#*in jacob's voice* oh father and daughter

[crazykuroneko]

this photo from delainey's Instagram is so cuuuute

[seresinhangmanjake]

It's What You Make It

Dad!Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female reader

Summary: Jake hasn't been on the best of terms with his parents since they found out about you and his baby, and now his mother decides she wants to meet her granddaughter.

Warnings: cursing maybe? Protective Jake

Notes: Suggested by an anon / Part of the Oh, Baby Universe.

Words: 4200

-----

“Jake, dear, your mother would like to meet her granddaughter.”

It was cruel, really, to have such devastating words leave the lips of one of those he loved the most, but maybe that was why she of all people was tasked with it. He wasn't likely to listen to another on the matter. Hell, had anyone else but she called, he wouldn't have answered, and he struggled not to see it as a bit of a betrayal. A trick.

"Gram," he sighed into the phone, running a hand through his hair, "I'm not doing this with them. After everything we just faced with her mother, why should we put ourselves through dealing with mine?"

"You know she had nothing to do with that email."

"Yea and nothing to do with discouraging it, either."

The other end of the line went silent. Jake looked to his left where his daughter was being bounced on her mother's lap just out of earshot. You smiled at the girl, but the stone now sitting on Jake's heart kept it from swelling as it normally would at the sight of your brightened face. 

His perfect little family. Safe and sound in California. Far from Texas. Far from the people you'd yet to learn criticized you for your past choices. 

When you first asked about them, Jake couldn't hide the fact that his parents were displeased with the coming of his daughter. He'd blamed it on their lack of open-mindedness to the girl being brought into his life under ‘unique’ circumstances, and while that was in fact a part of it, the bulk of their problems they placed solely in you and not trusting why you bothered to return when you left him to begin with. They buried you under a mountain of their judgment and you were completely unaware. But that was how he wanted to keep it. He wanted you in the dark. Oddly enough, the darkness was where you were safest. And that plan had been working so well, too. You had a healthy understanding of the difficulty of parents, and after the way your mother treated him the month prior you hadn't pressured him for more information on his. 

I only care about the three of us, Jake. As long as we're together, nothing else matters—that's what you'd said. You sealed that promise with a kiss that led to hours in bed full of sex and naps and cuddles and what felt like hundreds of exchanges of 'I love yous'. 

The issue with his parents wasn't brought up again.

And now his grandmother was ruining it. 

"What do you expect of me, Gram?" he asked; the first of his rapid-fire questions. "To bring them there? To subject them to that? You really want me to hurt my girlfriend? My daughter? What even makes you think Mom cares to see Eve? There's no way she admitted—"

"Breathe, dear," she soothed. And Jake did as told, but it didn't make him feel the slightest bit better. "I saw it in her eyes."

He sighed, chest noticeably deflating. "Oh, come on. I love you, Gram, but seriously?"

"Jacob Seresin, you hush," she scolded, her voice raised and tinny through the speaker. "You asked me a question, so listen up."

Jake grumbled, defeated. The senior Eve had that power over him. She was the mother his mother should have been. She taught him plenty and raised him well. He knew how to respect his woman because of his Gram. He treated you the way you deserved because she made sure to instill in him the value of women where his own parents had failed to do. 

So he listened. 

"When I returned from my visit a couple of weeks ago, your mother snuck in the casual question or two whenever your father wasn't around," she explained. "And I told her. Anything she cared to know. That Eve is beautiful and her mother is a stunner." Jake's lips curved upward despite the anxiety building in his chest. "That your girls are perfect. That you are happier than I've ever seen you."

"...And?"

"And she nodded and got a little grin on her face."

Jake waited for more, but it didn't come. His hand rose and fell, smacking against the side of his thigh. "That's your only argument to encourage surrendering the happiness of my family to a couple of snakes?"

"Snakes?" He could practically see the roll of her eyes. "Really, dear?"

"I read you the email."

The email he'd received a few weeks after he got you back and learned of his daughter's existence. The one that spat aggressive levels of disappointment in him, and called you an abundance of names that nearly had him crushing his phone in his palm. The one that expressed very clearly his parents' refusal to acknowledge the woman he loved and his baby as their family.

"No," Jake said as he shook his head. "No, I'm not doing it."

"I'm not saying you have to, dear. I'm just telling you that there is someone else who might want to be a part of your daughter's life. That's more family for Eve to be surrounded by. Another person to love her."

—-

He’d promised her he’d think about it. And while he really wished he could forget her words, they were persistent, nagging, and unwilling to get out of his way; like a damn fly buzzing around his face during all hours of his days and nights. 

His grandmother was wise and she was clever to tap into one of his life’s motivations: to provide his daughter with as much love as possible. Though Eve did have love—from him, from you, his team, his grandmother—the potential for so much more was taken away from her. 

She didn’t see your family. They lived across the country and after the way your mother behaved, you’d pretty much cut her off for the time being. His sister’s husband was in the Air Force, stationed at Aviano in Italy with no set date of return. And his parents had made their opinions clear, so he felt it best to never let you or Eve around them. But doing what he believed was best didn’t stop the guilt of denying Eve her family, of not giving her enough. He thought about Christmas coming up and how she wouldn’t have her grandparents. He thought about the major events in her life to come; the birthdays and school plays, the graduations, and the, hopefully only, wedding. 

Wait, he stopped himself, scratch the wedding. No wedding. How could his daughter possibly have a wedding if she would never be dating to begin with? 

But there was still enough remaining to worry him. 

Jake didn’t want a day to come when Eve looked around the room and wondered why she didn’t have the people in her life that her friends at school did. She deserved everything he could possibly give her, and his grandmother calling to inform him he wasn’t providing that was a stab to the heart. 

“You’re lost.” 

The voice—your voice—was one of two powerful enough to crack the thick shell surrounding his thoughts. 

Your fingers wove through his hair as he focused his vision on your face, letting the fog clear to make out the perfection he saw in each feature. You wiggled on the mattress, inching your body closer to his and he lifted his arm to drape over your waist. 

“What’s going on?” you asked. “You’ve been zoning out for three days.”

He wouldn’t lie to you—never could. And even if he tried, it would be a waste of breath with the way you managed to sniff out untruths like a damn bloodhound. The information he didn’t tell you he always preferred to label as ‘omissions.’ Those could just barely slip by your clever brain. And he’d only ever done it twice; when he’d neglected to spill his hidden love, and when he hadn’t provided you with all the details of his father’s email. Both seemed like good ideas at the time. Necessary. But now…

“According to Gram,” Jake sighed, “my mother wants to meet Eve.”

You tried to control your face, but the ceasing of your nails grazing across his scalp was enough to tell him you were plenty shocked. Likely plenty terrified, too, with the trauma of the last parental interaction.

“Oh.” You blinked once, twice, three times, as your lips parted and sealed and parted again. “So, that means…what? They're fine with everything now?"

"I doubt it, but…" Jake bit the inside of his cheek. Shook his head. “Honey, I’m really not sure.”

“You trust them?”

“No.”

“Then what do you want to do?”

He didn’t know, not even after three days of thought. He cared about protecting his family, but whether or not introducing his mother to you and his daughter would be a choice he'd come to regret was hard to say. “What do you think we should do?”

“Baby, your family, your decision.”

With a groan, Jake pulled you closer and turned onto his back, settling your body on top of his. 

“But you’re so much smarter than me,” he said, wrapping his arms snuggly around your waist and tilting his chin up for a kiss.

You let him kiss you, despite the weight of the conversation surely causing you as much unease as it was him. You let him kiss you for as long as he wanted. Like you knew just how badly he needed it in that moment. How badly he needed you. 

“You’re no idiot, Jake Seresin," you said when he decided it was fair to let you breathe. "I’ll do whatever you think is best.”

He hummed, pushing some of your hair back behind your shoulder. “Why do you have to be so damn supportive and reasonable?”

You smiled so sweetly. Leaned in closer. 

“Because I trust you," you whispered, letting your lips slowly travel around his face, pressing gentle kisses where you could. "And I believe in you."

You pulled back, locking your eyes with his, and as you stroked his cheek, you said, “Because you’re my teammate, Jake.” 

He let your words soak in—filling him, sating him—before taking a deep inhale through his nose. On the heavy exhale he released a breathy “Fuck.”

You chuckled. “What?”

“It’s just extremely hot when you say shit like that and I am trying to make a decision that really isn’t helped by my dick getting hard.”

He swelled larger in his underwear as he spoke and he could see the very second that mischievous glint took root in your eye.

“Aw," you pouted, slightly grinding your hips into his, making his breath hitch, "Does my man get turned on by commitment?"

His fingers dug into your waist to hold you still, and with a scowl, he said, "You already knew that so quit teasing me."

“Who's teasing?" You asked as you gave him a peck. "You've been distracted for three days, and I miss you. So let me take your mind off it. Then we can get some sleep and talk it over in the morning."

He loved you for that. That you knew him enough to refrain from pushing him in any direction. You knew enough to know when he needed a distraction from the things that most bothered him. 

"Deal," he whispered. Then his fingers tangled in your hair and he pulled your face closer to his. 

—-

It wasn't talked about in the morning. Not that one nor the weeks worth that followed. The distraction Jake had been so thankful for continued to find itself in the forms of wake-up sex, and invigorating work days, and evenings filled with dedicated family time—things he actually cared about. Thinking about what to do with his mother had been bothersome enough that at the first chance to brush it aside, it slipped from his mind without effort. And he didn’t care, just as he didn’t care how his life had completely split after his father sent that email. 

It was a clean severing, like a hot blade through butter, and the two new parts were far from equal. You and his daughter occupied one chunk of his divided world—the larger of the two—and the other chunk was where his parents remained, dwarfed under the shadow of its massive counterpart. It was too easy to let go of that extra bit that was hanging off the end of what was an otherwise perfect life, so he did. 

He didn’t follow up with his grandmother—

A mistake he discovered when his mother walked through the front door of the Hard Deck and disrupted the peace surrounding his little family.

His trio had decided to have lunch with Rooster at the bar well before opening hours, and it was the lack of overlapping voices, clinking glasses, and occasional drunken shouting which allowed for the clicking of heels across hardwood flooring to echo clearly throughout the room. 

Three voices went eerily silent, the only continuous sound being that of Eve shaking her rattle toy, lost in the sweet ignorance of childhood and completely oblivious to the thickness that had just swelled throughout the bar. 

Jake glared at his grandmother who was just off to the side of her daughter-in-law. She stared back, a look of complete innocence on her face until she grew bored with silent standoff and, with a roll of her eyes, made a beeline for you and Eve. She smiled wide, immediately popping the bubble that was holding everyone hostage, to give you a little hug around the shoulders before kissing the top of Eve’s head. 

“Oh, I missed you,” she said as huddled beside the small girl.

Jake stood from the rounded table and crossed his arms over his chest, the movement broadening his shoulders and thickening his muscles, like an animal determined to protect his mate and cub from any predator bold enough to test him. And as far as he was concerned, that was exactly what he was looking at. The woman standing still as a statue twenty feet from him was not someone he recognized anymore. He couldn’t guarantee that her next move would not be in the form of a threat, so he didn’t risk it. 

His mother raised her hand in a wave weakened by uncertainty. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Her voice was meeker than he expected, and she stood less confidently than he’d ever known in his thirty-four years. Her styled hair and perfectly painted nails and carefully applied makeup suddenly seemed unnatural on the woman before him, like an ill-fitting costume hanging off her body with an uneasy facial expression to match. 

“Gram,” Jake began, a deep grit to his tone. He didn’t tear his eyes away from his mother. “What did you do?”

Without glancing her way, Jake knew his grandmother had taken his seat at the table, holding his daughter and likely making silly faces at her as she inserted herself in what was his pleasant weekend.

“You two need to talk,” she said. There was a smile in her voice. A giggle from Eve. “You weren’t going to make the first move, and she was coming either way, so I figured it would be best if I tagged along.”

The crease in Jake’s brow deepened. That was not enough for him. “No warning?”

“Nope. You wouldn’t have agreed.”

He shook his head. His mother still hadn’t moved. 

"Is he here?" Jake finally asked her.

His mother startled at his directness, but she recovered after a moment’s passing and took a step closer that Jake immediately made up by taking a step back. She paused. "Jake—"

"Is he here?" he snapped.

The new silence in the aftermath of his sharp tone was loud, terribly loud, and long-lasting. Painfully so.

"Uh, family?" Rooster suddenly said from behind him. "Why don't we take a little walk on the beach."

Chairs scraped across the floor and Jake couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so thankful for his friend. Rooster was the only other person to know the full truth of what was said about Jake’s girlfriend and daughter, and he undoubtedly felt the storm brewing. A storm he knew Jake wouldn’t want his family to witness. 

No one argued, and as the others made their way outside, you appeared in front of him, breaking the tension of his steady stare. He looked at you, making sure to soften the hard edge in his eyes to soothe the worry in yours, but it didn’t work. His smile was tight-lipped and brief.

"Go with them, Honey," he whispered with a nod toward the door. He took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles before running his thumb over the top of them. "It's ok."

He tried that smile again, but the expression on your face made it known he was no more convincing than before.

With your free hand you cupped his cheek, then you stood up on your toes to press your lips to his—a little token of strength. When you stepped away from him, you snuck a quick look at his mother before you were on your way, following everyone else out the back door onto the beach. 

Only once you were out of his sight did Jake allow his eyes to land back on his mother.

She swallowed hard, her shaky hands clasped in front of her. "She's lovely," she said.

"She is," he replied, crossing his arms once again, stony glare back in place. "Where's Dad?"

Her nerves radiated through the room. He could practically see them—thin wiggly lines emanating from her form. 

"He's on a business trip. He doesn't even know I came. I just wanted to meet them. I'm only here for a couple of days and—"

"What happens when he finds out?” Jake interjected. “He'll lose his mind. He’ll show up here, and he won't walk away without making his point clear when it comes to my girlfriend and baby."

He could feel his voice raising as he continued to speak, but he couldn’t restrain himself. The pure rage he’d been trying to tamp down for months was yanked to the surface now that he was looking directly into the eyes of someone who had no issue insulting you, and therefore, hurting him. 

She said his name again, but the overwhelming combination of her gentle tone and the pain swirling in her irises had tears beginning to coat his own, a stinging at his nose. 

It pissed him off.

"He isn't coming anywhere near them,” Jake practically growled, that internal animal determined to protect his family slipping through the calm demeanor he’d been so close to regaining. “Do you understand me? After the things he said, the things he called her? It's not happening."

His mother nodded. "I understand."

"That little girl is mine. I'm not being tricked into raising someone else's kid!"

"I know, sweetheart,” she said as she attempted a step closer. He flinched but didn’t move away. She took another step. “Gram showed me a picture of her. She looks just like you." 

He frowned at her hint of a smile, at her hand extending his way like to earn the trust of an aggressive puppy. 

"Jake, I'm so sorry,” She near whispered. She was closer than he realized—he blamed it on his blurring vision—and her palm tentatively landed on his forearm. “This is not how I wanted things to be. You’re my son. The woman you love is outside that door and she birthed my granddaughter.” Her fingers lightly squeezed. “The last thing I want is to be alienated from the family you’ve made.”

For what felt like the hundredth time in the last week, Jake didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think right. He felt lost, and the only things capable of bringing him to safety were not within grabbing distance, separated from him by a door that might as well have been a mile away. 

Another palm met his other forearm and his arms were carefully untwined. One of his hands was sandwiched between two smaller ones. He couldn’t decide if it was comforting. 

He’d never been terribly close to her, less close to his father, but it didn’t change that she was, in fact, his mother. He’d always feel a bond, in some form. And knowing that her actions, her words, or lack thereof, were too often influenced by being under his father’s thumb stuck in the back of his mind. Rarely did she drift, knowing she’d have to face his frustration, but she had this time, for him, for his child, and it made things all the more difficult. Confusing. 

"I know what was said was…horrible. And—" Her eyelids briefly closed as she shook her head. She blew out a subtle breath before looking up at him. “I know I didn't do anything about it. I didn't call you and tell you I wasn't on his side in this. But that's what I'm doing now."

His lips parted but she continued.

“If it doesn’t work, if you don’t want me around them, then I’ll go. I’ll respect that, sweetheart, but I just wanted to try.”

The longer she stood there, the longer she had her hands around his, looking as desperate as she did, the harder it was for Jake to maintain the same depth of anger that he’d been so attached to. It seeped away with the nagging obligation to let her try to be a grandmother to his daughter. Not just for his mother, but for Eve. His baby girl, for whom he would willingly spend his entire life trying to provide everything she deserved and more. 

Jake sighed. 

“You can meet them,” he said, “But—”

She smiled. “That’s enough for now. I wouldn’t ask for more.”

Good. He wouldn’t give her more. Not now. Not until he saw for himself how she behaved around you and his baby. 

Nodding, he said, “Come on, then.”

He could feel her nerves again as they stepped out the back door of the bar, but the moment he saw your face, all of his attention went to you and what you were going to think about what he’d just agreed to. 

You only gave a brief look to his mother, a small smile with it, before your eyes were back on his. The question in them he responded to with a nod, then his mother stepped out from behind him. She hadn’t a chance to get a good look at Eve when she arrived, but now that the girl was right in front of her, snuggled in your arms, his mother couldn’t peel her eyes away. 

Her hand raised to cover her mouth and muffle the light sob that escaped as she stared in awe at the girl. She eased over to you.

"Could I—" She started but hesitated.

Jake understood her pause. His mother was asking another mother—a woman she didn’t truly know—if she could hold her baby. And what mother would hand her child over to a stranger? He respected her for recognizing that. For not assuming she had a claim on his child. 

A relationship with Eve would be a gift to her, but not one she could demand. It was a gift that must be granted. A decision; His and yours. And while he had decided he was ok with his mother being around Eve, you, too, would have to agree. 

“Would it be alright with you if I held her?” his mother finally asked. 

You looked at Jake again and he nodded again—extra reassurance that he trusted the intentions of the woman asking you to hand over your entire world. 

Smile spreading across your face, you said, “Of course,” and lifted Eve in his mother’s direction. 

"Oh…gosh,” she breathed, settling the girl on her hip. "You're so wonderful, aren't you." 

Her words were breaking as they left her lips, but she continued to murmur sweet praises as she hugged the baby girl close, and kissed the top of her blonde head, and ran her fingers over the much smaller ones. His mother looked at and held her son’s daughter as if she were unreal, delicate, breakable. And that’s exactly what she was. Eve was a miracle—one that brought her parents together again when it seemed so horribly unlikely, and she needed to be treated as such.

Jake’s heart squeezed so beautifully at the sight, and the tears he thought had come and gone threatened to reemerge. He felt full. Oddly complete in a way he didn’t anticipate. 

It was uncomfortable to realize how much he wanted that acceptance, for himself, for you, for his child, but he couldn’t deny the relief of seeing his mother care. Not judging but loving the way he chose to live his life despite it being so different than what was expected of him. 

A brush against his hand pulled him away from the scene. You tugged on his fingers and grinned when his eyes met yours. You pulled more, but Jake was already moving to sit beside you on the bench. 

“You ok?” you asked as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You leaned into him. 

“I’m giving it a chance,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “We’ll see.”

----

A/N: this will have a 2nd part.

Turn on notifications for this blog or @seresinhangmanjake-library if you would like to keep up with my writing.

[wonderlanddreamer]

Alfie Solomons x Reader

Summary: Just an all-around cutesy fun family fic based on this request. I'm so sorry this took me so long!

The living room was a sea of chaos and laughter. Alfie Solomons and his three sons, Jacob, Levi and Noah, were engaged in an epic mock battle. Pillows were strewn about like fallen warriors, and cardboard swords clashed with imaginary foes.

Jacob, the self-appointed leader, stood atop the sofa, brandishing his makeshift sword with authority. “To arms, men! We must defend the ship from invaders!”

