing compared to that."

He grunted, clearly unconvinced. "ODM gear was tested and built for combat. This... is for tourists."

Before Solina could respond, the zip-line instructor stepped forward, clapping his hands to gather their attention. "Welcome, Your Highness and Captain Ackerman. My name is Miguel, and I’ll be your guide today. Let’s start with a quick rundown of the equipment and safety protocols."

Miguel held up a harness, demonstrating how it would strap around the thighs, waist, and shoulders. He explained the mechanics of the pulley system, the importance of braking at the end, and how to lean back to maintain balance. Solina listened attentively, nodding at every word, while Levi’s sharp gaze dissected every detail.

"It’s like ODM gear," Levi finally muttered under his breath, eyeing the harness.

Miguel gestured toward Solina. "Your Highness, if you’d like to step up on the platform, I’ll help secure your harness."

Levi’s eyes instantly flicked to the man’s hands, and his jaw tightened. He noticed exactly where the straps would need to be adjusted—between Solina’s legs and around her waist. The thought of another man’s hands so close to her body, even for something as mundane as a harness fitting, sent an unfamiliar wave of jealousy washing over him.

Before Miguel could take another step, Levi moved forward. His voice was calm but firm. "Step aside. I’ll handle it."

Miguel blinked in surprise. "Captain, I assure you—"

"I said I’ll handle it," Levi repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. Miguel hesitated but eventually nodded and stepped back, clearly recognizing Levi's commanding presence.

Solina’s cheeks flushed as Levi approached her, harness in hand. "Levi, you don’t have to—"

"I know how to strap in a harness," Levi cut her off, his movements efficient as he adjusted the straps. "This isn’t complicated."

Solina felt her heart race as Levi knelt slightly to secure the lower straps around her thighs. His hands were firm but respectful, his touch professional yet somehow gentle. She didn’t miss the faint pink dusting his ears as he worked.

"There," Levi said, stepping back and checking the harness one last time. "Perfect fit."

Miguel, standing awkwardly to the side, muttered, "It’s a flawless setup... Captain."

Levi shot him a brief, pointed look before turning back to Solina. "You’re good to go. Let’s see how safe this thing really is."

Solina was the first to zip-line, and her excitement was palpable as she stepped onto the edge of the platform. The jungle stretched out before her like an emerald sea, and the rush of adrenaline made her hands tremble slightly as she gripped the handles.

Miguel gave her a reassuring nod. "Lean back, Your Highness, and let gravity do the work. You’ll be fine."

Solina turned to Levi, who stood a few feet behind her with his arms crossed. Despite his usual stoic expression, there was a flicker of concern in his eyes. She smiled at him, her confidence bolstered by his presence. "See you on the other side!" she called out before taking a deep breath and stepping off the platform.

The moment the pulley caught the cable, she felt a rush of wind against her face. The world blurred into a cascade of green and blue as she zipped through the rainforest, the trees below appearing like tiny specks. Solina let out a laugh, exhilaration coursing through her veins.

Levi watched her go, his chest tightening. Despite his earlier doubts, she looked... free. The sound of her laughter reached him even through the rustling leaves, and for a moment, he allowed himself to relax.

When it was Levi’s turn, he tightened his own harness with practiced precision. Miguel offered to double-check it, but Levi waved him off. "I’ve got it," he said tersely.

Stepping up to the platform, Levi glanced at the cable and then at Miguel. "If this snaps, I’m coming back to haunt you."

Miguel paled slightly. "It won’t, Captain. I promise."

With one last glance at Solina waiting on the next platform, Levi stepped off. The rush of air hit him instantly, and the sensation was both familiar and foreign. It wasn’t unlike ODM gear, but the lack of control made him uneasy. Still, the view was stunning, and he couldn’t deny the thrill.

When he landed on the next platform, Solina was waiting with a radiant smile. "Wasn’t that incredible?"

Levi adjusted his harness, his expression neutral. "It was... fine."

Solina laughed, knowing him well enough to interpret that as high praise.

By the time they reached the last platform, Levi was more relaxed, though he still kept a wary eye on the equipment. Solina, however, was glowing with happiness, her cheeks flushed from the excitement.

"Thank you for coming with me," she said softly as they walked back to the main lodge. "I know you were skeptical, but I’m glad we did this together."

Levi glanced at her, his expression softening. "You were right. It wasn’t terrible."

Solina laughed, the sound bright and melodic. "I’ll take that as a victory."

As they reached the lodge, Miguel approached them with a polite bow. "Your Highness, Captain, you both did wonderfully. It’s not every day we see a couple tackle the entire course so gracefully."

Levi ignored the compliment, his focus on Solina as she beamed at the praise. "It was amazing," she said. "Thank you so much."

As they headed back to their treehouse, Levi carried her harness along with his own. Solina noticed the quiet contentment in his expression and felt a warmth in her chest. He might not say much, but his actions spoke volumes. He was here for her, every step of the way.

…

After their ziplining, the evening sun had painted the sky in hues of orange and pink as Levi and Solina made their way through the bustling town square. The streets were alive with laughter, music, and the scent of sizzling food wafting from the open grills and stalls. Strings of colorful lanterns illuminated the cobbled roads, casting a warm glow over the scene.

Solina’s emerald eyes sparkled with excitement as she clung to Levi’s arm, her white and gold dress flowing around her ankles. She looked radiant, her happiness infectious. Levi, ever composed, walked beside her, his sharp gaze sweeping the area. He wasn’t used to such lively crowds, but he found himself less tense as he caught glimpses of Solina’s pure joy.

“This is incredible!” Solina exclaimed, her voice almost drowned out by the rhythmic drumming echoing from the center of the square. “Look at all the people dancing, Levi! Isn’t this wonderful?”

Levi smirked faintly. “It’s loud,” he muttered, but his tone lacked its usual sharpness. He didn’t mind the noise as much when it meant seeing her so delighted.

They approached a corner where a group of drummers sat in a semi-circle, their hands pounding against taut drum skins in a synchronized rhythm that made the ground vibrate. Men, women, and children danced barefoot in the center of the square, their movements fluid and joyous, as if they were one with the music. Solina clapped her hands along with the beat, her body swaying slightly.

“Come on, Levi!” she said, tugging on his arm. “Let’s join them!”

Levi raised an eyebrow. “Dancing isn’t exactly my thing.”

Solina laughed. “You danced with me at our wedding, didn’t you?”

“That was different,” he replied, his lips twitching into a small smile. “That was for you.”

Her heart swelled at his words, but before she could tease him further, one of the drummers—a middle-aged man with a wide grin and a vibrant feathered headdress—caught sight of her enthusiasm. He gestured toward her, speaking in accented Valorian.

“Princess! You like the music?”

“I love it!” Solina replied, clapping her hands.

The man beamed and patted the drum beside him. “Then you try! Come, play!”

Solina’s eyes widened in surprise, and she turned to Levi, a mixture of excitement and nervousness on her face. “Do you think I should?”

Levi shrugged, his usual calm demeanor in place, but his eyes held a flicker of warmth. “You’ll probably be better at it than all of them combined.”

That was all the encouragement she needed. Solina stepped forward, her smile bright as the drummer handed her a seat and positioned a smaller drum in front of her. The crowd cheered as the princess took her place, and Levi crossed his arms, standing at the edge of the circle with an amused expression.

The drummer showed Solina a simple rhythm, his hands moving over the drum in deliberate, practiced motions. She watched intently, nodding along to the beat before lifting her own hands to try. At first, her movements were hesitant, her hands light against the drum. But then, as she found the rhythm, her confidence grew, and the sound became stronger, more vibrant.

The crowd cheered louder, and the drummer laughed in delight. “You are natural, Princess!”

Solina’s cheeks flushed with pride as she continued, her fingers flying across the drumhead in perfect harmony with the others. She didn’t need much instruction—her natural talent for music took over, and soon she was creating her own rhythm, weaving it seamlessly into the melody of the group.

Levi couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was glowing, completely in her element, and the sound of the drums combined with her radiant smile made something stir deep within him. He wasn’t the type to be moved by public displays or loud crowds, but watching Solina, he felt an unfamiliar sense of pride. This was his wife—talented, kind, and full of life.

After a few minutes, Solina finished her piece with a dramatic flourish, and the crowd erupted into cheers and applause. She laughed, slightly out of breath, and turned to look at Levi. “How was that?” she asked, her voice teasing.

Levi’s lips curved into one of his rare, genuine smiles. “I think you’ve just upstaged the entire band.”

The drummer clapped Solina on the shoulder, his grin wide. “Princess, you have a gift. Anytime you want to play, you come here.”

“Thank you,” Solina said sincerely, her cheeks still pink from the excitement.

As she returned to Levi’s side, she slipped her arm through his, her face glowing with happiness. “Did you really think I did well?” she asked softly as they walked toward the open dining area.

“You were incredible,” Levi replied, his voice low but honest. “You always are.”

Solina blushed, her heart swelling at his words. They found a quiet table overlooking the square, where they enjoyed a dinner of local delicacies, the sounds of laughter and music filling the air. Though Levi remained his usual stoic self, Solina could tell he was enjoying the moment in his own way. For her, this evening was a memory she would treasure forever.

…

As their night continued, it was finally time for dinner and the night air was warm and alive with the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and rhythmic drums echoing in the distance as Solina and Levi sat at their small wooden table, surrounded by the locals enjoying the vibrant evening. Their table was laden with colorful dishes, each one more aromatic and enticing than the last.

Solina leaned forward, her emerald eyes gleaming with curiosity as she picked up a piece of flatbread. “Levi, this all looks amazing! I don’t even know where to start.”

Levi, ever the skeptic, eyed the spread warily. His gaze lingered on a particularly fiery-looking red curry that seemed to radiate heat just from its scent. “I don’t trust food that looks like it could set my mouth on fire.”

Solina laughed, a melodic sound that drew a few smiles from nearby tables. “You have to try it! We can’t come all this way and not taste the local cuisine.”

Levi sighed, resigned. “Fine, but if I regret this, you’re to blame.”