Levi, ever the enthusiastic six-year-old, charged forward with a pillow shield. “Aye, Captain! No pirates shall cross this line!”

Noah, the youngest at four, followed suit, his eyes wide with excitement. “I’m gonna get the treasure, Daddy!”

Alfie, playing the role of the fearsome pirate captain, let out a hearty laugh that filled the room. “Arrr, you think you can best ol’ Captain Solomons, do ye? Well, you’ll have to try harder than that!”

With a playful growl, Alfie lunged forward, swooping Noah up into his arms and spinning him around. “I’ve got you know, me heartie!”

Noah squealed with delight, waving his arms around as if trying to fly. “Put me down, Captain! I’ll tell you where the treasure is!”

Jacob, not to be outdone, leaped from the sofa with a mighty battle cry. “Charge! Rescue Noah from the clutches of the pirate!”

Levi followed, the two brothers launching a coordinated assault on their father who feigned dramatic defeat, falling to the floor with exaggerated groans. “Oh, the mighty Solomons crew has bested me! What cunning fighters you are!”

You watched from the doorway, cradling your six-month-old daughter, Rosie, who cooed happily in your arms. The boys sprawled across the floor, laughter filling the room, which made you smile. “Okay, crew. Time to tidy up on deck. Our guests will be arriving soon.”

Today was a special day, as your sister Clara and her family were visiting from the countryside. Alfie, ever the doting father, ruffled each of the boys' hair affectionately before making his way over to you. With a tender touch, he cradled the back of Rosie’s head, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek and then one on yours. You rose on your tiptoes to return the gesture with a kiss on his lips before you all busied yourselves tidying up the delightful chaos of your home.

Your family arrived a little while later, just as Alfie and the boys had renewed their game of Pirates. Clara, always the embodiment of poise and grace, stepped into the bustling household with her husband Henry and their children, Emily and James, in tow. The contrast between the two families was immediately noticeable. Emily, a ten-year-old exuding quiet confidence, and James, her shy seven-year-old brother, stood close to their parents, their eyes wide as they absorbed the lively scene around them.

Henry, a man of few words with a fondness for order, appeared slightly uneasy. His gaze lingered momentarily on the scar etched across Alfie’s face—a vivid reminder of the life Alfie had lived and the battles he had faced. Sensing her husband's discomfort, Clara, ever the diplomat, gently nudged him and offered a reassuring smile as they ventured further into the vibrant chaos.

As you ushered them into the living room, Alfie paused in his play, his gaze softening as he greeted your sister with a warm hug. "Clara, love, it's been too long. Henry, good to see you, mate," he said, extending a hand to Henry, who shook it with a polite nod.

The children exchanged tentative smiles, with Emily and James hanging back slightly behind their parents, unsure of how to navigate the exuberant energy of the Solomons boys, who had resumed their play with newfound vigor. Emily, with her neatly braided hair and a book clutched to her chest, surveyed the scene with cautious curiosity, while James, clutching a small toy car, shifted nervously from foot to foot.

“Alright, you lot, settle down for a bit,” you called out, your voice a gentle command amidst the lively chaos. The boys, though reluctant, heeded your words, collapsing onto the sofa in a tangled heap of giggles and elbows, their laughter bubbling up like an unstoppable tide.

As dinner approached, you found yourself orchestrating a delicate balance between chaos and calm. The dining table, a long, sturdy wooden piece that had witnessed countless meals and family gatherings, was set with meticulous care. Each place was adorned with simple yet elegant tableware, and the soft glow of candles flickered gently, casting a warm, inviting light across the room. The aroma of roast chicken, infused with herbs and surrounded by a medley of colorful vegetables, wafted through the air, offering a comforting contrast to the lively chatter and occasional bursts of laughter that echoed around you.

Seated at the head of the table, Alfie took it upon himself to engage Emily and James, his natural charisma shining through as he endeavored to draw them out of their shells. “So, Emily, James, you like stories, yeah? I’ve got a few good ones about treasure hunts and daring escapes that'll have you on the edge of your seat,” he announced with a grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief and a hint of challenge.

The children exchanged nervous glances, their eyes flickering between their plates and Alfie’s expectant gaze. Emily seemed both intrigued and wary. James, clutching his fork tightly, was visibly torn between curiosity and caution. Despite Alfie's best efforts, the scar that bisected his face and his naturally booming voice cast a shadow over his otherwise friendly demeanour, making the children hesitant to engage fully.

Noticing their hesitation, you leaned over to Alfie with a gentle smile, your touch on his arm a subtle cue. “Maybe start with something a bit less adventurous, love. How about the story of how you outsmarted that fox in the chicken coop?”

Alfie chuckled, a deep, warm sound that softened the edges of his rugged exterior. He nodded, shifting his approach with ease. “Ah, right, that one’s a classic. So there we were, middle of the night, and this cheeky fox thought he’d have a go at our chickens…” His voice took on a playful tone as he launched into the tale, weaving humour and suspense into his words, gradually drawing Emily and James into the story with each vivid detail. Slowly, their apprehension melted away, replaced by smiles and wide-eyed anticipation.

As Alfie wove stories with animated gestures and a playful tone, the ice continuing to thaw. Emily and James listened intently, their initial apprehension giving way to genuine curiosity. Alfie had a way of turning even the simplest story into an epic adventure, and soon the table was filled with laughter.

Meanwhile, Jacob, Levi, and Noah, ever the mischievous trio, had taken it upon themselves to share their peculiar brand of "wisdom" with their cousins. The boys, with the kind of solemnity that only children can muster, demonstrated what they deemed the "proper" way to eat peas—by launching them like tiny catapults across the table using the backs of their forks. Each pea flew through the air in a perfect arc, landing with a soft plop amidst the plates and cutlery.

Your stern look was met with their exaggerated innocence, the boys' eyes wide and faces a picture of feigned ignorance. Yet, despite your best efforts to maintain a serious demeanor, you couldn't suppress the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. The sight was both exasperating and endearing, a reminder of the boundless creativity and joy of childhood.

Little Rosie, perched in her high chair with a perfect view of the spectacle, was utterly delighted. Her tiny hands clapped together with glee, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watched her brothers' antics. Her giggles, a sweet and melodic sound, filled the room, providing a joyful counterpoint to the mayhem. Her laughter was infectious, and soon even the adults found themselves chuckling, the initial chaos softening into a shared moment of family warmth and connection.

As the meal progressed, conversation flowed more freely. Clara and Henry shared stories from their quiet village life, while you recounted the latest antics of the boys, each tale more outlandish than the last. Alfie, ever the storyteller, chimed in with anecdotes that had the whole table in stitches, even managing to coax a few smiles from Henry.

After dinner, the children burst forth into the garden, and their liberation from the confines of the dining table met with joyful exuberance. The garden, a sprawling oasis of lush green grass and vibrant wildflowers, was bordered by towering oak trees whose branches swayed gently in the evening breeze. The sky above was a canvas of deepening blues and purples, with the first stars beginning to twinkle against the fading light of day.

The Solomons' boys, natural leaders in mischief and adventure, quickly took charge, inviting Emily and James to join them in a spirited game of hide and seek. Their voices rang out through the crisp air, filled with excitement as they dashed across the lawn, weaving between garden furniture and disappearing into the shadows cast by the trees. Emily, her braids bouncing with each step, giggled as she found a perfect hiding spot behind a sprawling rose bush, while James, his earlier reservations forgotten, crouched behind a large oak, his eyes wide with anticipation. The children's laughter echoed like music, a joyful symphony that spoke of new friendships being forged in the twilight.

Inside the house, you and Clara worked side by side, clearing the table in a seamless rhythm born of years spent sharing chores and confidences. The clatter of cutlery and the gentle scrape of dishes against the wooden table were soothing, familiar sounds. Clara paused for a moment, surveying the room with a smile that reached her eyes. “You’ve got quite the lively crew here,” she commented, her voice tinged with both admiration and amusement. “But I can see the love in every corner of this home.”

You turned your gaze toward the window, where the scene outside unfolded like a cherished painting. There stood Alfie, his silhouette sturdy yet gentle against the dusky sky. He watched over the children with a gaze that was both protective and tender, embodying the essence of a guardian and a father. Rosie, nestled snugly against his broad chest, was a picture of contentment. Her tiny hand clutched his shirt as she nuzzled closer, lulled by the rhythmic motion of Alfie’s hand, which stroked her back with soothing, whisper-soft movements. Her eyelids fluttered, heavy with the promise of sleep, as she basked in the warmth and safety of her father's embrace.

“It’s chaotic, but it’s ours. I wouldn’t trade it for anything,” you replied to Clara, a sense of deep satisfaction and love swelling within you. The chaos was a tapestry of cherished moments, woven together by laughter, love, and the vibrant energy of family life.

Clara nodded thoughtfully, her gaze shifting to Alfie. “And Alfie... he’s really something. I think he won over Emily and James with that story about the fox,” she said, her voice soft with appreciation.

A chuckle escaped your lips as you recalled the scene at the table. Alfie’s voice, usually so commanding, had taken on a playful lilt, weaving a tale that captivated the children and drew them into his world. “He has a way about him. Once you get past the rough edges, he’s got the biggest heart,” you remarked, your voice filled with affection and pride. Alfie’s storytelling was more than just entertainment; it was a bridge that connected him to others, revealing the kindness and warmth that lay beneath his rugged exterior. As you and Clara continued to tidy up, the laughter from outside mingled with your own, wrapping your home in a cocoon of love and togetherness.

As the evening gradually drew to a close, the first stars began to twinkle against the velvet backdrop of the night sky, casting a serene glow over the garden. The children, their energy finally beginning to wane after a day filled with laughter and adventure, were coaxed back inside with gentle words and promises of bedtime stories. The transition from the lively outdoors to the comforting confines of the house was seamless, the warmth of the interior enveloping them like a soft blanket.

Upstairs, you tenderly settled Rosie into her crib, her tiny form nestled among the plush blankets. Her eyelids fluttered briefly, a sleepy protest against the pull of slumber, before she succumbed to the peaceful embrace of sleep. Her breathing slowed into a gentle, rhythmic pattern, each exhale a soft sigh of contentment. The boys, still buzzing with the remnants of their outdoor escapades, were soon tucked into their beds. Their whispered conversations, filled with the lingering excitement of the day, gradually faded into the background, replaced by the soothing cadence of their breaths as they drifted off to dreamland.

Downstairs, the atmosphere was relaxed and convivial. Alfie and Henry sat comfortably in the dimly lit living room, each nursing a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid caught the light, casting a warm glow that mirrored the camaraderie between them. Their conversation flowed with ease, the occasional burst of laughter punctuating their dialogue and breaking the stillness of the room. The day’s earlier formalities had given way to a genuine connection, a shared understanding forged over shared stories and mutual respect.

You joined Clara on the sofa, the cushions soft and inviting beneath you. A comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the gentle clink of tea cups and the soft rustle of fabric as James and Emily, their energy finally spent, dozed quietly with their heads resting on Clara’s lap. The moment was a peaceful respite, a chance to reflect on the day’s events.

“It was good to see you,” you said, breaking the quiet, your voice filled with warmth and sincerity. “We should do this more often.”

Clara nodded, her smile warm and genuine, radiating the affection of a sister and friend. “Definitely. It’s nice to be reminded of what’s important,” she replied, her gaze drifting momentarily to the sleeping children, her voice laced with gratitude.

As the evening wound down, the sense of fulfillment in the air was palpable. Clara and her family prepared to leave, gathering their belongings with the unhurried pace of those reluctant to part. The visit had been more than just a gathering; it was a celebration of familial strength and the joy that could be found amidst the chaos of everyday life.

Standing at the door, Alfie clapped Henry on the back with a friendly grin, the camaraderie between them evident in the easy banter. “You take care, mate. And don’t worry, next time, I’ll have even better stories,” Alfie promised, his voice a playful rumble that hinted at future gatherings filled with laughter and tales.

Henry chuckled, finally at ease, his earlier reservations long forgotten. “I look forward to it, Alfie,” he replied, the sincerity in his voice a testament to the newfound friendship between the two.

As you waved goodbye to Clara and her family, watching them disappear into the night, you felt a profound sense of contentment. The house, though quieter now, seemed to hum with a lingering warmth, a testament to the bonds that had been strengthened and the love that had been shared over the course of the day.

Turning to Alfie, who wrapped an arm around your shoulders and drew you close, you found comfort in his familiar presence. “Well, love, I reckon that went alright in the end, didn’t it?” he mused, his voice a soft rumble that resonated with satisfaction.

You nodded, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your side. “It did, indeed,” you agreed, your voice filled with both relief and joy.

Together, you lingered in the doorway, watching as Clara’s car taillights faded into the darkness. The night settled around you, quiet and still, a gentle reminder of the connections strengthened and the memories made. Feeling the warmth of Alfie's arm around you, a sense of calm and satisfaction washed over you, knowing that the day had brought everyone closer.

[baroque-hashem]

This one goes out to all my fellow patrilineal Jews.

You are Jewish!

If you identify as Jewish and live a Jewish life, you are a Jew. No ifs, no buts, you're a Jew.

The thing is, patrilineal descent is not just important in the Torah (which is our ultimate authority as Jews) it is everything. It was later rabbis that decided on the "oh patrilineal descent is invalid". The Torah never invalidates patrilineal descent.

Did Jacob have twelve sons or twelve daughters? He had sons. The People of Israel take their name and identity from a man and his sons, not from a woman and her daughters.

Who were Ephraim and Menasseh? The sons of Joseph, who married an Egyptian woman, not a Jewish woman. The sons of a goyish woman became the heads and namesakes of their own tribes. The namesake of Israel, Jacob, took in and accepted Ephraim and Menasseh as Jews, as family, even though they were born in Egypt to an Egyptian mother.

Some Jews say that the men of Israel were commanded to throw away their goyish wives and children. But Joseph did not abandon his goyish wife and his children! No! Rather, his children were accepted by the namesake of the People of Israel himself!

The father's lineage has always been important in Judaism. And in the Torah? It is the most important.

But the thing is, what does it matter whether your father or mother was a Jew, so long as you identify as a Jew and live a Jewish life?

Patrilineal Jews, do not discredit yourselves. You are as much a part of the People of Israel as any other Jew. G-d Himself says so. And who are the rabbis to argue with the Torah, the words given us by G-d? Honestly, Jews will never stop arguing. But don't let the angry voices of a few Jews drag you down. Love yourself and the beautiful Jew that you are.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

[eternalsams]

Southern Nights ⇴ M.Garcia

pairing: Mickey Garcia x fem!reader

warning/content: protective big bro energy, recomposed family, smitten Fanboy as we love him

summary: your boyfriend is finally meeting your family but it doesn't go as he planned it.

word count: 1.7k

a/n: English isn't my mother tongue, please take that into consideration.

masterlist

"What about you, Fanboy? Doing anything special for the holidays?" Rooster asked the younger man as he took a sip from his beer. Mickey couldn't contain the smile that appeared on his lips and raised his chin, a proud look in his eyes. "I do, actually. Meeting my girl's family for the first time." All his friends howled and cheered him on, making him slightly blush. "This is getting serious, Garcia. Make sure to compliment the mama and stay away from the pop's shotguns." Hangman clapped his hand on Mickey's shoulder with a sneer. "Not everyone keeps shotguns to terrorize their daughter's boyfriend, Bagman." Phoenix slapped the blonde's hand from Fanboy's shoulder before turning to the WSO. "Don't worry, I'm sure they're gonna love you. If your girl's as wonderful as you say, her parents must be amazing people too." She reassured him. "You seem pretty in love, where did you hide the ring?" Payback teased his WSO. "In my gym bag." He admitted, not ashamed of how smitten he is for his girl. "What did you say her name was again?" Hangman's voice teased again. Mickey turned to him with a fake-smile. "Not your business, Bagman."

You were practically jumping at the sight of your childhood house. It's been so long. Your hand holding his, you were pulling him toward the big house. You both walked up the few steps on the porch and before you could knock at the door, Mickey dropped the bags he had in other hand and pulled up against him before kissing you deeply. You were surprised but didn't complain. You pulled away, your cheeks flushed and looked at him. "What was that for, Mister Garcia?" You ran your fingers on his shoulders, inspecting his button-up shirt. "I don't think your parents will allow me to kiss you that way for the next week." He then pecked your lips and smiled down at you when you giggled. "You're a dork..." He bent down to grab the two bags and you went to knock on the front door. An elder woman was quick to open it and you threw yourself in her arms, wrapping your arms around her. Mickey smiled softly and locked eyes with the woman holding you close. Your mom quickly released you from the hug and she looked at you surprised. "Oh My! He's even more handsome than on the pictures you sent me!" Mickey smiled wildly at the compliment and wrap an arm around the woman who hugged him. You watched them with a loving smile and waited for them to separate to go into the house.

Mickey was met by an incredible smell and he already felt like home. "It smells amazing, Mrs Y/L/N." Mickey held onto the bags, not really sure where to put them. "Oh, you can call me Kate, sweetie. And I hope you're hungry!" She reached for your jacket to put it in the closet. "She cooked enough to feed the whole town!" A masculine voice joined the discussion. A wide grin took place on your face and you went to hug an elder man, your father, Mickey guessed. Your dad pulled away from you and straightened up to make himself taller to face Fanboy. Kind as he was, Mickey smiled at the man and extended his hand with genuine interest. "It's very nice to meet you, Sir. Y/N can't stop talking about you, both of you actually." He quickly glanced at your mom who slightly blushed and waved it off. Your father turned towards you as he shook Mickey's hand. "Did you tell him to say that?" You simply shrug and smile at him. "Maybe." Your father laughed a bit and turned back to Mickey. "It's okay, at ease, Lieutenant. And you can call me Jacob." He tapped Mickey's shoulder before taking the bags from his hand and leaving for the rooms to drop them in your room for the holidays. "Did you bring anything else with you, darling?" Your mom asked you. "Yeah, the rest is in the car." You smiled at her and she took Mickey's hand to lead him in the kitchen so he could help her setting the table. Mickey looked back at you and you waved your fingers at him with a soft smile. Your dad came back and walked to the french doors leading to the backyard. "Hey, Junior! Come help me with your sister's bags!" He called loudly to be heard over the children's screams.

"Aunt Y/N is here?" You could hear a little boy's voice ask before you were tackled by your sister's 5 year old son, and your godson. "Hey there..." You crouched down to scoop him in your arms. "I missed you. How is California?" He held you close, tightening his little arms around your shoulders. "It's amazing. It's hot, you'd love the beach. And I brought home someone I'd like for you to meet." You stroked his back and scratched the back of his head to draw his attention. He pulled back from your neck and looked at you with a frown. You said nothing and simply smiled, walking to the kitchen where your mom and Mickey were chatting. When you passed the doors, your boyfriend looked over at you and an excited grin took place on his face when he saw the child in your arms. "Noah... This is Mickey, he's my boyfriend. Mickey, this is my first love, Noah." You kissed your godson's cheek, making him giggle. Mickey walked up to you and shook Noah's hand. "It's really nice to meet you Noah, I've heard a lot about you. Wow, you really got a firm grip!" He exclaimed as he pretended to painfully rub his hand, earning a giggle from the boy. From the corner of your eye, you could see your dad and your brother walk up to your car and get everything out. Noah got shy as Mickey kept softly smiling at him and he buried his nose in your neck. "Are you in love?" He whispered in your ear, but loud enough because you could see Mickey smile even more. "We are." You answered as you rubbed his back. "Are you gonna get married and have kids?" He then asked in your ear. You smiled even more and turned your head so you could whisper back in his ear. "I hope so. I'm just waiting for him to be ready and pop the question down on one knee." The little boy laughed and squirmed in your arms. You crouched down and let him go back outside to play with his sister. The front door opened again and you could see Mickey frown when he heard your dad and your brother talk. He walked out of the kitchen and froze.