She giggled and reached for a small piece of roasted meat glazed with a sticky, deep red sauce. “Here, start with this. It’s not even that spicy.”

Levi raised an eyebrow but took the offered morsel, his fingers brushing against hers for a brief moment. Popping it into his mouth, he chewed cautiously. At first, the flavors were rich and smoky, but then, like a fiery ambush, the heat hit him full force. His eyes widened, and a faint red flush crept up his neck.

“Not spicy?” he managed, his voice a touch strained. “Solina, are you trying to kill me?”

Solina gasped, her hands flying to her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Oh no! Is it that bad?” she asked, though the glint in her eyes betrayed her amusement.

Levi grabbed his glass of water and drank it quickly, but it did little to quell the burn. “Bad? My tongue feels like it’s been set on fire. This is worse than any titan fight.”

By now, Solina was laughing so hard that tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry, Levi! I thought you’d like it.”

He gave her a flat look, though the corners of his mouth twitched. “I think you knew exactly what you were doing.”

Still giggling, Solina reached for a bowl of yogurt sauce and held it out to him. “Here, try this. It’ll help with the spice.”

Levi hesitated but eventually dipped a piece of bread into the sauce and ate it. The cool, creamy texture did help ease the burn, though his face remained red, both from the heat and Solina’s teasing.

Feeling emboldened, Solina tried a piece of the spicy meat herself. She gasped as the heat hit her, waving her hand in front of her mouth. “Oh my goodness, you weren’t exaggerating! That is spicy!”

Levi smirked. “See? Now you know how I feel.”

The two of them worked their way through the rest of the dishes, each more adventurous than the last. Solina, ever the enthusiast, insisted on trying everything at least once, even if it made her eyes water or her cheeks flush. Levi, though skeptical, followed her lead, determined not to be outdone.

At one point, a local chef approached their table, noticing Levi’s flushed face and the beads of sweat forming on his brow. “Too spicy for you, Captain?” the chef teased good-naturedly.

Levi looked up, his stoic expression unchanging. “Not at all,” he replied dryly. “I’ve faced worse.”

The chef laughed heartily and clapped Levi on the shoulder before offering them a plate of sweet, cooling fruit to cleanse their palates. Solina immediately reached for a slice of mango, sighing in relief as the sweetness soothed her tongue.

“This is amazing,” she said, turning to Levi with a bright smile. “Even if it’s spicy, I love how bold the flavors are.”

Levi nodded, his eyes softening as he watched her excitement. “It’s... different,” he admitted. “But I can see why you like it.”

As they finished their meal, the lively atmosphere around them seemed to heighten. A group of dancers took to the square, their movements graceful and rhythmic, their colorful skirts swirling in time with the drums. Solina watched them in awe, her hands clasped together.

“Levi, isn’t this beautiful?” she asked, her voice filled with wonder.

He followed her gaze, his eyes lingering on her rather than the dancers. “Yeah,” he said softly, though his answer wasn’t about the performance.

Solina turned to him, catching the way he was looking at her, and her cheeks flushed—not from the spice this time. She reached across the table, her fingers brushing against his hand. “Thank you for trying everything with me tonight,” she said earnestly. “I know it wasn’t easy.”

Levi shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You make it easy.”

The two of them sat there for a while longer, enjoying the sights and sounds of the town. Despite the lingering heat of the food, Levi couldn’t deny that this evening—watching Solina’s joy, hearing her laughter—had been one of the best he’d had in a long time.

Suddenly, the lively beat of drums filled the night air again as the square buzzed with life, the dancers spinning and twirling to the rhythm. Solina’s eyes sparkled as she watched the scene, her excitement bubbling over. Unable to contain herself, she turned to Levi, a playful grin spreading across her face.

“Come on, Levi!” she said, grabbing his hand. “Let’s dance!”

Levi’s brows furrowed instantly, and he barely managed to set his cup down before being tugged out of his chair. “What? Solina, I told you I don’t—”

“You can’t say no,” she interrupted, pulling him toward the center of the square. “It’s our honeymoon! We have to enjoy it.”

Levi glanced around nervously at the crowd, which was now cheering them on, many clapping in time to the music. “Solina, I don’t dance,” he muttered, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

Solina turned to face him, still holding his hands, her cheeks slightly flushed from a mix of the spicy food and the exhilaration of the moment. “You don’t have to be perfect,” she said, her tone encouraging. “Just follow me.”

Levi sighed, his lips twitching as though he might protest further, but Solina’s enthusiasm was infectious. With her hands firmly gripping his, she began to sway and step to the beat, her movements light and carefree. Levi, on the other hand, stood rooted to the spot, his body stiff as a board.

“Levi,” she said, laughing softly. “You have to move, or it doesn’t count as dancing.”

“I am moving,” he deadpanned, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in the most minimal way possible.

Solina burst into laughter, the sound musical against the drumming. “No, no! Like this.” She spun in a small circle, her skirt twirling around her, then stepped closer to him. “Just follow the rhythm, okay?”

“I’m a soldier, not a dancer,” Levi muttered, though he allowed her to guide his hands.

Solina began jumping lightly to the beat, her hands still holding his, and Levi found himself being jostled into the rhythm despite his resistance. He felt incredibly awkward, standing stiffly as his wife danced around him, her movements full of joy. But then he caught her gaze, her eyes sparkling with laughter, and something in him softened.

“Alright,” he muttered under his breath, shifting his feet a little more intentionally. “But don’t expect miracles.”

“That’s the spirit!” Solina beamed, encouraging him with a bright smile. She gave his hands a gentle tug, pulling him slightly forward, and he took a hesitant step.

The crowd around them began clapping louder, and some even started cheering, clearly amused by Levi’s reluctant participation. Solina spun again, laughing as she twirled back to face him. “See? You’re doing great!”

“I look ridiculous,” Levi muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched into a reluctant smile.

Solina tilted her head, her expression softening. “Not to me,” she said quietly, her voice barely audible over the music.

Levi blinked, her words catching him off guard. For a moment, the noise of the crowd and the beat of the drums faded into the background. All he could see was Solina, her face glowing in the warm light of the lanterns, her joy so genuine it made his chest ache.

“You’re really something, you know that?” he said, his voice low.

Solina blushed, her grip on his hands tightening slightly. “You bring it out of me,” she replied, her smile turning shy.

The music shifted to a faster tempo, and the crowd began dancing more enthusiastically. Solina let go of Levi’s hands to clap along, her hips swaying naturally to the beat. Levi, feeling a bit less self-conscious now, took a small step closer, his movements more fluid than before.

“Levi!” Solina exclaimed, noticing his progress. “You’re dancing!”

“Barely,” he replied, his tone dry, though the faintest hint of a smile lingered on his lips.

The two of them continued to move together, Levi’s steps becoming more confident as the minutes passed. Solina couldn’t help but giggle as he made a concerted effort to keep up with her, his usual stoicism softened by the moment.

When the music finally slowed, signaling the end of the song, the crowd erupted into applause. Solina clapped along, her face glowing with happiness. She turned to Levi, reaching for his hand.

“Thank you for dancing with me,” she said sincerely.

Levi squeezed her hand lightly, his gray eyes warm as they met hers. “You’re welcome. But don’t expect me to make a habit of it.”

Solina laughed, her heart full as they began walking back to their table.

…

After dinner and dancing, the humid jungle air clung to Solina and Levi as they walked back toward the treehouse with their attendant, their lantern casting dancing shadows on the path. Solina was chatting softly about the night’s festivities, her voice light with happiness, while Levi, ever alert, kept his eyes scanning their surroundings. It had been a long, adventurous day, and the thought of finally resting in the treehouse felt like a reward.

That was until they saw it.

Levi stopped abruptly, his body tensing as his sharp eyes caught movement near the treehouse ladder. Solina, confused, took another step forward, only to freeze when Levi held out an arm to block her. Her eyes followed his gaze, and her blood ran cold.

There it was—a massive cobra, its sleek black body coiled tightly around the base of the ladder. Its hood flared wide, and its yellow-green eyes gleamed ominously in the dim light. The snake hissed, the sound sharp and menacing, and Solina instinctively stepped back.

She opened her mouth to scream, but Levi’s hand shot up, covering her mouth gently yet firmly. “Quiet,” he whispered, his tone low and commanding. “Don’t startle it.”

Solina’s heart was pounding so hard she thought it might leap out of her chest. Levi removed his hand from her mouth, his sharp gaze never leaving the snake. He turned to the attendant, his voice calm but firm. “Take her somewhere safe.”

The attendant’s eyes widened, and he shook his head quickly. “C-Captain, it’s a cobra, yes, but it’s not aggressive unless provoked. Please don’t harm it. It’s sacred in this region—”

Levi shot him a look so incredulous it could have cut through steel. “Sacred or not, it’s blocking the way to our treehouse, and it’s massive. That thing’s fangs could kill someone in seconds.”

The cobra hissed again, swaying slightly as if it were sizing up the group. Solina whimpered softly, her fear evident as she clung to Levi’s arm. Levi glanced down at her, his resolve hardening. He couldn’t let anything happen to her.

The attendant squeaked when the snake bared its sharp teeth, venom glistening on its fangs. He quickly ducked behind Levi, his courage evaporating. “P-perhaps we should call for someone experienced—”

“No time,” Levi muttered, unsheathing the machete strapped to his back. The blade gleamed in the moonlight, and his grip was steady. He didn’t care if it was a cobra or a titan; if it was a threat, it was going down.

Solina’s eyes widened as she watched him prepare to confront the snake. “Levi, please be careful!” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Levi gave her a brief glance, his eyes filled with determination. “I’ll handle it. Stay back.”

The cobra, sensing danger, coiled tighter and raised its head higher, its hood fully flared. The sound of its hissing filled the air, and the tension was palpable. Levi took a step forward, the machete steady in his hand. He moved like a predator, his body low and his stance poised for attack.

The attendant whimpered from behind him. “Please, Captain! I beg you, don’t harm it. Just—just scare it away!”

Levi didn’t respond. His focus was entirely on the snake, his mind calculating every possible move. The cobra struck first, lunging with lightning speed. Levi sidestepped effortlessly, his blade flashing in the light as he slashed toward the snake. The machete didn’t connect—Levi wasn’t aiming to kill yet, only to warn.

The cobra hissed louder, its body shifting as it recoiled. Solina gasped, her hands clutching her chest as she watched Levi in action. He moved with such precision, such confidence, that even in the midst of her fear, she felt a strange sense of awe.

The snake swayed, its movements erratic as Levi held his ground. He raised the machete slightly, the blade glinting, and then he slammed it into the ground in front of the cobra with enough force to send a shockwave through the dirt.

The cobra flinched, its hood retracting slightly as it reevaluated the threat before it. Levi took a calculated step closer, his eyes locked on the serpent. “Go,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Or the next swing won’t miss.”

For a moment, it was as if time stood still. The cobra stared at Levi, its body tense and coiled. Then, slowly, it began to slither backward, uncoiling itself from the ladder. The snake hissed one last time before retreating into the underbrush, disappearing into the shadows.

Levi exhaled, lowering the machete. “Good riddance,” he muttered, turning to check on Solina.

Solina, still trembling, stepped forward and threw her arms around him. “You were amazing,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “Thank you.”

Levi hesitated for a moment before wrapping an arm around her, his other hand still gripping the machete. “It’s fine now,” he said softly. “Let’s get you inside.”

The attendant peeked out from behind Levi, his face pale. “C-Captain, that was... incredible. I’ve never seen anyone face a cobra like that.”

Levi shot him a look. “Next time, let’s avoid sacred snakes blocking the way.”

The attendant nodded vigorously, leading them up the ladder to the treehouse. Solina stayed close to Levi, her trust in him solidified even further after witnessing his bravery.

As they entered the treehouse, Solina turned to Levi with a small, grateful smile. “I think you just saved my life.”

Levi shrugged, setting the machete aside. “It’s what I’m here for.”

But the slight curve of his lips betrayed the pride he felt.

As they made their way up the treehouse, Solina flitted about, her excitement and admiration for Levi palpable. She turned to him, her green eyes sparkling, and clasped her hands together as though she were holding back a cheer. “Levi, that was incredible! You just... faced that snake like it was nothing!”

Levi, who had just set the machete against the wall, glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. “It’s just a snake, Solina. I’ve fought titans—things a hundred times bigger and uglier than that.”

Solina’s lips twitched, but she was undeterred. “Yes, I know! But this was different! It wasn’t like... like one of those planned missions you’ve done. You didn’t even hesitate. You just acted, and that snake was terrifying!”

Levi leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. His gray eyes softened as he took in her flushed cheeks and animated gestures. “Titans are a bigger threat. That thing was a nuisance at best,” he said, though his tone lacked the sharpness it usually carried. Instead, it was tinged with quiet amusement.

“But it was venomous!” Solina exclaimed, taking a step closer to him. “And so huge! You didn’t even flinch.”

Levi gave a small shrug, as if to downplay the feat. “I flinch at nothing. You know that.”

Solina stopped in front of him and tilted her head, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Well, I think it was very brave,” she said softly, her voice laced with genuine admiration. “I mean, even the attendant—who is supposed to be used to these creatures—hid behind you.”

Levi smirked at the memory of the quivering man. “Yeah, that guy was useless.”

Solina giggled, the sound light and musical. “You were incredible, though. Honestly, I was so scared, Levi. I thought I might faint.”

Levi’s smirk faltered slightly, replaced by a flicker of concern. He straightened, uncrossing his arms. “You’re okay now, though?”

Solina nodded eagerly. “Because of you,” she said without hesitation. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there.”

Levi reached out and brushed a stray strand of red hair from her face, his touch gentle. “You don’t need to worry about things like that, Solina. Not when I’m around.”

Her cheeks flushed a deep red, and she averted her gaze for a moment. But then her lips quirked into a grin. “Still, I think I’m allowed to gush a little. My husband just saved me from a deadly snake.”

Levi’s ears turned pink at the word “husband,” though he quickly masked it by clearing his throat. “If you insist on calling me brave for dealing with something I could step on, go ahead.”

Solina laughed, a sweet sound that filled the treehouse and eased the lingering tension from earlier. “I do insist!” she said, placing her hands on her hips in mock defiance. “I think it’s well-deserved.”

Levi shook his head slightly, but there was a small, almost imperceptible smile on his face. “You’re impossible,” he muttered.

“And you’re amazing,” Solina countered, stepping closer again. She looked up at him, her green eyes warm and earnest. “Really, Levi. I mean it.”

He met her gaze, and for a moment, the room felt still. There was a softness in her expression that tugged at something deep within him—a feeling of being seen, of being appreciated in a way he hadn’t been before. “Thanks,” he said quietly, the word simple but sincere.

Solina’s smile widened, and she reached out to take his hand. “So,” she said, her voice lighter now, “are there any other heroic acts you’re planning for tonight, or do you think the snake was enough excitement for one evening?”

Levi chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I think I’ve done my part.”

“Well, then,” Solina said, her tone teasing, “you’ve earned a nice, peaceful rest.”

Levi glanced toward the bed and then back at her. “I’ll rest once I’m sure no other ‘sacred’ creatures are lurking nearby.”

Solina laughed again, and the sound made Levi’s chest feel inexplicably warm. “Fair enough,” she said. “But, Levi... thank you. For everything.”

He squeezed her hand gently. “Always.”

As they settled into the night, the earlier tension and fear faded, replaced by a quiet comfort that spoke volumes. Even in the midst of a foreign land, with all its challenges and unknowns, they had each other—and that, for now, was more than enough.

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monstroum · 11 months ago

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the hands that rest against daniel's chest casually adjust his shirt's collar , as if that will help make the position they've put themselves in more dignified . NONE OF THIS WAS ABOUT THE INTERVIEW . it felt like a small transgression , to have gotten this close to the boy which had caused armand so much anguish ㅤ─ ㅤ who still did . louis can feel daniel's heart beating in his chest and it causes the corners of his lips to curl . it beats BECAUSE OF HIM ... DESPITE OF HIM . he chuckles at the journalist's teasing ( gonna need to do it a few more times ㅤ─ ㅤoh daniel ) and even lowers his gaze , appearing coy for a moment . it's easy to laugh and mean it when daniel's around . " this dies here , daniel . " his palm softly pats against where the other's heart ought to be . " we finish up the interview . we put you on a plane home . you publish it , exploit it , profit , whatever ㅤ─ ㅤand that's that . " the vampire shrugged . as if it was as easy as it was inevitable .

louis did not recall the last time he had wanted something that he could not hang on a wall or being wanted by anyone other than armand . all of the men who'd volunteer their necks for biting were selected and examined . it had become a task as mundane as picking a shirt to wear . and to have daniel there , talking back and pushing his limits as he had in san francisco ㅤ─ ㅤ it almost felt like being part of the world again . a finger guided louis to look up . he arched an eyebrow at the other with a scoff . " oh , you think you tasted good before ? " he can't remember . but he can imagine ㅤ─ ㅤ the taste of cocaine laced with the mint of the grasshoppers daniel had downed one after the other at the bar . FRESH AND BITTER AND FRIGHTENED ... so frightened .

but not anymore . his guest had gotten distracted again , daydreaming about their violent first meeting and how he might enjoy it if it happened now . louis looked at him intently . allowed daniel's gaze to focus on his mouth again ( even moved a hand to hold the back of the others' neck , as if that would help him read his thoughts better ) . and louis feels daniel welcoming the bite . the dizziness of blood loss , even if just an imagining , caused his pale gaze to grow darker as both pupils dilated twice their size . THIS WASN'T WHAT DANIEL WAS THERE FOR . and yet .

louis' playful demeanour had been replaced with something else . daniel falters in his speech and his host does not seem to care one bit . " shut your damn eyes then . " he pulls daniel molloy to press his lips against his own but , this time , the kiss resembles more to a car crash than anything tender . the hand which had previously fixed molloy's collar now held his jaw in a firm grip , instructing daniel to turn his head to the side so that his lips could kiss down the now exposed throat . " don't look at me . " louis murmured against daniel's skin when finding the scar tissue . dull teeth grew dangerously sharp , " don't look . " and bit down .

"You want a review?" Daniel laughs, a soft little exhaled thing that surprises even him in its fondness. His eyes graze over Louis' features and his smile fades as his expression becomes a bit sharper, but no less teasing. "Gonna need to do it a few more times to get a good sense of your expertise if you want a review. That might've been a fluke, beginner's luck."

He snorts, chasing the taste of Louis from his lips. No hint of blood, just something very real and surprisingly human; it was just like kissing anyone else, except with the heady knowledge that Louis' fangs could pop and gore him at any second.

Daniel catches Louis' glance down at his throat and he nudges his chin gently with a finger, directing his gaze back up. "Hey, cut that out. The drugs in my blood these days aren't the fun ones, Louis, you won't like how I taste." His neck twinges with the memory of his pain, but it's entwined now with the lingering pleasure of kissing Louis, and it's become something new, no longer unpleasant. He imagines that it might feel good to let Louis drink from him now; he'd displayed such self-control at dinner, taking just enough from Damek and 'Rashid', that Daniel can imagine it without fear of death. Would Louis be gentle with him, and how deep would he bite? The blood loss would be a pleasant dizziness, and he lets himself imagine that both Louis and Armand would fuss over him in the aftermath, fetching him a blanket and a Coke, and they'd insist that they pause the interview until tomorrow.

Louis is saying something. "Huh?" Daniel drags his gaze up from Louis' lips. "Yeah..." What? "Journalistic clarity. Yeah." Slowly, Daniel nods and licks his lips. "You know, when you're looking at me like that, it's kind of hard - kind of hard to think about anything."

#* ch. writings : louis du pointe du lac #* ohsunshine .#* ohsunshine / daniel molloy : 02 .#uuuuuuuuhhhhh #happy.....sunday?

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allegra-writes · 2 years ago

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"And They Were Roommates" Part III

Armand x Daniel Molloy; Louis x Lestat

General Audiences

Warnings: General horniness, Daniel discovering the blue and pink light of bisexuality, graphic karaoke action, Lestat not beating the allegations of nepo baby-ism, Lestat probably singing about himself, cheesy 80s songs.