"Bagman?!" The latter froze in turn and looked at your boyfriend then looked at you. "You gotta be kidding me..." He sighed before dropping the bags he was holding. Mickey turned to you with a shocked expression and pointed at your brother. "You didn't tell me your brother was Hangman! Why isn't your name Seresin then!" The annoyed expression on Jake's face changed to a protective one when he heard your boyfriend raising his voice while talking to you. You simply chuckled and shrugged. "Because I'm not a Seresin, Jake's dad met my mom after I was born, we don't have the same dad. They got married when I was six and I got used to calling him dad." Mickey turned back to Jake who was looking between you and your boyfriend. "Everything good, Y/N?" The blonde asked. "Everything's good, Jake. Don't worry, I should've told you guys, I knew you worked together for a while and I thought it would be fun to keep this for me until your met. And it was fun." You chuckled and took your boyfriend's hand before leading him to the backyard to greet your niece and your sister and her husband. You heard Jake groaning behind you and turned back to throw him a glare, asking him silently to behave and not cause a scene. You wanted these vacations to be perfect for everyone. Jake sighed and rolled his eyes before grabbing your bags and following his dad to your room. He dropped the bags on your bed and stopped in his track and he saw Fanboy's gym bag. The ring. He quickly checked if anyone was coming in the hallway but he only heard chatting in the backyard. He opened the bag and searched for a little satin bag, a black velvety box, anything. He stopped his research when his hand touched something that had no reason to be in a gym bag. An envelop. He took it out of the bag and read your name in Fanboy's handwriting. He felt the envelop between his fingers and recognized the shape of a ring with a stone one one side. A big one, that is. He decided he knew enough and put the envelop where it was and put everything back how it was before closing the gym bag and leaving the room.

Jake joined everyone outside in the backyard, still deep in his thoughts, and was surprised when his niece threw herself in his arms, screaming and laughing, oh so happy to have her entire family reunited for the holidays. He looked up and saw you perched on Mickey's lap, laughing at something his dad said. He locked eyes with the WSO and walked up to them, dropping off the little girl so she could go play with her brother. "I saw you brought your gym bag." He said directly to Fanboy who froze and widened his eyes. All colors left his face and he realized Jake knew about the ring and that he planned to propose. To Jake's sister. You turned to your boyfriend and furrowed your frows, feeling there was a silent discussion between the two men. "I know a good place for a good run, I'll show you tomorrow morning if you want." The blonde pilot tapped Mickey's shoulder who seemed to breathe for the first time since his colleague opened his mouth. His grip on your hips loosened and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you closer and resting his chin on your shoulder. "Thanks, man." He only said before turning his attention back to the two children trying to show him what they learned in gym class.

[thegoldfishkid13]

Gone Jasper Hale x Human Reader

Warnings: Mental health and things like that are involved, swearing, Self harm is mentioned.

Word count: 709

Type: Angsty fluff at the end.

Masterlist

    Sitting on the bathroom floor with blood dripping down my arm, and I new I had fucked up. Things were going great before Jasper had up and left with the rest of his adopted family. For years I had struggled with self harm and mental health issues; well until I had met Jasper and he helped.

  Tears rolled down my cheeks as I stared at the mess I had made, I slowly raised from the floor and walked over to the sink and grabbed gauze and started to gently wipe the blood in fear of making my arm hurt worse. All I wanted to do was lie in bed and cry. I continued to wipe my arm until the blood was gone, and then bandaged the cuts up. I disposed of the razer that I had used and walked to my room, feeling light headed I sat down at my desk and opened my computer. I opened up to my emails, not expecting to see anything new from Jasper; which there wasn’t.  I created a new email to Alice and vented to her, hoping that she would at least see it, but it's all false hope. I got up and changed and went to grab my keys because I have plans with Bella, who was worse than I was, but something snapped her out of her shell recently, something changed her but I still don't know why.

    I knocked on her front door and her dad answered. 

    “ Hello, Mr.Swan, is Bella ready yet?” I asked. He smiled at me.

    “ Please call me Charlie, and I’m not sure, but you know where her bedroom is.” He chuckled at his daughter's antics in running late, she always was late or tripping over her own two feet. I smiled a very fake smile and nodded. I thanked him and walked upstairs. 

   “Bella? Are you ready?” I said as I opened her door to see her standing in the mirror looking at herself. She turned towards me and nodded. It had been a while since we last spoke. We walked down stairs and said goodbye to her father and headed towards the reservation to hang out with Jacob and the clan. We took her truck since the dirt roads may be muddy because of the consistent rain and my car was not built for being stuck in the mud. It took a while to get there and we made small talk, about half way there I finally asked a question that had been eating me up inside.

   “Have you heard anything from Alice or Edward, any of them even?” She took her eyes off the road and looked at me before returning her gaze back to the road.

   “ No I haven’t, I was going to ask you the same thing. But I take it that you haven’t heard from any of them either. I shake my head no. Once we got to the reservation we hung out with the group of boys that were there, some made snarky comments about Edward and Jasper, I still don’t understand why they don’t like each other. Bella and I had left after a few hours and when I stepped into my room I saw Jasper passing around. He had a worried expression on his pale face.

   “ Jasper?” My voice rang out in disbelief. Why is he here now? Once he heard my voice he turned towards me. 

   “ Y/n Darlin’ I’m sorry for leaving you like that. I’m glad you're okay.” His voice sounded sad and lingered with regret. He continued speaking.

  “ Alice told me what you did and I’m so fucking sorry I had made you feel that way. Please could you find it in your beautiful heart to forgive me.” Jasper was trying to sweet talk me. I walked over and gave him a hug and shook my head yes. Knowing there was nothing that could never make me hate him.

  “ Darlin’ I love you oh so very much and I want you to know that” Tears began to roll down my cheeks and collect into the soft wool of his sweater. We layed in my bed for the rest of the night, It was the least he could do for leaving unannounced.

[wolfpackss]

Second request in a row but this is too cute and I will forget. As I'm snacking on my grapes this morning my 2 toddlers in class(a 1.5 yr old and an almost 2 yr old) are standing there asking "more please" whenever I eat one grape(1 for me then 1 for each of them). It's too stinking cute and I thought I could see Jake with twins asking the pack for bites of their food. 😂😂😂

YES PLEASE 🫣!

I love you

“Jawod, mowe pleese.” You walk into Emily’s living room to see your 18 month old son sitting on his uncle’s lap, waiting for him to feed him more berries. “Momma looks, bewwies!” His twin sister wobbles inside, holding one of Paul’s fingers. Her other tiny hand is holding two small berries, squished berries with how tightly she’s gripping on to them. You hear the door open and close as your husband walks in from Patrol. “Dada!” The twins run towards Jacob as he kneels down and picks them both up. “Hello my loves!” Jacob kisses both their cheeks and cuddles them close. Our daughter pulls away from him and shoved her hand in front of his face. “Look dada, bewwies!” Jacob nods with a big smile on his face. “I see that princess, did uncle Paul give you those?” He rubs her tiny cheek with his palm and she smiles at him as she nods her head, her tiny pigtails on the top bouncing with her movements. You walk over towards Jacob and your daughter and lean up to kiss your husbands cheek. “Missed you” you mumble against his skin. “Momma nooooooo, my dada!” Your daughter launches herself towards her father as he catches her skillfully in his arms. “Yes baby, your dada.” I run my fingers over her forehead, brushing away some hairs that got loose from her pigtails. You look over to where your son is pressed up against his uncle Jared’s chest as they count the berries that are still in his bowl.

Later that night as you are all sitting down for dinner, the twins in their high seats, your son of course next to his super hero uncles as your daughter never lets go of her daddy’s hand. “Mowe pleese.” Your son grins at his uncles at the sight of the beans on Paul’s plate. “You are seriously Jacob’s mini.” Jared ruffles your son’s hair and puts more beans in front of him. “Come on princess, daddy has to eat too.” You try to wriggle her little hand out of Jacob’s hand with no success, she’s gripping it tightly, afraid if she lets go he’ll disappear. “I’m okay babe, I’ll manage” Jacob kisses the side of your head and tries to eat with the hand that’s not in a death grip.

“Dadaaaaa, mommaaaaaa” two little voices can be heard in the middle of the night screaming for you and your husband who is curled up beside you in bed. He lets out a groan as the twins continue to cry. “I’ll go babe, you go back to sleep” he softly kisses your forehead, rubs the sleep out of his eyes and gets out of bed. He shuffles towards the twins’s room, walks in and puts on the light. Your son is standing in his crib, glaring at the closet door as your daughter sniffles behind her blanket, clutching her teddy bear. “What’s wrong?” Jacob sits down near your son and rubs his head. Your daughter crawling over closer to her dad so she can hold his hand. “Montah” your son point towards the closet and wildly shakes his head. “A monster? Oh no! I’ll get the monster spray and we’ll scare the monsters away together ,kay?” Jacob walks to the closet to get the “monster” spray, which just contained water and puts it on the floor. He gets the twins out of bed and slowly walks them over towards the closet. Four little hands grip the bottle as Jacob opens the closet door. The entire bottle gets sprayed into the closet and the twins are squealing with glee. “kay, the monster is gone, now it’s time for sleep, yeah?” Jacob puts the twins into their cribs and kisses their foreheads. “Goodnight my loves” he smiles as he walks to the door.

“Dada?” Your son looks up at his dad,

“Mowe pleese…” and point to his forehead.

[lupinblacktheone]

First times chapter 1 - Freshmen

Hello, friends! This is the first chapter of my fic "First times" for the @newsiesminibang24

I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you will enjoy it as well! The artist was @cowboy-caboodles. Check out his amazing art here:

Read it in AO3!

 “And… there”, said Mr. Jacobs, placing the last box on the wooden floor.

         “Thanks, dad.”

         “Have you got everything you need, honey?”, Mrs. Jacobs asked, looking around the room.

         “Let me see… books, clothes, computer, sheets, extra sheets, snack money…”, the young man rubbed his forehead, making his father giggle. “Oh, yeah. Can I have an extra hug?”

         The woman wrapped her son in a bear hug and kissed his cheek. “Take care.”

         “I will.”

         “Can we visit Sarah now, mom?”, Les begged, pulling on the woman’s skirt. 

         After one more hug and kiss, Esther allowed Meyer to bid their son goodbye.

         “If you need anything, just call us, ok?”

         “Alright, dad.”

         As the family left the room, David turned around to start unpacking his clothes. Halfway through the second box, he heard his mother’s voice again.

         “Medda, darling!”

         He rushed to the door, just in time to see her kissing the cheek of the theater star Medda Larkin. Of course renowned journalists and authors Esther and Meyer Jacobs would treat her as an old friend.

Maybe they really are friends, David shrugged. They had reviewed all of her shows, after all.

“Come here, honey”, Esther waved at him. “I want to introduce you.”

Long ago, David had learned to hide his shyness in front of his parents’ acquaintances, posing as the erudite, well-behaved, happy-not-to-be-noticed middle child. And he was glad to play that role, because it allowed Sarah to take on the intellectual discussions and Les to be the life of the room.

This time, the boy wasn’t interested in charming Miss Medda. He’d rather make someone behind the adults burst into laughter instead.  David looked past his mother’s shoulder to find his little brother telling jokes to a young man around David’s age — probably a freshman as well —, his hair covered by a vintage cap and dressed in a blue button-up shirt.

“Well, if you’ll excuse us, we have to pay a visit to our daughter”, said Meyer.

“Send Sarah my regards”, she waved

Of course Medda Larkin knows Sarah, David laughed to himself.

The house where Sarah lived with two other girls was a fifteen-minute drive away from David’s dorm. As soon as Sarah noticed them getting out of the car, she put a box on the floor and jumped into her father’s arms.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? The place is a mess.”

“How could we not come? Today’s David’s moving day”, Esther kissed Sarah’s cheeks.

“That’s the famous David Jacobs?”, said one of Sarah’s roommates, with bright brown hair.

“The one and only”, he showed her a tiny smile as they shook hands.

“We’ll be throwing a party this weekend. Wanna come?”

“I appreciate it, but I have a lot of things to unpack.”

“C’mon, little bro”, Sarah jokingly slapped David’s arm. “I can come over and help you. And besides, parties are mandatory credits for freshmen. Did you know that?”

“Who are you and what have you done to my sister?”, they laughed. “You used to be daddy’s little princess.”

“And you still are momma’s precious boy, I see.”

“Knock it off, you two”, Les demanded, pushing David so he could hug Sarah.

“She’s right, you know”, Meyer whispered in David's ear. “Not about the credits, of course, but socializing at this stage is very important.”

“Dad…”

“I just want to make sure you are well-adjusted to this whole thing.”

“Fine. If that will make you feel better, I can come to the party.”

“That’s my boy.”

With the rest of the family gone, Sarah drove David back to his dorm, advising him to lose the tweed vest to the party.

“Nobody will want to be your friend if you look like a professor.”

“Thank you”, he grunted, forcing the door open. “For the ride and the advice.”

“Anytime”, she winked at him and drove off.

He walked into the building as fast as he could, trying —and failing, to a certain degree — to avoid the annoying drizzle. He climbed the stairs back to his room.

“I have already picked out my bed”, a male voice announced before David could acknowledge his owner.

It was the young man who laughed at Les’ jokes earlier. He had hung his cap and changed the blue shirt for a pair of — apparently very soft — gray pajamas. They met in the middle of the room to shake hands.

“The name is Jack Kelly”, said he, pocketing his hands.

“David Jacobs.”

“Oh, so you are Les’ brother?”

From Sarah’s brother to Les’ brother. What an upgrade.

“I have never done this before. What do we do now?”

“I think we are supposed to become best friends by default.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

“So, soon-to-be-best-friend, do you have any plans for the weekend?”, David asked.

Jack’s shoulders went down. “Probably write emails to my friends and draw a little. I’m a bit rusty.”

“I know a place where you’ll find a ton of references.”

Jack showed him a large smile.

“I’ll take my new pencils.”

David sent Sarah a text, just to let her know he had invited his roommate to her party, without giving his brain the time necessary for it to reflect on what was happening.

For the rest of the night, the boys sat in a comfortable silence, with David arranging more of his belongings and Jack sketching — to warm up the muscles for the art classes.

***

“Hey”, Jack said the next morning.

David’s response was a long, heart-felt yawn and a nod.

Jack put on his favorite blue shirt and a pair of jeans. All of his art materials for the day were packed — he even remembered to include some personal favorites along with the recommended list of brushes and paint. Medda had given him a debit card so he could get more supplies and snacks anytime he wanted.

This was his first official day at college and he wouldn’t let anything ruin it, not even a cranky roommate.

As soon as classes started that day, the notice boards of the dorms were flooded by colorful posters inviting freshmen to participate in the most ordinary or exquisite extra-curricular activities, clubs and teams or to join fraternities and sororities. Others, more discreet, announced part-time jobs at restaurants and shops nearby. Jack stopped by it, just to take a look — or so he said. Maybe something interesting would pop up.

“Do you mind giving me a hand?”, said a boy, holding a box full of pamphlets.

“Sure.”

Once he freed himself of that burden,  the boy attached another notice to the board: an invitation for the rugby trials.

“You can take one if you want”, he said, taking the box back. “It’ll be next Wednesday.”

“Thanks”, Jack grabbed a bright red piece of paper.

“I’m Race, by the way.”

“Jack.”

“See ya ‘round”, he waved and walked out of the building.”  

Despite not being late to his first period — art history, what a cliché —, Jack felt the weight of sixty eyes staring him down as he walked by the desks trying to find a free spot. A pink-haired girl dragged some of her stuff, clearing space for him to sit by her side — and protecting her drawing from potential “art thieves” (her words, not mine) in the process.

Everybody around him seemed so… creative and busy. It was almost like he could hear these people’s minds working to create this century’s Starry Night and Jack had nothing more than a few drafts in his sketchbook.

“You are capable of great things”, Medda used to say. “But remember to always run your own race.”

Medda had given Jack all kinds of advice — both as a parent and as an artist —, but that one had always stood out in Jack's brain. Maybe that was because if the world around him was a race, he was definitely losing.

The professor entered the room and the focused students immediately turned their eyes to the white board. Seventeen minutes into the lecture and he had already lost half of his listeners. Most of them were texting, the phones hidden under their desks, like in High School.

When the girl by Jack’s side started to doodle on her notebook — and she was doing a pretty good job on that beach landscape! —, he shook his head, in an effort to regain concentration. Medda worked very hard to find a school with an art program that suited him — not to mention she was paying for his tuition. He would not let her down. He took a deep breath, counted to five, let all the air out through his mouth and grabbed a pencil. Not to draw, but to take notes.

Ninety minutes later, Jack left the room, slightly proud of himself for having sat through such a long class — he would mention it in his next email to Medda, for sure. Now he was on his way to a more “artsy” class, at the carpentry workshop.

With a sigh, the professor told every student to take protection equipment from the locker at the back of the room as soon as they entered. Then, she proceeded to read the syllabus with her monotonous voice. The first project was going to be a medium decorative sculpture. They weren’t going to use the saw yet, but there were sharp tools involved, so they ought to be careful anyways.

Attached to the syllabus, there was a list of forbidden sculptures — tables, shelves, squares and any other kind of simple shape and so on and so forth for two and a half pages.

Jack turned his head to the left, getting a view of the front patio through the window. There had to be a loophole on this list he could explore. He just needed some help to find it.

The bell finally rang, prompting the students to return the equipment to their respective boxes and flee the premises. Jack’s stomach growled as he reached the cement path.

He had a free period before lunch was served, so he bought a snack — a bag of chips and a bottle of lemon juice, his favorites — and headed to the dorm, with the hope that he would have the place to himself.

But well, he was wrong. David was hunched over his desk, typing as if the wooden floor was about to open and shallow him.

 “How’s it going?”, Jack asked, letting the heavy backpack fall on the bed with a muffled sound.

“One day into this and I am already screwed.”, he rubbed his forehead and took a glance at the blank document he should be working on. “You?”

“I am thinking about dropping out”, David stared at him, his eyes wide open. “Relax, it’s just Carpentry.”

They stayed there, in an awkward silence trying to figure out how to kill that piece of free time.

“If you had to write an essay about a historical period, what time would you choose?”, David got Jack’s attention.

“Something easy, like the eighties or the nineties”, Jack approached the desk to read the text on the computer screen. The professor wanted the students to do some broad research — focusing on wherever they found interesting or important — and then, write a news article about it. “Or maybe the seventies. Then, you can write about the hippie movement and its impacts in modern society.”

“I liked your first idea better. I can dissect the millennial lifestyle. Maybe interview some people.” 

Then Jack decided to work on a portrait of Medda, based on a picture taken on the day he graduated from High School. It would make a good Christmas present when finished.

She started acting when she was seventeen, so all the changes time imposed on her were registered somewhere. At thirty-five, when she became Jack’s foster parent, she didn’t look like the star-strucking beauty she once was, but she was gorgeous, for sure. Now, ten years later, she was considered a maternal figure by pretty much everyone who laid eyes on her. However, he still found it difficult to represent her kind and soft gaze.

“Who is she?”, David said, over Jack’s shoulder.

“My mom.”

“That looks awesome, man. Do you take commissions?” 

I do now, Jack thought, nodding.

“Great. Can you paint a picture of my family? They would love it”, he started scrolling through his phone’s gallery. “This one is good. Can you do it?”

Jack studied the image. It showed a happy couple with their three smiley children in front of their double-deck house. He recognized the younger versions of David and Les, along with a girl — perhaps one or two years older than David.

“ I charge fifteen bucks per person plus ten dollars if the background is complex. So that adds up to…”, he pressed buttons on his phone’s calculator. “Eighty-five bucks.”

“Is it okay if I give you fifty bucks now and…”

“The rest when it’s done?”, Jack raised an eyebrow. “Fine, but only because I know where you sleep”, he laughed.

This guy has got a weird sense of humor, David thought, transferring him the money. 

“It is a pleasure to make business with you, good sir.”

***

“We should get going”, David announced on Friday night.

In twenty minutes, they were ready to go to Sarah’s party. Despite the chilly wind, they decided to walk there and take a look around the campus. They passed by fraternity houses and dorm buildings where blaring music could be heard through closed windows and people were already wasted.

He is hating this, David thought as Jack walked silently by his side. He’ll go back to the dorm and never talk to me again.

Jack didn’t. He just kept kicking pebbles along the sidewalk. Around his head, the world was covered by a dark blue cloth as the moon got up from behind the clouds.

Sarah’s house was the block’s church mouse when they got there. David walked ahead of Jack to ring the doorbell.

“Coming!”, an unknown voice announced. The girl took a glance at David before shouting louder: “Your brother’s here!”

“Thanks, Kath”, the girl seemed to have appeared out of thin air. “Evening, boys.”

She hugged David and extended a hand to Jack.

“I’m Jack, the roommate”, he said, shaking her hand politely.

“I’m Sarah, the sister. C’mon, the guys want to meet you.”

In the neatly-decorated living room, two boys were sitting in front of the TV, playing Mario Kart. On the other side of the room, three girls are discussing a book over cups of coffee. Sarah got a hold of David’s arm and dragged him through the little groups. Jack approached the snack table to have some soda.

“Can you fill this up, please?”

Jack filled a cup with lemon soda up to the top and gave it back to the boy who was leaning on the wall next to him.

“Thanks”, he drank a big gulp and burped. “S-sorry. I’m thirsty.”

“Oh, hi, Thirsty. I’m Jack.”

“That was terrible”, he chuckled.

“What? You almost spilled your drink!”

“That’s because I have weak nerd arms”, he flexed his left arm. “My name is Charlie, but everyone calls me Crutchie.”

Before Jack could open his mouth again, the boy showed him the crutch under his right armpit.

“So, how did you sneak in?”, Crutchie grinned. “The window?”

“Nah, Sarah’s brother invited me.”

“Which one is he?”, Crutchie fixed his posture to look around.

“The one with the black pants over there.”

“Hmmm… your boyfriend is pretty.”

“Not my boyfriend. Roommate.”

Someone turned some jazz music on with a loud giggle.

“C’mon, Jane. This isn’t a café!”, Crutchie said. 

“But it looks like one”, a girl replied.

All eyes in the room had turned to the argument going on, except for David’s. He was way too focused on his own conversation to care about people around him. He didn’t even seem to notice that the girls near him had basically turned their backs on him to participate in the “Jane vs. Crutchie” thing.

His hands had stopped mid-air, drawing visual aids for a story Jack couldn’t hear. Something in the scene reminded him of the Vitruvian man he had seen a thousand times in Arts classrooms.

He grabbed the sketchbook and pencil in his pocket and drew a circle. He could draw a basic face with his eyes closed, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t have trouble getting the hands right.

***

Sarah’s friends were very interesting, David noticed as she introduced him to each one of them. Especially the girl who opened the door.  Her name was Katherine and she was more than happy to follow Sarah around. Actually, it seemed that both girls were satisfied with the arrangement, because  every few minutes, Sarah would interrupt the conversation to look for Katherine.

Their other roommate turned some music on while people sat down to eat pizza and drink soda. David watched as Jack helped a boy fill his plate with mini pizza slices.

“You can ask”, Sarah placed a hand on David’s shoulder. “But don’t stare. That is rude.”

 Only then, David noticed the crutch on which the right side of the boy’s body leaned. It wasn’t thicker than a twig and was almost invisible against the yellow wallpaper. And his wide jeans covered any defects his leg could have.

Now Jack, with that button-up shirt he loved so much, was as bright as the Sun. Their conversation was inaudible from across the room, but Jack was smiling a lot — David liked to see him smiling, because that Carpentry project was gradually sucking his soul away.

  Speaking of assignments, David had his own problem to solve: a short story with tridimensional characters and a man vs. society and a man vs. self conflicts. That on top of all the other homework he had to do made his brain twirl. He knew he could make it, but he also wanted to run back to his dorm and type his fingers out.

Stop, take a deep breath and take a look around, was Esther’s advice every time her children had trouble writing. Maybe the universe has got a clue for you.

“So, Debra has quit for real this time?”, Sarah asked Katherine.

“Yeah. She got that position she was hoping for.”

“So you need a new assistant.”

“Correct.”

“You know, my little bro here studies journalism too. And he would love to join the newspaper.” 

“I see…”, Katherine looked at David with a raised eyebrow. “You start on Monday. Thanks, love”, she turned around to kiss Sarah’s cheek.

“Anything for you, dear.”

Sarah finally let go of David’s arm, just to grab Katherine’s waist and walk away. In a millisecond, David crossed the room and sat by Jack’s side, ready to whisper at his ear:

“I’m in.”

“The newspaper?”, David nodded with a huge smile. “That’s great, Davey.”

Davey. No one had ever thought of calling him that way. And when the word came out of Jack’s lips, it sounded like a brand-new symphony.

“C’mon, let’s celebrate”,  Jack offered him a hand.

“I thought you wanted to draw!”

“I have enough sketches for three months now.”

 They put their coats on and got out the door. Jack held it open to David by instinct.

“Why, thank you”, David smiled at him. “You are a true gentleman.”

“Mom taught me well.”

Again, they walked in silence to the empty bus stop. Around them, parties were still going on — and with no end in sight.

“I know a place that sells great coffee. They call it ‘secret blend’ or something”, Jack said, getting on the bus.

“Lead the way, then.”

They passed by the college campus and entered the city neighborhood — which was inhabited mostly by students nevertheless. The apartment buildings were not too high. It was like a toddler had placed some toy construction blocks in groups of four with strip malls under them here and there.

Cheap burger and coffee shops raised to the sky, their green spotlights bashing the sidewalks and streets. They stopped in front of an obscure shop, with a half-lit sign that said “Dale’s” in blue neon calligraphy. This time, David opened the door, which earned him a smile from Jack.

The place wasn’t busy, so they grabbed a seat near the window and waited for someone to bring them the menu. A girl their age — her name was Patricia, according to the little tag on her shirt — welcomed them to Dale’s Coffee Shop, the most trendy place in town and the unofficial home of the Gray Tigers.

 “I should start calling myself an unofficial member of the Gray Tigers”, Jack pondered as the waitress left. “At least, it sounds good”, he looked so determined saying that. Not to mention he had been training and talking about it non-stop ever since he met Racetrack. 

Jack ordered an espresso with one cream and five sugars and David asked for a vanilla cold brew. While waiting, the boys observed the movement on the street.

“I almost forgot”, David said, watching as an old man carried a seemingly heavy wooden box. “How is your Carpentry project?”

“I still have no idea what to do about that”, Jack sighed. “We are not allowed to use simple shapes or saws, so what can we do? I hate this class so much I can’t come up with a single thing.”

“You could take two square pieces, sandpaper them on the top and sides, nail them together and paint it red. Boom! You have a heart.”

“Thanks”, Jack gave him a shy smile. “Actually, do you mind if I use your idea?”

“Yeah. Happy to help.”

David’s mind once again wondered about the short story he had to write. The only thing he knew was that he wanted to discuss the desires and agonies of a young artist’s heart.

“Hey, Jack”, the boy looked up from his phone. “I have a tricky assignment to do. 

“And what is that?”

“A short story.” 

“That should be no trouble for you, a freshman and already a member of the university newspaper.”

 “The thing is: it has to meet some weird requirements and I was thinking I could use you as an inspiration for my main character?”

“Yeah. Just don’t give the poor guy an overly tragic death, ok?”

David nodded as a cup was placed in front of him. Jack was served immediately after and then, his world could be summarized to that slightly stained, chipped porcelain cup.

“You should at least try your drink”, David suggested. “It will get cold.”

“Oh”, Jack shook his head, now passing his gaze to David. He had a gulp of his coffee, perfectly made, as Race said it would be. “Do you have a plot for the story?”

“Kinda. I know what I want to explore, I just don’t know how.”

“Tell me about it. That might help.”

As David recited the concepts he had in mind, Jack noticed how his elbows leaned against the plywood table.

I wonder if he’ll think it’s rude if I do a quick sketch.

“What are you drawing?”

“It’s… hum… your character”, he finished the hair, parted in the middle, like David said. “See?”

“Wow!”, he stared at the small page. “It looks great! I love what you did with his hair.”

“You can use it to illustrate your story if you want.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’ll give me an excuse to use the graphics tablet my mom’s friend got me.”

“Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it”, Jack wiped the air in front of him.

“Sorry guys, but I need you to leave”, the waitress approached them, followed by a tall, bald man (probably her manager). “We are about to close.”

“Oh, ok. Sorry”, said Jack, getting up. “How much do we owe you?”

Jack insisted on paying for the whole bill — he also left a generous tip. After all, he was the one who did the inviting.

“After you, good sir”, David held the door open.

“Aren’t they the cutest?”, the guy whispered  at the girl’s ear a second before the door was closed.

“I know, right?”

[anime-kia]

Lust and Temptation

I know I said that I was on my writing hiatus, but a wave of inspiration hit me. I was in my room jamming to some Kirk Franklin when the idea came to me. Yes you can turn up to gospel, don't @ me. 

This is going to be a religious fanfic (with a bit of blasphemy), if you're not Christian and/or don't believe in God you can still read this story, BUT! Do not leave any comments that would be disrespectful to my beliefs. If you do leave anything disrespectful: Delete and mute :) You are not obligated to read this story, it's your choice. 

And also I'm gonna dive a little more further, beyond what is openly taught. The worldly doctrine as it is called because I'm sure Erik would be that type of guy.

~ Post Black Panther ~

Warnings: Smut (takes a while for it to happen btw), Angst (a bit), A tad of deep stuff (religion wise)

Relationship: Erik x Christian Reader

Sunday morning, you dreaded it as a child, but now it was a lot more tolerable. It was the same thing every week; wake up at ten, use the bathroom, shower, brush your teeth, eat breakfast, get dressed into your Sunday best and head out to church to catch the twelve o'clock service. 

As a child your routine was fairly the same, except you had to wake up much earlier and attend all three services. Why? Because you're the pastors daughter. The only thing you genuinely enjoyed about church was the singing. You always had the ability to sing, but you were too young to join the choir. You loved the Lord with all your heart too, but you hated sitting down for hours listening to your father preach. He had a nice voice, but you could only listen to the same thing for so long. 

The memories of your mother scolding you for fidgeting too much or asking to leave early made a smile grace your face as you drove down the relatively and empty highway. 

It was warm out, and knowing that, the A/C would be blasting so you decided to wear a long sleeve cream coloured blouse that was tucked inside of a long black body con maxi skirt (appropriate enough for church) and black stilettos. You paired the outfit with gold accessories and light makeup.

One of the perks of being the pastors daughter included getting close parking, and you always took your spot on the right side of your father's white Lexus RX. Locking your car door, you made your way to the front doors being held by two young boys that you teach after the singing is completed. 

"Good afternoon, Miss (Y/N)." They both said in unison. 

"Good afternoon boys, how was your vacation?" They were away for two weeks, you remember how happy they were when they told you they'd be traveling out of the country for the first time.

"So fun!" The shorter one missing his two front teeth, Anthony, enthused.

"Yeah, we got to swim in the ocean!" Jacob matched his brother's excitement. 

"Oh really? That's so cool!" 

You allowed them to chat your ears off about their vacation to the Bahamas while they continued to hold the doors. Anthony was about to tell you about the shark he saw until your mother spotted you. 

"Hey, baby. How are you?" The familiar scent of Estée Lauder whiffed through your nose as she pulled you into a hug. 

"Hi Mom, I'm good." You waved to the boys as you walked with her towards the nave, "How's dad?" You greeted the church brothers and sisters who were setting up the equipment and rehearsing before the service started.

"The same, of course." She rolled her eyes and you chuckled.

"There's my star! Come here." Your father came down the stage and gave you a bear hug. 

"Hey, Dad." Your voice was muffled into his shoulder. You took the handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiped his shiny forehead. "You're sweating." You said and placed it back into the pocket.

"It's a great service. Speaking of which, why did you stop coming to all three? We could really use your voice for all of em. Sister Eva is great, but you know how to get the crowd going."

You thanked him, and avoided answering the question truthfully. 

"(Y/n), let's get you set up." One of the technicians pulled you to the stage and gave you your usual equipment for singing. 

There were about ten minutes before the service was going to start so you quickly rehersed with the band and before you knew it people started filling into the space. Familiar members of the church gathered in, sliding into the seats and making room for others. You spotted a few of your church friends and gave them a little wave.

They would often tease you for being a good girl. The pastor's daughter usually got a bad rep. Them being the ones to do it all; sex, drugs, smoking, tattoos, etc. But you never found the need to do any of that. The only "rebellious" thing you've done was get your nose pierced. Your dad hated it (and he still does), but your mother was a lot more lenient. 

"Good afternoon everyone." You greeted the congregation with a smile, and they replied with a drowsy response. "I said good afternoon, everyone!" You had more enthusiasm in your voice this time, and they also did. "Much better. Now has God been good to you?"

"Yes!"

"And has he provided for you? Loved you unconditionally?"

"Yes!"

"He is great, ain't He?"

"Amen!" Cheers and applauds sounded the room.

"Yes, amen. Now I wanted to start off with an upbeat song. Let's get everyone up on your feet and clap your hands like this."

The congregation stood to their feet and followed your pace of claps. The band started playing their version of Kirk Franklin's, Looking For You. You allowed them to play the intro and then you and the choir joined in.

I've been down so long

I've been hurt for so long

There were times I thought I'd never see the break of day

It was hard for me to see your plan for me

And I tried to believe surely it won't last always

You enjoyed seeing everyone getting in tune with their souls through the music, parents were dancing with babies and children on their hips, little kids were jumping up and down. This was the best song to get everyone moving and ready to celebrate their love for the Lord. It almost caught you off guard when you noticed someone was still seated, it was hard to see him clearly because he was in the far back, but you knew that this was his first time coming to this church. He had a very distinct look, dreads, and a large frame. You thought maybe he was just one of those people who stopped by to hear a few words then leave, but he was dressed in his Sunday best, just like everyone else. He also looked like he had full intentions to stay.

You continued to sing your heart out, hyping the crowd up with reminders of why God is so good, and them replying amen. You danced and let the music flow through your body. Yup, this was the best thing about church.

Your voice was warm and welcoming, your energy was refreshing, your beauty was tranquilizing to him and he wanted to get to know you. He had the right intentions coming into the building, but seeing you lit a spark in him that he tried to suppress. 

The song came to an end, and he hadn't realized. The thunders of applauds and praises pulled him out of his trance, and he soon joined in. 

"Amen. You know what my favourite part about church is? The singing, not only because God blessed me with this voice, but because it touches my soul. Psalms 95:1 says 'Come, let us sing for joy to the LORD; let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation'." 

"Amen!"

"Glory be to God, and we lift our hands to you. We sing our praises to you! Every praise, is to you oh Lord." That was the cue for the band to get into the next song, Every Praise. You once again set the tempo for the sways and the congregation followed. 

Every praise is to our God

Every word of worship with one accord

Every praise every praise is to our God

Sing hallelujah to our God

Glory hallelujah is due our God

Every praise every praise is to our God

He decided to sit still, but tapped his feet to the beat of the song, his hands folded in his lap. He was so enamoured by you, that he hadn't noticed when a little girl rested her hands onto his knee. He looked down at the brown skinned baby, no older than two he assumed. She had two little puffs secured with bow clips, and a pink and white dress with matching shoes. She pushed herself off of his knee and smiled at him, her little hand waving to him. He smiled at her until she was pulled away.

"Sorry about that." A younger looking lady said, "My baby likes to meet everyone." She was a beautiful lady with dark skin, coily tresses fixed into a puff and pearly white teeth. 

"No problem." He simply replied with the same smile he gave the little girl. 

When she returned to her spot, which was only a seat away from him, he noticed that she wasn't with a man. He predicted that she was a young single mother, and he could tell she was somewhat stressed out. His training gave him the ability to read people with ease, and his past self had a knack for "fixing" stressed out women. He was so close to getting out of his seat and reverting back to his old ways, but that was why he was here in the first place so he decided to stay seated and listen to your voice.

"I have another verse for y'all. Ephesians 5:19, 'Speaking to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit. Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord'." You recited. "I have one more song before I let my father take over. This one always gets me emotional." The band once again started up with a softer melody. "Everyone just lift your hearts and voices as you sing with me."

The graceful rhythm of Healer flowed through the room and everyone calmed down, getting in tune with themselves and their saviour, you included.

You hold my every moment 

You calm my raging seas 

You walk with me through fireand heal all my disease 

You closed your eyes while singing, swaying to the beat. The choir handled majority of the song while you let it resonate in your heart. You could feel tears welling into your eyes.

Nothing is impossible for You

Nothing is impossible

Nothing is impossible for You

You hold my world in Your hands

He could feel the depth in your voice, the emotion wrapped around him, he was almost driven to tears. He had never seen anything so beautiful, so dedicated, so pure and loving. Your voice was more than enough proof for him. He was a sinner and he knew he would corrupt you, but you were like a lure, pulling him in.

"Amen!" Your voice called out, as the song came to a close. He was surprised that your voice sounded so normal, not a crack present. Had you not said anything, anyone would've been convinced that you were crying, but your voice had masked that very well. "Thank you everyone, thank you." Applauds filled the room, he was surprised to find himself clapping as well. You walked off the stage, your father giving you another hug just before you got to your seat.

"Amen indeed," He began. "My daughter everyone!" He clapped and the congregation joined in again. You smiled as your mother kissed your temple, stating how beautiful you sounded. It always felt good, not the applauds and recognition from everyone, but being able to use your talent to praise God and to be able to allow people to do the same whether they could sing or not.

Today's lesson was about forgiveness and acceptance. 

"Now I want y'all to think. And think real good." Your father eyed the crowd, "Are y'all holding a grudge against someone?"

Some folks shook their heads, others remained silent. He was one of them who remained silent.

"Why? Maybe they've wronged you, hurt you, lied on you, stole from you. But you know what, you know who doesn't hold a grudge... The Father. In fact, He loves you all so much that He sent His only son to die on the cross for all of our sins. Imagine that." 

He listened carefully to the pastors words, taking in everything like a sponge. You on the other hand had this speech given to you a thousand times, you could probably teach this lesson if you wanted to. Holding grudges was not natural to you, so you never did. You always forgave and forgot, no matter the circumstance. 

Usually you were sent off to teach the younger kids their own lesson, but another one of the members allowed you to take this Sunday off and took your place instead.

The lesson continued for an hour and church had finally started coming to it's end.

"I would like to close this off with a prayer before you all leave. Anyone who needs a special prayer is more than welcome to stay behind. Please join your hands together as we say this prayer."

He was hesitant to hold hands with any stranger, but an old lady (with a surprisingly strong grip) to his left and the single mother to his right held his hands and already had their heads bowed. He followed suit and listened to the prayer that the pastor had recited.

"I pray you all have a blessed week, and we'll see you again next Sunday."

You were required to stay behind, not that you minded, but you were apart of the church crew. Leaving so soon would seem inappropriate. 

A few people made their way down to the front to receive an extra prayer, he was going to leave, but he saw you standing off to the side waiting for anyone to come by. 

Of course he wasn't nervous to greet you, women were so easy when it came to him.

"Bye, Sister Mary. See you next Sunday." You waved to the older lady as she made her way out, smiling at him as he made his way over to you. 

He stood in front of you, towering over you.

"Hello." You greeted him. This was the same man you saw seated when you first opened the service. 

"Hey." He replied with a smirk.

"What's your name, stranger?"

"Erik."

"I'm (y/n), nice to meet you. I don't think I've ever seen you in this church before."