Another chapter by the incredible @faerywhimsy so please don't doubt about showing her some well deserved love.

Chapter 3: Karaoke Night

This wasn't the first time Daniel had hung out with Louis and Lestat. Hell, they'd been over at his place just the other night. He knew—and liked—Armand's friends plenty. Lestat was an utter riot. He was so over the top that it had made Alice's ultimatum look mild in comparison. Okay, no, that was still too soon. Louis, though, was quieter as well as the warmer of the two. Armand had made it pretty clear Louis had flirted with him once, when they'd first met, though Daniel hadn't registered it at the time.

"Do I need to be worried, now, that you and Louis are still such good friends?" Daniel had only thought to ask of Armand after the long, loooong make out session and more that had happened after Alice left him.

Thought hadn't been super high on Daniel's priority list before that. Learning the way Armand felt underneath his hands when it wasn't just a casual embrace, or leaning each other for movie night, that had been the most important thing. Licking his way clear along Armand's clavicle, which had been somehow driving Daniel's subconscious wild for at least a month, that had been a more important thing.

From the moment Armand had stalked across their living room and grabbed him by the collar of his polo, a lot of things from the past couple of weeks had suddenly become abundantly, inescapably clear.

For all that, Daniel didn't wanna be stepping on any other guy's toes, just because he didn't really get being bisexual yet. It... hadn't really felt good to him when Alice's voice had reached that pitch and she'd demanded of him something he hadn't been able to give. Armand was still his best friend. The absolute last thing Daniel wanted was to put Armand into any kind of situation like the one he'd just been in. The one Armand had basically stepped up and protected him from.

Armand, in response, had just given him and his question a cool, distant look.

Which prompted Daniel to say more words. "Look, I don't... I just don't wanna make you have to choose between us. Him or me, kinda like..."

Armand had only stepped forward then to press a finger against Daniel's lips. A finger he'd then replaced with his mouth.

Only when Armand was good and done with kissing him did Armand pull away. Daniel was in a daze. How long, he wondered, was it gonna be until his best friend-turned-best kisser in the actual world stopped pulling the carpet straight out from under him every time they touched?

What were movie nights on the couch even gonna feel like now?

"You don't need to worry about Louis," Armand had said, bringing Daniel's thoughts back to the present.

"Good." Daniel gave a little chuckle, even as he'd rubbed a hand over the back of his neck self consciously. "Cause I think Lestat is probably the jealous type."

There was a look on Armand's face then that Daniel didn't even begin to know how to read, let alone ask about.

Karaoke night. Daniel arrived with Armand, getting there later than Louis and Lestat who were already in the usual booth. It was a private booth with a pole near the edge of the stage, one of those spinny ones Daniel didn't have the least inclination or awareness on how to use. He was there to sing, not make an utter tit of himself by trying and failing to defy gravity.

He had seen Lestat eying it up a few times. That had been what might have inspired him to start a bit of a running bet with Louis as to how many weeks it would take before Lestat could be seen swinging around that pole. If it was tonight, it would sure take the sudden hyperfocus off Daniel and Armand's new relationship status.

Boyfriends. More than roommates. Daniel had never had a boyfriend before. Just the other day, he still thought he was straight.

Tonight, Armand had a proprietary arm draped over Daniel's shoulders in a flagrant sign of ownership. He'd been a little bit this way the night Louis and Lestat had come around to their place, but Daniel had mistakenly thought that demonstration had probably been just because it was still only so new. This was the first time they'd gone out together like this, and Daniel wasn't quite sure he would have been so comfortable with Armand's continuing outward display of physical affection if they'd been coming out tonight to see anyone other than Louis and Lestat.

"Hey guys." Daniel gave a wave because his hand was free, even if the movement of it was just a little curbed by the heaviness of Armand's arm. He was gonna play this cool. Totally cool.

Lestat was already looking over song choices, but Louis looked up to greet them from the booth and a ready jug of beer surrounded by four glasses. His smile was warm as he met first Armand's eyes, then Daniel's. Again, Daniel kinda wondered whether he had anything to worry about there. But Armand's arm never moved from across his shoulders, and Daniel trusted him. He really did.

"Hey Daniel. Armand." Louis. He patted the seating of the booth beside him, towards the back in the U-shape of the chair. Armand didn't move for a moment but, when he did, he led the way so that he would be sitting closest to Louis, which would leave Daniel closest to the edge, opposite Lestat.

"Ooh, I have the first one!" Lestat announced by way of greeting. There was a neon light in the room that lit up Lestat's locks like it was no one's business. With Daniel's dark hair and both Armand and Louis' skin, Lestat was far and away the brightest thing in the room, and that was before he grinned pointedly. "Do we want to know why you two are late?"

The waggling of his eyebrows that joined this query definitely suggested the follow up question, Sex before Karaoke, or after?

"You're early," Armand rejoined easily, not feeding into Lestat's tone at all.

Which, Daniel thought, looking over at Louis, was probably good. Louis had rolled his eyes and looked away from both his current- and his ex-boyfriends as though there was something very interesting about the damask wallpaper print on the back wall.

Lestat huffed out a breath, then made a show of looking down at a wrist watch that was likely more than the last three of Daniel's paychecks combined. Damn, Lestat was the lead singer in a band that was aspiring. The Vampire Lestat had hardly made headlines anywhere yet, so where did all his damn money come from? Vampires were so over anyway. Who did Lestat think he was? Anne Rice, or something?

"Perhaps," Lestat allowed eventually, in what was one of the least gracious acknowledgements of someone else being right Daniel thought he'd ever seen.

But he didn't say anything about that, because he was here to make a good impression tonight. As Armand's boyfriend.

"What's the song you picked?" Daniel asked gamely, because it was certainly a safer topic than anything else Lestat had started.

Louis shot him a look across the booth that was definitely grateful. Armand reached over and took Daniel's hand. And Lestat smiled widely at him. Daniel figured he'd made a pretty fair start to tonight.

"Well," Lestat said, and the opening chords to Nick Cave’s Red Right Hand began to play around them as Lestat all but skipped to the stage. He held the microphone stand with an experienced flourish, sending it forward towards the booth before pulling it back by the electrical cord.

It wasn’t the first time Daniel had seen Lestat in his element this way. What wasn’t really fair was the way he always claimed the first song. Daniel… didn't have the confidence Lestat did. Louis didn’t even sing most of the times they were here, so Lestat took twice the number of songs. Whose idea had it been to pick karaoke as the main regular catch up of this group? Daniel hardly had to guess. He just wondered what made Armand and Louis both agree to it.

None of that mattered right then, though. Because while Armand perused the song list, Daniel grew incredibly distracted by the way Armand had stared stroking little patterns across his palm.

He shuddered, only half paying attention to Lestat’s first performance, if even that much.

Lestat’s French accent was as subsumed as was more or less normal when he sang, but he gave he song particular inflections that were all his own. Nick Cave’s lyrics rolled from Lestat’s tongue as though they'd been written for him. He strutted back and forth during the instrumental sections. Lestat was a good looking man. Daniel was pretty sure he was allowed to think that kinda thing now. It all would have probably been very interesting, if not for Armand.

Yet, every time Daniel looked next to him to meet Armand's gaze, his boyfriend's brown eyes were still tilted down towards the song list. He didn't, not even once, look up to meet Daniel's eyes. And yet the tips of those clever fingers told Daniel that Armand's attention was never far from him.

The feeling was entirely mutual. It was definitely... very warm in here. Had they forgotten to put on the air conditioners tonight? Maybe Daniel needed to go see someone about this.

And yet, he could all too easily imagine Armand's fingers spreading to take his whole wrist within them if Daniel tried to move. So he stayed very, very still.

Daniel hazarded a glance towards Louis to see if he was aware of the growing hardness secretly happening in his pants, and with so little reason! But Louis only seemed to have eyes for Lestat as he rounded towards the end of Red Right Hand. Thank god for small mercies!

The next song was already beginning to play as Lestat came down from the stage. Daniel was still distracted but Armand, it seemed, had ended up picking something.

The country twang of the opening notes got Daniel's attention immediately. Hang on, what?

None of the four of them were on the stage. Lestat's eyebrows rose. "Who is singing this?" he demanded. It did not sound like a compliment.

Daniel glanced towards Armand. Unexpectedly, this time Armand actually was staring straight back at him. Daniel coughed out a laugh.

"Oh, you're on!" he crowed.

Daniel had recognised it immediately from those opening chords. Of course he had. This was the song that had been Armand’s ring tone on his phone for weeks.

Snorting, Daniel pushed himself up. If the song was playing anyway, Daniel had a point he wanted to make.

He was in this with Armand. Stupidly. Hornily. Completely.

The cheeky grin felt like it covered his whole face as he cupped the microphone in one hand. Armand hadn’t even tried to get out from the booth after him. That worked for Daniel. He'd sing this thing just for him.

Daniel picked it up seamlessly halfway through the first chorus, which were of course a repeat of the first half.

"I want you to want me. I need you to need me..."

He was thankful only that he'd chosen sturdy denim jeans for the night that would hide a host of sins under the lights he suddenly stood under. Between the song choice and the casual under table touching, Daniel felt horridly dishevelled. If he'd ever felt this way with Alice, he didn't remember it.

For half of the lyrics, Daniel wasn’t even in tune. But what he lacked in musical talent, he made up for with swagger. Just dancing back and forth. Shoulders moving up and down in time with the words, even more so every time the chorus came back.

“Didn’t I, didn’t I, didn’t I see you crying? Feelin' all alone without a friend, you know you feel like dying...”

By the time he came back to sit next to Armand, his dark hair was damp over his brow and he was convinced he’d just done his best performance ever on that stage.

His phone buzzed in his pocket before he sat down, and Daniel looked at it real quick.

A message from Armand. Who was sitting right in front of him now. I need you to need me 😘

Daniel leaned over. He was flushed and the whole world seemed amazing. “I do,” he whispered into Armand’s ear even as he fell back into the booth. Well, spoke the words normally rather than speaking over the music anyway.