"Nah, I'm new. It's actually my first day here."

"Oh lovely, so I guess you're going to be joining us from now on?"

He was very hesitant to reply and you had already figured out he was one of the lost as our father would describe them. People trying to find God again after hardship. He did look quite rough on the edges, handsome though.

"That's alright, but I do hope you consider. Now what type of blessings are you in need of today?"

"I'm looking for peace." His voice was very gentle as he explained.

You held your hands out to Erik, "Aren't we all." You smiled at him as he placed his calloused hands into yours. This alone told you he's been through more than you could ever imagine. You began to pray for him, asking God to bring peace and security to his heart. 

Like your singing, there was so much passion and sincerity in every word you spoke. He found it strange that someone he'd never met before could actually lend out their time to wish him all the best through the form of prayer. It was odd, the feeling in his heart was warm. Not something he was use to.

"Erik?" He was staring so deeply at you, it was like he was in a trance. "Erik?" You called again. 

He hadn't realized when you stopped praying, "Oh shi- I mean shoot. Sorry." He let go of your hands as he apologized.

You gave him a sympathetic smile, "It's all good."

He was at a loss for words, all he could say was, "Thanks for this."

"Of course, I'm here every Sunday. I hope to see you again."

"Yeah."

Next Sunday rolled around and you were a lot more excited this time. You really hoped that Erik would be there. On the highway you exceeded the speed limit just a little bit to get to church faster. You parked your car and got into the church, this time no one was holding the door as you were a lot earlier. 

Everything followed suit as usual, you sing, your father preaches and closing prayer. You had spotted Erik while singing, this time he was standing up and clapping. It was a good start, he'd get to singing eventually.

This week he had asked you to pray for healing and restoration in his heart. Before leaving, you gave him a hug and you were quite surprised when your palm touched his back. You felt ridges, lot's of them. You wanted to ask him about them, but it would probably be rude. Maybe he had a skin condition.

The following Sunday was also the same, but this time he had asked you to pray for guidance. You knew he was lost, and you were more than happy to help. You didn't know, however, about the burden he was carrying, nor did you try to pry into that. After the prayer he thanked you.

Suddenly your mother and father came over to greet you both.

"Hey Mom, Dad. This is Erik."

"Lovely to meet you, Erik." Your mother shook his hand.

"Welcome to the church. You must be new." Your father also shook his hand.

"Yeah, it's his third time here." He nodded as you spoke for him.

"Glad to have a new member." He patted Erik on the shoulder. "(Y/n), are you coming over for dinner tonight?"

"Yes, I just gotta grab something at my place and I'll see you there."

"Alright, we're heading out now. Drive safe. Once again, nice to meet you Erik." Your parents waved to you both as they left the church.

You sighed, "I hate closing up this place, it's so eerie in the dark."

"For real?"

"Yup."

"The Lord's house?"

"Yes, Erik."

"How God suppose to give you bad vibes?"

"He doesn't, it's just my mind running rampant... Plus, this church is really old."

"Aight, I can stay and protect you just in case." He joked.

You rolled your eyes and agreed anyway. "I gotta do the basement first."

So he followed you down to where the bathrooms and meeting rooms were located.

"I guess I could give you a little t-" You turned around, but he wasn't there. "Erik?!" You called out. "Erik, come on this ain't funny." The light shut off and you were alone in the dark. You screamed when you felt a hand land on your shoulder. You slapped the hand away and the lights came back on revealing a laughing Erik. "So. Not. Funny."

"I'm sorry." He continued to laugh.

Two months had passed and this Sunday followed the same, but when closing prayer rolled around Erik had prayed for a date.

"What do you mean a date?" You giggled at his request. "I'm gonna need you to be more specific." 

"Exactly that, a date. With you."

You were taken aback by his statement, but then smiled. "What will this date consist of?"

"Anything you want."

One thing you learned about Erik with knowing so little about him was his bold and cocky demeanour.

"Alright... Hmm..." You thought of how you would play along with his request. "Oh Lord, I pray that Erik takes me somewhere nice, with good food and good music. I also pray that this may not turn out to be a bad experience, in your holy name, amen." 

He loved to see your laugh, "So that's a yes?"

"Yes."

Your parents had left early again and you were subject to Erik's pranks and duty of closing up. After locking the church, he walked you to your car as you entered your number into his phone.

"So I'll pick you up on Friday at six?" 

"Yeah, see you then Erik." He locked your door for you and strode off to his car as you drove away. 

Erik was really hoping that he wouldn't screw anything up. You could be his redemption and he truly felt it. Sure he'd only known you for such a short time, but something about your presence felt so promising to him. 

It was five p.m. and you just got out of the shower when you had called Erik.

"Ya know, you still haven't told me where you're taking me." 

"Don't worry about it, ma."

"But I don't know what to wear."

"Just dress good."

You frowned at the general answer, "That could mean anything. I have good pyjamas, good gym clothes, good church clothes."

You could hear him sigh on the other line, "We're going on a date. Wear something sexy then."

You blushed at his comment, "Wha- Fine."

"Just don't take forever, aight."

"Okay, Erik see you soon."

"Later, princess."

Before you could ask him about his pet name for you, the line went dead.

Your black Persian cat, Minnie, hopped onto your bed and meowed at you. Her name was quite ironic because her fur gave her a large appearance. 

"What's up, Minnie? You hungry?" 

She rolled onto her back and meowed again. 

"Alright, lemme just finish getting ready then I got you, okay." You rubbed her stomach, (luckily she doesn't mind that) and went into your closet looking for the perfect outfit.

Something sexy...

You never thought about dressing "sexy". You didn't have bad style, but you never wore anything to attract attention. Your outfits were mainly business casual or business dressy when you were out. At home, you settled for something comfy.

But remembered your sister taking you shopping when she set you up for all those blind dates. None of the men you met were intriguing in the slightest. They all had their quirks and nicks that were huge turn offs. You weren't stuck up, but you could not see yourself spending the next fifty years with them. Erik though, had something enticing about him. He made you curious.

You decided to go for blind date outfit number two. A high-low dress with a white polyester satin top and royal blue mesh bottoms, silver accessories, light makeup and white stilettos. You slipped into the dress, zipping it up and adjusted the bottom. 

You thought about what food you were going to order as you filled up Minnie's food bowl with wet food, salmon to be exact, her favourite. If he was one of those cheap men, he'd take you to McDonalds. You were told to be grateful in any case, so you would order a combo. But maybe you were lucky enough to be going on a date with someone who has a decent bank account. Maybe he'd take you to a restaurant where you could order pasta or a fancy fish. Maybe a hibachi grill! Those were always a ton of fun to go to. 

Though Erik and you have known each other for two months strictly because of church, you didn't know anything about him. Once again, he never failed to remind you of how mysterious he was. He could be a killer for all you know.

You stroked Minnie's back as she quickly ate her dinner. 

"Maybe I could order the same thing Mom and Dad made me the last time I was over there." They had made grilled steak and potatoes, it was delicious. Your mother was actually a queen on the grill, and your father tagged in with the perfect seasonings. You always ate good with them. While you daydreamed about consuming their cooking, your father's words replayed through your head. 

"I dunno, I feel like I've seen him before. Like he just seems so familiar."

"How so?"

"I'm not sure, the name... Also, when I touched his shoulder I felt these bumps, it reminded me of something, but I'm not so sure."

"Maybe it's a coincidence." 

"Maybe..."

The raps against your door brought you out of your thoughts and you went over to go open it. There Erik stood in a black semi casual suit and black Louis Vuitton loafers.

"Hey, Princess."

"Hey, Erik." You gave him a hug getting a whiff of a cologne that was very subtle, but you already knew it was very expensive. You recall smelling it in a high end store at the mall.

"You smell good." He said. What he was smelling was your body mist from Victoria's Secret, you got it on sale for five dollars.

"Thanks, I should be saying the same to you."

"You look sexy too."

"Ah thanks." You stopped yourself knowing where he was going.

"What, you ain't gonna say the same to me?"

"I mean, I guess you look alright." You teased.

He kissed his teeth and shook his head and you laughed. 

"Bye, Minnie. I'll be back later." You locked the door and latched arms with Erik as he guided you down the steps to his car. "Oh my gosh, this is your ride?" You exclaimed, charmed by the shiny black Corvette.  

"One of." He plainly stated, opening the passengers side for you.

"One of?!"

"Hop in." He ignored your question for clarification. You got in and he locked the door, making his way around to the driver's side. He wasted no time taking off into the night. The sky was shaded with a warm orange colour as the sun began to sink below the Oakland skyline. His music was a lot lower than you had originally expected.

You could faintly hear the tune and lyrics, it was a Biggie Smalls song that you've heard throughout high school. You hummed to the beat of the song until it completely stopped.

"Hey, it was low enough." You frowned at Erik. 

"Why don't you sing for me instead?" His focus was still on the road.

"Well, I usually like to have a beat playing."

"You don't do A Capella?" 

"Only when I'm at home."

"So you ain't tryna sing a lil something for me?" He turned to look at now that he was at a stop light.

"Only if I can get a beat."

"I don't beat box."

You rolled your eyes, "I wasn't asking you to do it. Do you have an aux cord?"

He laughed, "Aux cord?" 

"What's so funny about that?" You narrowed your eyes at him. 

"Just connect it to my bluetooth."

"Oh alright, Mr. Fancy." You held your hands up in a surrender. 

After setting it up, which was surprisingly really fast compared to your car, you chose to play another one of your favourite Kirk Franklin songs, I Smile. 

Today's a new day, but there is no sunshine

Nothing but clouds, and it's dark in my heart

And it feels like a cold night

Today's a new day, but where are my blue skies

Where is the love and the joy that you promised me?

Not even a minute through the song and this man had turned the radio off.

"Erik!" 

"You singing that gospel shit, it ain't even Sunday."

"I'm not a Sunday Christian, I practice it every day of my life."

He laughed, and began driving as the light changed to green. "You're the first."

"What do you mean?" 

"You know, I always thought this religious thing was bullshit."

"Excuse m-"

"Hold on, let me explain." He held his hand up, "You even admitted it just now. Y'all go to church every Sunday, belting your hearts out and praising God. But as soon as it's over, people go back to their sinful ways. Whether it be cheating, lying, stealing, ya get what I'm saying?"

It's true, it has definitely crossed your mind on multiple occasions, and that's why you said what you said. "I do."

"What's the point if you're just gonna go back to being a sinful person?"

"I guess it just gives them some type of security." You didn't exactly know how to answer his question, and you've asked your father the same thing many times, but even he could not come up with the perfect explanation. 

"Anyway, what else you got on your phone?" 

"Mainly just gospel, it really gets me through the day."

"You was just humming to Biggie. I'm sure you got something other than gospel, let me see." He held his palm out for you to place your phone in it. 

"You're driving, focus on the road."

"The light's gonna change, let me see it." He slowed to a stop.

"Fine." You placed the phone into his hands and scanned for songs other than gospel. His sudden laughter made you stare at him, "What's so funny?"

"Clean, clean, clean. All these songs got the little clean icon." He handed you your phone, "Aight, I'm firing you from DJ duty."

"Wooowwww." You rolled your eyes and folded your arms across your chest.

"I got you." He lifted his phone and scrolled through his list, you alerted him when the light turned green and he set his phone back down in the cup holder. "You got this one on ya phone."

T-Pain's, Bartender filled the car and you were a little surprised. You really thought he was gonna chose a song that was loaded with cursing and sexual innuendos. But you didn't have songs like that on your phone. Honestly, you lived for the early 2000s throwback songs and you felt your voice complimented T-Pain's as you sang along.

Erik handled the verses as you sand the pre-hook and the hook. The bass in his car was amazing, you felt as if you were at a live concert seated in front of the speakers. You continued to listen to his early 2000s playlist until he decided to change it up to more recent songs. 

"Please don't play those new artists."

"Artists? They ain't artists, they fuckin' trash. Disgraceful to even call themselves rappers." He scoffed.

"I'm glad you agree, but do you have to swear?"

"Fuck yeah." He set his phone back down and a song you were unfamiliar with filled the car, "Neighbor, Juicy J and Travis Scott." He told you. You knew Travis, his songs were pretty good.

You were bopping to the music, ignoring the little "Shut the fuck up" at the beginning. Erik was vibing to the song as well, bopping his head and doing little dances with his hands. You were enjoying the song until the chorus came. He was looking at you the whole time with a smirk.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck

Your mouth was ajar, watching him recite every single word. He bursted out laughing at your shocked expression. 

"Damn shorty, it ain't that serious." He turned the volume down, "You telling me you've never cussed?"

"No, never."

Your expressions changed, his mouth was now ajar this time. "Never?"

"Never."

"Say, sofa."

You stared at him suspiciously. "Sofa."

"Now say, king."

"King."

"Say it together real fast."

"Sofa k- Really?" You glared at him.

"I tried. Anyway, we're here." He hopped out and came around to the other side to get you.

"This place is beautiful, oh my gosh. I thought you needed to make reservations some months ahead to get in." You gawked at the super high ceiling with crystal chandeliers, the marble walls and floors, and the large gold fountain placed right in the centre. "How'd you do it?"

He simply shrugged.

"You're taking this very lightly. I mean, this is a lot for a first date."

"You don't like it?"

"No, no. I love it, it's just, a lot to take in and you're acting like this is normal."

"It is." He shrugged again.

"What?" You stared at him incredulously. 

A waiter arrived at the table, placing a basket of bread and fancy cheese platter on the table.

"Good evening, can I start you both off with some drinks?" 

"Lemme get your best bottle of Rosé. The whole thing."  

Erik hadn't even looked at the menu and you were searching through it quickly. The waiter had already gone off and you didn't have a chance state that you only wanted a glass of water.

"I don't drink." You told Erik.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't care to."

"You never had a little sip?"

"Nope, never. Just like swearing. Never done it, never will."

"Say sofa-"

"Be quiet." You cut him off and he chuckled.

"Ya know, Jesus turned water into wine. John 2:1-11. The bible ain't against drinking."

"So?"

"So, he wasn't afraid to have fun. We talking about God's son. That man had serious responsibility, but he still did that. You need to loosen up, girl. I ain't asking you to get drunk."

You sighed, and the waiter had returned with a bottle of the Rosé. He poured you a glass and asked if you both needed some time to order, but Erik had already placed his order and yours. 

"Wha- I don't even know what you just ordered." 

"You'll like it, I promise."

Goes to show how often he comes here, maybe with other women too.

"So this is the part where you tell me about yourself." You began.

"Well shit, what do you wanna know?"

"Well first of all, what in the world do you do?"

"I work for a Wakandan outreach centre in Oakland. Helping our people do better with the fucked up system."

"Oh that's pretty cool, it pays well?"

"Well if you're trying to ask how I can afford everything I got, I also work beside the King of Wakanda. His advisor to be exact. So I get my money like that."

You stared at him puzzled, "Huh?" 

He smirked, "I guess you can say I'm royalty. That dude I called King, he's my cousin."

You almost choked on the bread that you just took a bite out of, "WHAT?"

The white people turned around to look at the source of the sound, their noses scrunched up at your vulgar outburst as Erik laughed.

"You know Erik, lying lips are an abomination to the Lord. Proverbs 12:22." 

"Who said I was lying?"

The waiter had come back with two steaming plates that were covered by a cloche. As he raised the silver metal covering, steam smoked out from the sides revealing two plates of alligot and garlic roasted chicken sliced into perfect pieces with truffles and caviar. You've heard of alligot once on a YouTube video, but you hadn't planned on trying it.

You both thanked him as he left you two to finish off your meal.

"So, what do you do?" He used the knife to cut the chicken breast into a smaller piece before putting it into his mouth.

"Well, I'm a full time social worker at a high school and part time singer and youth teacher on Sunday's. But you already knew that." You said while scooping the cheesy potato onto your fork.

"Maybe you could come talk to some of the kids at the centre. Teach em a bit."

"I could, but I'd have to find somewhere in my schedule to fit it."

"We're always open and willing to get more people on our team. Just let me know."

"For sure." 

You both ate in relative silence, only because you were still staring at the rose coloured drink resting to the right side of your plate. Erik had already finished half of his glass. You told him, maybe you'd opt out because surely he can't drink and drive home, but he assured you his alcohol tolerance was very high. It was a little insipid how high it was a matter of fact.

"It won't kill you, just think of it as pink lemonade."

You narrowed your eyes as you brought the glass to your lips, allowing the liquid to enter your mouth.

"Swallow it."

And you did. It actually wasn't as bad as you expected it to be. 

"See, how was that?"

"Not bad." You actually really enjoyed the taste.

The rest of your night consisted of questions and answers, jokes, serious debates on religion, politics and what the hell was going on within the black community, internally and externally. You had downed three glasses of the Rosé without noticing. 

"So, would you date a white girl?" You asked him.

He didn't even spare a second to think, "Nah."

"Why not? Don't black men love them?"

"I mean, they aight. But I need someone who I can really connect with. Mentally, spiritually, emotionally and physically. No white girl can truly understand the struggle, I need me a lady to not only sympathize when I'm crying for one of my brothers murdered unjustly, but to feel exactly what I'm feeling."

"I say that too. Relating is super important in a relationship. There's no way I can be silent just because you don't want to hear about the things we deal with. I use to be friends with this white girl, back in 2016 when police brutality was at a high. She did not have a single care when I was speaking about it, she would find excuses for the police... She really tried to justify their actions. I was appalled."

Erik shook his head, "Damn. But that's to be expected. If it ain't affecting them, why should they give a fuck?" He rhetorically asked.

"I would then ask God, why. Why us? Why black people? Why do we carry the burden and the struggle."

Erik leaned in, intrigued by your question. "Did you find the answer?"

"It's all in the bible. A lot of people miss it, a lot. My father included and it's so sad."

Erik had already asked God the same question. He knew the answer.

"It's all right there, the verses, the scriptures. Everything. You should check out Romans 10:19."

Erik had already started siting the verse, "I will make you envious by those who are not a nation; I will make you angry by a nation that has no understanding." He shook his head, "When you know your true identity, you become unstoppable."

You stared at him in shock, "You know?"

"We're a lot alike, (y/n). Trust me, I've asked that question countless times." His grip on the neck of the glass was tight, "Not necessarily as a whole, but 'why me?' Why do I have to be the stereotype, why do I have to be the black parentless, foster-care kid, why couldn't I grow up like a normal child. Two parents, maybe some siblings. Hell, a dog too."

"What do you mean?"

"I lost both my parents at a young age, barely knew my mom. My dad was murdered by his own people..." You tried to look into his eyes, but they seemed so distant as he continued to explain the story.

"I'm so sorry, Erik."

"Nah, it's all good now. My life was shit, but like you sang back at church, that Kirk Franklin song."

"Looking for you?"

"Yeah, the beginning part."

"I'm glad my singing got to you." You smiled at him. You're not sure when it happened, but your hand had found his and your thumb rubbed over his knuckles. He lifted your hand up and pressed it against his lips.

"How you get drunk off of Rosé?" He shook his head with a judgemental look on his face.

"I'm not." You weren't totally drunk, just a bit.

The drive to his place was rather quick, you were already making it into his gated home. It was a little hard to make out what the place looked like in the dark, it was almost as if he made it incognito. Not a single light was on. As he unlocked the high tech door, a wave of cold air slapped your bare arms making you shiver. 

"Why does it feel like Antartica in here?" 

"It's just how I like it." He closed the door and put the lock back on.

"No way." You held your arms as you shivered, but he placed his very hot blazer over your shoulders. Okay, so now you understood why he kept his place so cold. The man generated heat like an oven. You were instantly warmed up.

"Lights on, main floor." He spoke to no one in particular, or so you thought until a robotic female voice recited his command and lights began turning on. 

"Whoa, is this one of those smart homes?"

"Kinda. It just got vibranium and Wakandan technology."

"Seriously?" 

"I did tell you the King is my cousin." He began walking into another room.

"Hold up!" You caught up to him. 

You were now in his kitchen that connected to his living room. His style was very modern and sleek. It was so clean that not a single spot of dust was visible to the naked eye. He had many African artworks and artifacts around the room and a gigantic map of the world with little red pushpins located in different spots. 

"Hey Erik?"

"Hmm?" He was taking a shot of something with a golden brown colour.

"What's up with this map?"

He swallowed the liquid and made his way over to you. "It's for every place I been."

"Cuz you were in the military right?"

"Yup."

Then the thought came to your head, "Hey, Erik?"

"Wassup?"

"Have you ever um..." Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to, "Actually, never mind."

"Aight." 

You sat down on his large sectional sofa and released your curls from your hair tie. It felt just as good as taking off your bra, but of course you couldn't do that at the moment. Then another thought came to you, but Erik had already seated himself beside you with a bottle of Hennessy in his hands, placing it down on the glass table. 

"More alcohol?" You've heard about Hennessy before, but you knew nothing about it.

"Yeah." He simply stated and turned on the TV.

"Can I get some?"

He looked at you funny, "Of what? That?" He pointed to the bottle.

"Yes."

"So you a drinker now?"

"It won't kill me." You restated what he said.

"Aight, look for a movie." He got up from the couch and went back into his kitchen to get you a glass.

You scrolled through the vast selection, you weren't sure what to watch. Anything but horror, you didn't want to invite anymore demons into the world. He came back before you could find anything.

"Just pick one." He said while filling your glass.

"There's too many to choose from. Why don't you do it?"

"Cuz, you're the guest and you won't like what I pick."

"How do you know what I like and don't like?"

"I got a pretty good understanding, ma. Now choose one."

You sighed and settled for one that looked decent, appropriate too.  You took a sip of the drink, your face scowling at the taste. "Oh my- You like this?"

"Mhm." He responded while taking a few more shots. You sucked it up and drank the rest, you didn't want to waste his booze anyway. 

By the thirty minute mark of the movie, your head found its way onto Erik's lap. The drink had sucker punched you, but you tried play it off. Erik was still unfazed, barely watching the movie. His attention was mainly on his phone.

A new sensation sparked your lower half, something you've briefly felt before, but suppressed it knowing exactly what it was. This time though, it came in all at once with a full force. It was an itch that needed to go away.  

You've heard about alcohol being an aphrodisiac before... Uh oh.

You compressed your thighs together relieving it for a few seconds, but it felt as though it intensified and Erik noticed you shifting. 

"You good?" He asked. His voice was so soft and enticing, calling you forward. You raised your head out of his lap and straddled him. "Whoa..."

"Erik..." Your voice came out very relaxed.

"Aye, you go-"

Your lips found their way onto his, stunning both of you in the process. You were kissing him so deeply without the intent of letting go. It was a sloppy kiss, truthfully, as you've never kissed another man before.

You had him on his back as you began undressing yourself down to only your matching pair of bra and panties.

"Baby girl, whatchu doing?"

"I'm tired of being the good girl, Erik. It's so boring." You whined to him.

Erik felt his dick twitch at the lust in your voice and eyes, he could feel his old self coming back quickly. He should've known better than to be drinking, but it was a rough week. 

You leaned in and met him with another kiss, this time he was the dominant one. You helped him out of his button up, your hands now coming in contact with the bumps that you felt back at church. Had you not been so wasted, you would've reacted, but that was the last thing on your mind. 

He was out of his pants before you knew it, and you were on your back. He kissed down your neck, making sure to leave love bites on you. He trailed all the way to your stomach, right down to the band of your blue lace panties. His fingers slid under the band yanking them further down till they were off completely. 

"Damn, ma." He ran his finger up and down your wet folds before inserting it.

"Uhh." You moaned at the intrusion. 

His tongue soon found it's way onto your clit as well. You moaned and thrashed as he continued to assault your womanhood. He made sure to hold you down as he ate you out. He was an expert, despite this being your first time, you could tell he was really skilled. He lifted your leg over his shoulder and stuck another finger into you. You hands found their way into his dreads and you gripped tightly, he hissed at your action.

"Ohhhh." You moaned aloud.

"You like this, mama?" 

"Nngh, yes!" 

The feeling in your core intensified until you could no longer hold it and you released without warning, a plethora of moans falling from your lips.

"Damn baby, you ain't warn me."

"Mmh, I'm sorry."

"Nah," He sat up. "Sorry ain't gonna cut it." 

He pulled off his boxers and climbed over top of your shaking frame. He took the tip of the penis and rubbed it along the outside of you, coating it in your wetness. You shivered at his touch.

He had one hand by your ear and the other on his member, guiding it into you. The stretch was unbelievable, your hands gripped his arms tightly. 

"Fuck, this pussy so tight." 

"Oh, unnghh."

"That's it, just a little more." He continued to slide into you, and you tried your best to ignore any pain you were feeling, but that was almost impossible. His gold chain that you hadn't noticed before dangled over your head, it had a ring attached to it.

He thrusted into you, not checking if you were alright. All you could feel was pain and little spurts of pleasure here and there.

"Mmh, oh. I-it's too much!" You groaned.

"I know you can take it, come on girl." 

He was definitely curing your itch, but that same feeling was welling into your core once again. You placed your hand on the lower half of his abdomen and begged for him not to go any deeper.

"Mhh-mmh. That's it, that's it." You continuously chanted as he continued thrusting. 

He pulled out and had you go on all fours, you were a shaking mess. He dived right back into you pumping at a steady pace. 

You cried out his name. "Erik, ohhhh fffff-" It was so overstimulating that you almost cursed. 

"Was that a bad word?" He spanked your ass.

"Ah! Noooo." You sighed.

"Come on, say it. I dare you."

"Mmh-mmh." You shook your head slightly.

He picked up the pace and your moans turned into screams as he brushed your cervix. Your toes curled tightly.

"Ahhhh, s-slow d-down unnghhh!" You could swear you were seeing stars as he hammered you into the sofa. 

"Ahhh shit." He sped up even faster. Your high was at it's peak now.

"Fuck!" You screamed out, not even realizing it, but a string of curse words followed. You couldn't stop yourself as you released onto his cock with a scream.

He pulled out and released onto your back as you collapse, blanked out without a care in the world.

The next morning, you felt something warm and wet on your shoulder.

"Minnie, stop. That tickles." You pushed the culprit away, but your hand retracted as soon as you felt human skin and kinky hair. You shot up and stared down at him. Regret instantly clouded your heart, and nausea filled your stomach. 

It wasn't a sinful dream... You had lost your virginity so a man you had barely known. Something you promised to keep to yourself until marriage.

"Get away from me." You pushed him away as tears streamed down your face. You scooted back so far and almost fell off of his king sized bed in the process.

"(Y/n), it's just me." 

"N-no, oh my gosh. Please tell me I was dreaming?" You held your head in your palms. You knew it was real, seeing that you were wearing one of his shirts, your curls were a hot mess, and you woke up in his bed. Not to mention the ache in between your legs.

"You good, ma?" 

"No, Erik! I'm not 'good'! I'm terrible." 

"Did I go too hard?" He asked without shame.

"That's not the issue, Erik! We had sex, right?"

"Yeah, it was great."

You sighed, collapsing your head into your lap. "I'm a sinner. I can't- I-"

"What's that suppose to mean?"

Your tears rolled off your cheeks landing onto the bed sheets, "You took my virginity, Erik."

"Oh shit..."

"I was saving it. Sex before marriage... Why would I do that? Ugh!"

" We were both drunk. It's not that serious, (y/n)." 

"Of course it is!" You snapped at him. "We barely even know each other... This is my first time seeing you outside of church."

He was silent as he watched your tears of regret fall.

"I gave in to one of the cardinal sins... God must be so disgusted with me." You sighed, "Hebrews 13:4, Marriage should be honored by all, and the marriage bed kept pure, for God will judge the adulterer and all the sexually immoral."

"Hold up, you talking about lust, right?" He finally spoke up.

"Yeah." You answered with a sniffle. 

"Ain't you the one who told me about forgiveness. Redemption. All that shit." 

You looked at him a little puzzled.

"You really think you a bad person for fucking?" He took off his shirt, "You know what these bumps are? They each represent a kill."

Your eyes widened as your hand covered your mouth.

"Thou shalt not kill, one of the Ten Commandments. I disobeyed that one, each scar on my body reminding me. You know what's the sad thing about it, I don't regret any of them. I did what I had to do, that's the path I chose." He scoffed, "You worried about sex, I got blood on my hands, baby. Shit, I don't even know if I can be saved."

You had to register a lot, it was all so overwhelming. You had given in to temptation and had sex with a man you only knew so much about, not to mention he's a killer... But then it hit you.

"W-wait... Don't tell me that you're K-Killmoger..."

"Surprise." He said unenthusiastically, his eyes had glossed over at some point, but you missed it. 

It felt as if the weight of the world came crashing down on your shoulders. You weren't sure if you should run away, leave or stay. 

Surprisingly, you found yourself cradling his head in your lap. You both remained silent and let the moment register.

"John 1:9, If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness." He said while your fingers ran against his scalp.

You decided not to sing this Sunday, as it would feel hypocritical to be teaching these people what it means to be a good Christian through songs. Throughout the service, you hadn't seen Erik. He was kind enough to drop you back at your place the night before, but he took off in a hurry.

"(Y/n), you're not praying for anyone today?" Your father asked as he waved a few sisters goodbye.

"Actually, I needed a prayer for myself. And also with Erik in mind."

"Sure, what about?"

"Forgiveness of sin and restoration."

The look he gave you was quizzical, "Alright."

As your father prayed, Erik watched from a distance. He could feel your father's words in his heart without actually hearing anything. He knew that he was no good for you. You were just a church girl doing the right thing, while he was still trying to figure it out.

He was your temptation and you were his.

Okay, so this has been my longest one-shot with 9000+. I hope you enjoyed!

(Start/Finish: November 7-8, 2018)

[abbatoirablaze]

Back To You, Nothing But A Memory

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings:  angst

“VICTOR, JACOB, BETHANY!” Fei Tan yelled at the three children, “I KNOW YOU THREE ARE NOT RUNNING AROUND IN MY HOUSE!  DON’T YOU DARE MAKE ME CALL YOUR FATHER HOME FROM WORK, BECAUSE YOU KNOW THAT I WILL!”

“Sorry Mrs. Tan,” the seven-year-old blond girl frowned as she came to a grinding halt.  Ten-year-old Jacob went wide-eyed before bolting out of his mother’s line of vision.  Eight-year-old Victor, however, stopped beside his neighbor, almost using her as a shield from his mother, “we-we were only playing…I-I’m sorry.”

“Oh, I can’t stay mad at you!  You are like the daughter I always wanted.  Give Auntie Fei a hug,” she cooed at the doe-eyed girl, scooping her into her arms.  Bethany giggled, returning the hug before being placed back beside Victor.  He gently reached across and took her hand, hoping that his mother would go easier on him since he was with Bethany.  She gave him a stern look, “Victor…you know the rules.”

He nodded, before his eyes averted her firm gaze.

“Victor, you be respectful and look at me!” she proclaimed.  Victor swallowed and looked up at his mother.  She reached forward and grabbed his chin, holding it between her fingertips, “you know not to run in the house.  Last time, your cousin Z tripped…because you four were-“

“I’m sorry!” he began, uttering out the words as best as he could from his mother’s grasp, “We won’t do it again!  I promise!”

“Good!  At least you’re good boy and face problems,” she smiled softly, patting him on the cheek.  She straightened out and looked to the stairs, “JACOB!  YOU COME DOWN HERE NOW!”

“Mama…” Jacob whined pathetically from around the corner.

“Don’t you make me walk over to you, Jacob Tan!”

“I’m sorry mama…”

“You sorry, you come here…”

The little boy padded around the corner, partially behind Bethany and Victor, but Fei Tan waved her finger at him, “no, no.  You don’t hide behind your little brother, Victor and Bethany.  You come here, Jacob Tan.  Right now!”

“Mama-“

“Bethany!  Victor.  You go upstairs until lunch is ready!”

“Yes Mrs. Tan!”

“Yes mama.”

“You remember that time when we were little?” Bethany asked as she looked at Victor.  Victor’s heart raced as her giggles seemed to wrap around him almost as much as the warmth of her body as she used his chest as her own personal pillow.  His heart fluttered as she batted her eyes at him, “you remember when you told me you loved me?”

“We were five and six!  It’s not as bad as you’re making it seem,” Victor chuckled from his spot on the blanket, “and anyways, you’re my girlfriend…so who’s really the one to laugh at?  I knew I loved you from the first second I met you!  You’re the one laying in my arms, so who really lost here?”

“Remember the day I moved to the apartment building?” she asked softly, looking up at him.

“I’ll never forget it!” he smiled.

“Hi…”

“What you want?” Fei Tan asked skeptically as she opened the door to the apartment.  The woman jumped as Fei got louder, “I ASK WHAT YOU WANT!  WHY YOU HERE?”

“Sorry…sorry.  I just-“

“Momma…”

Fei Tan’s rage stopped short when she saw the little girl cowering behind her mother. 

“Me and my daughter just moved into the building…you’re our neighbor…and we just-wanted to say hello and introduce ourselves.”

The little girl stepped out from behind her mother and handed off a simple looking box filled with cookies and brownies.  She bowed ever so slightly, her voice barely above a whisper as she attempted to hand the box off, her little hands trembling, “We made these for you…”

Fei softened, instantly feeling bad about making the little girl nervous.

“That is…that is very nice.  Thank you.” Fei said softly, bowing ever so slightly as she took the treats from the little girl, “you make this?”

“Uh-huh…me and mommy,” she muttered shyly, looking away from the woman.  She leaned against her mother and gripped her shirt, “I like making stuff.  Baking is my favorite!”

“Me too!” Fei proclaimed, already instantly warmed up to the little girl, “I am Fei Tan…”

“I-I’m Alice…and this is my daughter Bethany,” the woman smiled, pulling the attention back to herself, “I-I’m sorry if we bothered you, but Bethany begged me to come after she saw you had kids of your own.  We just moved into the building, like I said.  She-“

“You white!” Fei pointed out, cutting the other woman off. 

Alice, shell-shocked at the bluntness didn’t know what to do, “I-uh-yes…”

“This not white apartment building…you’ll stick out like sore thumb…why are you here?”

“My-my boyfriend’s family…they-they are-“

“Alice, what are you doing out in the hallway?”

Fei realized why she’d moved into the apartment building, as an Asian man strolled up to the two.   Both the woman and child all but lit up when they saw him. 

“I’m sorry…I just-we got stir crazy Lee…you know how Bethany gets.”

“Papa!” Bethany giggled happily, seeing the familiar man.  He gave his girlfriend a kiss before lifting the little girl up.

“You’re not her father!” Fei said quickly, pointing out the obvious difference. 

“Sometimes family is who you choose…not blood…Fei.”

“Is Mrs. Tan,” she reminded her husband’s friend, “you no call me Fei, Lee!”  

“Papa…can I play with Mrs. Tan’s kids?” 

Before Fei could answer, her two sons came fluttering past with their aunt and her son, “Fei…these boys…”

The boisterous trio made their way into the house, and Bethany was quick to get out of Lee’s arms.

“VICTOR.  JACOB!”

Two little boys reappeared at the door, “Who’s this?”

“This new neighbors,” Fei announced, “Alice and Bethany, moved in with Uncle Yang.”

“Yang?” Jacob asked, looking at the two women curiously, “Momma they’re white!”

Bethany giggled, and it was Victor who instantly seemed taken by her, “I-I’m Victor.”

“I’m Bethany.”

“I-I love you, Bethany!”

She giggled even more, a blush rising to her cheeks, “You’re cute!”

Bethany bit her lip and sighed happily.  Reaching out she stroked her boyfriend’s jaw before leaning in, “I love you, Victor Tan…”

“And I love you, Bethany one day Tan!” he smiled softly as their lips brushed.  She giggled once more as Victor leaned forward, putting some of his weight behind it.  She gasped as he rolled, pressing himself against her.  Their kiss broke, and their eyes met, both of them breathing shallowly.  He was hovering above her. 

She reached up again, stroking his cheek once more, “I can’t wait until we start college in the fall at UCLA…god, it’s the worst thing ever that we don’t go to the same school, but soon we’ll be in an apartment together…sh-“

“I need to tell you something baby…” he muttered sadly, the weight of his decision eating away at him.  He bit his lip and Bethany rolled the two of them, until she was on top, straddling his waist. Victor’s heart ached as the sunset outlined her frame, the pinks and oranges lighting up her blonde hair, and making her look like she had a halo. 

School was starting in two weeks.  

The days had been feeling shorter and shorter as the young couple ended their nights at the beach before sneaking back home. 

Victor sighed happily as he looked at his girlfriend.  Reaching out, he laced their fingers, before drawing them up to his mouth and kissing them, “I love you, Bethany Yang…”

“I love you, Victor Tan!” she giggled softly, scooting closer to him.  Their lips brushed and he smiled, letting go of her hand so that he could start wrapping his arms around her.  The couple scooted together, and Bethany flipped over, becoming the little spoon on their shared blanket, “you know…this year feels like it’s going to be crazy.”

“You’re telling me…senior year…we’ve got one more year of being at different schools.”

“And after that is UCLA!” she reminded him sweetly.  He nodded, pressing a kiss to her cheek.  She yawned and snuggled against him more, “we’re going to get ourselves a place together…just the two of us.”

“No dealing with Jacob walking in on us…”

“Or our parents!” she giggled softly. 

Victor felt a blush rising to his cheeks as he thought of the memory, “you told me that the door was locked.”

“I thought it was.”

“Just us,” he smiled, offering her another kiss as he looked out at the water, “we’ll be college freshman…sitting in a classroom all day, coming to the beach on the weekends…making love in our apartment every night…” 

“I can’t wait…”

“Me either.”

She laced their fingers together, “what is it?  You aren’t going to fight me over where we get an apartment, are you?  Because I’m dead set on-“

“I’m going to MIT!”

The words died in her throat. 

Victor had promised her back in December, when they both got their acceptance letters that they’d be together for college.  He was going to be studying engineering, while she was going to be a social worker. 

She hadn’t even heard him talk about MIT. 

“Wh-what?”

“I thought it was a long shot.  You know, ever since dad passed, mom said I should try to get in,” he admitted sadly as she let go of his hands.  His hands immediately went to her hips, and he started rubbing reassuring circles, “baby…I didn’t think I’d get in.  But when I did.  I-“

“How long did you know?”

Victor’s gaze left hers. 

Her heart broke.

“How long did you know, Victor.”

“Baby-“

“Look at me, and tell me…”

His eyes met hers, and suddenly he regretted it all.  Regretted even applying.  But most of all, he’d regretted that he’d hidden it away from her, “I-January.”

“January?”

He nodded. 

“Wh-when were you planning on telling me?” she sniffled, her eyes going glassy over the news, “we-were you going to wait until we had to sign a lease?  Were you going to disappear in the middle of the summer and let your mom tell me?  VICTOR!  You look at me and tell me…wh-why didn’t you tell me?”

“We both know why, Bethany…”

She sniffled a little bit more and shook her head, removing herself from on top of her boyfriend.  Victor reached out, but she slapped his hands away, “don’t touch me!  Don’t you dare, Victor!”

“Baby-“

“Go to hell, Victor Tan!” she spat, “I-I never want to see you again!”

Chapter 2

[a-christmas-carol-from-hr]

a spring-time in the haggard winter of his life

Marley’s wife was dead to begin with.

This must be entirely understood or nothing that follows can be considered miraculous.

Marley’s wife was dead, as dead as a doornail. What was dead about a doornail, I cannot say. Nor could Marley’s wife, on the account of her death. Were she not dead, however, she would not have hesitated to comment on the impracticality of the metaphor. Marley’s wife had been,  after all, a very practical woman. That was how the kind would describe her. The unkind would have called her a cold hearted bitch. It would be unkind, but not untruthful. But for the sake of Marley, we shall use ‘a very practical woman’.