Because Lestat was already back up on stage. And Daniel realised, oh, he loved this song! it was one of Lestat's own. How the fuck had Lestat managed to bribe the owners here to add it to the list? Did he really come here often enough for that? It was such a vanity project moment, and yet Lestat's cheeks and jawline were as pronounced as Daniel had ever seen them as he hummed out those opening notes. He was so involved in performing his own song here and like this that it didn't even seem to matter what the rest of them might be thinking.

For his part, Daniel knew Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene well enough from all the hours he'd spent listening to it on Myspace after he'd first heard it via Armand. Lestat didn't know this, but Daniel loved this song. He must have started mouthing along with the lyrics because, at some point, he noticed Lestat was pointing back at him. Daniel started, then pointed to his own self doubtfully. Lestat nodded, turning his hand around and crooking a finger back towards himself. The expression on his face while he sung seemed suggestive as hell.

No. Lestat couldn’t he serious. Daniel wasn’t just gonna go up there and join Lestat on singing his own damn song!

Except, karaoke was about fun. And Lestat looked like he was having a lot of fun up there. More than that, he wanted Daniel to join him.

There was still a light sheen of sweat against Daniel’s brow from the last song. Armand wasn't even touching him again yet, so this was a good time to go if he was gonna. His hard on had definitely calmed down during his time on stage. He found himself slowly sliding towards the end of the booth, only looking back at Armand only once. Armand nodded his head encouragingly.

Ah fuck it. He knew these lyrics back to front and wouldn’t even need to look at the prompter. Maybe Daniel could learn something about Lestat’s showmanship while he was up there.

Daniel downed the last of his beer before wholly committing to stepping out of the booth. Lestat had finished off the second chorus as Daniel leaned into the mic. He was surprised to find, as he begin the second verse, that Lestat didn’t sing it with him. Raising his eyebrows up to Lestat, he saw only that Lestat had taken half a step back and minimising his performance just to clicking both hands every other beat.

Oh, that wouldn’t do.

From somewhere in TV as a child, Daniel pulled out the finger waggle. Combined it with some steps he’d picked up from too many watches of Grease over the years. If they were doing this, they were doing it.

Lestat’s blond eyebrows lifted high, but he easily joined Daniel in the dance moves. The chorus was upon them before Daniel knew it and he and Lestat belted it out alongside each other.

“-straw blond hair, his arms hard and lean, he's the angel of small death and the codeine scene-”

It was hard to stand this close to Lestat without seeing the physical resemblance of him to the lyrics they sung.

At some point, Daniel looked out to Armand and Louis and saw Armand had pulled out the the small handheld camcorder he brought with him everywhere for ‘just in case’ moments.

By the last chorus, Lestat decided Daniel’s “moves” wouldn’t suffice any longer. Instead, dredged out some pop moves from the 80s and 90s and Daniel could help but laugh as he recognised them and followed through with him.

If he’s been sweaty after the last song, it was nothing compared to how he felt now. Daniel had come up here to have fun, and had worked out to have the time of his life. He was laughing and whistling at Lestat as they both came down from the stage, Lestat simply clapping in his direction and laughing as though he couldn’t contain it any better than Daniel.

The only downside was that, in their absence, Louis and Armand had finished off the jug of beer between them. And Daniel had finished what he'd had left of his own glass before he'd stepped up on that stage.

“Guess it’s my shout,” Daniel said, grimacing.

But, of course, Armand wouldn’t have that. He pulled a note out of his shirt pocket and handed it to Daniel. Cause of course he did. He'd been doing this far longer than they'd been boyfriends. Daniel didn't even see a point in arguing the topic with his fancy law intern boyfriend before he caught it between two forefingers then lifted it in a salute.

#interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #fanfiction #fluff #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #armand #daniel molloy

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cardierreh15 · 3 years ago

Text

Believer

Hi y’all! Posting this but I will be editing over time. 🥰 i hope y’all enjoy this though. This one was a little bit more tough.

**I do not give anyone permission to repost or copy my work!!!

Warnings 18+: Cursing , Mentions of being Burned , Dying , (please tell me if I’ve missed any)

Description: Cardierre has a close encounter with Death.

Pairing: Henry Cavill (Superman/Kal-El/Clark Kent) x Cardierre James (Black!Plus Size Female OC) — Special Guest : Ben Affleck (Bruce Wayne)

Word Count:

The Planet’s Visitor

The sound of a cork being popped filled the air along with the squeal and laughter of women. Bubbly champagne overflowed the side of the expensive Armand de Brignac bottle. Steve then began to fill up everyone’s flute. Clark and Cardi stood close to one another as Perry was the last one to have his glass filled.

Small conversation and chatter circulated the room until the sound of Perry clinking quieted the room. ‘May I have your attention please ladies and gentlemen,’ the room grew quiet and all of the attention was on their boss. ‘First and foremost— I would like to Welcome Clark back. Even though… we don’t really know how this was possible but, we are glad to have you back.’

Everyone turned their gazes towards Clark, raising their glasses towards the ceiling gently, ‘Welcome back, Clark!’ They all chimed it, some voices on time and others late.

Perry then turned his attention towards Cardierre who had her hand resting on her hip. She seem tired from the days work and he’d be sure to mention how hard working she truly was in his speech. ‘As all of you may know… recently, Cardierre had broke a record of being the most read reporter in the United States for her article: Return of the Red Cape. If you have read it, you know how impressive it was. It sure did have me at the edge of my seat. Cardierre, this is to you. Congratulations on this epic record! I— along with the rest of the Daily Planet— are very proud to have you with us.’

Cardi wasn’t that great with things like this. But it sure did feel nice to get that recognition from her boss. ‘Thank you all. I’m grateful to have such a supportive team to help me craft such an important article. This story meant everything to me… especially since I felt like I was about to die.’ She chuckled nervously, scratching the back of her head. The room filled with low laughter.

The tall male glanced down at her through his glasses. He wouldn’t dare harm her.

‘Anyway, I would like to thank you Perry for giving me the opportunity to allow me to put my experience and feelings on paper for the world to see,’ she lifted her flute with a smile, ‘To You Perry. To the Planet. Figurative and literally!’ The room burst with laughter before everyone placed their glasses between their lips and sipped at their champagne.

She had walked back over to her desk to see a beautiful arrangement of roses sitting atop it. Shaped in a full heart, the pedals looked so soft to the touch.

Cardi smiled softly, picking up the small fancy card. ‘Wonder who this is from?’ The card read: Congratulations on your groundbreaking success. May more success welcome you within open arms. B.

She then instantly knew exactly who sent these her way.

‘Looks like you have an secret admirer!’ Clark said, walking over and carefully leaned against her desk. ‘They look pricy!’

‘Very.’

A familiar voice had finally filled the air, ‘Ah! There’s my girl! Cardi!’

She turned around to see a man approaching them. Broad shoulders, tall frame. His sleeves were rolled up his forearms. He wore a dress shirt and a simple dark gray vest over the shirt, with dark gray slacks and shiny dress shoes. His arms were open, as if he were waiting for a hug. He was unrecognizable from a human eye. But once she grew closer, a grin curled on his lips.

‘Bruce?’ She was hesitant at first, but once she was sure that it was him, ‘BRUCE!’ She rushed towards her friend, damn near leaping into his arms. Effortlessly, he wrapped his arms around her waist and spun her around as the both laughed with glee. Once he’d placed her on her feet, she braced herself, finding her footing so she wouldn’t fall over from her dizziness. ‘Whoa.’ He grabbed her arms, keeping her still for a moment. ‘You alright?!’ He chuckled. ‘I am! Gosh! It’s been ages my friend! How are you?’

Bruce gave her a smile, it was like he didn’t want to answer her question… or didn’t know where to even begin. But Clark didn’t only save innocent lives… he saved conversations too. Bruce looked up at Clark who was approaching the two of them.

‘Mr. Wayne.’ Clark adjusted his glasses and gave him a nod.

‘How many times have I told you? Call me Bruce, Clark.’

Cardi was confused… out of this world. Her eyebrows tugged into one. Looking from Bruce to Clark and from Clark to Bruce. ‘Wait, you two know one another?!’

A lot better than she could even imagine.

‘Uh—‘ Clark took in a deep breath, trying to figure out how to put it in the right words. ‘We’ve… had to work together before.’

‘Yes. Confidential of course but— yes.’

‘Oh.’ Cardierre said, her eyebrows risen from surprise. ‘Small world I suppose.’

It grew quiet between the three of them for a moment. But the air was tense. So thick, it could easily be cut with a butter knife.

The woman wasn’t dumb. Graduating at top 10 of her class at Duke University, it was very easy to pick up secretive behavior. There was something they weren’t telling her.

The moment was broken once Perry called out for Clark to come and join him and their colleagues on a conversation. ‘Excuse me. Nice to see you… Bruce.’ Holding out his large hand, Bruce did not hesitate to pull out his hand, give it a firm grip and a simple shake. ‘Good to see you too, Clark.’ Bruce gave him a nod before Clark turned away.

The large male and female watched him walk away until Cardierre spoke up. ‘What are you doing here? Finally moving out of Gotham?’ It was joke. She knew her friend would never move away from that God forsaken place. She really couldn’t say she blamed him either. His business was there… he was trying to repair it… or at least help. But she’d mentioned it before, that place was way past helping. Way past saving.

Bruce chuckled at her joke, folding his arms over his chest, ‘I’m here on business. You forget Wayne Enterprise is Global.’

‘Nope,’ she smirked, ‘Never forgot. But why are you… here?’

Bruce paused for a second, swallowing his spit. He was conjuring up a lie. And she knew her friend long enough to notice. ‘To bring you flowers…’

She stared up at him, her lips in a slight curve to distinguish that she was smiling, but telling him that she knew he was full of shit. ‘Mmmmhmm.’

‘What?’

Cardi rolled her eyes and huffed, ‘Nothing. Just you haven’t changed… and—‘ she took a step forward, poking him in his chest, ‘You’re still a terrible liar.’ Turning swiftly on her toes, she walked back to her desk and gathered her things. ‘How is Harvey?’

‘Mmm…’ Bruce had walked behind her, his hands deep in his pockets as he looked up at the ceiling to think. ‘Uh… well— if you must know. He got hurt pretty bad.’

She gasped, turning halfway to face him. Her face froze in horror with her lips parted slightly, and her eyes enlarged. ‘What happened?! Is he alright?!’

‘Oh. He’s fine. A little too fine I suppose. He’s become one of Gotham’s renowned villains.’

Letting out a exhausted sigh, she folded her arms across her chest. ‘Poor Harvey. He had so much ambition… I guess a little bit too much.’ She scuffed and turned around, continuing on her mission to pack her things, ‘And the Batman? What’s he been up to these days?’

Bruce smirked, ‘I dunno. I don’t stay out late to find out for myself.’

Raising a brow as she smirked, throwing her purse over her shoulder and then picking up her flowers, ‘Good… last thing I need to hear is that one of my close friends got his spine split in half by a vigilante that swore to protect the innocent.’ Bruce chuckled at remark and shook his head. She turned around and placed them in his arms. ‘Walk me to my car?’

‘Sure.’ He smiled.

The young woman waved her hand, ‘Goodnight everyone! I will see you all in the mornin’!’

Everyone lifted their heads from the huddle they were in and waved their hands as well. ‘Bye, Cardi!’ They all said in sync.

***

On the way to her car, the two did their best to catch up. Bruce was a lot more closed off than she remembered and Cardi’s life consisted of working nonstop. She didn’t even believe in vacations… her saying “I’ll rest when I’m dead.” And pretty soon, she’ll realize she was taking life for granted.

‘Thank you.’ She took the soft pink flowers out of Bruce’s arms and placed them in the backseat. She then shut the door and turned around to see her friend. He had grown up— so much… and well might she add. The two stared at one another for a moment longer before she spoke, ‘I hope you have been being safe in Gotham. It just seems like the world is becoming a bad place everyday. You’re my friend, Bruce. And I want the best for you. Why don’t you just move here? Instead.’

Bruce sighed and shook his head, ‘You know I can’t do that.’ He didn’t even have to explain… because she already knew why.

‘I know.’ She gave him a gentle smile, ‘I was just trying to see if you’d change your mind. Still pretty headstrong.’ The both of them laughed softly before it grew quiet again. ‘Be good, Bruce.’ She reached up and rubbed her knuckles on his stubbly jaw before leaning up and placing a kiss on his cheek. She then got in her car, started it up and left him in that very same spot.

***

On the way home, she was in stand still traffic. This made her want to move out of the city in the first place. But since she worked here, leaving this place was always damn near impossible.

Relieved, she made it to the light right before she had to get on the interstate. But something had captured her attention. Bright flames had glowed in an apartment building, and a few people began to gather around. Quickly pulling over to the side and getting out her car, she rushed towards the group of people. The fire began to grow wilder, with the sounds of screaming and frightened people filled the air.

She looked around, noticing there were a few people on the phone with 911. But her attention was captured by a screaming man who was being dragged out by other men. ‘MY DAUGHTER! MY DAUGHTER IS IN THERE!’ He was in distress. Coughing to death. He had no energy to fight but all his energy went towards the shouting for his child.

This stirred up a feeling inside Cardi that she had never felt. The feeling to protect, even if it meant risking her life. After all, if it was her child in a burning building, and Superman was no where to be found, she would hope someone stepped up to be a hero for her.

Rushing over to the 3 men who were in coughing fits, she asked— ‘sir! What floor is your daughter on?! Where can I find her?!’ She had to yell over the sound of burning and collapsing debris.

‘2nd… floor.’ He wheezed. ‘Please… my baby… she’s all… I have.’

Taking in a deep breath, she looked up at the building. The flames were moving faster than she could have imagined. She had to move quickly.

Quickly, Cardi tied up her hair and kicked off her heels. She snatched off her blazer and tossed it on the ground. Suddenly, she heard the blaring of sirens rushing around the corner. The police, fire fighters and paramedics. She had to move before she had no chance to go. The crowd called out behind her as she raced inside.

Hey! Hey! What are you doing?!

Oh my god!

She’s going to die in there!

Stepping inside, she immediately regretted her decision. As soon as that smoke hit her lungs, she coughed as if her lungs were clawing their way out of her throat. It burned to breathe, but she had to keep pushing.

The floor was warm, not hot enough to burn her feet but hot enough to have her move quickly.

The stairs hadn’t fallen through yet, but they looked like they were on the verge. So even with her cough, Cardi rushed up that flight of stairs to get to the second floor.

When she made it, she thought all was lost. The 3rd floor had already fallen through and the flames are as tall as the ceiling. Suddenly, she heard whimpering. ‘Papa!? Where are you papa?!’ Through the wall. A shroud of hope covered her. She looked at the door that was partially blocked by burning debris. She wouldn’t be able to make it through there. But the wall was already burning and coming apart. ‘WAIT A MINUTE HONEY! IM GOING TO GET YOU OUT OF THERE!’ She yelled before she broke out into another fit of coughs.

Looking around, Cardi tried to find anything durable enough to break down this wall. There was a metal pipe laying on the ground. ‘This should work.’ And as soon as she picked it up, the metal singed her palms. Letting out a pained hiss, ‘AH!’ She quickly dropped it and backed away. She looked down at her hands, pink and burned. ‘Dammit.’ She cursed herself. She had to think quickly, so she unbuttoned her shirt, and wrapped it around the metal for protection. She then painfully picked up that metal pipe and started beating a hole into the wall.

Boom! Crash! Is all she could hear. She stopped for a second, terrified of the ceiling had finally caved in on the child. ‘HELLO!? SWEET HEART ARE YOU THERE?!’ No answer. Cardi’s eyes filled with tears. ‘No, no-no-no. Uh uh.’ She started beating faster, pushing through as hard as she could as her coughing became unbearable by the second.

Finally, she squeezed herself into the hole she created. Cutting, scraping, and burning her flesh as she did so. ‘Urrrrrggghhh!’ She groaned out in pain. And once through, she saw the child sitting in the corner of her bedroom. It was untouched by the fire. She held a little plush kitty towards her chest. She was safe.

‘Oh baby girl…’ Cardi gushed as she coughed. Limping in pain and exhaustion, she made her way to the child. ‘I’m a friend of daddy’s OK? I’ve come to get you out of here alright? What is your name?’

The girl looked at her with swollen teary eyes. She seem to have been crying forever, and clearly — it was hard for her to breathe too. ‘Mya…’

‘Oh…’ Cardi sighed softly, ‘That’s…’ she sighed again, ‘Such a pretty … name.’ She looked around for a second, and noticed the window. She quickly stood up and rushed over towards it and pushed it open. ‘Mya…’ she breathe heavily before coughing. ‘We have to get out of here…come.’ Opening her arms, the child didn’t hesitate to crawl into the unfamiliar woman’s arms.

Finding a piece of cloth, she used it to twist the door knob painfully. And when she did, the hall way was blocked off in blazing debris. This must’ve been what she heard outside her door. She coughed some more as the little girl whined, worriedly. ‘Shhh, it’s OK.’ Cardi whispered before quickly closing the door.

‘Shit.’ She cursed and walked over to the window to try and her fresh air. But to no avail. The air wasn’t circulating fast enough and the longer they stayed, the harder it became to breathe.

‘We’re going to die aren’t we?’ The child asked.

Cardi looked at her with narrowed eyes, ‘No… no… we don’t do that… we are— strong… we can… we can do this.’ She fought as she felt herself losing her own consciousness. Her chest burned as she did her best to push down her coughing, but it just felt soothing to do so.

Crash! The apartment shook beneath their feet. The woman and the child looked at the door. The floor in the hallway must’ve finally gave way. The little girl whimpered, her bottom lip trembling as she looked at the woman for hope.

Wheezing, Cardi placed her burned, stinging palm on the girl’s smoke covered cheek. ‘Don’t— worry. We will figure out a plan.’ Suddenly, loud cracking filled the poisoned air. She looked up to see ceiling, cracking. Quickly. Right before the ceiling finally crumbled, Cardi snatched little Mya up with all the strength she had left in her and dashed to the corner of the room, sitting right beneath the window.

Mya screamed in fear as they watched the floor eat the heavy debris covered in flames. ‘Shhhh… shhh. It’s… OK.’ She stroked the child’s head sweetly. Cardi watched that hole in the floor. Glowing like the fiery pits of hell. She wasn’t the type to give up… but she was tired. Literally burnt out. Never would she have imagined though, she’d die this way.

Holding the small girl in her lap as Cardi gained closure of her fate, she whispered, ‘How… old are you?’

The little girl wheezed… hesitating to answer as her weakness got the best to her too. ‘… 4…’

‘Oh…’ she scoffed weakly, ‘You are… the bravest… 4 year old… I’ve ever…’ she was struggling. She was so tired. ‘Sleep.. so… sleepy.’ And finally… letting the idea of sleep, welcome her with open arms.

But, only for a short moment.

She didn’t feel herself being lifted off of the ground, nor did she really have the strength to open her eyes all the way.

Through blurry eyes, she saw red and blue. Wheezing— she couldn’t say much. Too weak to even mouth anything… she just laid there almost lifeless in his arms.

Hearing the cheers of people around them, chanting his name as he carried both her and the little girl towards the stretchers. They had placed oxygen masks over their noses. The child was interacting well with her father… but Cardi— was barely holding up. Finally, opening her eyes a little bit more, she was able to see his face. They were tired and still burned as if someone stuck hot coals on them.

But he was so much more beautiful… majestic up close. She had encountered him before… but to have him save her— she was lost for words… wasn’t like she could talk anyway.

‘You’re going to be alright, ma’am.’ He said, his voice stern, deep and positive. Giving him a weak smile as they lifted her up in the truck, the soon passed out once again once out of her sight.

***

She had awakened in the worst pain she could ever imagine. Cardi ached so bad, she could not move. ‘Ah.’ Her voice was still partially gone, her throat hurt and the lights were so damn bright.

Blinking enough times to make out her surroundings, she took note that she was in the hospital, and what she went through the other night was not in fact a dream but real life. She carefully looked over to the left to her table was covered in flowers and cards. They looked fresh and alive.. so she couldn’t have been out for a long time. What a relief.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x plus size reader #henry cavill x black reader #superman fanfiction #superman fanfic #man of steel #henry cavill superman #clarkkent #Clark Kent #kal el #Bruce Wayne #Ben Affleck Bruce Wayne #ben affleck batman

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cumbercookiebatchs · 4 years ago

Note

What happens when Grantaire’s ex comes to town and wants to reconnect despite knowing he’s in a new relationship (with E) 👀

ps i love you

Armand had asked Grantaire to go pick him up from the airport.

"I'm coming back to Paris in two days, could you come and give me a ride home? Landing's at 10:00.

XX"

A simple text two mornings before the landing with no notice, Grantaire didn't even know from where he was coming back. Enjolras's eyebrow had taken a lift to the crown of his hair at the two x's, but Grantaire's one had beaten it, flying up as Armand's name flashed on his screen.

"you think you'll go?" Enjolras had asked him, perched on his lap between two bites of takeout. "I don't know", Grantaire leaned in to steal the second bite, smiling at Enjolras when he let him eat it, "wouldn't it be rude not to go?"

"You're worried about being rude? You?"

Grantaire gaped at him and laughed, tickling his belly and making him laugh as well until Enjolras screamed at him to stop and let him breathe. His cheeks had gotten really red, and he snuggled closer to Grantaire again, snatching the dessert away from him and opening it himself.

"I'm not actually worried about being rude, I just want to understand what would generate the less drama. You know, if I don't go he could think I don't want to see him".

Enjolras hummed and popped a spoonful of cake into his mouth, "do you want to see him?".

"Not really"

"But?"

"But I wouldn't want him to think I don't want to see him because I'm mad at him or something".

On his lap, Enjolras shifted and the hem of his shorts rode up a bit, leaving space to the soft skin of his inner thigh. Grantaire rested his hand there, rubbing his thumb back and forth on the uncovered patch. Enjolras let him do and leaned up to feed him a bit of cake, "Then go. But I'm coming with you".

"What, you don't trust me?"

"I don't trust him."

"Oh baby, you're cute when you're jealous"

"I'm not."

...

At the airport, Armand had left his suitcase behind to run to Grantaire and jump between his arms.

Laughing.

Clinging.

Enjolras had to admit he was a little jealous. But even if he hadn't, the nerve jumping on his temple spoke loud enough.

...

Everyone liked Armand. Everyone.

Eponine had even hugged him.

Enjolras didn't really know how they'd ended up all together into Grantaire's apartment, but the movie was on before he could even realize it, and his spot on the couch had been taken. By Armand.

Armand, who was clinging to Grantaire's arm.

Never one to be outdone, Enjolras plopped himself into Grantaire's lap, smiling a bit too smugly when Grantaire's arms wrapped around him, dislodging Armand's hands in the while.

...

Armand still had the ring Grantaire had bought for him. He wore it as a necklace.

Enjolras couldn't tell what face he'd made when learning about it, but it had Courfeyrac bursting into laughter. Even Combeferre chuckled a bit.

Grantaire, for his part, was a bit confused. Bless him but he genuinely didn't think Armand was trying to get his thief's hands all over him.

He would just kiss Enjolras's temple and tell him "he's just like that. Beside, I only have eyes for you darling".

Yes, well, Enjolras didn't doubt that. It was Armand that had him turn into an hissy mess.

Then, then Armand tried to kiss Grantaire, and Enjolras caught them by accident, but just as he was about to march over there Grantaire moved away and dodged his lips, a bit shocked and a bit terrified and also blushing red.

Even in his rage, enjolras couldn't help but notice how cute his boyfriend was. He maybe ended up swooning a bit at Grantaire's words as he turned Armand down.

He stepped inside just as Armand turned to leave, fighting the childish impulse to stick his tongue out at him and smiling brightly at Grantaire, walking right between his arms to kiss him soundly.

It had Grantaire chuckle, and Enjolras batted his lashes at him in away that was supposed to look innocent but really really wasn't. Grantaire just grinned and kissed his nose, "I know you've seen everything"

"Maybe"

"Are you mad at me?"

"It depends. Did you tell him those things just because you knew I was there?"

But he was teasing and Grantaire knew it well, and tugged him close by the waist, "you already have your answer, my heart is yours for as long as you'll want it".

"Then you'll never get it back. But you can have mine instead"

#I love you too dear #Thank you♥️♥️♥️#Enjolras #Enjoltaire #enjoltaire headcanon #Enjoltaire short story #Riri's writing

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aliypop · 4 years ago

Text

Blood Lust (Part 3)

Word count: 2,855

Warning : Language

A/N : Part 3 ! I dedicate this tp @kayte-wren, @a-supernatural-writer, @pitiful-anonymous-vampire and @ocfairygodmother You guys are all amazing!, also I’m glad to have rewritten Tiffany’s past of 1906 and yes I know Vlad and Drac are the same but I made them twins, also pay attention to the mention of gloves and fans *wink won*

"Well, let's just say there was a reason Max taunted me so much," Tiffany grumbled, "If you'll excuse me, I'm tired, and that's a story for another time." she giggled. Tiffany curled back up on the couch as Angelica grumbled, "It would've been nice to know more..." her fingers playing with the ring, tracing the stones, "Not that you're my sister who I'm trying to know more about..." she poked Tiffany's cheek watching as brown eyes panned to see that the boys agreed with Angelica's tantalizing words,

"Alright, fine, you wanna know more..." Tiffany rolled her eyes as Marko and Paul both sat on the armrest, getting comfortable, "I'll take that as a yes..." Both Dwayne and David sat on the floor next to Angelica Jasper sat on the other sofa curled up in a tattered blanket. "Alright, Well, a few months after the engagement of Dracula and I had company..." she smiled, " An adorable lawyer named Johnathan Harker... " Tiffany giggled, "What a fool he was..."

It was a stormy night in Transylvania. The moon was high above the night sky as owls and wolves who'd and howled amongst Castle Dracula. There in the grand dining hall sat Johnathan Harker, dark brown hair and a pure young lovesick look in his eyes caused by his lover Mina. Tiffany sighed, watching the two talk, her immortal heart yearning for what they shared, cold hands wrapped around her waist as the silk fabric of a cape brushed against her arms. "You aren't dressed yet. Why," Dracula asked, laying his chin on top of her head, "Not hungry..." she replied, looking at him, "Besides, they're your guests. I wouldn't want to intrude." she laughed, breaking from his grip as she went to their "Shared" room. Dracula, however, made his way down the stairs joining the couple.

"Do forgive my lateness... My betrothed has fallen ill and won't be joining us..."

"Is she okay..." Mina asked, her eyes focused on the vampire, a bashful blush coming across her face. "She's just a bit tired, is all..." he smirked, his eyes averted to the pulsating vein in her throat. His hands caressing hers while Johnathan's eyes averted to a shadowed figure in the candlelight, rubbing his eyes, he felt his mind was playing tricks on him much as they did before when he went exploring on his own around the large castle. As the shadow crept closer, the hairs on his neck began to stand still as the air around them shifted while the candle lights no longer flickered. The feel of deaths nurturing cold hands reached out to the lawyer. A long metal pointed ring at his neck. Johnathan turned to look back, but nothing was there yet again. Dracula only grumbled, knowing who was behind it all.

" Is everything, okay my Count? Mina asked,

"Nothing to worry about, my pet..." Dracula smiled pouring, glasses of " wine."

"Seems we have a visitor..." Dracula mumbled the silhouette of well-kept hair from the balcony peering down at him. Both Johnathan and Mina were "drunk" as Dracula made his move to sweep Mina away to give her death's sweet kiss upon her neck. "Funny since I started trusting you, nothing good has happened..." Tiffany laughed, making the blood inside Dracula boil,

" Careful, aren't you..." he scoffed, his lips nearly meeting Mina's lips for a kiss. "I could kill everyone in this town before they could even rise to their feet: skills like that do wonders for self-confidence," Tiffany responded, cutting a gash in Johnathan's neck, her teeth sinking to the fresh dark red oozing down. Droplets formed around her lips as she flashed a smile towards the other vampire. Dracula took Mina by the hand as he kissed her, eyes wide open as his eyes looked towards Tiffany. He could see the subtle feelings for him crack right in the windows of her eyes. The Harkers both laid there lifeless as Tiffany had only stormed up the steps.

"How could you..." she turned to face him.

"How could I what," he smirked, "You're just an experiment ..." he leaned in closer, " A lover when I need you to be..." he whispered, tilting her chin, "You're nothing...but my bride of course." he kissed her as she fell into his grasp.

"Woah, wait, you two bickered then made up..." Paul blinked. Tiffany smiled as she reached out to touch his hand, "I talked back, and he threw me in the cellar with his brides..." she shrugged, "Was it bad..." Angelica asked, sitting in Jaspers' lap.

"Well, with Draci, it isn't easy, his tempers short, and his brides are sleazy..."

The year was 1905. Sitting in the cellar was Tiffany, brides surrounding her, taking nearly every drop of blood. It became her punishment every time she denied Dracula a propper wedding, her skin growing pale as veins covered her features almost as if she were dying. "And who do we have here..." A tall, lanky man asked, standing next to Stewart.

"This is Tiffany..."

"Stewart..." She whispered, her eyes fluttered, looking at the brown-haired man who by stature looked rich as well as a vampire. "Let's get her cleaned up..." he smiled at the familiar, lukewarm water had touched her skin as Stewart washed her hair from dirt and residue. "Tiffany, we're gonna get you out of here..." he smiled as she hummed, "You're the best..." she slurred. As Tiffany was made up and dressed, she stood in front of the well-renowned businessman.

"Maximillium... Carmilla's prodigy." Tiffany cleared her throat of Stewarts' blood. "At your service, Countess..." he kissed her hand, "The Count and I aren't married actually..." she interjected, tapping her nails on her ring, "Oh, sorry for the mistake..." Max mumbled,

"What did you come here to do, Lord Maximilian..." she yawned, Stewart still standing in front of her,

"Perhaps you'll join me in America... Santa Carla, California, I'm making a grand haven hotel if you will." he smiled, "To have such a refined vampire as yourself would be an honor ..." a devious smirk from beyond his lips.

"And when will it be done... "

"1906..."

Santa Carla 1906, the mundane capital of the world, was what they called it. As the bustle of Trollies and people fled the beach city streets, there stood a cliff with a grand hotel with a view of the ocean. Standing in front of it all was Tiffany, who was 135 white pearls graced her neck in the finest of french fabrics as her hair was in the Gibson girl, styled with an emerald jeweled comb.

"Well, mother, I made it..." Tiffany mumbled as she walked across the bustling streets towards the hotel.

"Wait, Tiff, we know this story we were there..." David smirked, keeping the drying compress on her forehead,

"You only know some of it, Mr. David... and besides, Angelica never heard it ..." she looked over towards her sister as she laughed.

"Where was I?"

"1906." Angelica smiled, "The era of romance!" her doe eyes sparkling, "Eh, the era of cowboys... and the earthquake ..." Jasper shivered while Tiffany waited while watching the two love birds converse. "Well... I remember coming out of my carriage. It was a Winston motor carriage, to be exact." Tiffany smiled, her eyes looking over at Stewart whose hands were shaking behind the wheel, sure she could have just flown in, but Tiffany was more for the dramatic flare of humanity. "Are we there yet..." Stewart mumbled,

"I should be asking you that non?" Tiffany asked, sitting in the passenger seat as her luggage sat in the back. Sunny California had seemed like the place for her. It was new and a bit dusty, but it was a gold mine, and it would soon be hers.

There were trains and riverboats, the advancements of the new world, and there sat Tiffany and Stewart in the middle of it. The feather of her hat flowing in the breeze as Stewart parked the carriage, children running by while men tipped their hats to Tiffany. "Stewart être un cher and get my bags, please..." she asked, Stewart, grumbled, pulling out the large duffle bags of dresses and hat boxes, wishing that Dracula hadn't let her go to Paris for a shopping spree.

"I'm glad that you could make it, Mrs. Monroe..." Max said, nearly making the younger woman jump. "Ms. Monroe... Mrs. Monroe was my mother," she said as Max took her by the hand, leading her towards the main street of what would one day be the boardwalk. Tiffany couldn't help but imagine all the summer events one could get into, from the waves of the beach to the romantic sea air even Stewart was impressed.

"I think this is it..." he lugged everything onto the luggage cart. There stood Tiffany in the middle of the lobby, watching as patrons went by, some human and others looking for sanctuary. Tiffany could hear Stewarts' heart stop when she saw his eyes focused on a pretty well dressed curly-haired blond,

"Parle lui maintenant..."

"Tiffany non... what if he doesn't isn't ..."

"Isn't what..." Tiffany got closer to the brunette.

"Balancer dans l'autre sens..."

"I don't know he's swinging his eyes your way..." she laughed, pushing him over to the guy.

"Good luck, mon amie!"

"Wait... Wait, You played matchmaker for Stewart and me?" Marko asked, "No fucking way!" Tiffany let out a gut-wrenching laugh, "Actually, you're the reason he wanted to turn..." she smirked, "But we'll get to that eventually ..." she smiled.

"You are how Armand and Lestat described you..."

"All good things, I do hope..." Tiffany chuckled as she walked towards Vlad, Dracula's older brother.

" A splitting image of frumuseţe itself." His thick Romanian accent made her laugh a bit, reminding her of the man she'd never return to,

"Perhaps you'd like to meet the others..."

"Others?"

"Like us."

Tiffany only laughed as she then blinked, "You mean ..." she watched as he nodded, Clare de Lune playing in the background while Tiffany stared at Vlad, almost identical to his younger sibling. All he was missing was the cloak.

"Well, at least let me change into something more formal." she nearly screeched at the idea of being seen in high society in her traveling attire. "Dwayne, come..." Vlad gestured the dark-haired vampire over. Tiffany's eyes had nearly dilated as both Max and Vlad talked about their dinner plans. "I bet gals are always all over you huh," Tiffany moved a loose curly strand of hair from her face twirling it around her finger, her brown cheeks flustering up from a blush. "Some do." he winked, "Is that so..." she smirked, pulling on her right glove, her thumb a bit exposed,

"Hey, Dwayne!" he turned around to see his brother behind him, "The guys need your help..."

"With..."

"Well, paul stole a lady's necklace... and "

"To your room Ms. Monroe..." Stewart joked, watching in the gaze of the woman's eyes.

"Stewart, do you think this will do..." Tiffany asked as she held up a beaded black evening gown, "Or perhaps it's too formal, non?'' She mumbled, pacing back and forth in the spacious room. Stewart laughed at the woman as he helped her tie her corset, his heart still set on the man he met earlier, "Why not make an entrance. It is what you do best." He watched t as Tiffany puffed out her cheeks, "But I want to blend in ... and, You are still human, so surprise me." she frailed her hands up, "Until tonight..." he mumbled, helping her with the beaded gown. "What do you mean not for long..." Tiffany shot her head up

"You look stunning, madame. " Stewart smiled, trying to change the subject, "Ribbon, Pompadour, or perhaps the Gibson ?" he asked.

"They're all my best looks, Stewart, but why not... is this about the mystery man..." She poked fun at her familiar "It's not about him besides... you haven't been in love for over a hundred years an-"

"Ah-ha..."

"What..."

"I never asked if you loved him."

"And I never asked about what was his name... oh right! Dwayne."

Standing in the grand ballroom were Vlad, Max, and the most youthful-looking boys she had ever seen. Three with golden hair and the one from earlier. " Boys, This is Lady Tiffany Monroe, the pearl of Orleans." he introduced her as she tipped her black feathered hat to the boys, her fan hanging and closed from her left hand. "Salutations, and please call me Tiffany," she suggested as she walked down the stairs, Stewart standing next to her, " Well, introduce yourselves..." Vlad nudged his newly turned Vampires, "They're a bit shy..."

"I was shy myself when I first turned ." she laughed, playing on the nature of the two as she walked towards Dwayne and his brother. She could smell the disparity of them all. They were lost boys orphans in different ways, "That's Dwayne; he's not much of a talker. I'm his brother Jasper." the young boy smiled.

Tiffany laughed a bit as she looked at Jasper, "Well, sometimes few words are better than a mouthful." she glanced at Dwayne and winked her fan in front of her face.

Her eyes then caught on towards two playful blondes clearing her throat as Tiffany approached them, first the taller one, he was covered in a bit of dirt and looked to be around 18, gesturing to shake his hand, Tiffany watched him flinch,

which told her a bit about him, wavering trust she knew that all too well from her previous upbringing and engagement.

"I'm not going to hurt you at all." she placed a hand on top of her heart, noticing the dangling necklace from earlier. "So tell me, what's your name?"

"Paul Campbell." he gave her a grin, "And the short one over there is Marko." She watched as Marko rolled his eyes, doll-like features but chaos behind his eyes. She could see why Stewart was so smitten with him, " Trying to rescue us or somethin..." Marko nearly spat, annoyed by her presence.

"I don't even know why I'm here." she shrugged as she then saw from the corner of her eyes caught the stare of icy blue eyes looking towards her way, " Who's he..." her breath hitched,

"That's David, but if you're interested, don't be..." Jasper whispered,

"And why not..."

"He's in love with Anastasia ..." the four all said in unison in annoyed tones, "He must talk about her a lot, huh," she asked, watching as they nodded.

"Anastasia's so pretty... stars even outshine her..." Paul mocked him,

"Hey! she was pretty..." David pushed him off the couch,

"Chill, man: I'm just joking..." Paul hit him back as Tiffany shook her head.

"David Paul cut it out..." Tiffany glared at them both, a dry cough escaping her.

"What happened next, Tiff..." Angelica whispered.

"She talked to David," Jasper answered.

"Stewart, don't wait up for me..." her dark brown hair tied up in a ribbon, "Are you going out to feed ..." he asked, his eyes adjusting to his new powers.

"Ah, no. " she smiled, her dressing robe trailing behind her. Laying on the restaurant floor were David and Marko, who seemed to be bumbling like an idiot about his lover Anastasia, "It's bullshit..." David grumbled, "She's not gonna want a guy like me..."

"I mean, you can't shoot for shit, and you can't even die with her." he shrugged, "Pretty useless if you ask me." he began to laugh until the candles around them thinned out,

"Mind if I join you, men..." Tiffany asked, standing in the doorway, "As a woman myself, I'd say if she loves you, she won't care what you can't or can do..." Marko only looked over his shoulder as he blushed, "And you are..." David asked.

"Tiffany, you seem to be a bit in a bunch about this girl," she said, laying out on the floor,

"She's perfect, rich, perfect ..." he sighed, moving a hair from his face, "Sounds like utter shit... " Tiffany laughed. David looked at her, shocked at her use of swears, something he had never heard a woman such as herself use. "I mean... rich and perfect could mean the taste of a chuck steak... for Christ sakes... but when you're dead, you fall for the soul..." her eyes looking up at the ceiling, "Passion... sensuality ... But I wouldn't know anything about that !" she turned to look at David.

"I guess your right Darlin..." he laughed, "Smoke?" he asked, pulling a cigarette from out his pocket. Taking the cigarette, Tiffany inhaled as her eyes watered a bit, laughing as she coughed in between,

"It's inhaled then exhaled." he smirked, "Got a last name, Darlin."

"Monroe and you..." she leaned in close.

"Har-"

"Ms. Monroe, a letter from Dracula..." Max smirked

"Then what happened..." The boys asked as Tiffany swooned, "I fell in love with two amazing men... I broke off my engagement to Dracula, and I've been lost in the shadows ever since."

#The Lost Boys 1987 #the lost boys #the lost boys the beginning #david the lost boys #jasper the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #tiffany monroe the lost boys oc #max the lost boys #dracula #angelica the lost boys oc #stewart the lost boys oc #new series #new fic

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