Aye, for the sake of Marley, and the sake of their child, we shall be polite on the nature of his wife. For they did have a child. A girl. She was the account of her mother’s life. Where she began, her mother ended. It had been a tragedy of life, all too common, even in the house of the rich. A life for a life. One soul for another.

A good bargain, in all accounts. Let us never say Marley’s wife was not thrifty.

Marley knew she was dead. How could he not? He had been left with the very real, very small, and very young evidence of her death. And the absence of such a wife could not have gone unnoticed in the household, even by a man such as Marley. They had been married for I can’t say how many years. Marley was her sole executor, her sole administrator, her sole assign, her sole residuary legatee, her sole mourner, and the life bound to her by the Church and Government of England. Not that that mattered all too much to them. Neither attended the Church and the Government had united them as a practical affair.

He was the sole mourner at her funeral. I wish I could say he was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event.

The mention of Marley’s wife’s funeral is only to bring me back to the point I began with. Marley’s wife was dead. She had left behind ledgers and cash boxes, safes and purses, notes and coins, and a widower and a babe. Her presence remained, in the sign above the door to their counting house, in the face of an unfortunate baby girl, and in the pitch black of her husband’s clothes.

Oh, but he was an iceberg, Marley! A frozen, frosted, empty, flinty, rime-crusted, corroded old sinner. His heart was dyed black as an iced road, and twice as unhealthy. He was not as old as people thought him, but grief had aged him more in one year than 38-years had in sum. It paled his skin, chilled his hands, froze his voice, and frosted any mercy that might be found in his eyes.

Nobody stopped to speak to him. Nobody stopped to ask after him. Nobody looked in on him. Nobody gave condolences. Nobody gave a thought to him, except to avoid him. But what did Marley care?

The only living being he gave any form of care to was his daughter. The two would be seen walking at all hours; she asleep in his arms and he focused on the ground. She was his perennial companion. The girl slept in an orange crate by his desk while he worked, sleeping through the plethora of evictions and debt collections her father sent out day by day. He only stopped to take care of her, and only then did he show any spark of warmth or care. But woe to those who tried to use that to their advantage.

Once upon a time- on the darkest of days, on Christmas Eve, on his daughter’s first birthday- the girl lay sleeping in her bed and the father sat busy in the counting house. She knew nothing of the date. It was all “nuts” to her, who cared more about a warm blanket and her afternoon meal. But Marley knew.

How could he not.

AN: an au of an au, set in the victorian/canon setting, where ellen was the ghost and marley was the hauntee (because an ellen scrooge married to jacob marley was ellen marley).

[fangirlvibez]

The Bradshaw son and Seresin daughter - part 3

Characters: Bradley Bradshaw x female!OC Madison Ella Hanscott, Son!OC Nicolas Peter Bradshaw, Jake Seresin x female!OC Quinn Kelsell, Daughter!OC Hazel Alexandra Seresin, Son!OC Benjamin Jacob Seresin

Warnings: in this chapter: mention about teenage pregnancy, mention of abortion, one swear word, mention of running away (Let me know if I forgot a warning)

Summary of the story: The 16 year old daughter of Jake Seresin gets pregnant. The dad: the 18 year old son of Bradley Bradshaw. How will the dads react to their kids becoming teen parents.

A/N: English is not my first language, so if there is any spelling or grammar errors: please let me know

Previous part - next part - masterlist

“We decided it is best for you guys to..” the teenagers looked at the older man. Hazel let out a loud sob again and Nick saw red when they heard the decision their parents made. “For you guys to get an abortion”

“What!” Nick said loudly. His mom slightly jumping at his voice. She never seen her son this angry. “You can’t decide that. It’s mine and Hazels decision, but especially Hazels.” He said to both pair of parents. “Hazel is only 16, she can’t make a decision like that” Jake said like his daughter wasn’t sitting two chairs away from him. “We’re her parents, we know what’s best for her” he said. “No! Fuck no!” Nick said. “Honey, please stay calm. We already looked up places where she can have an abortion and made an appointment for next week Wednesday.” Madison said. Hazel got more tears in her eyes but tries to be quiet.

“No mom. If you actually listened to me before you send us out of the room you would of know that we already talked about it and decided to keep the baby” he said. The parents looked up at the teenage boy. “Is that true?” Quinn turned to her crying daughter next to her. Hazel sniffles. She wipes her hand under her nose and wipes away the tears streaming on her cheeks. She looks into her moms light eyes and nodded. “I want to keep the baby mom” she said. Hazel jumps slightly when Jake chair got pushed behind him loudly. “Absolutely not.” He said. “You’re only 16, Hazel. You’re not going to ruin your life and school career for some baby you have with some low-life” he sighed. “You know what, if you only have bad things to say about my son, it’s best for us to leave.” Bradley said. He takes his wifes hand in his and stands up. “Let’s go” he said. He tries to push Nick out of the dinning room towards the hallway. But Nick stood with both feet on the ground.

“No. We’re keeping the baby. Whether you like it or not” He said, mostly turned to Jake. Nick stared into Jakes eyes. If looks could kill, Jake would be dead on the ground. “Leave my house immediately and if I ever caught you with my daughter again, you’ll be dead” “dad, you can’t do that” Hazel said, standing up, trying to stand in front of her father. “I don’t want to hear you Hazel! You go to your room” he was pointing his finger at her. Hazel wanted to cry but she had no tears left. Slowly she turned towards the door and left to go to her room. She wanted to say something to her boyfriend. But deep down she knew her dad would only get more angry at her and Nick.

Bradley took Nicks arm in his hand and dragged him out of the house. “Oh and Nick” Jake said. Bradley stopped and the father son duo turned towards Jake. “I wasn’t the only one to decide you aren’t ready to become parents” Nick knew that. His parents where as guilty in the decision making as Hazels parents were. The 18 year old pulled his arm out of his fathers grip. “I’m walking home” he said before taking his jacket and walking out of the front door. Bradley sighed before whistling down the hallway to call Sparky back down.

~~~~~~~~~~

Later that evening Nick had locked himself into his room. His parents tried to talk to him when he came home from walking, but he ignored them and went straight towards his room. He was laying on the bed texting Hazel about the situation.

Nick sighed. He knew it was a crazy idea. Running away from home. Where would they go? How would they do it? Will Hazel still be able to go to school? Will he still be able to go to the Naval Academy? Will their parents look for them? He puts his phone on his bedside table and runs his fingers through Sparkys fur, who was laying next to him on the bed. What will happen with Sparky? Will they take Sparky with them or leave him here with his family. He knows his parents love Sparky as much as a second son. Nick groans, why did he asked Hazel to run away with him? What was he thinking? That she would just agree with his stupid ideas. Sparky senses the mood change in Nick. He pushes his head into Nicks chest. Nick smiles at the dog before he hears his phone go off.

Taglist: @confusedpimp @dempy @michael-loves-chickens @massivedetectivestudent @starkleila @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @mirrorball-6 (if your username is crossed out it means I couldn’t tag you) (let me know if you want to be tagged)

[countrymusiclover]

89 - The Last Remaining Gemini

Part 90

Gemini Runaway

@icefrye19 @secretdreamlandmentality

Missy, Hope and Alina got out of the car running head first toward their grandpa’s house. Klaus and I followed shortly behind them seeing the front door of the cabin open. “There’s my adorable granddaughters.” My father opened his arms and they all tackled him in hugs.

“Hey dad, we thought you’d like to see them.” I smiled stepping into the house since we had already been invited inside previously.

He smiled leading our daughters in by their intertwined hands until we were in the living room. He had them sit down on the floor coming over to Klaus and I standing in the hallway away from them. “I’ll keep them distracted but your mothers spell’s should be in your old bedroom. I pretty much went and found every book that I couldn’t understand.”

“Thanks for helping. Shall we, Rae?” Klaus let me lead the way until I walked inside, turning around slightly raising a brow when he was standing outside the doorway. “I am trying to be a gentleman since it’s your childhood bedroom.”

Waving my hand at him I chuckled. “Come in. You’ve already seen me with no clothes on before. I think you get a pass for life….now let’s see her books here.”

Scanning my eyes over the large book on the bed I plopped down beside it. Klaus slowly walked in the room looking around at the two tiny beds and a dresser with some books. That made up the whole room but it was all I had known. “This might be a good idea to leave the girls' bedrooms together. That way they are closer like you and Jacob are.”

“I think they will always be close considering they are magical triplets. Okay, let’s hope this works…

Phasmatos manex un domo hax, fero adiuvex.” Placing my hands over the pages of her magical grimoire. I saw my hands turn red siphoning off the magic with my heightened senses hearing the wind and everything else so clearly.

“Hey baby girl.” I grin masked my face when I recognized my mother’s voice.

Lifting my head up from the book I kept my hands siphoning off the magic. My mother sat in front of me so clearly like the last time I saw her before I learned she had sacrificed herself. “Mom….I…I’m so sorry…for everything.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Rae. I was the one in the wrong by not telling you and your brother about the Merge. It was my fault what happened and I fixed it now.” She reached over to touch my hand in her ghost form. “But I can tell there’s something else we need to talk about isn’t there?”

Klaus waved at my mother coming to sit down behind me. “Hello again, Mrs. Lane. Great news we are married and your son has bore a daughter with a werewolf.”

“Oh that's great news, Klaus. Raelyn, honey what’s wrong?” Eliza asked about being able to see the terror on my face.

Slumping my shoulders I breathed heavily. “His daughter Andrea has a werewolf gene that now has an old spirit of a witch hunting her for her magic. And we’re not sure how much magic we need to defeat her. Is there a way to contact our dead coven?”

“So my brother and the other’s finally died. Oh my…it will take a whole lot of magic. And you would have to split that type of power into different people. One person cannot hold that much magic.” She tapped her fingers on her knees in deep thought.

Tucking hair behind my ear I shook my head. “But it is possible, right. How do we contact them once they are gone?”

“It’s a difficult spell that will take time to gain whoever will hold the power. Otherwise they will most likely die. But basically from what I remember you will need the living blood of our family, the sight of the strongest magic and probably a celestial event.” My mother thought long and hard like she had done this before.

Tilting my head to the side I dared to ask. “Mom, have you done this before?”

“It was what the spell Bennett’s used to create the Ascendent. Considering it was the key to the prison worlds our coven created. Then it is the link between us and our dead coven.” Eliza reached forward grabbing my hands. “I have to go now, honey but I love you.”

Removing my hands from the pages she disappeared from my view. “I love you too.”

Klaus offered me his hand tugging me off the bed seeing that I was crying. “Come here, Rae.” He wrapped his arms around my waist. Moving my fingers upward I death gripped his shoulders until I got out all my tears.

“Yeah, yeah. Uh let’s go. We have got the Ascendant from Cami.” I broke the hug heading down the hallway with him in toe.

“Remind me again why we gave it to her in the first place. I mean she’s not a witch.” He raised a brow at me until we got into the living room.

“Because if another witch got their hands on it they would use it against us and our girls.” Halting in my tracks the girls we’re playing tag with their grandfather until I cleared my throat. “Girls grab your coats. We have to head back to New Orleans before the sun sets.”

“But we’ve only been here for an hour.” Alina whined arms over her chest angrily.

Missy whispered. “Can we stay a little longer?”

“Please mom, dad.” Hope begged us.

Klaus lowered himself onto his knees giving them a half smile knowing that they didn’t want to leave. But we didn’t have time to wait for another celestial event to come. “Girls, I know you don’t want to leave. But this is how we can get closer to help your cousin Andrea with the Hollow. You don’t want her to have to suffer for a long time do you?”

“No.” The triplets responded.

He rose to his feet tilting his head in the direction of the doorway. “Good then we have to go. Go get your coats like mom said.”

“I assume you’ll be needing this too. It’s the knife you and your brother merged with that night.” My dad went over and revealed a knife from its hiding place behind a family portrait we had taken when we were younger.

He placed it in my hand where I winced feeling the magic inside the blade. “Ah! Yeah thanks for finding it. I swear one of these days we will bring the girls over for a real visit.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just protect my grandchildren, all four of them.” He kissed my forehead before we got in the car driving back to New Orleans. We parked the car outside the witch cemetery seeing that Cami was already there with Hayley, Jacob and Andrea.

Cami steps forward pulling the Ascendent out of her jacket. “This is what you need right?”

Nodding my head I waved my freehand lighting all the candles in a circle on fire. Handing her some chalk I told my vampire friend. “Draw a circle with this around the candles. But make sure the candles remain outside the circle.”

She began drawing as I told her while Klaus came over resting a hand to my cheek clearly concerned. “I wish it didn’t always have to be you. Your uncle may have tried to make things right but he can still hurt you over there.”

“We have to give our girls the coven power. Otherwise they might not be strong enough to defeat the Hollow once we know how. I’ll be okay, Nik.” Kissing him quickly I turn my back to him with Cami and Hayley going to stand beside him outside the circle.

Andrea stepped into the circle holding my brother's hand. “Daddy, what do I do?”

“Just do what Auntie Rae Rae tells you to do. You’ll be just fine and I’ll be here with you.” He squeezed her hand holding up the knife from our merge. “Are you sure this is going to work, Rae?”

Hope, Alina and Missy stepped inside the circle with the three of us waiting for instructions. “Mom said that the Bennet line created the Ascendant. So we’re using what little blood Cami got from Bonnie from last time. But basically we’re going to give it the old college try, cause I don’t know any other options.”

“Alrighty then, let’s do this.” Jacob took the knife and sliced his palm with it dropping blood in the center of the circle ring. He handed it over to his daughter where she sliced a part of her hand following what he did.

Alina took the blade from her cutting her hand. “This helps us save Andrea?”

I nodded towards her watching Missy and Hope follow her movements. Missy put the blade in my hand where I quickly sliced it, dropping my blood on top of theirs. “So here’s what I think we have to do. We use the Ascendent to open up another world. One where we can see Uncle Joshua and your second cousins Jo, Luke and Liv. We draw power from them and jump out before it kills us all.”

“So no pressure at all.” Jacob chuckles dryly, clearly more nervous now that I had said it.

Glancing at my brother I slumped my shoulders holding the Ascendent in my hands. “J, I wish I could say you can back out if you wanted. But we are the last remaining Gemini whether we are no longer linked to them or not. We share blood regardless. And this is to save your daughter.”

“Okay, okay to save my daughter.” He cleared his throat stepping up and holding the magical object in his hands alongside me.

Nudging my head in our direction I called the four young kids. “Girls, I need you all to come hold this with me and Jacob. And repeat the chants we say.” The four children each put their hands around the Ascendent like we were doing where I closed my eyes.

“Dad, I’m scared.” Andrea whimpered.

Jacob sent her a brave look. “Just close your eyes and do what we do, honey.”

Closing my eyes I sighed feeling my vampire side drawing the magic from the Ascendent once I began chanting the different spells that we we’re combining together. “Sanguinem desimilus , sanguinem generis flantes. Sanguinem desimilus , sanguinem generis flantes…Phasmatos obscuras, ex luces est nes umbres. Phasmatos obscuras, ex luces est nes umbres…Coniunctum est vita….Coniunctum est vita, Sanguinem desimilus , sanguinem generis flantes.”

The wind around us began howling in our eyes and the others watched as the blood that we had dropped on the floor started circling us. So now we had three rings around our group. The Ascendent was turning red with the four out of the six of us siphoning off each other and the magic in this city. “Are we sure this is a good idea, Klaus?” Cami asked the hybrid, turning her head towards him.

“It’s an attempt to save my daughter, Cami. I don’t like endangering her but we have to do something.” Hayley wraps her arms around herself gulping in nervousness seeing the love of her life and daughter doing this.

Yet Klaus was the more nervous out of the three just forced to watch. He moved his hand upward clutching the blue jewel necklace he was still wearing around his neck. “Raelyn, is the strongest witch I’ve ever seen. If something goes wrong she will get them all out of there. She..she has to.” His gaze shifted forward and remained there watching when the six witches let go of each other’s hands and collapsed onto the ground on their backs.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[brian-in-finance]

Outlander Watch S05E06 Better To Marry Than Burn

Connecting The 🟡 Dots

🟡 ⚜️👑 Season Five to One to Seven

The Show

The soldier looks to see that the Dragoon Lieutenant is heading back to his horse. As Morna walks back to the carriage, her SHOE gets stuck in the MUD.

The soldier bends down to help her -- as he does, he spies something STRAPPED UNDERNEATH THE CARRIAGE: a WOODEN BOX….

He’s slid the box out from its fastenings and has opened it to reveal BARS OF GOLD. He holds one up, engraved with a FLEUR DE LIS.

Official Script S05E6 Better To Marry Than Burn

Gifs: @lochiels

The Book

It was a company of English soldiers, Cumberland’s men. Arriving too late to join in the victory at Culloden, they were inflamed by news of it—but frustrated at not sharing in the battle, and only too ready to wreak what vengeance they could on fleeing Highlanders.

Always a quick thinker, Hector had sunk back in the corner of the coach at sight of them, his head bent and a shawl pulled over it, pretending to be an aged crone, sunk in sleep. Following his hissed instructions, Jocasta had leaned out of the window, prepared to pose as a respectable lady traveling with her daughter and mother.

The soldiers had not waited to hear her speech. One yanked open the door of the coach, and dragged her out. Morna, panicked, had leapt out after her, trying to pull her mother away from the soldier. Another man had grabbed the girl, and dragged her back, so that he stood between Jocasta and the coach.

“Another minute, and they meant to have ‘Grannie’ out on the ground as well—and then they would find the gold, and it would be all up wi’ all of us.”

A pistol shot startled all of them into momentary immobility. Leaning from the coach’s open door, Hector had fired at the soldier holding Morna—but it was dusk and the light was poor; perhaps the horses had moved, jostling the coach. The shot struck Morna in the head.

“I ran to her,” Jocasta said. Her voice was hoarse, her throat gone dry and thick. “I ran to her, but Hector jumped out and seized me. The soldiers were all standing, staring with the shock. He dragged me back, into the coach, and shouted to the groom to drive, drive on!”

She licked her lips and swallowed, once.“‘She is dead,’ he said to me. Over and over, ‘She is dead, you cannot help,’ he said, and held me tight when I would have thrown myself from the coach in my despair.”

The Fiery Cross, Chapter 53

🟡 ⚜️ 👑

The Show

My father was a Fraser. A younger half-brother to the present master... Colum and Dougal... my mother was Ellen, the elder sister of Colum and Dougal. Colum wished my mother to marry Malcolm Grant. — Jamie Fraser

Transcript S01E07 The Wedding

Instagram S01E07 The Wedding

The Book

“Oh, aye. Ellen was the eldest o’ the six MacKenzie bairns—a year or two older than Colum, and the apple of auld Jacob’s eye. That’s why she’d gone so long unwed; wouldna ha’ aught to do wi’ John Cameron or Malcolm Grant, or any of the others she might have gone to, and her father wouldna force her against her will.”

When old Jacob died, though, Colum had less patience with his sister’s foibles. Struggling desperately to consolidate his shaky hold on the clan, he had sought an alliance with Munro to the north, or Grant to the south. Both clans had young chieftains, who would make useful brothers-in-law. Young Jocasta, only fifteen, had obligingly accepted the suit of John Cameron, and gone north. Ellen, on the verge of spinsterhood at twenty-two, had been a good deal less cooperative. — Old Alec

Outlander/Cross Stitch, Chapter 24

🟡 ⚜️ 👑

The Show

There were three of us when the gold came ashore from France. Dougal MacKenzie took one-third and Hector Cameron another. I was the third man, tacksman to Malcolm Grant, who sent me… But it came too late to make a difference to the cause. So Grant used it for the good of the clan. I dinna know what Dougal did with his, but Hector Cameron, he fled. He was a traitor. And his wife wi' him. I only had to set eyes on River Run to see where the gold had been spent. But not all of it. — Arch Bug

Transcript S07E03 Death Be Not Proud

IMDb S07E03 Death Be Not Proud

The Book

“Ye were the third man, were ye not?” Jamie asked, disregarding this. “When the gold was brought ashore from France. Dougal MacKenzie took one-third, and Hector Cameron another. I couldna say what Dougal did with his—gave it to Charles Stuart, most likely, and may God have mercy on his soul for that. You were tacksman to Malcolm Grant; he sent ye, did he not? You took one-third of the gold on his behalf. Did ye give it to him?”

Arch nodded, slowly.

“It was given in trust,” he said, and his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and spat, the mucus tinged with black. “To me, and then to the Grant—who should have given it in turn to the King’s son.”

“Did he?” Jamie asked, interested. “Or did he think, like Hector Cameron, that it was too late?”

It had been; the cause was already lost at that point—no gold could have made a difference. Arch’s lips pressed so tightly together as almost to be invisible.

“He did what he did,” he said shortly. “What he thought right. That money was spent for the welfare of the clan. But Hector Cameron was a traitor, and his wife with him.”

A Breath Of Snow And Ashes, Chapter 124

🟡 ⚜️ 👑

Remember Ellen Fraser’s connection to the third man?

[jacobklee]

— SETTING: coral cove ; saturday morning — AVAILABILITY: closed starter for SAGE FRANKLIN | ( @sagefranklin )

Jacob was fully looking forward to this weekend. Not only was this his weekend with Selvi, but also, he and Sage had agreed on heading to the aquarium with their respective children because there would be some activities targeting toddlers and young learners. Although Selvi would remain out of those for at least another year, it was a good excuse to see his soul sister and his niece.

After parking his car, Jacob e picked Selvi up from her carrier and attached her to his chest with the kangaroo slings both father and daughter were so used to. He then grabbed her baby bag, flung it over his shoulder then made his way to buy his tickets and wait for Sage inside. It didn't take long for him to hear that oh-so-familiar voice screaming the oh-so-familiar nickname he'd gotten as she zoomed towards him.

"Sammyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!"

It was enough to put a smile on Jake's face as he held onto Selvi with one hand and crouched down to welcome Maggie in his arms with the other. "Heey, baby girl!" He said while protecting Selvi's head from the impact and smooching Maggie's face. "You're so big! Did you miss samchon Jake?" He asked and as the blonde haired girl nodded frantically, Jacob looked over her shoulders to find another blonde he loved so much. "So it's decided. I'm heading home with not one, but two kids." He teased as he straightened himself up, his hand sliding from around Maggie's petite frame down her arm until he was holding her hand, and Jake leaned in to kiss Sage's cheek. "How are you? Ready for some neverending fish talk?"

[diamandodusto]

A FEAST TO THE GODS : CHAPTER VI (FINAL FANTASY XVI)

CHARACTERS

Clive Rosfield : Eldest son of Anabella and Elwin Rosfield. House Rosfield. Dominant of Ifrit. 

Joshua Rosfield : Second son of Elwin and Anabella Rosfield. House Rosfield. Dominant of Phoenix. 

Jill Warrick : A ward of Rosaria and the Rosfield’. Dominant of Shiva. House Rosfield by alliance. 

Cid Telamon : Ex Lord Commander of Waloed, and leader of the Hideaway. Dominant of Ramuh. 

Dyanne Hidgins : Second daughter of Beatrix and Josiah. House Hidgins. Dominant of Leviathan. 

Dion Lesage : Prince of Sanbreque and eldest son. House Lesage, Dominant of Bahamut. 

Barnabas Tharmr : King of Waloed and Ash. House Tharmr. Dominant of Odin.

Sir Terence : Lord Commander of Dion and his lover. 

Sleipnir Harbard : Lord Commander of Barnabas and physical incarnation of his steed as Odin. 

Benedikta Harman : Ally of Barnabas and Chief of the Intelligencers. Dominant of Garuda. 

Hugo Kupka : Economic adviser of Dhalmekian Republic and lover of Benedikta. Dominant of Titan. House Kupka. 

Gav : Cid’s sidekick and scooter. 

Darius Hidgins : Eldest son of the Hidgins. Dyanne’s Shield. House Hidgins. 

Jacob Aryn : 

Bastin Aryn : First heir of the Aryn’. House Aryn. 

Ornela Aryn : Second heir of the Aryn’. House Aryn. 

Anael Aryn : Third heir of the Aryn’. House Aryn. 

Beatrix Hidgins : Darius and Dyanne’s mother. House Hidgins. 

Josiah Hidgins : Darius and Dyanne’s father. House Hidgins. 

Anabella Rosfield : Clive and Joshua’s mother. House Rosfield then Lesage. 

Elwin Rosfield : Archduke of Rosaria. Father of Clive and Joshua. House Rosfield. 

THE HOUSES 

House Rosfield : The Phoenix. Lords and governs Rosaria. Faith of the Eikons. Current head : Clive Rosfield. 

House Lesage : The Dragon. From the Holy Empire of Sanbreque. Governs the same region. Faith of Greagor. Current head : Sylvestre Lesage.

House Hidgins : The Sea Snake. Allies of the Rosfield and has lands in the same regions. Later alleged to Sanbreque. Faith of Leviathan, Eikons. Current head : Josiah Hidgins. 

House Tharmr : The Knight. Possesses Ash and Waloed. Faith of Ultima. Current head : Barnabas Tharmr. 

House Kupka : The Titan. From the Dhalmekian Empire. Current head : Hugo Kupka

House Aryn : The Stag. From Waloed. Faith of Eikons. Military house of Waloed and allies of House Tharmr. 

Thanks to : @aria-lesage​ and @damatheirin​ for their help and support. 

CHAPTER VI

ANABELLA 

Who she thought she was ? 

Anabella chuckled at the words of the special guard. Thus, Dion and Dyanne did fuss the day later ? For Clive and Darius ? How fun that was. Anabella caressed Olivier’s hair, gently, smugly almost even as she kept reading the paper. She never liked Dion, and all she desperately desired was to evict him away from the crown. Let it slip from his fingers, and that was why she purposefully got with child. Let it marinate a bit, and Anabella could become angrier at any moment. The more she waited, the more she tip-toe jogged around to wait, like a starving hound. “I can’t believe your son let that common whore do a fuss for Branded’, my love.” She claimed, next to Sylvestre, who sighed profoundly, boredom felt in his voice. “Dion must care about his beloved, to act on such irresponsibility. They are young Anabella, and loving each other. She must've manipulated his mind into thinking Branded’ were people who deserved to live.” 

Anabella asked Olivier out the room, leaving only she and her husband. Approaching him, feline as the usual, Anabella smiled to Sylvestre. She never believed a word of the rumours between the Hidgins and Dion Lesage. At best, he appreciated her, but Anabella had this gut feeling something was wrong about them two. Off, even. And, she only waited for her moment to lurk from the shadows to push them into disgrace. “Oh, yes, sure. Because your son likes to fuck boys, and you just don’t wanna see it because it doesn’t fit your plans.” Sylvestre gleaned his eyes, in disbelief. He was used to Anabella honesty, yet, his religious self half-believed Anabella. Partly, it is the fault of Dion’s refusal to betrothal to a woman, the second, his own thoughts about… This matter. “Do not speak nonsense, woman. I waited to see them both solidify their bond to see if the rumours about our Champion were true, but I got answers by seeing how caring he is of the Warden of Water. Thus, I decided on confronting the latter later on, about her actions and Dion.” 

Anabella lost grip of her tea cup, the liquid spilling on her dress, she got then up and made haste towards a maid, young and pure, grabbing her by her very ear to get her to cleanse the fabric. Sylvestre remained silent, watching the scene almost impotent. “You’ve thrown people into the Dungeons or in the mines of the Mothercrystal for less, and you dare saying you want an audience with the girl ? Does she do wonders ? Did she suck your cock for you to be so merciful ?!” 

Old fart, she thought. 

“Mayhaps you’ve forgotten this is how you’ve risen to such a position, when you sneaked in my bed during that ball night when your boys and mine were only children. When your husband was bragging how proud he was you’ve given him two good sons to succeed him.” He reminded. Anabella furrowed, furious at his words. But that was just how she was, she loved to think she was her own father with teats, but the truth was : she would wander when a glimpse of power fell into her hands, and then she’d lost the control of it until it would stain her very image. 

But Sylvestre knew. When thwarted, Anabella was nothing more than a spoiled little girl who didn’t know what boundaries were. Yet, he would forgive her each time she’d make him burst into anger : because he loved her. Since they were young, meeting from time to time next to Elwin. Oh, dear Elwin he envied for so long. 

Sometimes, Sylvestre hated the fact he was glad Elwin had passed. Not for political interests, but only his personal shenanigans. And, Sylvestre found joy in the fact he got to get what he always desired : Anabella’s warm body against him at night. He rose off his seat, walking onwards to get closer to his wife. 

“I do not wish to continue this fight, see, I have duties to fill including keeping an eye on that “common whore” you thought good bringing from Rosaria along your side. Yet, she remains a Dominant, moreover the Sea Snake and this is something you don’t have. Something precious to the Empire, yet dangerous to this Empire. If you are so certain Dion and she are plotting against our laws, then I shall dismantle their plans with all the power I possess as the Emperor. If I had not given the word you can act without most of my permission, you'd have nothing but a voice and a womb to warm my bed. Remember this.” 

When he walked out, Anabella fell on the floor of their chambers, caressing her belly out of comfort for herself. Fights with Sylvestre were rare, almost invisible, but whenever they happened, Anabella would shiver in fear to get herself out of the Castle. And that was why she needed to secure her position. She would be nothing if her pretty face got out of Oriflamme’s castle. And her foes would come to her, in the blink of an eye. 

She would not realize it, but Anabella was on the verge of death. All of her actions in the past decade drove her right to the edge of getting herself into the arms of the Reaper. Yet, the Empress remained confident in herself. 

If that meant she would have to scheme. 

She would. 

DION 

He caressed Terence’s back, gently pressing his forehead against his as they both shared a heated kiss. His lips were soft against the smooth ones of the brown-haired boy. They were dancing this way for an hour, and it had been on occasion that Dion finally made it to Terence. Due to his duty, he could not beforehand : and that would've been more suspicious, so he kept it quiet until noise would calm itself. Sweat ran down their skin, but the sun striked against it with such force, it made it almost useless to wipe it off. “Are you sure, my Liege ? It is dangerous for you to go down this way, I know we both care for that woman. But, is it really reasonable to risk this all for her sake ?” asked Terence innocently. 

Dion made them roll, and got over his core. Terence looked at him in awe. Sure, he was envious of what the folks whispered about his Prince and the noble woman, he wanted to be at her place. But this, in their society, wasn’t allowed. Therefore, he had to bear with it and be the third wheel of the carriage. Until times were better for them to come out as lovers. Or at least, that was what Terence hoped for. “We both will drown if we fail this, I must admit, my dear. However, I need her to have a getaway from my father and awful stepmother, if things were to go south during our absence. She will be on her own to defend herself. Her brother won’t be here, same goes with the one she loves and our own selves. This is only a concern of mine.” Dion kissed from his lips to his collarbones, embracing him with his hands. Terence sighed. 

“She remains Leviathan. She’s capable of defending herself, is she not ? You told me she threatened to drown these Dragoons who mistreated her brother and his Lordship Sir Rosfield. Isn't it enough to make her safe?” Dion shook his head negatively in answer, whilst Terence decided to give up in retaliation. “Leviathan or not, she isn’t one woman army. She could not survive against the Bearers and even just the knights. She would eventually exhaust herself or lose control. If she does so, the whole city will drown like Erysea back in time. And she would get killed in the process, like her predecessor. I cannot bear with the loss of a friend, and of my people.” 

Swift, Dion made it under the covers, and all that happened ever since were slight moans engulfed under his hand, and Terence seeing stars as the Warrior of Light continued to make him reach for the heavens itselves. This little roundabout lasted for a while, before Dion had to make haste again to the palace, wandering around. He crossed with Anabella, but none said a word if not a rapid and emotionless greeting. The blond man made it to his bath, cleansing his body to become presentable. 

Until night came, he remained there, needing to be aware of the back and forth movements of the castle’s ladies. Assuring himself some would not discover what he was about to do, else, would probably get him into trouble Dion didn’t want to face. 

Mostly when that would land onto Terence, he knew Anabella would not think twice before whispering like an hag to his father, to get to things and people that were the closest to him. To make him speak. But Bahamut whispered to him to remain confident and calm. 

After all, he was Sanbreque’s champion. 

DYANNE 

She almost could not believe her eyes. This paper, this handwritten piece of paper in her very hands. She tried reading between the lines. But Dyanne just couldn’t. She shivered down her spine and didn’t come to her senses before a certain time. She waited here for three whole hours like a mouse in a cage. Then, she made haste to get ready and controlled herself to not run in the throne room again. That was the routine for four years : the throne room, meeting, going back, days of boredom, and then it’d happen on and on again. 

But this, this was something else. She thought she could escape. But this matter seemed much more personal than any of the things she went through. Even Sir Elwin never asked her to do such. And, Dyanne remained embarrassed by the request of the Emperor. 

“By sunset, make it to my chambers. We need to discuss matters we can’t in the throne room.” 

Her heart bumped again when her eyes laid on the black ink. Her long white and gold dress was worn, her hair was braided and she didn’t put makeup on if not a pink-ish coloured mixture on her cheeks to make her more youthful and less sickened by the twisting sensation in her stomach. Last time she had heard such, it was when her mother’s sister got asked a proposal by some horrible fat lord way too old for her age. And Dyanne feared that. 

That was the risk to a noblewoman, moreover, a maiden. 

He won’t do harm, that old wench, pronounced Leviathan. 

“Watch how you speak of him.” 

As if he would hear me. The only one who could be Bahamut. And only if you’d let him so. 

She wasn’t some trophy wife. 

Her hand knocked against the white wooden door, before opening it. She then saw Sylvestre, proud and dominating the whole room. Just as she thought. “Have a seat at the end of my table, Lady Dyanne.” 

She executed herself, doing as she was told. She began to pick her nails, almost making herself bleed in the process. “I am sorry my Liege, may I ask what’s the matter you wanted to discuss in private?” her heart pounded in her chest, yet, she wanted to get ready for this and get it done as fast as possible. Sylvestre went to join her, on her opposite, a glass of wine in his hand. He asked his maid to pour some in hers, and then asked for her departure. “It is about the fuss of yesterday, near the Docks where the Deccan is moored. And also, my son, Dion.” 

She gleaned her eyes slightly, as she took a sip of wine just after he did. her leg shaking under the table. “I shall apologize, I do not get very well with the fact my brother is now a Branded, and the grief is… Big. Dion did and said nothing, but only warned the guard who slapped my hand to be wary of his sake, if I ever dare to speak against him.” Sylvestre chuckled. That was cute of her, moving even. How she jumped on defending Sanbreque’s champion. “Whilst I understand your grief, you can't be this aggressive towards our protectors. They are also yours, by having your presence between our walls. You are sure, a political hostage, but also our guest. And as such, I shall make sure of the comfort of both my men and yourself. Anabella wanted to throw you in the dungeons for that. You are lucky I wish otherwise.” 

She lowered her head in thanks. “I shall be grateful for your mercy, my Emperor. Though, I do not understand how merciful you are to me, and what brings you to the conclusion I deserve another chance.” 

Sylvestre made his wine twirl in his cup. “This makes me go to the next subject : your lovership with Dion. I heard you two had gone close since your arrival, to my delight. I wish to see our champion contend. This is why I am thinking of a betrothal. You’re a maiden, and have been coveted for a long time by the noblelords of this town. Firstly, I thought about making an arranged marriage between you and another lord of my troops, but it seems to draw itself as Dion and you instead. Therefore, I excuse him for his behaviour yesterday, as he was just worried for the woman he loves. As any man would. But, I would gladly ask you to drift him away from your own shenanigans.”

She retained a gasp to leave her lips. Thus, Sylvestre also believed that she and Dion were… ? 

It’s revolting to have such luck, Dyanne.

“Is it really time for you to speak out?” 

“The guard who slapped you has been executed since. So, he shall not speak further of you and Dion. Do not stain your reputation. On the otherhand, I need an heir, and the eldest being Dion, I need him to marry as of now.” 

She cleared her throat. “Does his Grace have a word of this?” Sylvestre turned around. “Does he need to? I shall speak to him of this later on, my biggest preoccupation was you. You are sweet, calm, demure even. A maiden. Dominant. A fitting match for my son, therefore I see no objection from him to wed you.” 

He got up his chair, before walking towards Dyanne as she finished her cup. Hands joined together in an almost prayer. “You can dispose. I ask you to keep yourself minuscule for a couple days. This wedding won’t happen in the blink of an eye, due to Dion’s absence. And, also, the Dhamelkian Empire’s threats. But, at least, it is a clean slate.” 

Dyanne quitted her seat, bowing to the Emperor, waiting for his signal to turn around. She felt her eyes watering despite herself. But a simple nod sufficed her. The brunette almost ran out the room, before precipitating herself towards Dion’s. She did not take notice of the young maiden that walked nearby the Emperor’s room. 

Not this again, 

She did not want to give allegiance to Sanbreque, to allow herself to lose Rosaria as her home. To give an heir to Dion. To be just someone’s wife. It was all different with Clive. She was in love with him, and she knew he’d treat her well. That she could be herself. She did not want to be just an appendage to attend the one she’d wed. She liked Dion, but she appreciated him as she appreciated Darius. Only as a brother of hers. A spiritual one. 

All of this was getting out of hand. 

Pushing the doors, Dion jumped backwards at the sounding noise she had made, before witnessing the tears in Dyanne’s eyes. She closed behind her, in haste. she then pressed on to grab him by his shoulders, as the blond man remarked the reddened marks on her thin fingers. “What’s the matter ? Take your breath, Dyanne, take your breath.” 

“I don’t want this.” she had whispered between two ached aspirations. 

“Don’t want what?” 

“I don’t fucking want this. I want to be home. I want to go home. I want it to go back to how it was. I want Elwin, Joshua, Clive, Hydrean Hill, Darius and my parents.” 

Getting her seated on his couch, he made her lay on him, waiting for Dyanne to be calmer. To ease her worries. He did not know what was up with the noblelady, but he felt Bahamut telling him to dig deeper. “I know Dyanne, I know…” He reassured her as he rocked her in his arms. “Now, tell me what’s the matter so I can ease your pains.” 

“Your father summoned me to his chambers. To talk about private matters. About what happened yesterday.” Dion faded, his milk skin becoming even whiter as it already was. “And so? What did he say?” 

She took a certain time to catch her breath. Dion wiping off the tears from her cheeks. “That hag wants me in the dungeons, and your father desires to betroth us. I don’t want this Dion, I love you, but just like I see my brother. I can’t have the thought of being an asset to Sanbreque whilst they’ve taken my home for their own pleasure. I can’t think of that. I can-...” He hushed her, pushing her face against his own chest, in retaliation, Dyanne let herself cry. 

Dion could barely think of himself. He did not want to get married, he did not desire whatsoever to be taking a wife. He only thought of Terence, his reaction if he ever had to… No. No. And, he could not give an heir. The mere thought of putting his hands on Dyanne, made him want to throw up. Indeed, himself was seeing her as a sibling only. 

“Did he tell you a date for the betrothal?” 

“No, he did not. He said it could wait until you come back from the Deccan’s, and let the threats of the Dhamelkian’ ease before attempting anything.” 

“Thus, we still have time.” 

He ran his fingers down her hair. “I promise I will do everything I can to avoid that. Wait for me to come to your room, at nightfall.” 

But he already knew what he would do. 

< PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER >