#If i was brave i would add my voice note

[tenderlyhands]

Am I destined to be alone? Was I born without the parts to love?

[coralinnii]

‧₊˚✧ Everything Stays, Right Where You Left It ‧₊˚✧

↳ meeting once again after you returned home

feat: Azul ❋ Jamil ❋ Sebek ❋ Jade genre: hurt/comfort, romance note: no pronouns used with the reader, speculations of how Yuu/reader returns home are all theoretical (no canon timeline is confirmed at this time), established relationships, happy ending, a nickname for reader was used in Jamil ver.,

I didn’t add a quote or “voice line” like my typical headcanons/scenarios posts because it felt unnatural to this vibe.

Song suggestion: Everything Stays by Olivia Olson (Adventure Time)

You broke your own heart saying goodbye to him. Whether he begged you to stay or reluctantly let you go, the overwhelming pain burned deep in his soul when he saw your figure disappear into the mirror, to where he couldn't reach you anymore.

Time waits for no man and he has to keep going, without you by his side.

But then, just as mysteriously as before, you appeared once more before him, beautiful as the day you left.

“I missed you…”

Such an unfortunate soul, he first thought. A fish out of water, so far away from anything or anyone you knew, Azul hoped you would find comfort in him, for a price of course.

But you surprised him with your unyielding character, quick adaptability and eagerness to keep Azul on his toes. You were a tricky customer who threw him for a loop, and he became ever grateful you did. Friendly competition and cheeky comments became shy smiles and soon longing embraces.

But your efforts to find clues to your mysterious arrival to Twisted Wonderland bore fruit, and you were able to find a way to open a portal to return home. But you weren’t sure what was going to happen once you crossed that portal. You may have to say goodbye…forever.

This was a deal he just couldn’t make, the cards were against him. Azul would have bargained with every morsel under his name just to keep you in Twisted Wonderland, with him.

But there was a chance for you to finally return home, back to where you had a whole life before being whisked into this magical world. You had no regrets coming to this world, meeting Azul, and eventually loving him, but you couldn’t abandon your old life, without even an explanation.

Azul understood that, he truly did. So he used the last moments he still had with you to give you an experience you could never forget, so you could never forget him. At least Azul could let you go without regrets.

But still, on the night of your departure, muffled cries could be heard through the walls of the merman’s bedroom. He thought he could put on a brave face for you as you made your way to the mirror, but he still had tears left to shed as your figure finally disappeared from his sight, out of his reach.

It took so long for him to change his routine since you left. He had to squash that yearning part of himself that kept hoping you would suddenly walk through the doors of Mostro Lounge and give him that warm smile that melts his stress away.

Sometimes he wakes up, reaching out to your warmth on his bed only to see the vacant space in his too-large bed. For a creature from the icy waters, he felt so unbearingly cold since your departure.

The fateful reunion

He was almost over you, ready to move on with his life after 2 years since your farewell. He was off to complete his independent study for his final year when he heard news of the Dark Mirror lighting up one random day and a mysterious figure fell out from its glass.

When he returned to the campus, Azul had to weave your old friends and other curious students around you in your old Ramshackle dorm, but when your eyes met his, his eyes lit up as though it finally came to life once more. You looked a little older and all the more beautiful, Azul almost fell to his knees in disbelief.

Nervously, you walked towards your former lover with a glint of fear in your eyes. 2 years may not mean much in the long run but it was still plenty for the merman to forget you, a piece of his life perhaps best left behind. But still, lost in his blue eyes, as deep as the ocean he hails from, you whispered the thoughts you had the moment you stepped back into your world.

“I missed you, Azul.”

Swift as a wave, strong arms wrapped around you as you pulled into an ever-familiar embrace. Soft curls tickled your face as the bespectacled man pressed his face into your shoulder. Despite being hidden away from watching eyes, you could hear his sniffles as he cried in the comfort of your arms.

But you soon joined him as the rush of emotions rushed within you, your control crumbling apart when you heard the soft plea Azul whispered into your skin, words he kept locked away all these years.

“Please…don’t leave me.”

You were like him in a way. Trapped in a situation you didn’t decide yourself, forced to adapt and live with the cards given to you. To put aside your feelings of helplessness and laugh, like a smiling genie stuck confined to a tiny lamp.

What was first pity became a bond from a kinship to an affectionate fondness for one another. The two of you even joked about traveling the world some day, just to give each other that chance to feel free together.

But by chance Crowley found a way for you to return home, a choice to free yourself from your bizarre predicament. Suddenly, Jamil felt even lonelier than he has ever thought possible.

Then, Jamil couldn’t help but laugh to himself. Of course, anything that he desired could never be his. What was he thinking? He should have known something as amazing as you was too good to be true.

An expert liar, he congratulated you on such a fortuitous event. He wore his well-crafted smile as he told you how glad he was for you to return home, to gain the freedom the two of you dreamed of.

A man trained as a servant, Jamil knew how to push down his selfish thoughts, even when you knew that he wasn’t being truthful with his words.

Great Sevens, he loved you for knowing him so well. He loved you so much that he convinced you to go home, as no one knew if such an opportunity would ever come again. This time, he was truly happy to ignore his selfish desires, if it’s for you.

But even Kalim, for as oblivious as he can be sometimes, knew to leave Jamil alone in his room that day when he shared one last kiss with you before you disappeared behind the magical mirror.

The fateful reunion

It’s been 2 years since Jamil and Kalim graduated from Night Raven College, 5 years since either of them saw you since your departure, since he last felt whole.

The first few years, Kalim tried to cheer his childhood friend, offering words of comfort and even hoped that perhaps you would return someday. You magically came here before, who’s to say it won’t happen again?

The well-meaning Asim heir only stopped mentioning you when Jamil lost his composure one night, screaming at him to stop making him hope for something so impossible. To Jamil, what hurts him more than you leaving him was losing hope that you could come back someday.

Since that day, Kalim did his best not to mention your name near the long-haired man in fear of opening old wounds.

Which is why Jamil was confused when the snow-haired heir called him during his overseas trip, urging him to return to Silk City immediately.

“Jamil, you gotta come back! It happened!”

Jamil’s heart beat hard against his chest, the long buried hope he tried to crush came back, fueling his body to run towards the fastest route back to his hometown. His pessimistic logic demanded him to lower his expectations but that childish longing in him begged him to run faster.

There, inside the Asim family’s large room, you stood there in the middle of the room surrounded by lavish walls and decor. The room was filled with luxurious ornaments and bright colors, but Jamil could only see you and your beautiful face with eyes as mesmerizing as he remembered in his dreams.

“Jamil…I-“

Before you could fully speak, the usually collected man ran to you without restraint as he encased you in his arms, as though he feared this to be a cruel mirage. His selfishness bled through as he held you closer than he ever had with anyone, his racing heart could be felt between you two.

“I missed you, habibti.”

Being with Sebek was like an adventure. A man with such vigor and determination towards life gave you the motivation to go through this strange new world the same way. You didn’t know if you could never return home but what good was it to give up on being happy?

What started off as admiration turned to fondness, then after an awkward period of confusing feelings, the two of you started a meaningful relationship. Sebek was insistent on formally courting you with the intentions of marrying you, but you told him you’d marry him with a paper ring. Sebek expressed feelings of indignation but the flush of his ears said otherwise.

But hidden in old fae books locked away in the royal libraries, Lilia found stories of people who came to this world seemingly the same way as you…with a way to send you back. It would have been impossible to gather enough magical energy to return you to your original world, but Malleus was the only one capable of accomplishing this feat. For his dear friend and his trusted guard’s beloved, he would gladly do this grand favor.

How…fortunate you are.

Sebek was stunned silent over this revelation. He should be happy, shouldn’t he? Despite your smiles and laughs, he knew the days where you would look out in a daze, lost in your feelings of homesickness. He told himself that he would give you everything if he could, no matter the pain it may occur to him…

Malleus gave the two of you time to discuss amongst yourselves and you could see your green-haired lover mentally fighting with himself. That was fair, you too were emotionally split over this information.

With a heavy heart, Sebek chose to let you go. He feared that if he were to speak his desires, someday you would grow to resent him for holding onto you. You told him otherwise but all of your arguments lead to the same conclusion, you needed to return home.

With tear-filled eyes, Sebek watched as you were engulfed with his liege’s magic, a blinding glow wrapping around you like a chrysalis. Though he denies it, he was grateful for Silver’s comforting hand on his shoulder as he broke down to his knees, a burning pain in his chest and the stinging of his tears cascading down his face.

The fateful reunion

The years were good to him, after 10 years he became what he always dreamed to be, a recognized guard of the royal family, under his magnanimous king.

With the advice of Lilia, the grown half-fae decided to keep a journal with records of his accomplishments and struggles, everything he wished he could tell you. Perhaps in hopes that he could one day share his life with you, or perhaps simply a way to keep his spirits up since your departure.

Sebek is not usually the one to dwell too much in the past, rather the type to look towards the future. But on occasion, he catches himself lost in his thoughts over his moments with you whenever he comes across something that reminds him of you, which were a lot of things.

He tried to kick this habit, as it was troubling for a guard to get so easily distracted, especially if he was meant to guard his king with his life. Eventhough Malleus, Lilia, and Silver were understanding over his situation, Sebek chastised his unprofessional behavior.

Even now, he was angry with himself when he sees a mysterious figure walking towards him at the castle’s gate under this heavy downpour. For a moment, he froze over how familiar this figure was, who walked uncannily similarly to the way you did, long ago.

Shaking this thought away, Sebek demanded this suspicious figure to stop before stepping any closer to the castle’s gate.

“Reveal yourself! Lest you prepare to meet my spear!”

“Sebek?”

Your voice struck him like lightning, stunned him in his post as flashes of the past rushed through him. You cautiously stepped closer, Sebek finally able to see your face under the castle’s lights. Like him, you grew considerably since he last saw you, but still as enchanting as that fateful day, even when you were drenched in the pouring weather.

With a whisper of your name, Sebek unceremoniously tossed his weapon to the muddy ground as he forsaken his position to run to you. Closing you in his arms, he could smell that comforting scent of you even in the drenching rain. Your warm body soothed his own as he shared a deep kiss with you under the rain, a decade of his longing finally rushing out in this unbelievable miracle that was you.

“I missed you, for so long.”

Jade was certainly curious about you. You reminded him of an old famous tale in his hometown, of a young mermaid who found herself in a world that was nothing like her own. He found amusement in you as you gasped and floundered over the myriad of magical possibilities that were a mere commodity in Twisted Wonderland. How adorable you were, he thought.

Fascination replaced curiosity and soon infatuation came into play. Eventually, Jade has come to enjoy your company more than anyone else’s, and he had to maintain a steady smile when you confessed your mutual feelings for him.

But when the Dark Mirror announced that a portal to your world has opened once more, he found difficulty in keeping his practiced smile. His otherworldly lover has a chance to return home, leaving him behind.

The eel merman was grateful for your attempts to comfort him, telling him that you could refuse this offer. You entertained the thought that perhaps the portal will appear once more at a later date, to diminish the significance of this opportune chance.

But Jade is no fool, he never was. No matter how happy you were with him, he recognises the wistful looks when a reminder of your old world is brought up. While he revels in the stories you joyfully regaled him of your past, he can hear the soft sighs under your breath and the melancholic smile upon your lips.

What was that phrase land-dwellers are so fond of? “If you love something, set it free.”

Jade never knew he could love someone as much he did with you, he didn't think he would ever do this for anyone. How amazing you are, it seems.

Jade loved you enough to let you go. He loved you enough to hold you as you cried through your broken goodbyes. He loved you just enough to finally let go of your hand as your figure disappeared into the magical glass.

And Floyd and Azul loved him enough to delegate his vice housewarden duties as he holed himself in his terraturim collection for days after your departure.

The fateful reunion

1 year has passed and while there have been some changes, there are things that stayed the same. Though now third years, Jade maintained his position as Octavinelle’s vice housewarden, by Azul’s side.

As such, his presence was appreciated in the Hall of Mirrors as new students filled the room, anxiously waiting for their dorm sorting. While this was a grand occasion for many young mages, Jade doubts that anything can outdo the unorthodox events that happened a year ago, when you appeared.

He couldn’t help but chuckled to himself when he recalled the ruckus you and Grim made, the reckless beast yelling out such amusing things.

“MY HENCHHUMAN IS BACK!”

Oh my, speak of the devil.

Grim, much stronger than he was before, burst through the heavy doors as he ran about with fat tears soaking the fur on his face. The notorious Heartslabyul duo tried to grab hold of the rambunctious creature but nothing could quell the ball of fur.

Hasty footsteps were heard as a figure came rushing in soon after, seemingly chasing the bawling Grim. Upon your appearance, the row of gasps and shouts echoed through the room, specifically from the older students and the faculty.

Jade felt a rush of emotion crashing into him. As a desperate measure, he tried to forget your face lest he wished to stay haunted by your image through restless nights. But there you stood looking as beautiful as the day he lost you.

Cautiously, he walked towards you like a wary eel. If this was a cruel trick, he will not be merciful towards anyone who believes they can play with a Leech’s heart.

But when your gaze matched his, he felt the world start once more, as though it fell to a stop the moment you disappeared. Your expressive eyes were the same beautiful sight he fell in love with, even when lined with building tears.

“Jade,” you whispered in disbelief. “I missed you so much”

With quick movement, Jade pulled you into him as he engulfed himself in the joy he’s feeling. Your touch, your voice, your scent, it’s all back.

What was that phrase land-dwellers are so fond of? “If it returns, it was meant to be.”

[alexa-fika]

Whatever you do is going to be good anyway

But the scenario am picturing is in Marineford

Winged Reader is with Mihawk and he's hiding but during the chaos he finds himself hiding in the Whitebeards ship

And when they save Ace the escape with Mihawk's son And they try to help him go back to Mihawk

But if you want to change anything that's okay

🐼💕~

Enemies yesterday, Babysitters today ( Whitebeard pirates x male!oDracule!child!reader)

A/N: Okay yall I honestly might revisit this later and add more wholesomeness to it cause im not completely content with the level it has right now, but you tell me does it make you kick your feet?

Dividers by @/saradika

“Gurararara Ace, how are you feeling?”

"Doing good pops, still mad my jolly Roger got erased,” he grumbles

“We can do the tattoo Again; just be glad you are only missing that and not your life; you were almost a goner there.” Marco sighs

“Fair enough, still stings when I look in the mirror, though,” he mumbles

A crash sounds across the ship as what sounds like boxes and a scream echo from the storage room of the Moby Dick

“We might have a stowaway…” Marco notes

“Is it one of the bastards from Marineford?” Jozu growls, activating his devil fruit

“Be Careful, Jozu, we do not know who we are dealing with here,” Izou says, pulling out his guns

“Don’t even think about it, Sir; you are still healing,” One of the nurses comments, looking towards Whitebeard, who grunts in response

“We’ll handle it, pops; I don’t mind a little exercise; I’m bored, and if it is one of the bastards, I need to let out some steam,” he says, walking towards the storage room; the rest of the commanders, following behind him

“Whoever they are, they should be able to hold their own if they managed to make it on board,” Thatch says, his eyes lighting up with a twinkle.

“I wonder what they would be doing in the storage, though…”

“It’s probably a marine stowaway; probably best to show him some rough treatment,” Vista says as he smirks, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

“Come on out.” He calls our

Ace kicks the door open.

“Alright, whoever you are, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Ace says, grinning

“If they don’t answer, then we’ll have to find them ourselves,” Marco says as he begins to activate his power

Ace walks ahead and peeks into the corner where the commotion could be heard from, and he stills, making gestures to their fellow commanders to lower their weapons as he kneels down

“Ace, be careful; a wounded man is still a threat, especially the ones trying to hide,” Marco states as walking next to the second commander

“Don’t lower your…guard.” he stops glancing at their stowaway

“Pop’s is going to love this one,” he mutters, turning back to the rest of the commanders

“It’s a kid”

“What, is this someone’s kid? A stray?” Izou questions, looking down at the stowaway

Reader glances between all the men staring him down, inching back and trying to make himself smaller, covering himself with his wings

“Kid, what brings you here ?” Ace says with a soft voice,

“How were you able to get on board? How long have you been hiding for?” Ace says as he sits on his knees to meet the kid's height, looking at him directly in his eyes

Reader glances at Ace for a second but lowers his face and tries to dig himself deeper into his caccoon between his wings

“He's scared, a very brave kid, that one, I would be too if I was in this situation.” He says, smiling kindly at the stowaway,

“Hey, it's ok, you're safe now.”

“Wait.. you’re, you're the kid that was with Hawkeye when we were dueling,” Vista states, taking a closer look at the winged child

Reader looks up at that

“You know, Dad?” He mumbles

“Oh yes, yes, we know who he is,” Vista answers as he gets on his knees beside Ace.

“What are you doing on this ship, kid? You know this isn’t the type of lifestyle for someone as young as you?”

He unfurls himself from His wings slightly

“I -I left the raft. Dad told me to stay on the raft no matter what, but I thought he was going to get hurt, and then Uncle Shanks came, and I got scared they were going to fight again,” he rambles on

“I think we finally have the story here. That sounds like an adventurous kid,” Ace says, rubbing his brow in thinking

“A bit brave and reckless, too,” he adds on

“He’s definitely got a good head on his shoulders,” Izou says approvingly of the boy

“Okay, you ended up on the battlefield because you got scared for your father, but how did you end up here in the Moby Dick.” Inquires Marco, looking down at him

“Everything was confusing; there was so much going on, so umm, I kinda ended up here..”

“Aww, Kid, we’ve all been through times like that; I’m sure your father will be grateful you at least took the initiative to get to him,” Thatch says with a smile.

“But, you can’t just board a pirate’s ship and expect them to be kind; you might not be as lucky next time,” he says, kneeling down in front of him

Marco sighs

“let’s bring him out to Pops; we’ll talk about what we’ll do from there.”

“Yes, I think that’s enough questions for now; I don’t think this kid needs a full-on interrogation just yet,” Vista adds.

Reader gets up hesitantly and approaches Vista, stretching his up, opening and closing his hands

Vista chuckles, lifting the child and putting him on his hip

“Are you really Hawkeyes kid?”

He nods

“Are you friends with Dad?”

“Not exactly…I mean, we know each other and have fought before…” Vista trails off, slightly unsure of what he wants to say

“There’s…mutual respect between us, but we have found ourselves on opposite sides on the battlefield.” he says, mulling over his words, trying to define their relationship best not to alarm the small child.”

“Regardless, we will help you return to your father; do not worry.” Ace states

“What are your names?”

“I am Vista of the Flower Swords”

He gestures at the group

Portgas D. Ace.”

“Jozu of the Diamond”

“Marco the Phoenix”

“Thatch, Head of the Ships Cooks

Flintlock Pistols Izou.”

“Geez, Vista, No need to be so formal.” Thatch sighs

Reader smiles, his wings flapping happily behind him

“Im Dracule Reader, umm Reader from Papa!”

“Reader? What an interesting name for a little boy.” Izou says with a slight chuckle

“This is Pops, Whitebeard, the captain of this ship,” Vista says, walking in front of said man

Reader awes at the man fluttering out of Vista’s hold and up to Whitebeard

“You’re big! You’re bigger than the humandrills at home!” He says, circling around him

“I was wondering who was making that ruckus; what brings this brat here,” he says, glancing at the flying boy

“He said his name was Reader, Dracule Reader,” Marco said, glancing up at both

“Dracule? What is your relation to Hawkeye?”

“That’s Papa!”

“Hawkeye is your father?” He says, looking over to Marco, who nods

“Vista confirmed it; he saw this one lingering around the battlefield close to Hawkeye.”

“That is correct, pops; the little one is Hawkeye's son,” he says proudly, pointing at Reader

“We found him hiding in the storage room.” Marco clarified

“He said he followed his father into the battlefield but lost him in the heat of the battle,” Vista says, explaining the circumstances as to how Reader found his way to Whitebeard's crew

“I see, in that case, Bring me a Den Den Moshi,” Whitebeard says to one of the nurses next to him

“We’ll get into contact with your father.”

“You’ll help me get back? But Mister Vista of the Flower swords said you were fighting with Dad.”

“Yes, your father and we are on opposite sides; however, your father was just following orders from the Marines, and regardless if he was an enemy or not, you are not. I know the pain of losing a son,” he says, glancing at Ace

“Because I know the pain, I do not wish it upon anyone right now; this is not between enemies but between fathers. You were not involved in the fight, and as such, there is no need for you to suffer from it,” he grunts as the nurses bring him the Den-Den Mushi

Reader’s lip quivers

“Thank you!”

“You’re safe now, kid; we’re going to call your dad and let him know you’re safe; once we do, we can arrange somewhere to meet. You’re lucky you picked the right ship to stow away on, kid,” Marco says

“I’m sure your father is worried sick trying to find you. Don’t worry; we’ll make the arrangements to get you back to your dad,” Thatch says with a smile

Reader flies down to to where the commenders stood

“Thank you, Marco, the Phoenix and Thatch head of ship cooks.”

Marco chuckles at this

“Vista, this is why I said not to be so formal! Oi kid, no need for titles.” Thatch groans out

“Is Thatch head of the ships cooks not your name? But Vista of the flower swords said those were your names?”

Thatch chuckles

” You’re something else, kid; I like you.”

“Ah?” He tilts his head, confused

“I can see you are going to be quite the handful; Vista told you our names and Epithets, surnames in Ace’s case; you don’t need to call me Flintlock Pistols Izou; you can just call me Izou,” he comments, chuckling, along with the other commanders

”Izou’s right; we all have titles or epithets; you’ve got a good head on you, kid; how about you give it a try,” the chef said, gesturing to himself

“Umm, Thatch Cooks?”

“Cooks? Now I’m not sure if you’re messing with me or not,” he laughs

“Not quite that; try again, just one word,” he says while trying to hold back his laughter

“Thatch?”

“That’s right, see, not so hard you’re already learning.” he laughs and ruffles his head

He beams at the compliment and glances at Vista

“Vista?”

“Haha, that’s my name, kid,” he says.

“Well done!” he exclaims happily, picking him up once again and placing him on his shoulders

Joyous giggles escape the small boy, holding onto his head and flapping his wings occasionally to keep balance until he picks up the sound of the Den Den Mushi ringing and a familiar voice coming through

“Hawkeye,” Whitebeard calls curtly

“What do you want, Shirohige? If this concerns the recent battle, I really do not have time-

“It’s about your son; he is here.”

Mihawk falls silent for a moment

“What?”

“Your son stowed away on the Moby Dick; he said he was trying to escape the head of the battle and ended up in my ship.”

“Where are you?”

“We are approaching Sabaody Archipelago.”

“Very well. I will be there shortly.”

“We’ll be waiting for you,” he said, hanging up and glancing toward the child

“He will meet us at the next Island.”

Reader can’t help but laugh with relief, glad that they will see their father soon

Vista chuckles

“You’re in a better mood than you were when we first discovered you now, aren’t you?”

He nods

“Im gonna see Dad again!”

“You sure are; you just have to stick with us, and we’ll ensure you get to him safe and sound,” Ace exclaims

“Okay!”

Vista smiles, taking off his iconic hat and placing it over the child

They giggle as the hat envelops them, and he raises it slightly to take a small peek and be able to see

Ace smiles at the gesture, happy to see the kid smile after the traumatic ordeal he’s been through

“Glad you are in a better mood,” Ace grins, ruffling Reader’s hair

“That’s good to hear, kid; I’m happy as well,” Marco adds, giving the kid’s hat a little pat before pulling it back down to cover them

They shriek cheerfully as they are once again enveloped by the hat

“Gurararara, We’ve got ourselves a live one; didn't get that from your father, that’s for sure.” he grinned as the ship pulled up to the Archipelago; it was still dark out but slowly beginning to become morning in the distance

“Hm? Isin’t that Hawkeye over there?” Thatch comments, squinting his eyes to a small raft that slowly approached the Moby Dick

“Let’s not get too close to the raft; let him approach us,” Izou says, looking towards the raft

“He won’t try anything, not with his son here, and Im sure even someone like him can tell when he is outnumbered with all of our commanders and pops here Marco says, leaning against the railing and staring at the approaching raft

Ace approaches the railing, trying to get a better view of the raft, looking to make out the figure at the front

“It is him.”

“Dad?” The small child says, peeking out from under the hat again

“Dad!” He exclaims, taking off towards the approaching raft, ignoring the calls from the pirates as he barrels into Mihawk, hugging him tightly, tears pooling in his eyes as he apologizes repeatedly.

“I’m sorry, Dad; you told me to stay in the raft, but I thought you would get hurt, and I just caused more trouble for you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he cries

Mihawk stands frozen for a second, taken back by his son’s words

“No. Your apology is unnecessary. The fault lies in me for leaving you alone. What’s important is that you are back with me now.” he says, embracing him

“Look, I require you to stay by my side from now on, okay? No more running off by yourself.” Mihawk says as the raft gradually comes closer to the Moby Dick.

He nods his head vigorously, the hat too big for his head, wobbling around at the movement

Mihawk glances up at the hat and raises an eyebrow mutely, questioning his child

“It’s Mister Vista’s”

“Is that so?” he says, glancing up at the Moby Dick, spotting said man along with the commanders and Whitebeard himself leaning against the railing, watching father and son

Whitebeard’s gaze slowly falls upon Mihawk.

“You’ve got yourself a handful there, Hawkeye. But I must say, it’s good to see someone capable of putting the past behind them; such is the innocence of childhood.”

“Indeed, it is something that I have sworn myself to protect at all cost,” he says, looking back upon his son

“We meet Again, Hawkeye,” Vista says, grinning at the swordsman

“It seems we do, Vista of the Flower Swords; you have my gratitude for taking care of my son

“It was my pleasure; he is definitely something special, though,” he says with a chuckle

“Let us finish the fight we put on hold the next time we see each other; I anxiously wait to see who will come on top; the promise of that is enough payment for me.”

“Then so it shall be; the next time we encounter, we will let our blades finish what they started,” he said, preparing to return home with his son

“Ah, wait!” He said, flying back to the Moby Dick and gently placing Vista’s hat on his head once again

“Thank you, Mister Vista, thank you, everyone; I hope I can see you again! I had fun!”

“You’ll be seeing me again someday, kid, so make sure you do all you can to get stronger,” he says, lowering the child to the ground, ruffling his hair

“You’re going to make quite a fine pirate someday,” Vista laughs, ruffling the boy’s hair. “now get on back to your father and get some rest; this was a big day for you.”

“And don’t worry, kid, all of you are always welcome on my ship; just make sure next time to board it the proper way and not as a stowaway,” Whitebeard says with a broad smile

“I couldn’t agree more. Don’t be a stranger, kid!” Ace says to the pair as he watches over the kid

“You’re lucky it was us you picked to stow away with, kid; you have nothing to worry about from us,” Marco adds, ruffling Reader’s head

Whitebeard’s gaze falls upon the two once again as they bid their farewells to the kid

Future parts with Uncle shanks? Or Maybe Whitebeard pirates babysitting?

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

[primofate]

“Can I date Y/N, please?” [Genshin Impact - Diluc and Kaeya’s sibling edition]

Summary: In which your potential Genshin lover asks your Genshin sibling(s) if he can date you.

Characters: Diluc and Kaeya as your brothers, Aether, Albedo, Venti, Bonus: Tartaglia, gn!reader

Notes: There was a similar request a while ago but for the volleyball AU, I might do that or I might not but what are your thoughts on this brand new brainrot I have? I felt like I just needed a change of pace about what I write, needed something platonic-ish but also cute and funny??? idk. These days I feel like my genre is changing a little, or I just need a break from romance.

Warnings: crack elements, fluff, overprotective siblings, alcohol consumption, Diluc and Kaeya are civil towards each other, complicated deception in Tartaglia’s part, I only mixed and matched certain characters cause I thought those would be particularly interesting, some are longer than the others cause I enjoyed writing it more.

Your brothers: Diluc & Kaeya

Who wants to date you: Aether

“Relaaaaaaax, you’ve fought a giant dragon before, this is nothing!” Easy for Paimon to say, Aether thinks. Not for him, when he was going to ask Diluc and Kaeya for their blessings to date you. The Kaeya part, not too bad. The Diluc part...Aether didn’t know what to think. 

“H-Hey, you two! C-Can I talk to you, real quick?” As the night descends Aether finds Diluc and Kaeya outside of the tavern, sharing a table together, like you said they would on Friday nights. 

Kaeya’s eyes light up, tipping his glass of wine over to Aether, delighted that the traveller had decided to join them this evening. “Look who it is,” his voice, smooth as ever glides towards Aether. Diluc glances over to Aether, moves a glass over to the empty seat and curtly says “Take a seat,”

Aether feels a lump on his throat as he sits quite stiffly. Paimon seems to have stiffened up too, her talk of being brave all down the drain. “To what do we owe the pleasure tonight?” Kaeya asks while asking Aether if he wanted wine or grape juice. Aether opted for the wine, feeling as if he needed more liquid courage. 

“Uhhh...” Aether starts, watching as Kaeya poured the wine, eyes darting up to Diluc who was also looking at Aether expectantly. “Well, ummm... nothing major, or dangerous, really...” he lets out a nervous laugh, tips his head as thanks towards Kaeya when he finished pouring and adds, “It’s just...about Y/N,”

Both of your siblings’ heads snap up to attention and in unison they say, “What about them?” Suddenly the fresh air seems to have disappeared despite sitting outdoors and Aether’s hands start to feel a little clammy. It looks as if neither Kaeya nor Diluc breathes, just staring at Aether to continue, blank looks on their faces.

“They...uh...They’re really nice company, you see.” Aether starts, hands coming together on top of the table, eyes darting back and forth towards Diluc then Kaeya. Their blank expressions haven’t changed. 

Aether clears his throat and continues. “And, well, simply said they...They’re really nice, really...” Aether remembers you in his mind’s eye, and for a split moment he looks to be in a trance, thinking of how his heart palpitates just at the sight of you. “Really charming...Y/N is just... so...” he snaps out of his daydream immediately and straightens up again, remembering he’s in front of your siblings and it was not the right time to be dreamy-eyed right now.

But Diluc seemed to have a look of realization on his face, Kaeya chuckles and pours himself another glass of wine. Neither of them say anything, letting the traveller finish his sentence. “...Sorry,” Aether clears his throat again, “I...I’d simply like your permission to date them. Uhm...We’ve been on a few dates already, actually... I just...” Aether averts his eyes when he feels the heat on his cheeks. “I’m serious about Y/N, I just wanted to let you two know,”

There’s a moment of silence, just the sound of Kaeya sipping on his wine and clinking his glass back down on the table, before he spoke up. “Come now, traveller, you don’t think we haven’t noticed?” he grins.

“Huh?” Aether lets out, dumbfounded. 

“Y/N’s been going out more frequently, it isn’t difficult to notice,” Diluc responds, closing his eyes as he takes a sip of his grape juice too. “Besides, the two of you walk around town quite often. I didn’t think it was such a big secret,” 

“O-Oh...” Aether laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head. “S-So, you’re okay with it?”

“Well not so fast there, my friend!” Kaeya seems to be the more jovial one. Seems to be the one who is “okay” with everything, but on closer inspection there’s a glint in his eye, whilst Diluc actually looks calmer and more put together. “Do you really know our Y/N that well? Let’s test your knowledge, shall we?” Kaeya proposes, to which Diluc holds back a sigh. One of his silly games again, it seems.

“Kaeya here might want to test you, traveller...but I have no qualms with your relationship with Y/N......Provided that Y/N’s happy...but you have a lot of things on your hands,” Diluc’s gaze hardened for a split moment, and Aether knew what he was implying. 

Aether’s search for his sister, his journey across nations and his adventuring were all a big part of his life. “Are you sure you have adequate space for Y/N in your life? If not...then I suggest you reconsider,” 

It was more of a threat than anything, but Aether knew where it was coming from. What did he expect, trying to go through your two brothers who seemed like night and day, and yet similarly protective of you? Kaeya cuts the tension with a laugh. “Serious as always. See, all you have to do to get my blessing is to play a game with me, traveller,” 

“Are you two trying to bully Aether?” The three of them swerve towards your voice as you stand there with your hands on your hips, eyes furrowed, shooting a concerned glance towards Aether. “I was getting worried when you didn’t show up at our meeting place,” 

“No such thing,” Kaeya beams at you and Diluc casually shakes his head. “Not at all,” then they went back to drinking their respective drinks. 

You sigh and place a hand on Aether’s shoulder. “I told you, you didn’t have to do this, they’re just going to make your life harder. I can date who I want, you know?” you smile at him reassuringly but Aether laughs nervously, feeling sweat on his temples. 

“Come on, let’s go. Leave these two behind, they’ll get over it!” You insist, tugging on Aether’s sleeve and he complies as you turn to walk away first. 

Aether turns back around to bid your brothers’ goodbye, only to find that they’re sporting rather eerie and perfect grins on their faces. 

“See you around, traveller. Watch your step,” 

Who wants to date you: Albedo

“You want to date Y/N?” The surprise in Kaeya’s voice is obvious. He didn’t think the alchemist was one to be interested in such things, but the fact that he had come out of his lab and visited Kaeya over at his personal office in the Favonius HQ, Kaeya had a feeling that Albedo was more than just interested. 

“Yes,” The blonde replied curtly. Kaeya thought there was more of an explanation, but none followed and it was merely just himself and the alchemist just staring at each other now.

“...Is there...any reason for that?” Kaeya pries, not willing to just say yes so easily when it didn’t even seem like Albedo showed any genuine interest towards you aside from his words. 

“A reason...you say?” Albedo thinks out loud, his hand coming up to rest under his chin. A few seconds pass by and as much as Kaeya respected Albedo and saw him as a good ally, his application to date you wasn’t going very well, until he started speaking again. 

“...Truthfully I don’t understand it very clearly myself,” the Kreidiprinz starts. “It’s a rather peculiar feeling...of wanting Y/N by my side,” Albedo turns away and looks off into a faraway distance. “I enjoy Y/N’s observations, their ramblings, their view on certain things in life...but if you ask me for a logical reason of why I would like to date them...There isn’t one, I suppose it’s more of an emotion than a logical reason. I simply want to spend more time with them, an impossibly, illogically long time. More than I’ve already spent with them.”

Kaeya is rendered speechless by the whole thing. The alchemist had managed to answer his question in a rather unconventional yet truthful and sincere way. It sounded just like Albedo and Kaeya couldn’t help but laugh. “Looks like today’s full of surprises,” then he stands up and starts to stack the papers on his desk without giving Albedo a reply.

Albedo senses the avoidance, but is brave enough to ask again. “I assume I have your blessing, then?” his eyes follow Kaeya’s form who shrugs easily with a smile “I don’t see why not. You’ve always been a man of your word.”

“...Thank you...Would you happen to know where I can find the master of Dawn Winery?” Albedo asks and Kaeya is once again dumbfounded by how serious Albedo actually was about you.

“Diluc? Oh don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine,” Kaeya waves a hand, and Albedo is immediately suspicious. 

“...I...insist. If I personally told you, it’s only right that I personally tell him as well,” Albedo reasons but Kaeya again dismisses him. 

“Tell you what, I’ll tell Diluc and you won’t have to worry your head over it,” Kaeya proposes and again Albedo hesitates. It’s not that he didn’t trust Kaeya...well, maybe he didn’t, not a 100% at least, but Kaeya immediately pulls the ‘brother’ card. “You trust me, I’m Y/N’s brother after all, right?” Kaeya felt the hesitation in Albedo, but enjoys the way the alchemist seems to battle with himself on whether to say yes or no.

“...I...suppose I can let you handle it,” Albedo relents, and Kaeya claps the smaller man’s back. “There you go!” 

Kaeya never told Diluc. Did he forget? Possibly. Did he do it on purpose? Most likely.

Diluc had to learn the hard way, and Albedo had some explaining to do.

Who wants to date you: Venti

“Absolutely not,” Diluc doesn’t even look up from his task of drying glasses at the bar, watching as the white cloth wipes up the residue from the cup. He doesn’t even know if the bard is serious, but Diluc has the impression that “serious” wasn’t a word that Venti usually used. 

“Aweeeeee come on, why not? I can take care of Y/N! You know that, right?” Venti, sitting on a bar stool situated in front of Diluc, starts whining. Diluc’s eye twitches, he’s aware what Venti really is, and is aware that Venti can absolutely protect you. “Take care” of you though? He had his doubts. 

“Protecting them is completely different from taking care of them,” Diluc simply says to which Venti hums in thought, touching his braided hair absentmindedly as he replies. 

“I can do both!” He cheerfully restates and rocks back and forth excitedly on his chair. 

“Forget it,” Diluc says with finality, though he knew in the end he couldn’t really stop you from making your own decisions, at least he could convey to Venti that he wasn’t completely onboard about the whole thing. 

“Why are you so against it? I’ve been nothing but a good patron to your establishment!” Venti yet again protests playfully. Diluc finally picks his gaze up to look at Venti with a half-serious glare. 

“A good patron? By ordering dandelion wine every night, getting drunk and forgetting to pay for it? You really think that’s the kind of person I’d want for my sibling?” 

Venti slinks backwards with a nervous laugh. “I just pass out before I can hand you the money that’s all. Next time I’ll pay before drinking, eh?” 

Diluc’s glare doesn’t falter. “No,” yet his hands continue to wipe. “Pay for all the ones you’ve consumed before and maybe I’ll think about it,”

Venti gasps, hand coming over to his chest. “Are you...Are you selling your sibling?! Are you saying if I pay for all the dandelion wine I’ve consumed...I’ll have your blessing?”

“I said I’ll think about it, I didn’t say yes. Besides, paying for what you consumed is common human decency,” 

“Oh, good thing I’m not human then,” Venti mumbles but Diluc hears it and is an inch close to throwing the bard out of the tavern, and also forbidding you from seeing him ever again, but Kaeya walks in.

“What’s all the commotion here?” he asks, chuckling at the face Diluc was making. He looked like a volcano that was about to erupt.

“Ah! Drinking buddy!” Venti was delighted to see the knight of Favonius, thinking that he had an ally now. Kaeya salutes at Venti and takes a seat next to him on the next barstool. Diluc immediately breaks the news to Kaeya.

“This bard wants to date Y/N,” Kaeya blinks, letting Diluc’s tone and livid expression finally settle in. 

Kaeya chuckles and turns to Venti, “Really now?” as if an amused child who just discovered something wonderful in a museum. “And what makes you think we’ll agree to it?” Kaeya attacks immediately and Venti is wounded.

“What? I thought you were on my side! We’re drinking buddies!” 

“Precisely why I’m not sure if Y/N’s a good match for you,” There’s something a little menacing about Kaeya’s smile. “Doesn’t paint a nice picture, thinking that you’re here every night while Y/N’s all alone, you see,”

“I’m NOT here every night!” despite Venti’s cheerful disposition even that comment gets to him. “Besides, once me and Y/N are official I’d rather spend that time with them,” the bard huffs, not noticing the glint in your brothers’ eyes.

“Well, let’s settle this with a drinking challenge then,” Kaeya suggests, motioning for Diluc to give them two glasses. “You’re only worthy if you can hold your alcohol better than me,” 

“Deal,” Venti is overconfident when the challenge starts. Unfortunately for him Kaeya and Diluc had already done this before. Halfway through the challenge when Venti is a little tipsy, Diluc starts pouring grape juice instead of wine into Kaeya’s glass. 

Venti doesn’t understand how Kaeya wins every time. 

Who wants to date you (bonus character): Tartaglia

(I sincerely think this needs a whole fanfiction of its own. Tartaglia dating Diluc’s sibling is a complicated disaster waiting to happen but I still wrote a small snippet because I think it’s an interesting thought)

“Tell me where you met him again?” Diluc asks you, pulling his glove on his hand to start the day. It should have been a normal day like any other, with Diluc going on his usual patrol in the morning, but you had sidetracked him, told him that you wanted him to meet someone, and that you’ve invited Kaeya over to the mansion as well. 

Diluc could tell that whoever this person was, you already had a certain liking towards them. 

“At Liyue, brother,” you say, mentally making a note that this was probably the third time you’ve said it. You can tell Diluc is anxious, possibly because this was a total stranger to him. Someone who wasn’t from Mondstadt, someone who he was only hearing about now when you have apparently been seeing him for months now. 

“Why did you only tell me now?” Diluc adds, dusting his coat off and finally turning to you, brows furrowed, arms crossed. You smile apologetically. 

“Well, he’s a busy person, and I was trying to find the right time to tell you.” You explain and Diluc doesn’t budge from his position as he questions, “Busy, you say?” How was he going to look after you if he was “busy” as you said.

“Yeah, a bit like you, actually. Running around doing errands,” Diluc almost winces. Since he was also a busy person, he couldn’t really say anything bad about this other person being busy. That would be hypocritical. 

“10 minutes, and I’m off to work,” Diluc grumbles, but sees the delight in your eyes and he’s always had a weakness for your happiness. There’s a slight commotion downstairs which the two of you can hear, since the door to his room is ajar.

“That must be him!” and again the joy that sweeps your face is immense, Diluc is almost angry that an unknown man was able to make you this happy. He sighs and follows after you down to the living area.

Sure enough, there’s a tall man, chestnut brown hair, charming smile on his face, holding flowers. Childe’s eyes light up as well, the moment he sees you jogging down the stairs and he somewhat hesitantly opens his arms to you. Diluc doesn’t know whether to grimace at the sight of you jumping into them and him spinning you around once with a laugh, or just ignore the whole thing altogether.

For a moment you and Childe are stuck in your own world. With him telling you that he missed you, it’s been a while, and passing you the sunflowers in his arm. You’re overjoyed by the sentiment and look up at him with awe, Diluc clears his throat at that moment. 

“This is my brother, Diluc. This is Childe, brother,” You introduce them briefly and Childe is the one who stretches his hand out first, Diluc only follows.

Childe knows well who your brother is, it’s the exact reason why he took extra precautions today, like his delusion being concealed. Did he originally know that Diluc was your brother? Not at all. But when he found out, he was much too in love with you already. He’d make it work, right? 

If you found out that he was part of the Fatui, it’d be a problem. But if your brother found out... that would be a completely different and bigger problem.

So, he kept his facade.

“...Where do you work?” Diluc suddenly asks. He doesn’t even ask how Childe is, if he’s tired from the long journey or how the two of you really met. He gets straight to the point, and something in his instincts is flaring up. 

Childe gives a pleasant smile as he takes his hand back. “The Northland Bank in Liyue, Internal Affairs,” Childe stays by your side, comforted by your presence next to him. Truthfully he’d go through any hurdle just to have you, even if it meant tearing you away from family. Was that too much?

“...The Northland Bank?” Diluc questions, eyebrow raising. “A Snezhnayan bank...and you don’t look Liyuen at all,” Childe chuckles at Diluc’s observation and gives a simple explanation. 

“I’m originally from Snezhnaya. Just in Liyue for business... All my siblings are back in Snezhnaya though, so I travel pretty frequently just to see them,” Playing the ‘I’m a family guy’ card was usually a nice place to start, though Childe wasn’t sure if that was able to fool Diluc, because the red head said nothing.

“...Enjoy your stay in Mondstadt, then,” Diluc simply says and stalks off towards the door. You’re not surprised at how curt your brother is, he’s usually like that with new people, but you assumed Kaeya might be a bit more welcoming. You whisper towards Childe to reassure him. “Don’t worry, he’ll warm up later on,” and he only smiles back at you. 

Just before Diluc reaches the door it opens to reveal that Kaeya has arrived. As usual he’s got that grin full of mischief on his face, but his eyes dart towards you and Childe immediately. “Ah, this must be the gentleman I’ve been hearing about,” Kaeya starts. 

“Sir Kaeya, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Childe, I’ve actually brought a bottle of wine from Snezhnaya--”

“Actually,” Diluc cuts through the conversation, then places a hand on Kaeya’s shoulder. “Kaeya’ll be coming with me for a minute, he’ll be back later,” and gives Kaeya a pointed look before taking his hand back and proceeding out the door. Kaeya doesn’t falter and doesn’t look surprised at all, it must have been something important, he knows that look on Diluc’s face. So, Kaeya shrugs and addresses you and Childe. 

“It won’t be long, I’ll catch up with you later. Do leave the wine with the maids. In the meantime, the two of you should walk around town for a bit,” Kaeya waves, still the ever present charming smile on his face before turning and disappearing out the door as well. 

Childe can’t help but let out a sigh, he doesn’t know out of stress or out of relief. You pat his back and give him a sympathetic look. “They’re just a little strange, but they’re good people, I promise,” 

Childe chuckles under his breath and places a hand on your back, smiles down at you and presses a quick kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sure they are,” he reassures you more than he reassures himself. He’s 100% sure he’s dug himself a grave. Something about Diluc’s gaze on him tells him that the Darknight Hero knows. 

It’s a little strange that Childe most certainly knows that your brothers are good people. 

Though, he can’t quite say the same thing about himself.

CONSIDER SUPPORTING ME AND READ SOME EXCLUSIVE FICS!

https://www.buymeacoffee.com/lenaprimofate

https://ko-fi.com/primofate

MASTERLIST

https://primofate.tumblr.com/post/653296890583154688/masterlist-for-mobile-version-main-links

[wingedcat13]

Princess in a Tower

[Note: this one is *not* Synovus, or any particular prompt. First person, implications of violence and familial abuse, and a one-off for real I promise!]

They have not yet mopped up all the blood, when I enter the throne room.

It is not the first time I have seen the room itself, but it is the first time I’ve had a chance to inspect it. Earlier, it was still filled with the chaos of our siege; the screams of mortal men and metal against metal enough to distract from the pretty mosaics on the walls.

I ignore the remaining smears of viscera. The bodies have been removed, which is the most important bit. They will all be identified, and depending on how well the people they died to defend behave, may even see proper burials. Loyalty is a virtue, even when it is to the wrong people.

Of course, to the people bound and kneeling in this room, I am the wrong people.

As I stalk through them I hear whispers between the sharp footfalls of my sabaton’d boots. Some are muttered prayers, or incoherent cries. The rest are my names and monikers: Domine of the Northern Reach, the Wyvern-Wraith, Death-in-Red. Some get the title wrong, translating it into the local customs, and I am named both ‘Prince’ and ‘Princess’ in an air of confusion. My soldiers will correct them later.

By the time I reach the dais, only one person has been brave enough to utter my given name.

“Elith Frenaye.” Four syllables, but an infinite amount of venom. That’s to be expected. At least the pronunciation is correct.

“Archinard Holbrooke.” I greet the man who was King here only a few hours ago with quiet grace and decorum. As he has dropped my titles, I am under no obligation to grant him his - particularly not when the titles he would expect are no longer his to claim.

The now-former King of Kescil is shorter than I expected, even granting the fact that he’s on his knees. He’s doing his best to keep a straight back, and his chin up, balancing as though he still has to account for the weight of a crown he’s already been relieved of. At nearly sixty, he looks remarkably fit for both his age and status; most nobles are showing their excess by now in unpleasant ways.

Archinard is balding, but he’s taken to it with grace. He isn’t the most muscled man I’ve ever faced down, but he seems to still care for himself. Still has most of his teeth, from what I can see of his sneer. Good. It’s always pathetic to execute someone people can’t even recognize as a king without their robes and jewels.

Archinard also isn’t stupid - he knows that’s his fate. He raises his chin again, and the mental image of him doing that on the headsman’s block is all that keeps me from punching him when he demands, “What have you done with my wife and daughter?”

Steadfast. I remind myself, simply staring at him while I take the time to put myself in order. The fight is over, but my nerves will take days to settle properly. Steadfast. Sure. Serene.

“Nothing yet.” I answer, politely casual as I walk past Archinard. My cape swings into him as I pass, and I swear for a moment he wanted to bite it. Perfect. “Though pretending ignorance won’t help any of you here. Yes, yes, you managed to hide them away from me.”

I turn to face the crowd again, and settle myself into the throne. My voice is steady, unhurried, and unworried, as I add, “For now.”

I don’t clarify that I will find them, or make threats. I don’t need to. There’s a moment where none of the Kescilians even breathe, and saying more would only tarnish that moment of fear. Even Archinard has paled, though his bluster will return in a moment.

Only if he’s given the chance, though, and I don’t intend to grant him that mercy.

I lean back in the throne - my throne, now - and as plush as it is, the thing is damned uncomfortable. Maybe that’s part of why Archinard is the way he is. I’ll never ask. There’s more important things at hand.

“Archinard Holbrooke.” I repeat, and where before my voice was quiet and polite, now it is pitched to carry. I was not born to inherit this throne room, but I was born and raised to a crown. All of that training is evident in the seemingly effortless diction in my voice, a layer of fraying velvet over steel. “You are relieved of the duties of Monarch of Kescil. Your life has been remanded into my care. As I am merciful, I will grant you a choice.”

‘Merciful’ is stretching it, in this instance. The crowd likely expects me to give him a choice of how he’d like to die, or perhaps a chance to try and claim mercy for his Queen and the Princess.

“You may accept these changes with dignity, and retire as Ledan - Lord - Holbrooke, with a moderate compensation from your people, in recognition of your service. Or you may be executed as the last King of Kescil.”

The first offer is tempting, but this isn’t as much of a choice as it appears. Demoting the King to a noble may allow him to think he can reclaim his crown later, but it also opens him to punishment for years of mistreatment by his now-fellow nobles, who do not need to fear a crown’s reprisal. Compensating him from his own treasury makes him complicit, and the common folk won’t forget that he took the chance to run with the gold. Recognition of his service is a joke.

Whether it’s in a rebellion, at the hands of his own vassals, in a common folk mob, or by an assassin, I will see this man dead. It’s only a matter of how long he wants to live, and in what comfort, before the axe - metaphorical or literal - falls. Perhaps I am only offering him a choice of deaths.

“I am a King.” Archinard declares, “So I was ordained, and so I will die.”

The smile I give him in return is bloodless. “As you wish.”

—-

I do not execute Archinard immediately.

If conquest was my true reason for being in Kescil, I would have. My armor was still bloodstained, I had my sword, and the man was already bound and on his knees - it would have been incredibly simple to just end it then and there. But I have promised his death to another, if she wants it, and I will stand by that promise.

My excuse to the masses is that I want to make a ‘proper’ example of him. There are speculations that I want to execute the entire royal family at once, to ensure there are no mistakes, no accidental inheritances. Others think I’m torturing the man for fun behind closed doors.

I have a few retainers who know the truth of my purpose here in Kescil - I keep at least one of them with me, always, as a guard for both my body and my sanity. That first night, the four of us share a room, prepared to sleep in shifts in the parlor of a suite, all piled in the center of the floor.

“Better than camping.” Chirps Valentine, setting up his bedroll on the plush carpet.

“Worse than camping.” Counters Ames, who distrusts the textiles and would prefer a carpet of leaves to sleep on.

Ash doesn’t bother to chime in on that debate, just exchanges looks with me over their heads.

“It is camping.” I tell them both, shoving one end of a couch - there were four of them in this room, four. Not to mention the chairs and cushions and footstools and, ugh - further against the wall. If there were hidden passages, no one would be creeping in easily.

“You know,” Valentine muses from the floor, his head propped on his chin, “I can’t wait to hear the rumors after tonight. What about the rest of you? Fan favorites? Particular conspiracies?”

Ash folds her legs beneath her, and starts stripping off her gloves and boots. “That’s not fair to Elith.” She protests around a mouthful of leather as she struggles with a strap. No one tries to help her; we’ve all learned better. She’ll ask if she needs it. “Given she knows what’s supposed to be spreading.”

“Girl-Prince invades castle, hosts wild orgy in celebration.” Ames announces.

While I’m still wrinkling my nose at that, Valentine smacks Ames with a pillow, “It’s ‘Princess,’ you foghorn, not girl-Prince.”

Ames allows the blow to knock them flat, even though I’ve seen them take much worse without so much as a twitch. “I just repeat what I’ve heard.”

“There’s no way they’re already speculating about her sex life.” Ash disagrees, “We just got here.”

“People always speculate about my sex life.” I correct her wearily. “They call me girl-Prince as an insult, Ames, you know Kescil’s weird about these things. And I were to have a celebratory orgy, I would have invited far nicer company than you three.”

“Ah,” says Valentine, smug, “But would they have accepted? Or would you have been dropping trou with just us-“

“Thank you, Ash.” I say mildly, over the sounds of Valentine being smothered.

“We’ll find her, Elith.” Ames tells me, suddenly serious. The other two stop as well. “You know we will.”

The sudden focus of their attention is more than I can bear right now, even benevolent as it is. I exhale slowly. Steadfast. Sure. Serene.

I manage a smile. “I know we will.”

None of them stop me as I roll my shoulders, checking the fit of my armor is still right. I haven’t taken it off yet, though we did clean the worst of the day’s stains off of it earlier - the rest won’t come out without sanding the chain and plate, and that takes longer than I want to be without it, right now.

“I think I’d like to see more of my new castle.” I remark, purposefully light. “I’m going to go for a walk.”

Ash moves to start replacing her boots and gauntlets, and Ames opens their mouth, but it’s Valentine who’s quickest to his feet.

“I’ll go with you.” He says, cutting off the other two’s chance to claim escort duty. If I let them, they’d still come along, but four people in the halls will have everyone still in the castle up and trying to spy. I’m not certain Valentine and I will avoid that outcome either, but at least we have a better chance.

We walk the halls of the Royal residence, avoiding one particular room. It turns out to be a quiet night.

I don’t sleep at all.

—-

They find the Queen on day three.

We’re taking an early meal in the banquet hall when word comes, carried by a page who’s had to learn the castle’s floorplan faster than anyone else. She skids into the hall, nearly flipping over a bench that’s been left askew by its last inhabitants. When she spots me, she all but climbs over the tables to get to me.

Ames, my companion for the next few hours, is halfway out of their seat with a bread knife before I recognize the page, and settle them with a hand. Even then, they don’t sit, but scan the crowd behind the page, in case she’s being chased.

“Domine!” The page pants, almost throwing herself flat at my feet. “Ser Thorrun sent me, an urgent message. Immediately there and back with a reply, Domine, he seemed sure you’d send one.”

“Peace.” I tell the page, holding out my hand for the message. My food is forgotten - Thorrun is the one in charge of sweeping the castle for any hideaways who are still here. I have four others, each tasked with a different cardinal direction, leading searches in the areas around the castle for those who fled. So far, those searches have only turned up a few servants, and the odd nobleman.

While I read Thorrun’s note, I pass the page a goblet of water. It’s brief -

Q in Weave, A+U.

Rather than send a reply, I rise. The page spills half her water down her front, and looks up at me, gasping. Ames pats her on the back.

“Take me to the Weaver’s quarters, please.” I say. I can only hope it comes across as calm.

—-

A castle goes through a truly preposterous amount of linens. Back home, the weavers and the seamstresses share a compound building, but have separate work spaces they’re free to use as they wish. It leads to arguments and lost items of clothing on occasion, but the Textiline - like a housekeeper, but head of weavers, sewers, spinners, and launderers in the Royal employ - has never complained.

I would be ashamed to show them this place.

Part of it is our fault, yes - hanging curtains are a good place to hide someone with a sword if your opponent is in a hurry, or a moron who doesn’t know to look for boots. The simplest way to avoid that is to prod them with your sword as you pass by, and that leaves a lot of holes. A lot of baskets overturned to ensure no one is crammed inside one.

But there are no windows here, meaning the whole room is lit only by candles, leaving the entire room stuffy and reeking of tallow and lye. The weaver and the seamstress must sit back to back if they hope to have any room at all. There are all sorts of cabinets around, yes, but the doors can’t all be opened at once, and it must be a headache to get anything sorted in here.

But part of the reason for that is evidently because some of these compartments have layers. And behind a second layer rack where garments can be hung, there is another false back, and there is where they found the no-longer-Queen of Kescil.

By the time I arrive, Ser Thorrun has cleared the workers from the area, and has the woman bound, sitting on the weavers’ bench.

“Tabithica.” I greet her flatly. She looks offended to hear her given name. She cannot reply, given the gag. “I presume she still has her tongue.”

The last is directed towards Ser Thorrun, a wiry man who has crammed himself into a corner to give me the space I am due. He glares at Tabithica.

“Wasn’t mine to take.” He grumbles, one hand on his sword hilt. There’s no room to really swing in here, let alone draw, but I appreciate the gesture. And that his other hand is where he can reach a knife.

“So it isn’t.” I agree coolly. A quiet request, denied. This woman is not mine to kill either, but I am holding the privilege for the one who does have that honor.

Thorrun just nods, and takes the hand off his sword hilt to point out where Tabithica was hiding. “I’ve been having some boys pace out the corridors and rooms.” He explained. “Dimensions didn’t add up. None of the mortar looked fresh, so figured there was a hidden something or other back here. Found it.”

I step forward to inspect the place that has been a Royal bolt hole for the past three days. It is rank with ammonia - evidently she did not have anyone to empty the chamber pot, even if they did bring her food. There is a bed, and a quilt, and no one else here.

I knew that. Thorrun would’ve searched the room already, would’ve told me if there were signs of her. But I could not help but look.

“Wait in the corridor.” I tell Thorrun tonelessly. He manages to kneel in the small space, bowing his head to me. He asks no questions.

When Thorrun has left, and Ames has entered in his place - the wrinkle of their nose is brief, and shows they share my opinion of the place - I straddle the end of the bench Tabithica is sitting on.

For a moment, I simply stare at her.

Will she be more likely to give me answers if she thinks I won’t understand them? If I’ve threatened her? Or, like her husband, will she want to gloat and bluster and threaten me in turn?

Something about the gleam in her eyes reminds me of iron.

I reach up one hand, and she remains still rather than flinch away. Her breath quickens a fraction, but she keeps her eyes on me, not my hand. Not fearing or cowering from a blow. Pride? Stubbornness?

The gag comes loose with a simple gesture, and I let it fall as it will, sitting back again to examine this woman who once was Queen.

For a moment, we sit in silence. I will break it eventually, if I must, but for now I am content to study her, as she is studying me in return.

She takes the offensive: “Fighting over scraps now, are you?”

It’s a reference to how my parents had referred to Kescil - a kingdom of scraps, not worth the taking. Economically, they were right. Kescil was never going to have the forces necessary to pose a threat, but they also didn’t have anything our people needed or even wanted. So for years, we let them be, and simply didn’t care whether they lived or died.

“I do not need a reason.” I say softly, and as far as she knows, it’s true. I’ve certainly seemed to kill for less. But an answer like that is still to put myself on the back foot, even with a backhanded threat woven in.

Tabithica bares her teeth, “Thorns and horses, Domine.”

My title is spat with derision, but it is the words that are the insult. Ames stirs behind me, showing the anger that I cannot.

When I was yet young, my father went riding. This was not unusual. He forged through a thicket. This was not unusual. Shortly thereafter, his horse shuddered, and died. And the unhorsed consort found himself set upon by bandits shortly thereafter.

That part was unusual.

Investigations had determined the thicket had been doused in poison it did not naturally produce. Had he taken any scratch from a thorn himself, he would have met the same fate as his horse. Instead, it was a bandit’s dagger that took his life. But the thorns are still what killed him - had the horse lived, he could have outrun them easily.

It’s unlikely the event was arranged by Kescil, but I can’t fault Tabithica for trying to take credit.

“I’m not going to kill you.” I tell her calmly.

She laughs, a thoroughly unhappy sound. “Not yet?”

“No.” I seem to agree. She expects me to threaten her with torture and fates worse than death. “I haven’t killed Archinard yet either.”

I could’ve kept that bit of information from her, but I want to know instead.

There isn’t even a flicker of relief. If anything, Tabithica seems annoyed. Interesting.

“So be it.” She sighs, “I suppose he’s gone and committed us both to dying anyway, then.”

“Where is Galatea?”

Stupid of me, really. But I don’t have time to play games with this woman - I don’t care for or about her, or her husband, and only tangentially about her country. I could’ve tried to come around to it another way, but that would’ve taken time and effort I wasn’t willing to spend on a gamble.

Tabithica looks taken aback for a moment. Her head cocks slightly, considering. Then her expression becomes decidedly vindictive. “Dead.”

Ames stiffens. I do not react.

“That’s a shame.” I inform her, as though I’ve been told the last of a wine vintage has been consumed. “As she is the only one who may bargain for your release.”

Tabithica raises her chin, but I ignore her. Instead, I rise, turning to Ames, and putting my back to the fallen royal.

“Toss the room. Ensure there are no more hidden doors.”

“And her?” Ames asks quietly.

I look over my shoulder, and think again of how small this space is, how lightless, and airless. I meet Tabithica’s gaze.

“Put her back.”

—-

On the fifth day, my inner circle is restless.

We, all of us, know exactly how long a human can survive in depravation, and we are reaching the limits of what an ill-prepared hiding place would provide the missing Princess. With provisions, she could likely last quite some time, but…

None of us have faith that such a hiding place was arranged.

I have stalked the rows of the dead thrice, made a point of speaking to every survivor and servant. My searchers have been cautioned to not be blinded by assumptions of gender, of hair color or cut.

Thorrun’s men have paced out the entirety of the castle. They’ve found a few other hidden holes, but no one within them - living, anyway, one did contain a skeleton from either some long ago siege or murder - and there are fewer and fewer places to look. Younger, agile folk have taken to exploring the rooftops. Every barrel in the storage rooms has been opened, even those that have spoiled fermenting wine or beer.

And I am unspeakably proud of her.

—-

On the seventh day, I finally enter the Princess’s quarters myself.

They’re at the top of the eastern tower, windows facing the dawn. Its light cuts through in thin stripes, divided by the protective bars and slats that prevent any enterprising climber from coming in. Or any desperate princess from throwing herself out.

The stairs are narrow and winding. The walls are only now taking on a hint of dust after a week without tending. There is a dumbwaiter, built into the middle of the tower, but it is at the base level, and empty besides.

I have been avoiding this place. I came through it once, during the initial siege, hoping to find her here - and when we found it empty instead, I’d restricted all access to it. I could say it felt intrusive to walk through her bedroom, to search through her things for clues as to where she might have gone.

But in truth, it makes me furious to see this prison.

Every step feels like a purposeful insult. Every sign of care taken with the carpets and cleaning is another reminder that she must never have been alone. The light of the dawn rising every day to tell her she was still here, could go nowhere else, couldn’t even sleep in-

Enough. There will be recompense.

But the watch heard noises here an hour ago, and that means someone has broken my edict. Possibly, it is a bird that got past the bars, but if it is a person, I’ll at least have a target for my increasingly frantic rage. Because I have not found her. I promised I would. I will.

So yes, my steps grow heavier at the top of the stairs. I am somewhat distracted, scowling, when I open the door and stride into the room.

I pay for my distraction immediately.

The rugs are decorative, lavish, and layered across the stone floor atop the rushes. One of them had been moved, and I had not noticed until it was yanked out from under my feet. My stride is long enough, and I had been moving quickly enough, to avoid being sent back down the stairwell, but even still I lost my footing.

The fall stole my breath. The collision of my head with the floor briefly stole my sight. But I could still feel it when hands grabbed at my legs, pulling the knife from my boot and climbing up my body until its blade could be pressed to my chin.

“Move and I’ll carve out your heart.”

It was a growl more than a sentence. Sounds forced through gritted teeth. My vision was returning, blurry yet, and I could not discern one feature from another. Instinctively, my hand had risen to catch the wrist of the knifehand, and by that grace alone I still had a throat capable of speech.

“My heart is claimed.” I rasped in reply. There was clattering, a shout, from lower down the stairwell - someone must have heard my fall. “The neck you’ve earned, if you’re quick.”

Another growl of frustration - my captor did not wish to be caught, it seemed - and the weight on my chest was briefly removed. I flung myself to the side before it could come back down, knife point first.

Twisting away, I blinked the last of the blurriness from my eyes, and came up on my knees. I found myself looking down at my attacker, who was still sprawled on the rugs she’d used to force me down. Long hair in a messy, ratted braid, a dress with wide skirts that hung oddly, the fear and fury in her voice -

The determination in the wild swing she took for my legs, torquing to move, dragging her legs behind her.

“My heart is claimed by a girl of stone.” I gasp, barely avoiding the knife’s edge. “I’ve come to bring her a fine carriage.”

The woman stops, panting from exertion. When was the last time she ate? Truly slept?

She wavers for several long heartbeats, not dropping the knife. Her voice is watery when she corrects me, “the finest carriage, you idiot. I told you the passphrase was too long.”

—-

I insist on making sure Gal eats and has a chance to bathe before we talk. She insists we speak before she’ll sleep.

Arranged in her wheeled chair, she looks like a portrait half-come to life. The skirts of her dress are tailor made to hide the atrophied legs, to lay nicely in the chair’s confines. Her spine is straight, hands folded, and she does not fidget. She looks more regal than either of her parents ever will, wherever they’ve gotten off to. I’ve stopped caring.

(Ames and Ash are on guard duty, while Valentine runs the word that the Princess has been found. My orders were the inverse, but they decided it was better to have two on guard - this would be the time to kill me, after all.)

“You should’ve told me it was you.” Gal scolds me, picking off a piece of bread to throw at me.

“Like you told me you were the Princess of Kescil?” I retort, blinking involuntarily as it nearly finds its mark.

Gal turns up her nose. “I had to be sure you did not covet my title.”

“And I to be sure you did not wish to trap me.” I reply dryly. There is no sting in my words, though, no true animosity. Nor in hers.

The situation is far from ideal, and I am very aware that I am, in essence at this moment, her captor. But the reality of it all has faded away, because she is here. My Gal is safe.

Maybe my friends were wise to leave two on guard.

She drops the offended act, instead staring at the tablecloth. Her expression turns drawn, and tired. I’m on the verge of trying to convince her to sleep again when she asks,

“How many are dead?”

The thought of lying to her is barely a flicker - I can’t. “Seven hundred and twelve.” I say quietly. “Excluding pending executions, and those who may yet die from their wounds.”

She looks up at me, “And how many of those were your soldiers?”

“Two hundred and five.”

Her gaze drifts away from me, and she is quiet for a moment longer. This time, I leave her to it.

“I killed them.” She says flatly.

“No. I am the one who declared war.”

“Because of me.”

“It was hardly something you asked for.”

“But I am the root cause, am I not?” She glares at me, her tone challenging even as her shoulders start to curl inwards.

“Absolutely not.” My voice is firm. I’ve taken my share of blame for deaths before, and I will consider the two hundred soldiers who died under my command my burden to bear - but the dead of Kescil are not on her head. “If you insist on a root cause, it is the King and Queen who failed Kescil - in ordering their people to fight, in not ensuring they were adequately trained and armed, and-“ my voice gentles, “-in failing their daughter.”

“I put the pen to paper.” She says quietly.

“And I swung the sword. As did they.”

I know it isn’t enough. She’ll wonder how many of their men went to fight in the name of their Golden Princess - the delicate beauty they were taught to treasure and protect. She may never be free of the memories of constant haranguing, that she was helpless and failing her family and nation for faults that were not her own, and the substitutions her mind will make about how she was, in the end, the downfall of her country.

But Galatea Holbrooke was not theirs to keep.

“Well.” She says, after a few more heartbeats of silence. Her voice is brittle at first, but smooths out just as she smooths the tablecloth. “Then I suppose we should discuss terms, Domine Hawk.”

The addition of my title to the pen name I used to write her - chosen after one of my hunting hawks nearly took down her messenger pigeon - is a needling I quite deserve.

“Whatever you desire, Galatea of Kescil.”

She raises her brows at that, “Such trust, Domine. What if I desire your title instead?”

I smile, leaning forward on the table, and for once, I don’t clink. My armor has finally been doffed, and sent for a good proper scrubbing. “Then that can be arranged, though you’ll have to be more specific. I have several.”

“And if I want them all?” She’s leaned forward too, her eyes narrowing.

“In the traditions of the Northern Reach,” I say carefully, suddenly unable to look her in the eyes, “I cannot bequeath my titles to another, nor can they be taken from me by anyone but my Liege. But… they can be shared. With a spouse.”

When I glance back at Galatea again, she’s wrinkled her nose. My hands flex, curling inward as my stomach sinks.

“You just had to go and beat me to it.” She complains, slumping back into her chair. “Six months - six! - to get you to tell me your hair color, but sure, propose within the first three hours we meet in person.”

She groans dramatically, pressing a hand over her eyes, as I slowly straighten. “That’s - not quite an answer.” I hedge, “though I understand if you wish time to consider, of course, circumstances -“

“Circumstances!” Gal snorts, giving up the last of her propriety. “My bird, you cannot possibly have earned your titles by being this shy.”

But there’s a laugh in her voice, and when she uncovers her face, I can see a sparkle in her eyes.

“Do you know what I thought, when I was hiding from your soldiers, not knowing it was you and that I was safe the entire time?”

“About that-“ We still didn’t know how she’d been hidden.

“Oh.” She waved a hand, “There’s a closed off landing about halfway down the shaft, there’s still a ledge inside just large enough for me to fit. I climbed down and back up again.”

Gal shrugs, as though she hasn’t just told me she’s done that with only the strength of her arms, and alone.

“I thought it was a shame I couldn’t even live long enough to tell you to your face that grey is spelled with an e, not an a.”

“It can be either-“ I start, before cutting myself off with a sigh. We’d been over the topic at length before, in previous letters. I’d cut a page out of a dictionary to include it and nearly been banned from my own library.

Gal just tilts her head, and waits. Her hair is loose now, mostly. She’s mentioned wanting to cut it before - I can’t wait to see how short she’ll choose to go.

“It was much less complicated, when I was simply your Hawk.” I admit quietly.

“And when I was a simple village Gal? Neither of us were exactly spy material, you know. Where would I have learned to read as a village child? Where would you have found paper and books as a hunter’s child?”

I can’t help but laugh, “Some things we just wanted to believe. But there is a difference, between a noble and the heir to a country. I promised you my help when you thought I had little more than a bow and a hunting bird - and I meant it.”

She sighs, “And I just wanted you to know who I was, before I disappeared.”

Her final letter to me had been written in haste, explaining that she could no longer lead me on, and that all contact between us had to end. She’d signed it with her full name - the first she’d ever used it. When word came that the King of Kescil had decided on a suitor for his daughter, I understood.

But then, from Gal’s letters, I knew a lot more about the King than I suspected most of his subjects had.

“I knew who you were, Gal.” I assure her, and watch her eyes widen before she catches my meaning. “I just didn’t know your full name.”

“As I knew you.” She agrees, “Enough to know you’d be foolish enough to show up if I asked you to.”

“It seemed… prudent.” I say, tracing a pattern on the tablecloth. “And if you want, I will leave. I can’t bring back your army, but I can leave a contingent of soldiers-“

“Elith.” She says, exasperated, and the sound of her voice saying my name freezes me in place. “You promised me the world, little bird. Did you mean that too?”

“I did.”

“Then I do.”

“…what?”

She rolls her eyes at me. “I’ll marry you, Death-in-Red, Wraith-Wyrven, and whatever else it is you call yourself. Because my heart was claimed by a hunting bird, and I’ll not let it fly away.”

Her half of the phrase to identify ourselves to each other, if we ever did meet.

“After all.” She says, picking at her bread again, “You did fight a war for me.”

—-

[Thank you for reading! If you’ve enjoyed, consider checking out my other writing, both here on tumblr and on Ao3! You’ll find links in my pinned post on my blog, if I haven’t come back to update them here.]

[skvatnavle]

A Friendly Push

Robert 'Bob' Floyd x reader

Warnings: some god ol' pining (so much pining!), kissing, SMUT! Handjob, fingering, protected sex (be smart and wrap it folks!) and fluff... lots and lots of fluff.

Notes: This might be one of the most self indulgent fics I've ever written, so bear with me. And I know I should focus on my WIPs, but ever since I saw Top Gun Maverick, this cutie has been all I could think about. But it's the first thing I've written in two weeks, so it was nice to feel inspired again 💜

A trifolded shout out to @a-reader-and-a-writer for 1) convincing me to write this, 2) beta reading and 3) for letting me use her awesome dividers. You are truly a gem! ❤️

words: 3.5K

Part two

When you started working at The Hard Deck, Penny had told you… well, rather warned you about the clientele. Being that close to the airbase, most of the guests were pilots blowing off some steam during the weekends. 

Penny hadn’t exactly made a rule against dating the guests, but had told you to be cautious. She had been burned before, more than once, and didn’t want you to share the same fate. And you hadn’t really wanted to date any of them anyways. But that all changed the day the newest team walked through the doors. 

One of them instantly catches your eye. Well, several of them did, cause you had to admit a few of them were drop dead gorgeous. But there is one guy, seemingly quieter than the rest. He immediately stands out although he walks silently behind the others. 

As most of them banter around the pool table, having a regular pissing contest, he sits down on a stool with a cup of snacks, softly pushing his glasses up his nose, observing the others quietly. Every time he does that, he wrinkles his nose slightly in the most adorable way. 

And when the others address him and he finally speaks, his voice is sweet with a southern accent. Bob. So that was his name. Well, callsign at least. You can’t help but smile as he brushes the crumbs of his uniform a little awkwardly.

Later that night he comes up to the bar and when his sweet, blue eyes fall on you, a blush slowly creeps up your cheeks. He was even cuter up close. This was going to be a problem for sure.

“Ehm, hi. Could I get a beer, please?” he asks softly as he shyly pushes his glasses back in place. The soft smile he offers you just adds to his appeal. With no sleazy pick up line or wiggling eyebrows, this was definitely a first. Not that you would have minded if he flirted a little. 

When you hand him the beer, he politely says thank you and gestures to go, but feeling brave, you gently shout after him.

“Are you new here? Haven’t seen you before.”

As he turns to you, a surprised expression adorns his face. Almost as if he can’t believe you were talking to him. Honestly, could this man get any cuter? He walks back to the bar, his cheeks already a bright red as he barely looks you in the eye, but still smiling.

“Yeah, ehm. I’m part of a special mission, but I-I don’t really know if I can tell you anything.”

“I get that a lot here, actually. But you can tell me your name, right?”

The corners of his mouth slowly turn into a sweet smile, his eyes finding yours. As if by habit, maybe a nervous one, he pushes at his glasses again.

“Robert Floyd. But they just call me Bob. Y-you can too.”

Repeating his name back to him, you give him another bright smile. The flush of his cheeks have spread to the tip of his ears and a little down his neck. Definitely not like the others. You give him your name, which he in return repeats with a smile. You notice there’s still some crumbs on his uniform, so you lean over the bar and brush them off.

“You had a few crumbs.”

Stunned, he just looks at you and he is about to say something before one of the others at the table calls for him. He gives you a soft ‘sorry’ before he joins the others again. 

The rest of that night, you sometimes catch him looking at you. Each time he quickly looks away, trying to look indifferent. But if you keep looking long enough, sure as amen in church, he looks at you again, an awkward smile on his cute face and your heart would flutter each time. Yeah, you were definitely in trouble.

Another good thing about working on The Hard Deck besides the clientele, was the beach right outside the doors. What made that even better was one day when the infamous Maverick decided to do some team building. And that’s how you found yourself sitting outside the bar, looking towards the water.

And oh, what an amazing team building it was. Beach football on a hot day was equal to you gawking at the pilots as they were running around, the sweat pouring down their exposed, chiselled pecks. Except for Bob. Much to your dismay, he kept his shirt on, but it kinda just made you like him even more. 

Maverick had asked for some refreshments, and you were happy to oblige, giving the thirsty pilots their drinks after their game ended. Luckily, the game seemed to have worked. They were all happy and seemed like a tighter knit unit now. As they down a few beers, they all seem much friendlier, like a family.

Looking to the side, you find Bob sitting with a beer in hand, looking at the sunset with a content smile on his face. You sit down next to him, getting a shy smile in return when he sees you.

“You all looked pretty good out there.”

"Some more than others." He counters softly, obviously talking about the two taller men of the group. Rooster and Hangman, you believed they were called. And sure, they were very easy on the eyes, but you only had eyes for Bob.

“I guess it depends on who's watching." You try softly, but he just fiddles with the label of his beer, clearly not taking the hint. So you had to be more obvious, then.

"It sucks a little I didn’t get to see you without your shirt.”

Bob almost chokes on his beer, as he turns to you in disbelief. It’s a bold move on your part, but you hope it pays off. As he searches your face for any indications you’re messing with him, you just keep smiling genuinely. If only he knew how much you meant it and how badly you actually wanted to see him with less clothes on.

“M-maybe next time, I… I’ll take it off just for you.” he manages to nervously stutter as his smile grows bigger than before. Dammit, if it doesn’t make the heat go straight to your core. Every fibre of your body is screaming for him, never before felt this kind of attraction to anyone. 

“I’ll look forward to that.”

You lean a little against him. Whether it’s to emphasise your statement or simply because you need to get closer to him, you don’t know. Maybe both. The sweetness and innocence of him draws you in like a moth to a flame. Biting your bottom lip, you look to his lips, wondering if they feel as soft as they look.

Glancing up, you find Bob looking into your eyes, his beautiful blue ones searching yours. Nervously, he leans in closer, his eyes darting from your lips to your eyes. His tongue wets his lips, images of what that tongue could do to you flashes through your mind. Boy, did you want him. So bad.

You close the distance, your lips almost touching. His breath is hot on your skin, coming out in small quick huffs. He’s clearly nervous, but so are you. 

The shout of your name makes you pull away, looking towards the bar. Penny is waving at you, the rush hour beginning. Dammit. Seconds away from finally kissing Bob and she has to ruin it. You turn to him and even though you’re mad at Penny for ruining the moment, the look on Bob’s face makes you smile. His cheeks burning red, his eyes and mouth drooping like a hurt puppy. 

Not exactly enjoying seeing him hurt, it still makes you happy to know he wanted this as badly as you. You at least hope that’s the case and it’s not just because of the beers. But you still opt to giving him a quick kiss on his cheek.

“I’m sorry, I… I have to go back”

“No worries, I-I’ll see you in there.”

He offers you a sweet smile, as you stand. Going back to the bar, you curse Penny for ruining the moment, but hopefully you’d get a chance again. 

He couldn’t even count the times he’d caught himself looking at you. 10? 20? But he just couldn’t help himself, so captivated by your beauty every time he walked into the bar. Your smile would always be the highlight of his evening, your laugh making his heart swell every time.  

If only he weren’t so damned shy, he’d done something a long time ago. Countless times he’d gone over his little speech in his head, practising what he’d say if he ever found the confidence to finally tell you how he felt. He had flown dangerous missions, yet this made him feel more nervous than ever before, way out of his element.  

He wasn’t exactly the most experienced guy, always been kind of a wallflower. And you were the opposite. Outgoing with that constant radiant smile on your perfect lips, able to talk to everyone you meet. Even a little flirtatious, according to Hangman. He kept insisting that you had been flirting with Bob, but he couldn’t really believe that. A girl like you choosing a guy like him, when guys like Hangman and Rooster were around? Not a chance.

But… There had been that day at the beach. You had actually chosen to talk to him, not the others. And there had been an almost kiss. Maybe it was just in the heat of the moment, but ever since then, you were all he could think about. Well, that had actually been the case for several weeks, but after the way you looked at him that day? The setting sun playing on your beautiful face, making you even more gorgeous than any woman he’d ever met before? Boy, had he fallen. Hard. But he had barely seen you since, training so hard every day.

“Okay, that is it! I’ve had it!”

Looking to the side, Bob finds Hangman staring at him, clearly annoyed. All the others are looking too. Oh God, once again he hadn’t been paying attention, mesmerized by you. Fixing his glasses, he tries to look indifferent as he turns to Hangman.

“I’m sorry, I was-”

“Staring at your little crush again? Yeah. So, when are you gonna do something about it?”

All eyes on him, Bob is hit with a sudden wave of insecurity. One thing was talking to you without anyone seeing it, but with all of them knowing? Oh boy, this was embarrassing. Hangman leans in closer, looking him straight in the eye with that smirk of his.

“Look, she is cute. So if you’re not gonna do anything, I’m going in.”

“What? No. You wouldn’t-”

“Oh, I would. You have 10 seconds or I’m going up there. 10… 9… 8…”

Before he can reach 7, Bob stands up from his chair, swallowing hard. Looking over his shoulder, he sees you walking towards the backroom, tray of used glasses in your hands. So this was it. Not how he had planned it, but the thought of Hangman hitting on you was too much to bear. Straightening his shirt a little, he makes his way through the crowd towards the back.

Rooster moves in close to Hangman, grinning as they both look after Bob. He shoots him a glance.

“So… Were you really gonna hit on her?”

“Nah. Our boy just needed a little push.”

They laugh as they turn back to their game of pool. 

After starting the dishwasher, you turn to find Bob standing behind you, fidgeting slightly with the hem of his shirt. He looks nervous, more than usual, as you make your way to him. 

“Bob? Is everything okay?”

Nodding softly, he finally looks up and into your eyes. You can see something is wrong, so you close the distance and put a reassuring hand on his arm. It almost feels like he shivers under your touch. He opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but stops. Looking around, he frowns before taking you by the hand, leading you out the backdoor. 

“Ehm, what are we doing out he-”

He steps closer, the intensity of his gaze so foreign it makes you stop dead in your tracks. He looks so nervous, yet still so determined, as he softly takes one of your hands in his, slowly looking into your eyes.

“I, ehm… I didn’t want our first kiss to be in the kitchen.”

He looks down with a shy smile. Finding your eyes again, he pushes his glasses in place as he shakes his head.

“And now I ruined the moment again by sayin-”

Crashing your lips to his, he stops talking. Once he realises what is happening, he kisses you back, his hand slowly cupping the back of your head. Pulling you closer, he deepens the kiss with a soft moan that sends shivers down your spine. Pulling him even closer, your kiss turns almost desperate, pouring the weeks of yearning into it. Too soon he breaks away, panting heavily. But the look on his face is of pure joy as he looks at you.

“So… I don’t know if I can squeeze in a date before we leave, but…” he pauses, looking sad at the prospect of leaving you. “But maybe I can take you out when… if I get back?”

He averts your gaze, looking at his hands. Looking hurt, like he expects to get turned down, it almost breaks your heart. Cupping his cheeks, you make him look at you.

“I would love that, but… I have a better idea.” You say softly, before pulling him into another desperate kiss. “How about I take you home with me when my shift ends?”

His breath hitches for a second, his hands gripping your hips a little in anticipation. Unable to respond, he just nods frantically with a shy smile. You give him another kiss, barely able to pull away from him, wanting nothing more than to stay in his arms.

As he makes his way back to the others, he can’t hide the giant smirk on his face. He kissed you. He actually kissed you. He had imagined how that would be like for weeks, but nothing compared to the real thing. Embarrassed to admit it, he even got a little hard from that kiss. 

Still in disbelief it had actually happened, he sits down at the table and takes a sip of his beer, laughing a little to himself. When he looks up, he finds the others looking at him, all with knowing smiles on their faces.

“So…?”

Bob just smiles softly, taking another sip as Rooster is leaning in over the table, looking at him with a grin. Bob just picks up a cup of snacks and chew on a peanut, before looking up.

“So… what?”

“Ah, come on! You know what we’re talking about. How did it go?”

Hangman sits down beside him, throwing an arm around Bob and shakes him, causing Bob to giggle softly. He pushes his glasses up his nose, trying to act indifferent. Which he knows is hard with the grin that will permanently be edged into his face from now on.

“I, ehm… I never kiss and tell.” He starts off softly, before realising what he just said. As Hangman and Rooster’s curious faces slowly turn excited, Bob covers his face. “Damn, I should not have said that.”

Happy for their friend, Hangman and Rooster shout excitedly as they sit down beside him, ordering another round of beers, wanting to know every detail.

At midnight, you stand outside the bar, tapping your foot impatiently against the wooden deck. But soon the door opens, and Bob comes towards you, still with a big grin on his face. Not sure you can wait much longer, you take his hand and drag him to your car. 

The drive home is long… too damn long. But soon you park outside your building and guide him towards the door. You fidget impatiently with the key and when Bob moves in closer, placing a soft kiss to your neck, you almost drop the key. 

“Kinda making it hard to concentrate here, Floyd” you grin, as you try one more time. He just laughs softly against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers through your body. As soon as the door swings open, you pull him into a needy kiss. As you drag him with you to the bedroom, you almost combust with desire, wanting him so much it hurts. But as you’re about to pull him down onto the bed, he pauses and for a second the shy Bob is back.

“I want you to know, ehm, I’m not just here for sex. I-I really like you.”

“I know” you say softly, kissing him more passionately before. Moving a little slower, you softly pull him with you as you lay down. You unbutton his shirt, and it quickly finds it’s way to your floor. As you take in his great physique, Bob blushes under your gaze. 

“I know I don’t exactly look like Hangm-”

You stop him with a soft kiss as your hand gently caresses his chest. With a body like that, he has no reason to be shy, but you get it. So you just pour every ounce of love you can into the kiss, before looking into his eyes.

“You are gorgeous, Robert.”

Swallowing hard, he looks teary eyed as he dips down and kisses you. Within no time at all, all your clothes are on the floor. His touch is gentle, yet firm, as he explores every inch of you. His fingers gliding over your skin as if storing you to his memory in case this is the only night he gets with you.

Moving down his body, you find his cock already painfully hard. Wrapping your fingers around him, he hisses at the contact, his breathing already strained.

“Please…”

At his soft plea, you start stroking him, pulling small whimpers from him. Bob bucks against your hand as his mouth moves to your breast, kissing and sucking at the tender bud. Letting your nipple go with a soft pop, his mouth finds yours again in a feverish kiss. 

When he moves his hand down to your aching core, he finds you already soaking wet. It doesn’t take long for him to make you fall apart, moaning out his name.

“Can… Can I p-please make love to you?”

“God yes.”

His fingers continue to roam your body as you reach into your drawer for a condom. Ripping the packet open, you quickly put it on, not wanting to go another second without Bob buried in you. He pushes you down gently, kissing you softly as he repositions himself between your legs. Just as the tip of his cock is at your entrance, he looks to you a final time for confirmation. 

And with a nod, he finally pushes into you. Slowly at first, the stretch of him is delicious as he lets you adjust to his size.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“More than okay.”

He starts thrusting into you at a slow and steady pace, but soon he pushes a little faster, but still very soft. It's unlike anything you've tried before. So caring and tender, whispering small praises in your ear, yet fiery hot as each snap of his hips makes him push against that sweet spot inside you.

It's not long before his pace begins to falter, his thrusts becoming uneven. His fingers find your clit, rubbing it gently in rhythm with his thrusts, keen on making you come before he does.

It only takes a few more drags of his cock combined with those magic fingers of his, before you come undone. The feeling of you clenching down on him is too much to bear and Bob follows close behind you, groaning as he thrusts a few more times, riding out his high.

He slumps against you, careful not to put all his weight on you. But you don't mind. You could spend days like this, pinned beneath him. And hopefully you would.

Pulling away, he quickly discards the condom and pulls you closer into his nook. Looking very content, he gives you a sweet kiss to your forehead before his hand finds yours, softly interlacing his fingers with yours.

"I should have said something sooner. What if all I ever get with you is tonight?"

His words hit you like a freight train. You both know there's a possibility he'll be assigned to fly the mission and from what little you've picked up, you knew it would be almost impossible and very dangerous. There really was a chance he'd never come home.

Putting on a brave face, you kiss him gently on the cheek, making him face you. When he does, you plant another kiss on his lips, deepening it a little.

"I know you'll come back. We have a date, remember? So you better show up for it." you whisper against his skin, as you bury your face into his neck. He just smiles softly in return, kissing your forehead as he pulls you into a tight embrace.

"Yes Ma'am. And I'm looking forward to it."

*

Thank you so much for reading <3

Tagging was hard, since I don't know who likes Top Gun Maverick or Bob, so I'm tagging a few of my usual peeps. No hard feelings if this is not you: @fictionalnerdery @lucy-sky @loverhymeswithlibrary @yespolkadotkitty @mindidjarin @chasingdreamer

And then a few people who I noticed loved Top Gun Maverick, I'm giving a soft tag? Please just let me know if you don't want to get tagged: @mmurdock85 @edwardbaldwin @lorecraft @srry-itshockeyszn @jakelcckley

[chillypowder]

Rescued Hearts: A Second Chance at Love

Pair: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: After 6 years of marriage, you've finally decided to end it half heartedly. So how did you end on the floor of your house that was once something you called home.

As I sat alone on the couch in our once-luxurious penthouse, the empty room seemed to echo with loneliness. The soft hum of the city outside was the only company I had, and it offered no solace. I had grown accustomed to these moments of solitude, moments when Bakugou Katsuki, my husband of six years, would once again prioritize his career as a pro hero over our relationship.

At first, his absences had stung, the broken promises a constant source of disappointment. But as time passed, I had learned to bury those feelings deep within me, like embers slowly fading into ashes. I had grown adept at putting on a brave face, hiding the hurt that gnawed at my heart each time he missed a date, a celebration, or simply a quiet evening together.

Unbeknownst to Bakugou, I had been carrying a secret that weighed heavier with each passing day. A secret that, in a cruel twist of fate, had driven a wedge between us even further. I had been diagnosed with leukemia, a merciless disease that had already claimed so much of my strength. After a grueling surgery, the doctors had delivered a grim prognosis - I had just a week left to live.

I couldn't bring myself to burden Bakugou with this devastating news. I understood the overwhelming stress and dedication he poured into his hero work. His days were filled with battles against villains, and his nights with endless paperwork and public appearances. How could I add to his burden with my own impending demise? Instead, I had decided on a different path, one that would ultimately make him resent me.

Tonight, as I waited for him once more, I contemplated divorce. It was a desperate attempt to push him away, to free him from the guilt and responsibility of a dying spouse. The courage to have this difficult conversation had taken time to gather, but I had resolved to go through with it.

Just as I steeled myself to face Bakugou and tell him that our marriage had become too painful to endure, a sharp, excruciating pain radiated through my chest. I gasped for breath, clutching at my heart, and then everything went dark.

Six long hours later, the weight of the door closing behind him alerted me to Bakugou's return. I wished I could see his face, explain everything to him, but I was trapped in this agonizing darkness, unable to move or speak.

Then, his voice, choked with panic and desperation, cut through the haze. "What the hell happened?!" he exclaimed, his footsteps racing toward me.

He found me, unconscious and unresponsive, lying on the couch where I had spent countless nights alone. Panic surged through him, and he fumbled for his phone, calling for an ambulance. But it was too late. I could feel my own consciousness slipping away, like grains of sand through my fingers.

As the paramedics rushed in, they tried to revive me, but I knew it was futile. My time had run out, and I had left this world with so much unsaid. I could hear Bakugou's voice, raw with anguish, begging me to hang on, but there was nothing I could do.

In those final moments, I wished I could have told him about my illness, about the love that had never waned despite the distance that had grown between us. I wished I could have told him how much I cherished the moments we had together, even if they were far too few.

And as the darkness closed in, I hoped that somehow, he would find a way to forgive himself, to understand that life had given us both a cruel hand, and that our love had endured through it all.

Note: I'm sorry I changed the original text from the idea to a more evolved version if you want to read the original idea I'll post it separately.

Once again. Sorry 😔

[avatar-news]

Breaking from SDCC: The first Avatar Studios movie coming to theaters in 2024 will follow Aang! And, exclusive from Avatar News: it will be set in a time period where Team Avatar are young adults!

At today’s Braving the Elements panel at San Diego Comic-Con 2022, Janet Varney (the original voice of Korra) announced that Avatar Studios’ first animated movie coming to theaters will be about Aang and his friends!

Avatar News previously revealed Avatar Studios’ slate of movies with a different project, Kyoshi, coming first. As I mentioned in that post, the order/dates of the projects could change, since it’s super early. I’ve even heard that some of their projects have shifted between being movies and shows, so it’s obviously still all very fluid. (Update: We now have a full understanding of how this change happened, which can be read here. A Kyoshi movie was definitely in development at the time, but has been delayed.)

I have an additional exclusive to add though: Team Avatar will be adults/young adults in this movie. I know a more specific age range, but I’m not allowed to reveal that yet.

If you follow Avatar News on social media, you’ll know I had plans to reveal live-action news on Thursday and Friday and animation news on Saturday and Sunday of SDCC. My post tomorrow was going to be that they'll be adults in the Zuko movie (here’s proof), so that has obviously been bamboozled. I’m not sure if the Aang movie is the “Zuko-focused” movie, but I can tell you that the/a “Zuko movie” was definitely scheduled to be the second one at one point, and it makes total sense they would do Aang era first instead!

As for Kyoshi, I don’t know what’s happening with her place in animation. An earlier version of the schedule I saw had Aang in 2024 and Korra in 2025, so it’s possible that was always the case, or they switched the schedule or switched back, or... who knows! As I mentioned, some projects have shifted between movie and show, so it’s possible her movie became a show, or it will take the 2025 or 2026 slots, all of which could still change, obviously.

I guess my last note should be that theoretically the adult Gaang project could be a different project than the 2024 Aang movie, but I highly doubt it. But, I’ll say that’s possible here for posterity.

Get hype! And thank you to Avatar Studios for the official update!

[nestypewriter]

Hii! I saw your M!Ryoba x Reader post and I just wanted to say it's a masterpiece! Could you make more post of M!Ryoba x Reader? I really love your writing <33

Distorted Embrace

[ M! Ryōba x F! reader]

[Content Warning: Kidnapping, obsessive tendency]

[Disclaimer: I want to emphasize that I do not endorse or support this type of behavior. This content is purely for entertainment purposes.]

{Author 's Note : Hello! So originally I was planning to move away from the yandere sim since I heard about what's been going on to yandere dev but i Don't really know anymore but anyways,thank you for the requesting and also thank you for the compliment that was very sweet of you, I hope you like it!💜💜}

[the inpo was tape#1]

your eyes started to open as you start to regain consciousness, you felt your head pounding.

You then heard a familiar voice say, "Watching you sleep is always so cute, but it gets a bit old when it's 6 hours, don't you think?" You asked, "What's happening? Where am I?" Your eyesight was getting clearer as you looked around.

"We're in my basement, sweetheart; my mom even went to the trouble to add this to our house," he exclaimed. "What are you talking about?!" you yelled as you tried to get up, but you couldn't. You looked down to see your arms and legs were tied down to a chair. "Huh? What is this? What's going on? Why am I tied to a chair?" You struggled a bit more, hoping that maybe the ropes would loosen up.

"Stop your squirming, dearest. That would only leave a mark on your precious skin; you don't want that, do we?" he said as he leaned down to caress your cheek. "Isn't that romantic? That chair is the very same one that my mother built for my father while she was here! And now you're sitting in it! I'm keeping a family tradition!"

"Aishi-san? Why are you doing this? I haven't seen you since you've been in the news lately," you said as you shook away his touch. "Don't be so formal with me, dear! You could use my first names. We're friends, aren't we?" He crouched down in front of you and put his hand under his chin as his head rested there while staring at you with a loving gaze.

"Is it true, what all the journalists said?" you questioned, and all of a sudden his eyes darkened, and his smile dropped. "I said, use my first name, dearest," he softly said but it's more like a demanded. "I'm sorry, but in the current situation I'm in, I don't want to," you said firmly. You felt brave, but that soon vanished when he stood up and pulled out a knife from his pocket. "Say my name," he ordered as he got closer and closer with each word.

The tip of the knife got closer to your throat as you felt sudden fear and yelled, "R-Ryōbo! Ryōbo!" Thankfully, he backed away as soon as those words came out of your mouth and moaned loudly like a sigh of relief as you looked at him with disgust.

"W-what?" you squeaked out as he smiled with glee. "Oh dearest, do you know how long I wanted you to call me that? With every conversation we had, calling me by my name when you called out to me, it's like a dream come true! Good thing I got that on tape!" he exclaimed, gesturing at the tape recorder on the table.

"What do you even want from me? Am I your next victim?" You nervously asked, scared at the possible outcome of your demise. "Victim? No, no! Darling, you were the one I was protecting this whole time! I did this all for you!" He explained. "Protecting? You mean the boys at school?" You asked as the realization hit you.

"That's right, darling! They were getting in the way of our love! Their eyes were looking at you with a disgusting gaze! Thinking about taking a chance with you! So I had to get rid of them!" he said as he leaned over your face, put his hands on both of your cheeks, and gently caressed them.

"Love?! I never saw you that way!" You exclaimed, trying to shake his touch again, but he gripped your cheeks tightly. "But now you will! You will stay down here with me, and then you will fall in love with me! Then we would have our first kiss!" He rambled and giggled as he pondered, "But Ryōbo-kun, if you love someone, you shouldn't kidnap and tie them to a chair," you angerly explained, hoping to knock some sense into him, but you knew your words would get ignored. "Well, how else could make sure that you would talk to me after what you saw on that awful news? You would have avoided me! You left me no choice but to keep you here!" he said, looking at you with a soft gaze.

"Please... please just let me go... I won't tell the police or anyone! Just let me go home!" You begged, but alas, he didn't budge. "Sorry, dear! But I know you would run away from me after you get the opportunity to go out, but there's no need for that. After all, you're here now! So there's no use in going back. Besides, I won't let you out of my sight! Isn't it great? We'll be together... forever!" He exclaimed, excited with all the plans he had for both of your futures together.

"F-forever..." you stuttered, not wanting to live a single day with your kidnapper. "That's right!" he exclaimed, but soon his attention turned to the tape recorder. "Oh, looks like I have to change the tape. One moment, dearest..." he said and went over to the tape recorder to change the tape with a new empty one.

While he was busy, you took this opportunity to try and cut or loosen the binds, but the binds were too tightly secured to even move a single thread. "You know, darling, I could hear you..." he said after changing the tape. He stood up and walked back to your form as he leaned over and looked you in the eyes with his empty eyes and said, "Don't even try. You know there's nothing you can do."

[blue-slxt]

Flattery

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: This is my first new piece on my new blog. I've had this little drabble idea sitting in my notes for weeks and the motivation finally hit me to get it out. I like the idea of Lo'ak with a praise kink. It just feels right. Sorry it's so short, but I really just kinda wanted this to be a super focused scene. I'll add more to the story later if people want it. All characters are aged up.

Pairing: Lo'ak x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Face Riding, Oral (F receiving), Praise Kink, I think that's it

Word Count: 500+

Summary: Lo'ak loves to be praised and you love giving it to him.

One thing you learned about Lo’ak before you even started officially dating? He lives for praise. From the moment the word “sayrìp” rolled off your tongue in his direction, he was hooked. It didn’t take long for you to notice how he would light up with every word of flattery you offered him. And it was understandable. He had spent so much of his life chasing approval, so having you shower him with compliments stroked his ego and made his heart race. And you were more than happy to do it for him. It’s not like your words were hollow, you truly meant everything you ever said. Lo’ak is very handsome, he’s strong, and brave, even if he sometimes bordered on being reckless. And best of all, he aimed to please.

Watching him right now underneath you was a gorgeous sight. Face between your thighs and strong hands gripping your ass while your hips rock against his tongue. Loud, shameless moans fall from your lips and spur him on even more knowing he was making you feel good.

Your hand reaches down and strokes the top of his head while you look in his eyes, “Ah, fuck, I love you so much, baby. You doing such a good job for me.”

The lovestruck expression of his eyes juxtaposed with the obscene slurping sounds from his mouth is enough to make your head spin. He groans into your heat and the vibrations shoot straight up your spine making all the hair on your body feel like it’s standing on end.

“Mmf…right there. Haah…you feel so good, Lo’ak!” Your head falls back letting your body submit to your inevitable high that’s rushing to you.

“You love me, baby?” you ask finally bringing your face back up so you can look at him.

‘Mhm’ is all he can muffle out.

“Shit, just like that….you gonna let me cum in your mouth?” you can barely get your words out between your heavy panting.

“mhmm” you knew he couldn’t really answer you properly, but you just wanted to feel the vibrations of his humming against you to help you get to your release. Your hands catch in his braids and your body continues to move on its own literally riding out your orgasm on top of him. Lo’ak’s fingers dig into the soft skin of your ass while he indulges himself in your arousal flowing into his mouth. Every drag of your clit against his tongue seems to prolong your high until coherent thoughts are no longer possible.

Your hips finally lull to a stop, but that does nothing to stop Lo’ak from continuing to feast on you like he hasn’t eaten in days. Finally, you have to pull yourself off of him when the stimulation becomes too much. His lips release your clit with a loud ‘pop’ and he looks up at you with lidded eyes and heavy breaths. Your hand cups his cheek that was still sticky with your juices.

“You are so gorgeous covered in my cum.”

Your body shivers when you catch sight of his fangs in his grin. Your fingers trail down his body to grip his dick. He was already so hard and covered in streams of precum while you give him a few solid strokes.

“Mmm, you always do so good, baby.” Your voice is low getting close by his ear. Gentle kisses and nips along his jawline make his hips jerk up into your hand. “Let me show you how much I appreciate you.”

Taglist: @soleilmoon @netemoon @fifia-writes @strangersav11

@eywascall @neteyamsluvts @heart-an0n @iman-lu @xylianasblog @theunfortunateplace @hyejusdiary @savvysscandles @randxmthxughts @tiredmamaissy @yeosxxx @sullymenrhot @atwow69 @bellstwd @iseeyouuu @afro-hispwriter @simp4ff @universal-s1ut @lokokokkok @parisdailysposts @mynameisjuno @andraga12 @tallulah477 @uaze123 @nelissecrectplace  @ayoushs-stuff @angrypomeranianwifey @perfectxserendipity @yumimak @rainbowturdz @rhiannonhippiegirl

(Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist. If your tag isn't working, please check your settings.)

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

19 - Trust in the Gentle Rasps

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 14.5k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, discussions of warfare, suicidal ideation, grief and trauma, jealousy, posessive tendencies, male sexual assault victim discussion, smut, oral (f receiving), slight canon divergence

Notes: This was one of my favorite chapters to write by far, so hope you enjoy! Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here.

Your quiet was palpable since nearing the water. Travelling west along the runs of the Wall had been easy, but it also meant that none of it felt quite real until now. Much like the last time it seemed, once arriving the body of water needing to cross, you could no longer deny what you were walking into. As soon as the men had crossed the bridge over the Trident it was blood which followed for years until you lay in your own. But whereas then your quiet was the uncertainty of what was to come, this time your quiet was the shadowing memories of what was lost. 

Bringing death and loss to the doorsteps of those who experienced it beside you last time, only now the plea was desperate and you were not the person any would remember. Asking them to make the same choice that ended in a massacre only so that they could hope to stand and fight against one even darker upon the horizon. Camp was being made some distance from the shore as you hovered back. 

The footsteps which approached you belonging to one of the only people brave enough to approach you when poised with such tense rigidness and sharp cold in your eyes as you looked over things. “I didn’t imagine you were one to stand back and watch others take over for you.” Nothing but curiosity in Ser Davos’s voice as you both stood side by side now. You didn’t respond but he took no offence. “Not from what I saw in you that day, either. You’re a more confident leader then this, your grace.” 

Fingers clenching in your crossed arms before inhaling deeply. “I am not the one they chose to follow. If I had to do this alone, I would have. But not a single one of these men would be here if he wasn’t.” Your eyes sharp as they followed Jon across the way. 

You were more distant with him then ever. 

“He is only here because of you.” 

A waver in your breath, you finally glanced away from the distant figure to look at Ser Davos. Slightly shaking your head as you tried to stand as calm and unaffected as you could manage. “He’s here because the North is his home, and he’s fighting to protect it. Doesn’t need me for that. The North never has.” 

You didn’t want to see the understanding sympathy in Davos’s eyes, you knew it wasn’t just one you were talking of. You failed to see yourself as anything worthy in either of their lives and only the remaining wonder if you had not been there, would they have avoided death? Was your presence this time an omen that blood would follow once more for such a leader? You were too involved in a life he had been forging without you. 

Leaning down more towards your side, his own voice lowered to match your tone. “You wouldn’t know that if you keep avoiding him, now would you?” Turning away as your eyes peeled from him in a glare to out back to the settling camp of free folk your jaw clenched harshly. “I’m not trying to involve myself in your affairs, your grace, but I do know he’s as tense as you are. And two tense leaders who refuse to speak to each other isn’t what I’d call good for morale.” 

It would be so much easier if you didn’t feel as if your lives were constantly trying to circle around each others like magnetic pulls wishing to attach. Would be easier if you just could detach from whatever this all was and do what needs to be done and forget the rest. But you didn’t have nearly enough of your father in you for that. 

“I wasn’t the one who acted as their peacekeeper, not sure these men really would care about what I add to their spirits or not. Seem to be doing just fine.” Truly you were grateful but you could slink into the waters ahead and never return, and the cause and leader they followed would stay the same. 

Good thing about Davos, he knew well enough when to not push one or the other. Unfortunate for you, there was very little he could broach that wasn’t going to give you a headache further. “Surprised me that you allowed your mother to come along.” 

“So was she.” You gave her little room to argue or question, but you knew leaving her alone either at Castle Black or worse, sending her home unprotected at Dragonstone was only with grim prospects. “If all she has left is me, then it does not matter what issues lay between us. She would have no one left, and that...mother’s need something, someone left to live for no matter how strained.” 

Your instructions were clear, she is not to involve herself in this war or planning in anyway, and she is to keep thoughts of this religion of hers to herself. The last thing this cause needed was more whispers of unnatural abilities or other world like purposes. “She’s not good at saying it, but she’s grateful you care. Though most of your family isn’t good at saying what they mean, are you?” 

It barley caught the hint of even the halfest of smirks. More of a tiny glint in your eye that faded as quickly as it sparked as he continued. “Never seen this many wildlings in once place.” 

“I think they prefer the term, free folk.” 

Right back to the start he was correcting himself. “Never seen this many free folk in once place.” 

“If I’m not mistaken, Ser Davos neither you or I have ever seen any free folk until meeting them, period.” Technically you had met one but hardly for long. Bran had told Sam that Osha took Rickon alone to saftey when he went beyond the wall with Howland Reed’s children. You had no reason not to trust her, you just hoped she could keep him safe in the same overwhelming dread of two teenagers, Hodor, and Summer all there was to keep Bran safe beyond the wall. Not noting your wondering mind, Davos chuckled beside you, and you wished you could as well. “I just hope they understand what they’re truly getting involved in.” 

You heard the man before you saw him, a rumbling laugh before he was brave enough to slap an arm around your shoulder as the simple force jostled you. “You doubting us already, pretty crow?” Never did quite get used to how large Tormund stood beside you, like a cliff that was pained orange only with much more vulgar echoes. 

Flickering your eyes to the side, you didn’t move much more but there was at least more of a hint of amusement then before. “No. I simply understand it’s a strange fight you’ve decided to involve yourselves in, after everything that’s happened I mean.” 

Shrugging to himself, he looked back to the camp and pulled you in closer. Giving Ser Davos a slight bit of whiplash as to how used to being yanked around by such a large figure you appeared. You spent three years with Maege Mormont, you were no stranger to being jostled around by loud personalities, but the thought made you swallow. Trying not to think about what would happen when you get there and who wasn’t. You knew Dacey hadn’t gotten out that day, and it made you sick to think about. 

The two Mormont’s meant much to you, helped ease you into something normal in an army camp as they cared not to watch their tones with you. Dacey didn’t deserve to have her life end at the Twins like that, none of them did. Too many faces you wondered about, some more then others.

Tormund beside you, paid no mind to your thoughts. “After everything? You mean after seeing the dead rise up after getting slaughtered? You southerners aren’t so bad compared to that.” 

A moment of quiet between you three before finally speaking up in more command. “I want you coming with us when we travel across.” Both men turned to you with a curious look but you only kept your eye out onto the distant water. “We stayed a ways back so they wouldn’t feel ambushed, but if we are going to get them to say yes, then we shouldn’t shy away from the fact that they’ll be agreeing to fight beside your people.” 

A deep humour in his voice with long exaggerated sound out of each word, “I am honoured, your grace.” 

For once, that actually got a small smirk out of you. A lightness in your tone that tried to fight away and failed. “Now that just sounded wrong coming out of your mouth.” Tormund laughed as well, knowing only he was watching a far pair of eyes narrowing in this very direction. 

Choosing to look as much in them as he could manage as he leaned down to you, “So what does a pretty crow like you prefer to be called?” 

Rolling your eyes at such a jest, you fell not for the bait without knowing it was even cast. “Tormund, I am fairly certain it doesn’t matter what I say you will just continue to call me whatever term finds itself in your head.” 

It would not be many of you, Jon, Davos, Tormund, Theon, Selyse, and yourself being escorted to the main land of Bear Island hoping it sent a message of civility. There was no real threat of enemy being given from House Mormont and yet as you stepped onto the deck of the boat you felt your heart race. It didn’t matter how many of you there were. An army didn’t save from a massacre the last time you went to a meeting with what was supposed to be an ally. 

Still, you stayed on the opposite end as he did. If you didn’t know what to say in private then you were surely lost as to what to say to him in the fake quiet just out of others earshot. But you felt his eyes on you, and thus yours stayed attached to the waters ahead. 

“Starting to tell who is used to being on a ship.” Turning to look at Theon, your eyes were slightly squinting from the winds in them but otherwise a little more calm washed through. You were perched against the back wall leading to the bow with both legs hanging over the deck and a hand resting casually on a rope by you. He gestured to your posture himself, “Don’t think I’ve seen you this relaxed in a while either.” 

Theon leaned against the edge, his arms folded against the wood just beside where you sat looking out to the waters passing. “You forget, I grew up on an island as well. Spent half my time on ships going from White Harbour, to Dragonstone, to King’s Landing and back. This is nothing.” 

Davos was the only other who found agreement in the breeze. Long time his job was travelling along waters but in the recent years of his life they weren’t in hiding from any eyes. At least he and your mother were used to keeping the other’s company by this point. You didn’t want her to be alone, but that didn’t mean you had a clue how to talk to her. 

Both you and Theon stuck to looking out to the waters with little focus on any else, it was nice. For a moment, it felt like the days when you were both just teenagers not having to care about the politics around. “I forgot until I got there, how salty Pyke smelled. Even in the summer Winterfell was always so crisp and it wasn’t until I was on a boat did I remember that not being able to smell the sea used to be so odd.” 

You managed to find half a smile in your heart, “I always thought anywhere would be better then Dragonstone. Only on the beach did it really smell like the sea, otherwise the further from the castle you go, the more it just smells like brimstone. The deeper into the trees you go the worse that gets.” You could still see her. Hoisted up onto the edge of a rock so she sat level with your height as you both looked down to where you knew deep tunnels were formed under the surface. She hardly left the main bounds of the castle, so Shireen always loved the smell of brimstone. To her it was like the scent of adventure. 

Amused slightly, he asked, “You saying Winterfell smells worse then that place?” 

No hesitation as your face grimaced in the memory. “No, I’m saying that King’s Landing smells worse then all it combined.” Theon looking curiously at you, but your eyes only kept in the distance as the land grew closer. “Too many people packed into too small of a city, everyone is poor the moment you leave the Red Keep and no one cares about it. Add a summer heat onto that and you get the worse smelling city you’ve ever come across. That I certainly don’t miss.” 

“Do you miss anything about it?” 

You were quick, tone dropping to something harsh. “No. I was always miserable there. Either I was being dragged away from my sister, or I was being dragged away from..” Swallowing thickly you tried to drop the weight from so high in your throat. “Constantly going from King’s Landing to Winterfell was awful. I was so miserable everytime I got back to the capitol and everyone knew it. Renly used to always say everywhere but Winterfell disagreed with me.” 

“He was right.” Your eyes finally meeting. “Much as we try to tell ourselves otherwise, or how long we spent where we grew up, the North was our home. Where our actual family was.” Not a sea sick, but that weight dropped from your throat to your heart and the dizziness from it made you feel nauseous. 

“Hard to remember that some days.” 

It wasn’t home where you were both kept, it wasn’t home where you were trapped and tortured sometimes only done in mocking of the other. It wasn’t family that brought you back home, that wasn’t a place you belonged. That wasn’t the home what Robb once told you that you belonged in. Even if this was successful, even if you reclaimed it, it was hard to imagine finding a home there once more behind this loneliness.

“Do you ever wonder whether or not it would’ve been better if you left me there?” You didn’t look, you could feel a narrowed sharp gaze on you from Theon but you didn’t want to handle it beyond the swirling in your own mind. “Escape with your own life, and spare the spiral of death that’s done nothing but follow where I go now?” 

The weight in his voice made you feel only more sick on the inside. “No. But do you know what it is I do wonder? Whether or not you’ve actually gotten past wishing you were still dead.” A stab in your mind pricked at something that was sharp and full of a sting behind your eyes. “For a long time with him, there was nothing. Took everything about who I was and killed it. Until he dragged me down to see you. And then the only thing that kept me trying to fight to stay myself was knowing that any day I could wake up and you would’ve taken your own life just to make him stop. So I got you out of there, got us out but then some days, I don’t know if I really did. I think you’re still trapped with Ramsay wishing you were dead.” 

Truth be told, he wasn’t wrong. Theon knew what that pain inside you was, because he had watched it fester for over a year before you finally ran out into the freezing cold to escape it. But you were still in that place, reliving those nightmares from The Twins and waking up to the violence Ramsay would enjoy throwing your way. And ever since leaving all you did was drag that violence and burden along behind you to weigh down and hurt everyone else with. 

And it was nothing but feeling selfish that made you want to jump into these waters and let it take you to the bottom forever. Who would still be alive were you to have stayed dead? If not beside Robb, then at least by taking the less cowardly route and end yourself before you brought this blood to others doorsteps. “There are far too many eyes on me at all times to get away with that now.” 

To you it was meant as a joke, but to Theon it was anything but. “No. You’re just going to make the rest of us watch as you do it slowly over time.” 

You didn’t argue. He didn’t elaborate. Theon was right but you had no defence, excuse or otherwise to refute it. The only good memories you had left, the only things you found to give any breathe in your lungs were marred in only doing it beacuse you were weak. At least that was what it felt like.

Bear Island was a far more beautiful Island then Dragonstone. Cliff sides of rock that were naturally carved into the thick trees surrounding each clearing of land and water that splashed against them or poured down from pools pocketing the surface. The air was as crisp as ever and the faint misting of water against those rocky shores poured back down onto the boat. 

You always loved that mist. In the heat of summer it was a refreshing reprieve from how thick the air was that only ever faded the closer to King’s Landing you sailed. Calm waters in a dense and busy port that was as loud and crowded as it was hot. This wasn’t that, you jumped down from your perched place and braced both hands onto the edge of the boat to look over the coming Keep with wider eyes. 

The last time you looked out to the water shining in the sun also painted in your mind, and you felt a twisting in your stomach and the freezing that followed as it bled out in minutes. Suddenly there was a lot less calm, and far more creeping dread inside that you could feel yourself growing dizzy from it’s volume. 

As the ship finally docked, you inhaled with your eyes firmly shut for a moment before turning to rejoin the world. Meeting Jon’s eyes as you both made your way to the middle, there was a moment of just firm understanding for the meeting to come. Whatever this was, you had to do it together it was the only way. 

He didn’t put a hand on you as he gestured politely for you to pass, but he could easily see the unusual amount of tension strung high in your shoulders. A few guards coming to greet you as Jon took the mantle up to introduce you both by proper name. Keeping it as unmessy as possible with titles now that you both know what of that loomed.  

It was strange though, realizing for the first time you had never heard Jon refer to you as anything but a Baratheon. Hearing Stark felt wrong coming from him, but you weren’t sure why, not realizing it was just as strange for him to say it. You as a Stark felt like a different person then the one he knew for so many years, but yet in the quiet and dark you were exactly that same Baratheon he remembered. 

If there was talking around you or Jon, neither of you really noticed it. Conversation scattered behind you both between four behind you, who other then now would never have conceived of meeting and ahead two people who knew each other far better then this hurtful silence had any right being attached too. 

Tormund and Theon finding a strange array of things to talk about, both coming from culture’s with some of the most bloodshed focused of traditions. Davos and Selyse alongside them, much more quiet but still civil and calm. If any of them noticed the oddity that was the painful silence between you and Jon, none spoke of it. 

Coming up to the steps of the castle, you tried not to glance beside you, not to notice the way the mist of the shores had his curls sitting a little less wild in it’s dampness. And biting your tongue with a glare to nothing trying very much to ignore the images in your head and memories your body was asking to relive. 

But as he turned to you, if Jon noticed the intentions behind your already watching eyes he didn’t address it. Voice low and in a bit of comfort to your own, sounded the faintest hint of unsure. “Hope you and I know the Mormont’s as well we think.” 

Easing those same nerves as you were led inside you nodded to the sword at his side. “I wasn’t the one who was trusted to be given their ancient sword.” 

His own tone was more teasing, as was the glint in his eyes looking back at you. “And I’m not the one they followed into war calling a Queen.” 

Your eyes now on the halls in front, missing the genuine smile you got from him. “Would be a bit strange if they started calling you a Queen, Snow.” That was a small jest he felt it had been a long time since he had heard from you. Always calling him that only when you were in your own gentle teasing mood, yet it was never even possible to match the levels he could dish to you in particular. 

Still, something about how easily the lightness slipped from your mouth, felt like hope. 

Alysane Mormont looked remarkably like a younger version of her mother. Tall and large with a bright look in her eye as she stood behind the one sitting in the desk. This one you heard of more, the youngest, Lyanna sat very small and young at only ten. Alysane was older, but seemed to be giving the youngest a chance at being in charge as she watched her carefully.

At least until Jon went to greet them both. Which was when the older one spoke up looking at you with a squint. “Never thought we’d see a Queen in our halls. Let alone a dead one.” 

Her tone was light, but gods was the look and air shared between you and Jon anything but. You wanted to be intimidating, wanted to put on the best face but you knew their mother and you knew it wasn’t stilted formality the older woman had responded too. 

Your own glance to Alysane with a raised eyebrow, “I never thought I’d wake up after dying. We both get to experience something new.” It was very easy to see her mother in her, letting her sister take the reigns but she watched with something like a fondness as you softened a bit. “I also know Dacey wasn’t given the same chance, and I’m sorry.” 

Little Lyanna was as quick as she had been described. “It wasn’t you who killed her.” 

You wanted none of that, looking more seriously at her. “No, I didn’t. But someone should take responsibility for it, and she called me Queen which means it’s me to take that blame.” 

Her eyes narrowed with a strange look to you, as Alysane turned to look beside you. “You’re here, which means this is Jon Snow, I take it? The King’s brother.” 

It was heavy between both of you, and his voice was rough as he spoke. “I am. I also served under your Uncle at Castle Black, my lady. I was his steward.” 

Lyanna watched, but it was recognition in her sister’s eyes that was of interest. Glancing down only for a second to where the hilt of Longclaw could be seen, before glancing back up to look at him with something that certainly made the air feel a little more interesting. “Last I heard you were named Lord Commander after him. What’s Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch doing at our Queen’s side all the way here?” 

You narrowed your eyes, as she certainly would know. But Jon didn’t play along with whatever game the ladies were trying to set up as he looked to Lyanna. “We’re here to ask for your help. I know Stannis Baratheon tried to pledge your house to his army, and I was shown your response, Lady Lyanna. Bear Island knows no King, but the King in the North. Whose name is Stark.” 

Moment of weakness, your eyes flickered over to him. Standing tall and sure it was easy to see why he’d be chosen as Lord Commander. Even in deep quiet tones, he spoke as a leader. 

“Now I may not be a Stark in name, but Robb was my brother, and the home and Kingdom he died for is being torn apart by the Boltons. And I also know that the same man who murdered him and shoved a knife in her stomach.” Jon gestured to you with something of a controlled anger in his voice and clear as day on his face. “Kept your Queen as their prisoner, and spent almost a year being tortured by them beyond anything you can imagine. Roose and Ramsay Bolton cannot be allowed to keep Winterfell, and as long as they do, the North will continue to suffer. With Robb gone, that means it is my duty to stop them.” 

Unseen by most of the party, but as Ser Davos stood to the side there was a bit of a proud smile trying to fight it’s way onto his face. Jon was not quite as stubborn as Stannis had seemed to think. 

The younger one glancing to her sister before turning back to the pair of you with her own doubtful eyes. “You mean to protect the North, but you bring wildlings into our land, and one into my home?” 

 An eyebrow raised on you, “Forgive me, my lady but it seems you might be misunderstanding what we are here for.” All eyes turned to you as you found something of a voice, “Jon and I are not here to ask you to make friends. The Free Folk and the Night’s Watch have been fighting each other for thousands of years and yet now there is an army of them on the mainland who followed Jon all this way because they understand this is more important then who our enemies were before.” 

Something in you couldn’t let it passed. Something deep that remembered, as you sat against the bars in an unknowing shock, staring at the corpse of the man next to you. And in the worst of that moment, it was Tormund who came to sit at your side. Who helped you stand and regain your focus to do what needed to be done that day. “Both of these men fought against each other, murdered men on the other side of their fight but now they stand here together because they understand that if we can’t protect the North from each other then we cannot protect it from whats coming.” 

A silence was thick in that room. “And what exactly is coming, your grace?” 

You could see the visions and dreams of cold and ice but it was Jon who answered for you. “Summer is over, and winter isn’t just coming, my lady. It’s already here. And when the worst of it hits, so will the dead, and with them, the Others.” Both women shared a look, but there was no amusement in any of the eyes in the room standing before them. Jon’s own was filled with a haunting memory. “I went to Hardhome beyond the wall to bring the free folk south, because the Others are awake, and they’re building their own army. I saw them, I fought them, I even killed one of them and when it was all over I watched every single person who died stand up beside them.” 

Stepping forward to the desk, there was an undeniable determination in his eyes that made both Mormonts almost shrink back from it’s intensity. His palms leaning against the desk to properly look the more defiant one on equal ground. “If we can’t protect the North from ourselves, then when the Others come, we won’t stand a chance. The free folk have attacked Bear Island many times over I know that, they held me prisoner in their own lands where at any moment he,” 

He turned partially, gesturing to Tormund behind him, “or any of the others I was with were ready to kill me the second they realized I wasn’t on their side. But now he’s trusted his people with me, because we cannot fight a war amongst ourselves and expect there to be enough of us to fight the only one that matters. There’s no hiding from this. We have to fight, and we have to do it together. All of us.”

Alysane looked at you with a questioning gaze that you almost willed her not to bring up. Letting Lyanna prove her valour and stand her ground in making a choice for her people, and it was a relieving feeling when the small girl looked up at Jon almost impressed. “House Mormont has kept faith with House Stark for thousands of years. And we will not break faith today.” 

Jon nodded, standing up straighter. “Thank you, my lady. But I’m not asking you on behalf of House Stark. I’m only asking you to protect the North we both grew up in, not for my family, and not for any oaths you swore to them. I’m a Northerner just like you, all I’m asking is you fight beside me as one as well.” 

Your eyes slipped shut. You knew she was going to say it, and it was precisely why you wanted Jon to understand exactly what this was going to be. Alysane was the one who likely knew it, if not both the surely the now eldest daughter she would know. “Are you though?” 

Jon turned his head to her, a confusion in his own eyes that slipped to a well hidden realization. If he were to be honest if you had asked, he had almost forgotten about that conversation. It was a little too easy, almost embarrassingly so to forget that conversation when he was torn between this coming wars and trying very hard not to obsess like an animal over how to fix things between you. 

But as she spoke, you could feel all four pairs of eyes turn to you from behind as Jon looked at Alysane. Perhaps you should have warned them of this as well. “Only asking us a Northerner? The King in the North we chose was your brother. My mother brought our men to fight for Robb Stark against the Lannisters, my eldest sister was killed the same night the Freys and Boltons killed the King, and his Queen.” Her eyes were curious and it painfully reminded you of the knowing look Maege Mormont had given you when you realized she knew you were hiding being with child. 

Your voice was a bit cracked, as Jon took a step back now closer to your side then he was when this meeting first started. Speaking, you tried not to think about how comforting being close to him currently felt. “If you would like Lady Alysane, Jon and I could stand here and show you the scars that killed us both if you are with doubt of our story or intentions, though it might be a tad indecent in front of your younger sister.”

They had heard rumours of you, but not of him and yet not a single one in your own group looked as if it were untrue or merely a joke. House Mormont was your best shot, and you knew you had to lay our cards out on the table as plain as possible. No matter how uncomfortable. 

For a moment she looked taken back, “Your grace that was not..” She glanced between you both with something in her eyes that looked just like the awing fear many had thrown you and Jon at Castle Black and amongst the free folk. “It was not my intention to doubt, we have no reason to think either of yourselves would come to us with lies. My mother trusted you, and my uncle you.” Nodding to you then Jon respectively. “I merely mean he isn’t just asking us as a Northerner-”

You could still see two faces, one on Jons of a stunned feeling when you told him, and the other of Robb as there was nothing but confidence and love as he made it clear to all of his decision. You were quiet, and Jon was thankful you spoke for him this time. “Help us reclaim the North first. Nothing is as important as this fight, right now. The Bolton’s will soon know we are coming for them and we need as much of the North together as we can for when we come to their doors.” 

The two Mormonts shared a look. Lady Lyanna looking up to both of you, “I can give you sixty two of my our own household guard, and whatever of our own men my mother can provide you with.” 

Your eyes perked up slightly, as did a jolt in your heart. She was one you did not know the fate of. “Is she currently available to meet with ourselves?” 

Alysane tilted her head in question, “She should be returning to the keep by nightfall, left us in charge while she rallied up men as soon a she got your raven, your grace.” You and her both looked at each other with a unique little moment of glee. Alysane had heard much of you, not just as a Queen, but as someone who her mother clearly considered a most valuable friend. “We can provide you all with food and room for the night if you are willing to wait here for her return.” 

Grey eyes found yours, and in your single nod, Jon wasn’t sure but he seemed to sense exactly what it was you were saying. Or more, you seemed to understand his silent question and agreed. “You’re very kind, we would be glad too.” 

A small comment from Davos, that it seemed, managed to make the little Lyanna smile a bit more like the child she was. “If these men are half as ferocious as you two, the Boltons are doomed.”

It was just as you were departing, did Alysane call for you once more. Turning back into the room you looked expectantly. “There is a man in your group, one who looks an awful lot like Theon Greyjoy.” 

She said nothing else of the matter, but you didn’t even move to fully face her as you spoke with a quiet sternness. “That would be beacuse he is, my lady.” Asking why you would allow him here with his life you didn’t even blink. “It was the sentence given by both the King in the North and myself for Theon to be brought to him for execution. And now he stands by my side with his head intact. I will only ask you trust that means his crimes have been paid for, and mention it no more.” 

It was that very one who was turned back to watch as you finally followed, and for just a moment you both looked to the other with a distant unsettled feeling. These people will have no idea just what he’d been through and how many times over it paid for his crimes. But as you nodded for him to move forward along side you, you figured that if they could trust wildlings through Jon they could trust Theon through you.

Nightfall seemed to bring storm clouds onto Bear Island. The gold of the evening fading out as you considered if it was worthwhile to bother heading inside. Not on the side of too dark, but the wind picked up as soon no doubt rain would splatter onto the waters you were looking out at in a matter of time. 

Deepwood Motte was where you would descend on next and reports were still accurate, Ironborn likely still sat deep in the area and getting House Glover on your side would require a fight no doubt. It felt like a lifetime seen you’d seen any kind off violence on fair battle, more so making you wonder if you even had it in you anymore. This wasn’t the same unified fight as it once was, this was a scattered group desperate to unify before it was too late. Group of people who were struggling to find harmony when there was no question of that the first time. 

Everything this time around already started in something broken. A cause that you had to convince people of, from two people who could barley look at each other by now. All this talk of what was meant and destined, but it all felt so disjointed the second you two were alone. You never used to be this way, it was always so easy being with Jon. 

If you were being true to yourself, you were fairly certain that the night before this all kicked off was the first time either of you had ever even argued. Normally finding little to even disagree on, and it wasn’t something you enjoyed doing. You liked getting to the point or just shutting it out until it simmered but then he kept talking and you couldn’t keep it to yourself. You had spoken more today then the entire journey to get to Bear Island from Castle Black. 

Maybe you could slink way in the rain, disappear and him to lead this fight as a true leader on his own and find success within that. 

Enough time had passed all on your own that you hadn’t noticed until the sun begun to set. Didn’t notice that you had missed any appearance in a meal. Your back laid flat on the edge of a stone walls, just looking out to the lands and water, hoping when it rained you would melt with it. 

Jon really should have known better. He knew Tormund was trying to poke at him, trying to set off something that the man knew he was holding back and yet he still let it get to him. Earlier that day, there was no other reason he was making such direct eye contact with him across the camp other then to burn that part of Jon’s insides that hated seeing someone else with you so freely.

He had never had that, and he still didn’t. He could, it didn’t seem like many objected to the idea and even noticed on his part. Uncomfortably he was well aware of the curious stares your mother had been giving him, and he had no idea how to feel about that. Like every Baratheon in your family, Selyse was incredibly hard to read beyond such a stoned expression and sharp but watchful eyes. Even moreso now that much of this group had stuck together since arriving, but like you, she was very quiet.

He had known the woman seemed to be pushing you to some ideas of destiny. It was that of a trick he did, but having no idea where you were, Jon focused enough. Just the right amount of energy that never stopped feeling bone chilling when it happened. If he did it now it would be even stranger, Ghost being on the mainlands and none would know it was Jon through his eyes. But he trusted them to keep peace without having to babysit. 

You however, he was started to think he should just chain you to him for how often you slunk away on your own. Missing the offer of food from the Mormonts, no one knew where you were. And it was that damned orange haired smug smile of Tormund's as he looked to Jon, “Aye, she probably just needs the right kind of company. If no one else objects-” 

Jon took it upon himself to stand abruptly from the table with a deep grumble as he glared. “No need. I’ll go.” Before walking out without waiting for any response. He never had to deal with what this was. It was different with Robb, neither of you chose that and Jon left before he was forced to watch whatever it turned into. Until he did, but from what he knew now that you’d seen a fair share of your own. 

Jon knew why it was more difficult for you. Neither you nor Robb had any choice, it was a surprise to everyone and you made the best of what you were dealt. He wasn’t lying when he said he wanted you and Robb to love each other and he was proud his brother did find someone who made him happy. But no one involved got to choose, there was no freedom there. 

But he never talked about Ygritte, and all you could gather was whispers from others and what the gods had unfairly chosen to show you. All you had seen, was Jon finding something with her that he could never have with you. Ygritte herself tried to argue with him that this was freedom, he could choose to do whatever he wanted and it didn’t matter what they were long as they had each other. 

Freedom of course, coming at the cost of Jon’s well being. It took a very long time for him to admit the truth to himself and even now it felt pathetic to say. But it was her, or death. Nothing else. Prove your worth they said, and proving it was to give her the one thing Jon had spent years dreaming of sharing with you. Convince himself it was good just because of how it felt, telling himself because sometimes he saw the amusing sides of her that that was the true picture. 

But then you asked him that final night and the last of his lies snapped and he let it all explode between the two of you. You had gone to the top of the wall before, looking out to the North one last time in the freezing cold. “I should take you to see how strange it looks from the South during the daytime in some places.” 

“I think I already have.” 

Posed on the edge of the bed he looked up to you, both of your minds trailing to that strange moment thousands of miles away from each other. Eyes wide before something uncomfortable sat in his chest and moved to his heart. Swallowing with a nod he dropped his head. “Right.” He didn’t in that moment know why he spat it out, but he did. “I didn’t love her. Ygritte..I didn’t love her.”

You paused mid movement, turning away from him as your brows narrowed, mumbling. “It isn’t my business if you did.” Jon trying to call your name, get you to look at him but you just shook your head facing away from him. “She was someone you could be with, could be together with. I wouldn’t blame you.” 

Jon sighed, trying to get you to look at him but you just kept looking away. You weren’t malicious, or cruel, or even going for something with an agenda. It was an innocent, quiet question. “Why not? Love her I mean. Why not?” 

It was unfair to let it out on you but he did. “You’re really asking me why I didn’t love her? You?” 

Turning around it was obvious you were confused, but he barrelled on through your protests of confusion at his anger. “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved my entire life. Do you really think the second you’re gone I’m going to just fall for the first woman who comes along? That I forgot about you that easy?” You tried saying his name but he was getting louder, and he knew he needed to pull it back but it wasn’t really you he was looking at. 

It was a far more defiant face who pushed him and pushed him all day long until she broke him enough that he relented, and then every support she gave him was in value of something Jon never was or wanted to be. An anger in her own eyes that you never even came close to looking at him with, and a combative attitude that was exhausting, and would constantly strip away at his own self worth. 

Standing up, he saw your guarded expression as you barley blinked or moved only for it to look like her smug smirk that mocked him relentlessly until he was exactly what she wanted. “Spending every night having to put my own direwolf between us beacuse she’d spend the whole time trying to get close to me, mocking me for never sleeping with a woman just because it was the one string she could pull at and get a reaction? Are those the things I should have fallen in love with?” 

You didn’t know these things, and he knew that. 

“Or was it when every single person in their camp wanted me dead and the only way I could protect my own life, was to send Ghost away because I knew he’d never let her near me if he stayed? Or how the only reason I even could stand touching her was beacuse I kept seeing you in my head instead?” He was right in front of you by that point and you hadn’t moved what so ever. He wasn’t even sure you had blinked. “That’s the person you think I should've fallen in love with after you? A girl who didn’t respect a single thing about me, and was only letting me stay alive beacuse she took everything I had left to defend myself and made me fuck her against my will.”

He never said it out loud like that, and as soon as he did, Jon felt something twist inside of him he did not like. Something that felt sickening. And as you looked at him with soft eyes that he wanted to fall into, he instead let his head spin and skin feel filthy. 

You softly muttered his name, “Jon..”

Jon had refused to let himself come any closer. Turning around and running a hand over his mouth looking at the floor before you. “Ygritte took everything from me that I always wanted to give to you, and then had me tricking myself into thinking it was real only as long as it kept me alive. And while I was lying to myself about being with her, you and Robb were murdered. When I finally got away, I tried to play off her feelings and say she wouldn’t hurt me because she loved me and it got me shot full of arrows and dreaming about you in a pool of your own blood only to wake up and find out it was real.” 

Clearly you were trying to keep an even tone in your whisper. “Why not tell someone the truth?” 

He glared at you, when you didn’t deserve it voice deep as it rasped out, “No one would believe me. A man of the Night’s Watch letting a wildling girl take advantage of him? The only person who would’ve cared about any of it was dead, and when I finally get her back in front of me, she tells me I’m wasting my time trying to love her again. You think that makes me feel good?” 

You bit your tongue, and Jon hadn’t quite grasped until later that it was your own nightmares flashing through your mind, showing exactly why you weren’t worth someone like him. You had always held him in a higher regard then he thought he deserved, and he knew you were still doing it now. Only now it was with a lot more pain. 

“I wasn’t trying to..I didn’t know..I’m sorry.” 

It was tense in the air, and something needed to break before it all was thick enough to choke on. Jon did it first as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Neither of you looking at each other. “I know you loved Robb, and he loved you. I wanted you both to and I’m happy you loved each other when you had the chance. But I never wanted to love anybody but you, and I never will. So don’t stand there and tell me I deserved to love someone who stood against every kindness you ever showed me.”

You could only whisper you were sorry, before you walked out. And he hadn’t seen you until morning, a stiff, steeled expression in your eyes and posture. Jon felt a lot of regret, you didn’t deserve to be yelled at for the things Ygritte did, but you were nothing if not an expert at avoiding him these past days. 

And it wasn’t until you two walked up to the Keep of Bear Island did he feel like he was slowly getting a bit you back. Now as he looked for you, natural instincts told him where to look. Along the edges of the Keep closer to the water where the setting sun lay and brushing storm clouds were swooping in from. 

You always liked cliff sides and water’s edge. No doubt a time from growing up on Dragonstone, and so Jon begun searching along each corner for you, trying to run around in his mind figuring out how to ease you into an apology. How to make it better for yelling at you, even though a sinking part of him had a feeling that you would just forgive him without question. 

Not wanting to risk making him mad, and he could only angrily think of how cruel Ramsay was to you to try and beat that little spark and tough fire inside of you down to nothing like this. And how he would even begun putting that flame back like you deserved. You brought Jon back both in life and spirit and he wouldn’t stop until he did the same for you, no matter how you chose to accept him in your life anymore. 

Rounding one corner is when he spotted you, leaning back with your arms crossed against a pillar near a set of stairs as your eyes were trained hard on the road in the distance. Slowly Jon came up just behind you, seeing the horses in the distance and the galloping of what sounded like a fair number of them. “Where are the others?” 

Glancing back to you, there was almost a hint of anticipation in your eyes that for a moment almost looked childlike. It was strange, both of you so far away having found something of different companionship in the two eldest Mormonts. Leaning his head a bit closer to you, rumbling a bit quietly in your ear. “Hopefully making sure Tormund doesn’t scar Lady Lyanna for life.” 

You smirked a small bit, your mood having lightened somewhat since arriving. Even from what he could see, just being on the ship sent you at ease more. “From what I’ve seen I’m not sure there’s much that scares any of them.” 

“There is one thing.” His voice low and serious, you both glanced to each other in a knowing that convincing these people to fight a war against their enemies is one thing. Making the rest of the North believe in the rest was another. 

Your eyes softened a bit looking at him before you seemed to realize how long you had been, fluttering them back to the growing distance. “You were impressive back there. In that meeting. Leadership suits you.” 

Unlike you, Jon felt no need to hide the returning look to you and keep it there for far longer then would normally be considered appropriate. “I’m glad someone thinks so.” Your posture stiffened for only a second with almost panic swirling in your eyes before letting it deflate in a shaking exhale Jon knew you were hoping he didn’t see. 

The numbers that gathered were easily groups that were in the hundreds. The woman in front climbed down from a great horse, standing tall and large in stature with a harsh face that squinted as she looked up to both of you before settling on your own person. 

Ascending the stairs together, Jon watched the woman look you over before a great smile came over her. “Gods be good, the rumours are true.” You stood a few feet away from her with as much composure as you always had before the larger woman came forward closer to look at you closer. “We never thought you’d be a face we’d ever be seeing again, your grace.”

Only in a single second, the larger woman barrelled you in a large hug, one that she almost laughed into and Jon could see something tight and relieved in your own grip. Pulling you back by your forearms as she looked at you, Jon clearly seeing a smirk plastered on both almost like family. If he were being honest, it felt like a reunion you should have had with your actual mother. 

The woman with such a casualness, “And you still look just as shit as the last time I saw you.” 

Your tone was light, something much more like a genuine smile coming over the rest of your face as you breathed out from a laugh, “Happy to see you’re still around to keep all those beasts at bay.” As you leaned in for one more embrace, you seemed to have whispered something to her as when the woman turned to look at Jon, there was already a realization in her eyes she was keeping to herself as you stepped back between them.

Her gesturing towards him with her head in a playful glint. “Now, you going to introduce me to the handsome lad or what?” 

Coming closer to accept her now outstretched hand, “Jon Snow, my lady. I’m-”

The casual interruption with what she already knew already reminded him of the Old Bear. So nonchalantly would toss information at him Jon didn’t even know how the man found out. “I’ve heard all about you. You’re Robb Stark’s brother.” Stepping back he nodded as she glanced at him with a curiousness in her eye. “You also served under my brother up at the Wall.” 

“I did. He was a good man, deserved better then how he died.” 

You seemed to glance between them with a narrowed expression before turning to Maege with a more steeled expression once more. “I will go let your daughters know you’ve arrived back. Bring your men here up to speed while I’m at it.” 

He didn’t say anything, but there was a look in Jon’s eye trying to pull you back to him. To stop you from running away but as you ascended the steps with a few of those who rode up with some familiarity, Jon was beginning to think he was going to have to corner you to just get you to stay in one place. Not realizing he had been watching for far too long as Maege stepped closer to beside him. “Now I know it’s not me that woman’s running away from.”

There was a curious pointed look in her eye that Jon didn’t respond too. Trying to speak through a vaguely nervous tick of clearing his throat. “She’s been through a lot, still adjusting to some things.” 

Maege hummed as she looked at him for another moment before beckoning him to follow her up the steps. “It know too well it won’t help much, but I’m sorry about your brother.” His eyes flickered to the side to a knowing distant pain in the older womans. “Hearing your brother got butchered by his own men thousands of miles away from where you could even try to help. Awful way to die, awful way to find out they died.” 

Turning down a path to overlook the waters you likely had just been waiting around she added, “Though, you two also know what that feels like first hand don’t you?” Jon’s heart skipped a beat under the hole above it to remind him. A bit of a chuckle left her at the rigid response given. “Brother was Lord Commander for a long time, I still know men there who keep me in the know. Should I even bother asking how either of you survived or is that why our jumpy Queen there seems so keen on not looking at you?” 

Jon swallowed harshly, looking down as his palms braced gently on the stone wall in front of them brows narrowed. “I don’t know how she did it, or if she’s even sure it was her. But I’ve seen her scar and I know there’s no way she didn’t bleed out in minutes.” His voice was rough, and his chest felt heavy at the delirious dreams as he was unconscious seeing it for the first time. “Or why I’m walking around after getting a knife shoved in my heart, but we’re both here and we know as long as the Boltons are allowed to control the North we can’t protect anyone when they come.”

If there was only one thing that could truly haunt Jon in such a dread filled way it was that day. The sight of just how many free folk stood up beside the Others with glowing blue eyes. Staring one of them down feeling as cold and hopeless as ever, knowing that he could cut down as many as them as he could but with the numbers they awoke? If the North stayed this torn apart, Jon wasn’t going to be able to protect anyone. 

All that was between them was the splashing of water against the rocks before she spoke up, quiet in tone but with a deeper conviction. “We all followed your brother into war before he he fought his first battle, chose him as our King after the Lannisters murdered your father. Because we believed in him. You lead these men and reclaim the North? They’ll follow you no matter what comes for us beyond that Wall.”

This was why you warned him, it was inevitable. “I’m not here to ask anyone as a King-”

Confidence seeped into her voice. Looking at him with a knowing glint that reminded Jon all too much of the Old Bear. “The King didn’t name you his heir against our will. The two of them came to us with no arguments. You’re Ned Stark’s son and you were his brother and that was all he needed be sure he wanted it to be you. They both did. They both knew you deserved what he had and if none of us thought the same it wouldn’t have been such a damn quick meeting to sign off on it.” 

His heart screamed heavy at him, jealous of Robb for so much, for so long that the mere idea that in the end he wanted Jon to succeed him simply because they were brothers put a stop in his throat. Not arguing of politics or duty, but that he wasn’t just forgotten at the wall from his brother. He had missed Jon as much as Jon missed Robb, and in his death only could find one final thing to give to his brother hoping to bring him back home. 

It was a weak argument, and she sniffed it out right as he said it. “You still have her, she’s still your Queen to follow.” 

Maege smiled at that. “Aye, but she doesn’t want to be our leader. Knows as well as I do that no matter what people try to say, she isn’t her father. Holding that weight up by herself is too much for her, and I could take a guess what sorts of things the Boltons did to her, I think leading us all on her own would crush her. She and your brother worked so well because they were a team. She trusted him much as he did her to the point it’s easy to forget she’s not even a Northern sometimes.” 

But what kind of King could Jon ever be compared to Robb? He couldn’t imagine any kind of admiration as he knew Robb had earned from these people, he was ready to lead them into a war of survival but somehow taking up Robb’s mantle as King was the thing that felt daunting. 

But it’s what Robb wanted, and he knew it was what you wanted. You just refused to push him into something not knowing if he wanted it. You never pushed him into anything he may not want.

“You didn’t name Robb a King until he started winning battles. Least I can do is wait and see if I win my own this side of the Wall before I start thinking I deserve it.” Maege laughed, something under her breath muttering about you all being stubborn and he had an inkling he just may have started to sound like Robb himself. 

There was quiet for a breathe, before she turned tune. “Alright, enough of that. Let me see it.” 

Jon looked over to her with a confused expression before she nudged him on the arm, gesturing to his side. “The sword. Been some twenty years since I laid eyes on Longclaw, let me see the wolf.” Pulling it out from it’s sheath, Maege grabbed the hilt from him with a bright look. 

The smile was wide as she turned the wolf head around to take it all in. “He made it after your own direwolf, he said. What’s his name?”

Jon nodded, a small grin on his own face looking over the hilt himself. “Ghost. When we found the direwolves, he was far away from the others, so quiet he never even made a sound. I have no idea how I even heard he was there.” His own memory fading back to when he first got Longclaw. Showing Ghost the hilt remade, and telling him with a grin how it was him. Even apart now only by a few miles of sea and land he found himself missing him.

Maege looking over the red jems as eyes with a fondness. “Gods, it is good to see this thing finally getting some use after all this time.” Starting to hand it back to Jon, it seemed he made a mistake with what he said next. 

“It’s an honour, being given the chance to use your families sword.” The look she gave him now really reminded Jon of the way the Old Bear would look at him sometimes. Like the way he’d look him down as if to say to get your shit together. 

She all but bashed it into his chest for him to grab. “Seven hells. Do you really think that man went to all the trouble of remaking the entire bear hilt, re carving it, finding jems for those eyes only beacuse he assumed you were borrowing it?” Rolling her eyes, there was a fondness in her eyes as she looked at him. “That sword spent over twenty years sitting up at the wall. Just mocking my brother beacuse it was just a reminder of how badly his son had disgraced this family.” 

Shaking her head, she looked out to the water. A deep memory painting over her. “We all were sure it would stay up there until he died, and then it would just sit here in the Keep like some ancient artifact. But instead, he saw something enough in you not just to let you use it, but to give it to you.” Nodding to the hilt visible where it sat on his person. “He didn’t carve that wolf out so it could come back to us and just get re carved again. It was our families sword. Now, it’s yours. And whatever family you may decide you ever want. But don’t be fooled, Jeor gave you that beacuse he believed in you, and because you deserved it. You Starks seem to be pretty bad at accepting you’re allowed to deserve good things.” 

If the emotional punch to the gut was noticeable in Jon’s hesitant pause, she didn’t point it out. But she did something that Jon had only ever been used to from you. So casually grouping him in with House Stark without a second thought because you never really understood the point of seeing him as anything but one of them. And that was a habit Jon knew for certain, Maege Mormont could have only picked up from hearing you, even after all that time, still group him in with everyone else no matter what the world tried to say. 

You never shied away from the fact that he was a Snow, but you never once kept his identity in your mind separate from the Starks. Stannis Baratheon had offered him Lord of Winterfell to be an ally, and make him a Stark in name. Something for years he always wanted. 

And yet as you had stood there, telling him that the North, you, and that Robb had so easily decided they wanted him to be King in the North if anything happened to him. And that not once in that offer did you ever push him to take it, or that you wanted him to be anything but who he is. The fact that becoming a Stark wasn’t part of Robb wanting Jon to be King, he thought to himself, meant more then being made a Stark by someone else. 

Because Stark or not, to Robb, Jon Snow was his brother no matter what. And being King after him didn’t require a formal deceleration of becoming one of the family. It was strange for Jon at this point in his life to realize that the brother Jon always thought was better and got a better deal in life, truly loved him with no hangups or clauses attached to it. 

It was a Southern King that said only Jon Stark could be Lord of Winterfell. But it was his own brother who wanted Jon Snow to be King in the North after him. 

And for some reason, all Jon could think to do in that small moment by himself, was to smile. It was always odd in his heart how much you had always seen Jon for exactly who you knew he could be, but it was a whole other thing to start realizing that the North he grew up in, just might be coming to that same conclusion as well. 

But as he stood there, the storm clouds still debating amongst their own if it should bring rain over the setting sun, he thought of almost nothing but Robb. He wasn’t there to protect him when it mattered most, but Jon knew he needed to do more to protect what of Robb’s was left. 

Wherever his brother was now, Jon hoped that Robb trusted him with his wife. Because in the year since losing him, Jon knew you were left in a confused insurmountable amount of grief and pain that was only soaked in more blood and new torture. Leaving you in a darkness all alone, and someone needed to force you out of that pit before it took you away again forever.  

You trust me with your kingdom, his silence spoke. Eyes slipping closed as he stood in the quiet, hoping Robb could hear his prayers. Now please, trust me with her heart. She fought in a war beside you, but this time, someone needs to be the one to fight for her, someone needed to stand in front of her, and tell her it’s okay to let me protect her. 

You kept away from Jon because you were terrified of forcing things or feelings onto him that your tormented mind worried would no longer exist. But this pain between you was all out in the open now. You were honest and so was he. You needed someone to protect you instead of forcing you face these demons all on your own.

Jon hoped the crashing of water against the rocks, and the cold wind swirling around as it flew through his thick curls, was Robb answering his prayers with his blessing. Because Jon was going to do it anyways. 

Walking to where you were to stay for the night, you felt mentally drained. The Mormonts were far too lively of a bunch to handle in your current state, and too many questions, looks, and stories being thrown around. Already before even reaching the door, you begun unlacing everything with the intent to throw it all on the ground like a petulant child. 

But as you slipped into the door, you could see Jon leaning against the wall of the cozy room by the window. Your mind noticing the long grey shirt you normally never saw under the black and leather atop it, with some of his other things gently draped along the desk. Pausing without closing the door, you narrowed your eyes “I assume I’m in the wrong room.” 

“You’re not.” 

His voice was deep, but steady as his grey eyes were bright looking to you. Slowly you shut the door behind you, a confused furrow in your brows as you looked at him. Jon watched you with something so much softer then anything the past number of days, a look he was unafraid of letting you see in full opposed to the heavily guarded state you were still in. 

Taking only a few steps in at a time, you slowly placed your own sword down beside his against the wall before finding yourself not knowing what to do. “Am I allowed to ask why in a place this big I can’t be trusted with my own room?” 

Jon’s chuckle was deep, and a small smile full of a fondness as he met you more in the middle. Even as he was dressed down, and you still dressed properly you felt small in comparison. “Maybe you just can’t be trusted to get a decent sleep all on your own.” 

A lightness in your chest burst out before you could even contemplate the playfulness in your eyes as you said it. “Funny thing to say, coming from a man who used to barley manage getting more then five hours half his life.” 

He watched you for a second, stripping you down of those barriers without a word before gesturing for you to put your back to face him. Not considering that you just followed that silent command without any question until his hands gently started to undo the rest of your outer layers. Trying to look back at him confused, “I can do this part just fine, you know.” 

The hum in your ear sent a small shiver down your spine as he rasped. “So why are you letting me?” You could see the edges of his curls in the side of your vision but you had no answer for that other then to stand in the quiet and let him. 

When you were just a tinge lighter, Jon stepped closer, so lightly running his hands down your arms you almost felt lightheaded at the sensation. Somehow so warm against the cold of the night air, your body relaxed enough to find the courage. “Jon, about the other night-”

You almost gasped, feeling his chest press closer to your back, his voice rasping but soft, hands soothingly still running up and down. “Don’t apologize. You asked me a question, and I yelled at you for something you couldn’t possibly have known. You didn’t deserve that, so let me be the sorry one.” A weight in your chest sunk down, a sting behind your eyes as you nodded. “Good. Because I want you to listen to what I’m about to say.” 

He was braver then you, but if you weren’t such a coward, you’d be temped to reach one of your hands to to grasp his. “Okay.” Only a breathless whisper came out. 

Jon’s voice was as full of something heavy as you could feel in his heart. “Robb doesn’t want you to feel this alone. You loved each other, and you always will but he doesn’t want you to hate your life after him.” His hands stopped moving, but one of his thumbs continued to run across the fabric over your arm. “And you are not ruining my life by being here. I never thought I’d get the chance to even see you again, but now we’re both here. And maybe the gods wanted it that way, maybe it just is the way it happened to work out by chance but I can’t just stand back and watch you try to push me away because of what’s broken up here.” 

One hand moved to gently tap at the side of your head, as you tried to pull away at the sensation. Only as you reached back to instinctively swat at his hand, Jon caught it in his, bringing it down to wrap your arm across your stomach still holding onto it, and pull you closer to him. “What I said, about you being with Ygritte I never would have....had I known I wouldn’t have never suggested it.” 

Jon nodded against the back of your head, “Well now we both know. That’s what you were doing earlier right? Laying our cards out on the table for them to see, make sure they understand exactly what they would be getting into?” You nodded, your heart speeding up a bit. “I thought I lost you once, but this time I’m never going to stop fighting for you. You deserve to have someone who loves you, but if you don’t want it, if you don’t want me like this,” The hand on your arm sliding up gently to trace over the sensitive skin of your neck as you shook out an exhale. “I’ll never push you for anything, but we cannot hide from each other anymore. You need to tell me if you don’t want this, but not beacuse you think you don’t deserve it or because you wrongly think I don’t want you.” 

You felt ready to cry if you were being honest, he made this too easy. To slip into a need to be close to him and not want anything else. “I will always love Robb,” Jon nodded as your eyes fluttered shut but when your heart didn’t steady you had to say it anyways. “But that never stopped with you, either.” 

His hands on you tightened the slightest, as you let out a small sigh when his lips so gently pressed to your neck. Jon’s tone husky as he spoke into another gentle kiss, “Will you let me do something for you? Is it alright if I make you feel good?” 

Heart about to explode, your mind so lightheaded you could pass out. Not sure if you could handle the roughness like that one night, not sure if it was a wolf at all you could take but you nodded. You trusted Jon. 

He didn’t push you further, he wanted to be gentle it seemed. Running his lips so gently over your neck without ever pressing any firmer, and his hands didn’t grow rough in their touch as Jon gently pulled back enough to pull your shirt up and off your chest. 

Dropping it where it lay, you shivered from the cold as he reached both hands down past your breasts to slowly run along the edge of your pants before pushing you to the bed, “Sit down for me. Let me take care of you.” 

As you turned to sit, you could see the grey in Jon’s eyes was dark enough to look almost black as he carefully pulled the material off your body. Kneeling down before you as you were perched on the edge of the bed, he ran those same eyes all over your body with an intensity as you sat bare before him, still totally dressed. 

Gently, your hands reached out. One running along the edges of his curls before dancing across the scratchiness of his facial hair, the other finding his shoulder as you sat up straighter. Your breaths growing in heaviness as you both watched the other carefully. Jon finally returning the gesture, running both of his hands along your cheeks before leaning up. 

Your lungs stopped in the swiftness of the movement, your eyes fluttered shut only he didn’t close the gap. Only traced the length of your nose with his, keeping you so close you could feel his breathe until he could sense the nerves simmer back down inside you. Both thumbs running over your cheeks as he exhaled shakily. “Doesn’t seem real sometimes. Being allowed to have you this way. Spent all my life knowing I’d have to give you up and it never got any easier.” 

Your hand ran through his hair more like a comb, nails raking smoothly along them but never tugging at each more wild tangle. Keeping his forehead pressed to you. “Do you remember what we talked about, that last night in front of the Weirwood?” Your brows narrowed trying to recall it, as you unintentionally drew his attention away as your nails scratched his scalp more. Jon pressed into you further, a distracted but satisfied hum deep in his chest almost like that of the wolf usually found at his side finding his voice again. “Talking about how we’d meet in a different life?” 

Slowly, Jon started to move his hands down. Keeping just as close knelt before you, but slowly letting his hands run down your neck and over your shoulders as his voice was a gentle rasp. “We were way off, weren’t we? Castle Black is a far cry from Highgarden.” Tracing his fingers over the sides of your breasts you tensed at the spark of touch, “It’s also far too cold to be summer. But maybe this as good of a new one as we will get.” With a touch as light as a feather he ran his thumbs over both your nipples, almost jumping at the feeling. 

Your eyes opened to drift down to his shirt, the edges just far enough that you couldn’t see the mark over his heart even though Jon could see the one on your stomach perfectly. Your eyes slipped back shut however, as his rough hands more fully grasped at your breasts, and the spark underneath swam more throughout your body and into your blood. 

Sighing out high pitched, one of your hands slipped from him to grasp at the sheets below while the other wrapped more around the back of his neck into his curls. The movement naturally pulling your chest better up to his own level so one hand of his reached to hold steady at your hip before moving back to the task at hand. Opting to press his lips lightly to your collarbones. 

Moving down slowly until the hand on one breast twisted so he could pull your nipple between his fingers as his mouth gently nibbled at the other. Your gasp far louder then the quiet of the room but it only spurred him on to bite a little harder, the other hand twisting a little firmer. 

His last touch was so desperate, so raw and rough, that you felt dizzy in his arms this time around from how almost teasing it felt in comparison. Groping a little greedier as his lips found the same path until you let out a needy hiss at a harsher bite. Pulling back though, you gripped his hair a little tighter at the loss but Jon only gently shushed you. “Lay down for me,” Trying to move to the main part of the bed he pulled you back by your hips, climbing up only enough to push you to lay down where you sat. Legs dangling off the side of the bed. “No, no, stay just like this, right here.” 

Kissing your neck gently you couldn’t tell if he was trying to be soft with you or if this was just a true cruel tease to draw out on your body. “Jon,” Holding back a whine as he let his mouth trail back down to your breasts this time with more soothing presses of his lips and tongue to soothe the stinging bites he left. “Can I-”

“No.” Your eyes shot open in surprise, but he only moved finally down between your breasts to kiss along your sternum. His facial hair scratching along your skin, the rawness mixing with his gentle touch making you want to whine. Barley letting his lips leave your skin long enough to speak. “I don’t want you to do anything,” You could have cried a how lightly he ran his lips along the scar before pressing a kiss to the very top of your mound. “I just want to taste you.” 

You swallowed heavily, his hands moving to your thighs as you felt a strange beating in your heart like nerves. “I don’t..why would you-” 

Trying to soothe your nerves he rasped, “We’ve done this part before, darling.” You could remember the feeling, but it was so sudden, so animalistic you could barley comprehend it at the time in between the shock of him even standing before you. “Am I the only one to ever do this with you?” When you nodded, he kissed the same spot before kneeling on the ground where you could feel his breath between your legs. 

Jon kept it to himself, but he felt proud of himself for still being able to find ways of being your first after all these years apart. 

Slowly moving your legs to rest over his shoulders, Jon grasped at your hips to keep you steady before kissing a path up your inner thighs. One side, then the other as you let a needy whine out. Jon never once wavered, keeping his mouth always attached to something between your legs until a small kiss was left to your clit. The second you cried out at the feeling, the desire spilled over for him. 

Jon sucking your clit with his own need this time, before moving to run his tongue flat down along your folds. Humming in his throat as he licked right back up as he held your arching hips in place. Eager brushes gently at your clit in between nibbling grasps between his teeth until you were shaking in around him and you were soaked from it. Those same gentle brushes of his tongue moved back down, and finally letting him move his mouth to your cunt as he wanted. 

This time, it was a bit more as you recalled. His facial hair burning between your legs as he kissed and licked inside of you. Only instead of a starving, vicious wolf, he was licking and drinking everything you granted his mouth as if between your legs was treasured oasis crafted only for him. 

Your head fell back into the sheets as you moaned, small whines along with it of his name as your hands grasped the sheets beside you. Between your own breathlessness, all that was heard in the room was the soaking sounds of Jon’s tongue inside of you. 

Never rushing it, never even trying to push you to an orgasm. Only drinking between you with a slow, steady pace that had you trying to not let tears fall out from how good it felt. Letting a hand dance up to gently run though his hair, he held a bit tighter and made what felt like a vibrating growl into your cunt at the sensation you tested the waters and did it again, to the same reaction. 

Moving your hips to pull more into his mouth you were almost lifted slightly above the sheets as you cried out, the core inside of you burned so hot and twisted so tight but he just kept such a slow pace, such a leisurely taste that it never reached it’s peak just when you thought it may.  

Your breathing almost a faint hyperventilating as you almost couldn’t get any air he pulled it all right out with each brush of his tongue that ran along such sensitive walls. His nose nuzzling against your clit that had you cry much louder, back arching more but he just ran his tongue inside of you greedier then before. 

This was for you, but it also was for him truly. 

You weren’t really sure how long he kept you there, but it was a while. Quite a while, like he couldn’t stop himself from leaving between your legs. Each time you were poised at an orgasm he would pull back, slow down until you calmed down in his touch and once more his mouth would return to licking you back to that peak and take it away again. You already had lost count how many times he had done it.

It was long enough that even in the cold air, you felt a sweat forming over your body as you knew there too were tears at the side of your eyes spilling over. “Jon, please, gods please you’re so good..” 

You weren’t even sure what you were saying but it made him shudder against you. Finally, in what felt like the slowest growth of your orgasm yet, this time as Jon’s mouth and tongue coaxed you to that edge he let you fall off it. Your core snapping with a pleasure of only his name and his arms keeping you pressed firmly against his mouth. 

You writhed against him as the sparks jolted your entire body and he just kept between you, taking everything you gave him with greed until you were jumping at the stimulation. Finally, Jon pulled away, kissing your clit, then your mound and once more your scar before leaning up over you. 

Hovering just above, his eyes were blown wide open and pitch black, his own lips swollen and soaked as just looked down to you. “Jon..please..kiss me?”

Eyes closing, he shuddered before shaking his head no. Swiftly moving up the bed, Jon pulled you into his arms, laying more on his side and keeping you cuddled into his chest while you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. His voice was raspy and deep, northern accent strong and thick as it slurred together into your own neck. “If I kiss you now, I’m going to lose it.” 

Running your hands through his hair, your brows narrowed. “It’s okay-”

“It’s not okay.” Sighing out as he clearly was trying to keep something contained as you only cuddled in his arms, him trying not to push you right back down and let his cock fill up your soaked cunt that very second. “Rest for me, darling. Just for tonight.” If he was talking to you or himself, it was difficult to tell as he mumbled into your hair, “I’ll always take care of you.” 

It was easy to fall asleep in his arms. Jon was warm, and never once let you out of his grasp. Keeping you in a safe bubble only encompassed by him. 

Jon wasn’t lying, he knew if he kissed you while you were bare in his arms, in a bed after already having spent well over two hours tasting you? He would have shoved you down onto the bed, spread your legs wide and fucked you deep, as many times as it took until he had absolutely nothing left to spill inside of you, but he wanted to take his time. He already took you like an animal, now he wanted to ease you back into it with a tenderness, with love. 

Despite trying, he, himself didn’t sleep very much that night. It was hard to sleep when he was too busy enjoying how soft and pliable you were in his arms. In your sleep, your hand drifted up to rest along his heart and he pressed a hand there to hold you against him gently. Kissing your hair once more before giving himself a chance to at least try to get some sleep. One thing had not changed since your early years together at least. 

It still took an immense amount of will power for Jon to treat you with a gentle innocence when you made the wolf in his blood run hot and possessive at all times. 

[thatonegirlwhowrites]

My request contains volume two spoilers!!

Steve x mayfield reader where she wants to be vecnas bait instead of max and reader get badly hurt. Maybe she only breaks two bones and is blind in one eye. Lots of angst but a fluffy ending.

Thanks!

Pinky Promises || Steve Harrington

VOLUME TWO SPOILERS

Summary: Reader takes Max’s place to be Vecnas bait, but it doesn’t end well when promises start to break and worlds start to crumble.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Mayfield!Reader, Max Mayfield x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for volume two, violence, angst, broken bones, blindness, blood, fluff, grammatical errors (this is not proof read at the moment)

Notes: not gonna lie, this fic had me getting all emotional also I’d just like to add that Eddie is mentioned in this and is alive because I’m just gonna forget what happened to him in vol 2 :)

2.5k words

Masterlist

———————————————————————————

“I need you to pinky promise that you are going to come back to me.” Steve's voice was low as you prepared to step out of the RV with your sister, Lucas, and Erica.

Your eyes immediately softened as you connected your pinky to his, “I pinky promise that I will come back to you, Steve.” You meant every word.

Steve relaxed a tiny bit, “I love you, Mayfield.”

“I love you too Harrington, be safe.” You let your pinky slip from his as you stepped outside of the RV where the three other kids had been waiting for you.

You immediately knew the look on your sister's face, “I should be the one doing this, not you. Vecna hasn't even cursed you y/n, you have no idea what you are walking into!”

You knew in Max’s mind it probably didn't make much sense, but you would do anything in the world to keep her safe. “Max, I'm the big sister. My job is to protect you and that's exactly what I'm going to do. Everything is going to be okay. I’ve got this I promise.”

Another promise.

You wanted more than anything to keep those promises, but things weren’t looking good for you.

Things had steadily gone downhill as soon as you were put into vecna's trance. On the outside, the kids were trying to fight off Jason Carver and you were currently watching El struggle to keep up with vecna.

You weren't exactly sure how Eleven had managed to find you or how she got into your mind, but she had. At first, she had the upper hand but it was clear now as you were held up against a disjointed piece of the creel house in vecna's mind that this was a losing game for you.

You could barely see anything but a red glow all around you, your vision and mind were hazy from getting thrown around in your memory earlier.

“It's time Y/n.” the sinister voice you had learned to become familiar with over the last hour rang closely to your ears. Your vision focused enough to see Vecna standing in front of you, El still far away from you and held down by the vines.

Tears ran down both your cheeks. You knew this was it, and all you could think about is the people you would be leaving behind. The promises that would be shattered in the next few moments.

“You were brave Y/n, and now I will make the suffering stop.” With that, his hands came up to your face.

Immediately an awful sensation ran through your body. All of your muscles felt like they had been tightened, and your mind began to fog. People's faces flashed in and out of your head, and they soon began to jumble together. The pressure continued to worsen as vecna sank his nails into your skull. You could feel yourself dying…slipping away from consciousness.

You were waiting for the pain to stop, for vecna to take everything away from you.

The relief never came, instead, a deafening scream sounded in your ears before everything was completely black. You felt like you were drowning, unable to navigate through what was happening.

You could still faintly feel vecna's mind connected to yours, but that was ripped away too as you were brought back to reality.

“Oh god! Y/n! Y/n please!” Max was screaming. You could hear her, but there was something wrong with your eyes.

“I-I can’t-.” Your breathing quickened as the pain set in.

You blinked as hard as you could, your vision was blurred but you could make out some of Max’s features. “Ev-Everything hurts.” You sobbed.

You could feel your sister's arms shaking underneath you, trying to pull you up…trying to keep you alive.

“Erica! Call 911, We need help!” You could hear Lucas yelling now too, but you were far too weak to look around for him.

“Y/n, please stay awake. Please, help is gonna come okay? Just hang on.” Despite the unbearable pain raking through your body, somehow the thought of leaving your little sister behind without anyone hurt even more.

“I’m n-not ready to go.” You could feel every ounce of strength you had left starting to drain from your body, leaving your eyes dropping with the weight, “Lucas help!” Max was sobbing uncontrollably as she took your face in her hands trying to keep you awake.

“You gotta stay awake.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to make you push open your eyes once again. The vision in one of your eyes was a bit clearer now and you could see the distress on her face.

“I’m trying Max. I don’t want to leave you.” Salty tears mixed with the blood that stained your cheeks, “I’m just so tired.” you mustered what strength you had and pulled your hand to cover hers that rested on your face. You knew your other hand was broken and by the feeling in your legs, you also knew at least one of them was as well.

It felt like ages that you laid there like that, trying to hang on to consciousness as it became increasingly more difficult. “What's taking Erica so long! The ambulance should be here by now!”

Lucas had not moved to sit next to Max trying to tell you both it wouldn't be long, but any hopes of getting medical help anytime soon went out the window when the youngest Sinclair ran into the room, “No one will help! I've tried every house and no one will answer. I don't know what to do!” Erica was hysterical and even though she kept a brave face most of the time, it wasn't easy seeing someone she cared for dying.

“I-It's okay.” You shakily spoke, suddenly hyper-aware of what was coming soon.

“No! No! You listen to me, you are not dying Y/n! Please just stay awake!” She held you tighter against her, hoping that would somehow do something.

You could feel your mind slipping away, but once again you opened your eyes when you heard a commotion. You could see mainly Robin and Nancy but a few seconds later Steve, Eddie, and Dustin all came into view.

Your heart ached at the sight of Steve…you don't want him to remember you like this.

“Steve, w-we have to get her help. She- She-.” Max couldn't dare finish her sentence, she couldn't admit that her sister was dying in her arms.

Steve dropped to his knees, tears already falling as he took the weight of your body from Max’s shaking form.

“Y/n.” His voice cracked, letting a sob escape his lips as he could feel how cold your skin was.

“I’m sorry for breaking our pinky promise.” Your voice was getting weaker and the pain started to numb as the seconds passed.

“No baby you didn't break it. You are gonna get out of this.” You could tell he didn't really believe what he was saying, “I gotta get you up baby. We are gonna take you to the hospital. You just gotta hang on for 15 more minutes. That's all.” As the words left his mouth he scooped you up as gently as possible, but pain shot through your head and two of your limbs.

In a way the pain was good, it was better than numb.

“I can’t Steve. I can’t.” You cried as he carried you down the steps and outside into the camper where Eddie began to drive quickly to the hospital.

Max was holding the knot with your good hand while Steve cradled your body, “Look sweetheart, the hard parts over.” Steve sniffled.

The numb feeling began to wash back over your body and you lost the feeling of Max’s hand on yours and eventually you couldn’t feel Steve's hold either.

It was your time, “M-Max honey. I love you so much okay? I-I need you to know that this wasn't your fault.” You wished you could hug her or even grip her hand for reassurance, but all of your feelings were gone. “Max please, tell me you know this isn't your fault.” you needed to hear it. You needed to know she would be okay without you.

“I-I know it's not my fault Y/n,” She dropped her head into your neck and hugged you, “I love you, please don't leave me.” You didn't want to leave her, but you knew it wasn't your choice.

You looked up to catch Steve's eyes, “I love you, Harrington.”

“Y/n we are not doing this! W-We were supposed to- to buy that camper. Just like this one, remember? Our- our six little nuggets. Y/n please we still have so much future ahead of us.” He sobbed as he could see life begin to drain faster from your face.

“Promise to take care of Max, please.” It was the last thing you let slip out before the remaining breath fell from your lungs and your vision and mind went black.

“Y/n?” Steve looked into your eyes, this time they were void of life.

Max let out a heart-wrenching scream, begging for you to wake back up.

Steve suddenly couldn't breathe, “No, no, no.” He cried.

They had arrived at the hospital only a few moments later…a few moments too late.

5 weeks later.

Steve had taken care of Max the last few weeks, just how you asked. Day in and day out he was there.

Max and Steve both had spent countless nights in your hospital room, hoping you would wake up. Though hope began to diminish with every passing day. The worst thing was the fact that no one knew why you weren't waking up. All but one broken leg had healed, and your body should have been plenty well-rested.

For weeks you were stuck in darkness. You assumed you were dead, or maybe in some kind of limbo but when you kept hearing familiar voices you knew something was off. You had accepted that this was just going to be your forever, that was until you heard some kind of music playing. It was a kate bush song, one you had heard Max play a thousand times. So you followed the noise until you couldn't follow it anymore.

Your eyes slowly opened, letting in the lights

“Holy shit.” You recognized the voice of your sister and could now see her face.

Something was off though, your vision.

“What? I, what?” You were confused.

At the sound of your voice, Max jumped up from the edge of your bed and hollered very loudly for a doctor and for Steve?

“Y/n it's okay! You're okay!” You could see the grin on her face, giving you some kind of relaxation.

Everything was fuzzy, but the memories began to flood your thoughts.

You died. You were sure of it.

You hadn't had time to ask any questions before a doctor and several nurses poured into your hospital room. They poked and prodded for what felt like hours.

All you wanted was to talk to your sister, and you wanted to see Steve. You hadn't even been able to see him yet.

The doctors informed you that you had been in a coma for 5 weeks, they had told you that you were hurt during the earthquake, yet you knew that was not even close to what happened. The mention of an earthquake also was confusing you.

Thankfully the doctors had left your room, leaving you in peace with your sister and now your boyfriend as well.

Steve was quick to run up to your bed, he hadn't gotten to see your face yet. He wanted to look into your eyes. Your very much alive eyes. “I thought you were gone. I-I thought I lost you.” tears streamed down his cheeks, but his lips were graced with a smile.

“I hate breaking pinky promises.” You wince slightly as you let out a small laugh.

You pull Steve onto the bed with you and motion Max to come to the other side.

You would worry about all of the details later, but right now you wanted to worry about your sister and boyfriend.

“Steve took care of me like you asked.” Max sniffled, pulling her head to rest on your shoulder.

You couldn't help but let a smile find its way onto your face, “He better have.”

“Please never leave me alone with her again.” Steve teased, causing Max to playfully hit him in the head.

Your thoughts circled back to why your vision looked so off, it was almost as if you had lost a chunk of your peripheral vision, “What's w-wrong with my eyes.”

You were scared to know the answer, and neither Steve nor Max knew how to tell you so instead Max opted for handing you a mirror.

Shock ran through your veins at the sight of your discolored eye. Your left eye had been perfectly normal in color, yet your other eye was a hazy gray. You closed only your left eye leaving you with absolutely nothing to see.

“I'm blind?”

“Only halfway. Your vision is still perfect in your good eye. The doctor said we just might need to get you some glasses so the good eye doesn't have to strain so much.” Max explained as you handed the mirror back to her.

Steve could already see where your mind was going, “Sweetheart, you are as beautiful as always.”

You sighed, “I-Its gray and ugly.”

“It's a part of you, and it's just as beautiful as it was before. Also, for what it's worth, I think it's pretty badass.” You realized he was onto something with the badass part, “Yeah I guess it is pretty badass.”

“Hell yeah, it is,” Max added in.

A few minutes later Max had run to the cafeteria to snag as many puddings as she could.

“I was really scared.” Steve scooted as close to you as he could on the bed.

“Me too.”

“I love you.” Steve let a tear slip from his eye, “I didn't even get to say it back that night. Y-You told me you loved me and I didn't say it back. Y/n I always say it back, b-but I was just-” He stopped himself before he went fully into a panic attack, trying to smooth his breath.

You hadn't realized just how much of a toll this whole event had taken on him and Max both, “Steve you didn't have to say it back. I already knew.”

You shakily brought your hand up to cup his cheek, “I'm here now, and you can tell me you love me every day for the rest of my very long life.”

Max quietly walked back into the room with several different pudding flavors, “Are we crying again? I don’t want to cry anymore.” She huffed while trudging over to you.

“We are not crying anymore. Consider this a no-cry zone as of now.” You softly ran your fingers under Steve's eyes as he set up.

Before you could say much more, you could hear many footsteps outside, “Oh yeah I should warn you...everyone is about to-” Max was quickly cut off when several people fell into your room.

“Y/N!” It was a simultaneous yell between Nancy, Robin, Eddie, Dustin, Will, Jonathan, Mike, and Eleven.

“Oh my god.” You snorted in laughter.

“Badass eye.” Dustin pointed while going in for the first hug.

“I know right.”

———————————————————————————

[lexluvswriting]

L'autunno - Eris x balletdancer!reader

☆ Ch: 2

-> (CW): x fem!reader, slow-burn, rivals to lovers, tinkle of angst, fluff, non-specified identity, no specific time in storyline except it is a few months after Amarantha. Dual p.o.v!!

-> (TW): Eris Vanserra, slightly softer today, Lucien cameo!! Beron Vanserra is still a c-

W/C: 2.8k (what a coincidence)

╰┈➤ Lex's note: I hope this chapter was a bit more reader and Eris focused!! i wanted to add some backstory to Eris (even tho there isnt muchhh to go off, it is minorly ooc because i am embellishing a lil, teehee !) yes!! I did do a dual p.o.v!! I just thought it would be kinda cute, pls lmk how we feel abt it!!

A gentle breeze swept back the Lady of the Autumn Court’s hair as she sat out on her balcony. The moon dangled in the sky, and a small ball of auburn hair shifted in the lap of the Lady- two golden eyes blinking through baby tears up at the female who watched the moon with an expression Lucien had seen before, but could never name. There was angry yelling in the distance, deep within the manor as glass shattered and feet stomped around.

“Why does he always do that, mamma?” A little voice called out. The Lady sighed in response, lips parting to bestow more motherly reassurance when another voice answered.

“Because he’s a horrible man, Lucien.” Eris, stone faced despite his youth, stalked towards his mother and younger brother as he entered the balcony clearing.

Eris Vanserra was many things. A big brother. A good dancer, a cheater at all the games, a little fox. And he certainly wasn’t an idiot.

“Did he write to you again? Is that why he’s angry?” Silence hung on the end of his question, sliding off the words like a droplet of dew as the Lady extended her other arm, and ushered Eris closer. Both boys held their mother, who looked up at the sky with weary eyes.

But they weren’t weary- they were tired, but not exhausted. Sad but not miserable. It was like she was holding onto-

“I hoped to negotiate with your father about letting Lucien see… him. But it didn’t… work out well.” Her voice was hushed, like the whisper of a willow that swayed by the lake near the manor.

There it was. Hope.

“Why bother? You know he’ll only hit you. Why do you let him? Why can’t he- why can’t-” Anger bubbled up in Eris the same way it did in his father, and that only made the boy more angry as he pulled away, kicking a loose rock over the edge of the balcony.

“Why can’t he help you? And take you away from this?”

“But where will you go, Eri?” Lucien’s sleepy voice cooed, the little one rubbing at his eyes with chubby fists. Eris glared at his younger brother- as if he was foolish for not understanding.

“I would stay back with father- to make sure he…” The words constricted in his throat. The Lady of Autumn hugged Eris again, tears welling up in both pairs of eyes.

“I know. I know. You are so brave, Eris. My sweet little fox, the boy who would string up the world for me.” Her words were always flowery and poetic- they always made the tips of his ears go bright red, but tonight he allowed them to find their mark as he hugged his mother tightly while her kisses littered the side of his head. Little Lucien, who squirmed when he realised he was missing out on the affections, stood up on wobbly feet as he grabbed his mother’s hand.

“Mamma, if I hang the moon on a sting, will you kiss me too?”

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

Your brows were furrowed in concentration as you planted your foot firmly on the ground, counting in before sucking in a breath as you went up on pointe, earning a grunt of approval from Gustav, who simply let the music play as you began to run through the steps of the solo. 

“Wrong- immediately. Your transition from the pas de deux should be seamless- as if he wasn’t even there. They are focusing on you- You are the one with the power- you are the one with eyes following. They will be watching your every movement.” 

Every word that left his mouth made you scowl harder, and your pirouettes became faster and faster, until you were a blur. A ‘thwack’ startled you, a stinging sensation against your thigh made you flinch and fall to the ground.

“Gus!”

“Wrong! All of it- wrong! What is wrong with you? Where is my jewel? Bring her back, instead of this monstrous thing. Money is on the line- my studio is on the line- prestige and fame for you is on. The. Line! Get it together. Again!” The orchestral backing seemed to rewind and restart, and your eyes glowered at the ballet master who simply inspected his nails, elbow leaning on his ‘discipline stick’, a thin, long piece of wood that ‘thwacked’ against the limbs of any sorry dancer who ‘lacked discipline’. You had been very familiar with it- an arch nemesis from youth, yet you let out a huff, which Gustav mocked, though you rolled your shoulders and resumed first position.

You danced- your arms swinging around as your legs carried you across the wooden floor. You saw glimpses of your reflection- and you weren’t at all displeased with what you saw. Strong, dedicated, pretty- Primrose would croon these at you prepared before a session, and they had found a mark in your heart as you paraded yourself around. You tried to push all the worries out of your mind for the moment, honouring the music that played by worshipping it with the graceful movements of your body, twirling and leaping- not like a dancer, but like a leaf on the wind. Like a stalk in the long grass. Like the pretty ember in a lantern.

Your heart raced in your chest, beating wildly despite the organised chaos of the accompaniment you danced to. All you had to do was dance- the rest would sort itself out, right? All you had to do was keep your head down, do your pretty dance, do it correctly and get the royal family of the Autumn court off your back. Then you could go back to being a normal dancer at a normal studio and pray that you weren’t swept up in the exodus that seemed to be occupying most of the Autumn Court. The shrill song of a violin pulled you out of the sea of thoughts just in time for you to complete a grand jeté before the coda started. As the steps got more complex- and dangerous, if you didn’t land them properly, you didn’t notice a bug eyed Gustav who had looked above to see a certain lordling glowering down at you- his russet irises blazing with an unreadable, but probably shrewd emotion as his eyes tracked your every movement while you danced.

You were having the time of your life- your blood always ran when you had to perform the more complicated sequences. Plié, pas de basque, pas de bourrée, glissade, a wondrous grand jeté- high enough for you to touch the ceiling if you really wanted to- land into another plié, and then, your favourite- the fouettes. You could get lost in these if you really wanted to, and perhaps you would, with the way you caught yourself smiling slightly in your reflection. Gustav hadn’t protested, or warned you not to go crazy, so you did the usual routine, body charging up to spin and spin and spin. A crescendo of the music made you stop spinning, and you saved yourself by doing a more ‘modern’ move as you tumbled across the floor, only to end up on your feet again, hands poised perfectly in the air in your finishing pose as the music slowly ceased. You laughed a little, amused at your ballet master’s silence before you noticed him staring at something, bug eyed and pale skinned. You realised he hadn’t looked at you at all, and your gaze followed, head tilting up until you noticed your voyeur, and froze momentarily.

What to do? Hiss? Swear? Burp really loudly and slouch? Throw something? A hiss from Gustav to ‘bow!’ made you slowly turn your head to look at him with blatant disgust, before your eyes slid back up to Eris, rolling them as your lip curled out and you let out a soft, delicate “Ugh.”

You heard something that sounded like a snarl and a squeak from Gus behind you, but you waved a hand, declaring airly, “I’m taking five!”

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

Eris’ face was the last thing you saw in your mind as you went to the studio’s small cafe to purchase a well-earned treat. It’s certainly handsome. Well- Grumpy, miserable-looking, arrogant, snobbish and so so so many other wonderful adjectives. But you had to give him credit… He was… pretty.

The croissant you purchased was steaming hot, so you tossed it in its brown paper bag between both hands, fingertips suitably warmed against the cool autumn weather. You walked along the hallway, your eyes focused on the large, golden gilded framed portraits of various dancers who had also traisped about the hallway you ambled through, croissant in hand as you appreciated each stroke of paint which captured their serious, serene expressions. You stopped in front of a painting to take a bite out of your warm treat- the clerk claimed it was filled with raspberry coulis, but you figured she was lying after the first bite, where you had bitten into nothing but fluffy, buttery goodness. The second bite was as uneventful as the first, but it was the third that made you jolt, as a hot, raspberry-ness flooded your mouth, your hand cupping under the treat a few seconds too late, before you heard a ‘splat!’, peeking down and swearing softly as raspberry hit the marbled floor.

“Oh… bloody… fuck.” You hissed, glaring at the dark pink splat, before stomping back to get tissues, kneeling down at your mess and sighing irritatedly- that would have been the perfect bite if the filling didn’t try to jump down your throat.

“Charming.” A voice replied, and you noticed the tips of brown, shiny leather shoes near your knees, making your eyes narrow. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Eris Vanserra peered down at you, his grating voice a drawl as you slowly craned your head to peer up at him with an unamused glare, to which his lips quirked to the side in a crooked smirk.

“I hope you won’t be this uncouth when you perform for my family.” You immediately stopped kneeling, lest to give him any more of an inflated ego than he already has, and glowered.

“I don’t really care what you nor your family think of me.”

“Charming, indeed.” He hummed, russet eyes filled with a smug gleam, the light seeming to dance in his irises the more you glowered and frowned at him. You both stared at each other, you more hostile in your gaze than he, before you turned away to distance yourself and ignore him, only for his grating voice to sound off again, your ears catching his reply a little too attentively for your liking.

“You’ll have to accompany me to the Equinox ball even after you dance, by the way. It is custom- and honourable for someone like… yourself.” His eyes slowly scanned your face, meeting your eyes before they found something else on you to hone in on.

Oh, brilliant. Here we go.

“Someone like myself?” You repeated, raising an eyebrow as irritation made itself known even more than before.

“Of course. Independent, apprehensive, different. I’m surprised you can even bear to be in those impossible costumes and tutus. It’s like putting a bonnet on a bear.” His smile- mocking, unserious, condescending, was all you could focus on- your ears twitching at his tone of voice.

‘Apprehensive? Different! I’ll show him apprehensive-’

“Hah! ‘Different’?” You kissed your teeth, nodding before standing in front of his face, raising your coulis filled croissant and taking an aggressive bite, letting a small, thick glob of raspberry splatter onto his shiny, pretty shoes. Eris let out a small grunt as he stepped back, glaring down at his shoes for a long time, before his gaze lifted up to you, only to see your back as you had stormed off promptly, croissant in hand.

“You have something on your face, by the way!” His voice called out, in what you could only figure was mockingly. A hand raised up to the corner of your mouth, and you swore under your breath, yet you doubled down.

“And you’ve got something on your shoes!”

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

Eris blinked at the dancer down below, his eyes wide with awe. From the first time he had seen her at the start of the week, she managed to become more and more brilliant over time- as if each day that he didn’t see her, she became more talented and beautiful. [Y/N] was your name. [Y/N] [L/N].

He had seen you when you debuted for one of your more high-achieving roles- had taken his mother privately for a viewing of one of the ballets that had played in the amphitheatre when just after Amarantha had been destroyed- a celebration of freedom. Your rendition of Swan Lake, and your variation of the white and black swan had brought the Lady of Autumn to tears- how could a small thing like you capture the understanding of being trapped, of isolation and grief so beautifully? For a long time he had wondered about you- even at balls, where he waltzed around with other nameless women that could never compare to your poise and discipline- your fluidity and grace. Did you like to waltz? Were you shy and reserved? Angelic and sweet? Or were you alluring and confident? Seductive and playful?

Neither, he had decided when you looked up at him with your evident disdain, and your uncaring sneer. You were a third, greater thing. And you were absolutely magnificent. He realised there and then that he had to speak with you, even if just for a brief moment- he needed to feel the brunt of your fire firsthand. So when he had spied you walking through the halls so prettily, each step poised and perfect even off-duty, it made him feel strange. He just had to be close to you.

“Charming.” He mused, though he had paused when he realised he had spoken out loud. He wanted to correct himself, but your gaze knocked the air out of him, and he panicked- opting for his signature smirk to disguise his awkwardness. 

‘Whatever is going on, snap out of it.’ He thought harshly, before blinking as he realised he had been staring- so he spoke again.

“I hope you won’t be this uncouth when you perform for my family.” His voice was smooth, cool and collected like it usually was, and he was amused by your glower. Were you this angry all the time? It was oddly endearing, in a strange, funny way. Cauldron, your gaze was unforgiving. He wondered how many stupid males had been on the end of it.

“I don’t really care what you nor your family think of me.” His ears twitched slightly at that tone, and something stirred within him, making him want to smile. Oh, you were really funny when you were upset.

“Charming, indeed.” He nodded, a smile growing on his face as he admired you, enjoying the banter you two seemed to share.

“You’ll have to accompany me to the Equinox ball even after you dance, by the way. It is custom- and honourable for someone like… yourself.” His eyes slowly scanned your face, and he hoped he didn’t sound too excited when he mentioned it. He’d get to waltz with you, and show off his skills, and hope that you’d be as impressed with him as he was with you. He was too excited indeed, though he was curious with the way your irritation grew.

“Someone like myself?” You repeated, and he wanted to laugh. You were so silly!

“Of course. Independent, apprehensive, different. I’m surprised you can even bear to be in those impossible costumes and tutus. It’s like putting a bonnet on a bear.” He joked, enjoying himself greatly as he caught your attention and held onto it as long as he did. You were quite apprehensive, yes. Very grouchy and unagreeable, but still certainly pretty. He was proud of his ‘bears in bonnets’ joke too- that usually worked wonders with anyone he mentioned it to.

So why were you still looking at him like that? And did you know about the smear of raspberry under your lower lip? He wanted to tell you, or wipe it off at least when you spoke again.

“Hah! ‘Different’?” You made a noise that he recognised as irritation, and Eris watched you shift your stance, as if you were aiming to lob the pastry you had been eating at him. Had he misspoke? He watched you move closer to him, his eyes on your mouth as you raised the croissant and bit into it messily, letting a small, thick glob of raspberry splatter onto his shoes.

How inconvenient.

Eris let out a small grunt as he stepped back, blinking dumbly at his shoes for a long time, before his gaze lifted up to you, only to see your back as you had stormed off promptly.

“You have something on your face, by the way!” His voice called out in a weak attempt to be helpful.

“And you’ve got something on your shoes!”

Hah! She was certainly... spirited. That was no way to treat a Vanserra. She wouldn't last a minute in front of his father. Eris chuckled as he glanced down at his shoes again, clicking his tongue.

He'd simply have to come back and see you again.

╰┈➤ Lex's note 2: AHHHH it's done!! almost 3k AGAIN lmfao. i hope the dual p.o.v was kinda cute!!! if not, lmk and i'll stick solely to reader !! tysm everyone for the love this is getting! ch 3: ETA 1 Week!! 🥹🫶🏼

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Serendipitous Meeting

Fandom: Bayonetta

Tags: Male!Cereza x reader

Note: I've finally done the unthinkable! I've turned my and @cerezzzita 's chaotic conversations into sort of a headcanon ficlet. This is for people with very specific wants and needs, so basically for me and maybe three other people.

Might add part two, we'll see.

You were just putting some flowers on your gradmothers grave for her anniversary when you heard a ruckus not far away. Understandably curious, you headed in direction of the strange noise.

When you came closer, a stray bullet almost hit your forehead, instead it landed in the stone pillar next to you. Quickly, you dove behind one the tombstones. There, behind the tombstone next to yours, you found pudgy stout man spitting profanities in italian.

Amidst the chaos, you saw as a roof of a mausoleum suddenly burst open, as if someone, or something fell on it. But you didn’t saw anything. Your puzzlement grew as you heard mettalic ringing of a blade sqinging right above you.

With a terrified yelp, you scrambled away on all fours. Even as you looked around in your hasty escape, you didn’t saw anything, but you felt it, this otherworldy presence.

„Look out!“ You heard the mens voice, but you had no chance to react. There, in the sliver between realities, you saw a horrifing monster. And you were too stunned to even be afraid.

Luckily for you, there was a guardian angel watching after you that day. Bullets wheezed past you as a man in black laid waste to the terrifying creatures. You were so confused and helpless that all you could do was cover your head with your arms and cover in the midst of battle.

Gunshots, inhuman screeches and dying gurgles were switches for deathly silence. When you finally braved yourself to unfurl yours arms from your eyes you saw him.

Precariously perched a tone of the tombstones, impressively long legs clad entirely in black, as your eyes travelled up and up, you saw a golden medallion with moon incrested on it, which rested on even more impressive chest, you almost darted your eyes away in embarassment. When you finally rested your vision on his face, the first thing you noticed was an elegant sleek glasses perched upon perfect thin nose. You weren’t used to seeing these types of glasses on men, they usually opted for something for angular, big, and masculine, but as your eyes glided over his beautiful countenance, you must admit they suited him well. You were too ensnared by the mans appearance that it took you some time to notice that his brows were cinched in annoyance.

„Ugh, Rodin has truly outdone himself this time. To think I had to cancel afternoon sermon for this handful of low-ranked vermin…“ the mysterious man stopped dusting himself off when he saw one of the creatures under next to him on the ground, trying to crawl away. He looked at it in disdain and without another thought raised on his legs high above his head, then slammed it right over creatures head. „…how tacky.“

The man’s deep, smooth voice curled around your ear like a whisp of perfumed smoke. You almost missed the wet crunch of the skull underneath his boot.

With a flick of his wrist, as if benevolently dismissing this whole affair, he turned to the italian, which looked even shorter standing next to him.

„Honestly, finding a real challenge in these parts would be…what’s that word again? When you find something good without looking for it?“

„Serendipity.“ You heard yourself say.

You saw the man’s shoulders tense, then slowly, he turned to you and you were once again helpless victim to that smokey grey gaze.

„You…you can see me?“ He took one step towards you, head tilting to the side like a cat, eyeing its next prey.

You haven’t got the chance to answer. A shadow appeared above you and you saw a stone boulder hurling towards you. You had your breath nocked out of you as much larger body knocked your over and thrown you to safety.

The last thing you remember before passing out was a feeling of two generous pectorals mushed against your face.

[kasagia]

Bring me a dream pt. 3

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/general Kirigan x fem! sun summoner! reader

Summary: Aleksander (unwillingly) takes you to the border with Fjerdans. Along the way, you spend more and more time together, but can the two of you forget your differences and be as close as you were in the past again?

Wairning(s): blood, fight, reader and Aleksander circle around each other like a dog around a hedgehog, violence, and so on, TEXT NOT CHECKED, I hope it's good

Word count: 6-8k idk 😅

Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @morrigan-crowmwell @louderfortheback @ludarklina-fan-spot @sayumiht @budugu @howibecameabadassbitch @flostvs1508 @intothesoul

~•♤♤♤•~ Part 1 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 2 ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

And all I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life...

Taylor Swift - Electric Touch

"Absolutely not." he says firmly as he flips over the stacks of papers on his war table.

"Absolutely yes!" you reply, placing your hand on the pile of papers he was flipping through. His attention is immediately turned to you and you smirk.

"Y/N you are not going with me." he talks to you like to a little kid. You absolutely do not like the commanding tone of his voice. You won't let him tell you what to do.

"I won't be with you, I will be behind you." you reply, teasing him. You bravely endure his stern gaze, not letting him intimidate you with those dark eyes.

"Y/N." he sighs irritably and rubs his eyes with his hand. "You're not going there."

"You won't change my mind." you say sweetly, and turn on your heel to leave the room. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Aleksander roll his eyes. His sigh only widens the smug smirk on your face.

"Y/N Y/L/N."

"That's not mine surname." you say over your shoulder as you approach the door.

Aleksander circles the war table with astonishing speed and blocks your way to the door. You raise an eyebrow at him.

"I've been having your name on my wrist for 500 years." he says, and the frown on his forehead only deepens as you continue to tease him. "I was looking at it. Night and day. For hundreds of years. I know your name, even if I didn't know that belong to you. It is the only thing that hasn't slipped my mind over the centuries." you shiver, analyzing his words for a moment. And your stupid and naive heart clings to that little note of tenderness hidden behind contempt and irritation.

You know that if you were just a regular Grisha, one of his soldiers, he would have scared you with his shadows or sent you to the fold a long time ago. Unfortunately for him, you were his soulmate and sun summoner. You were the safest and most privileged person in the whole, damn Ravka.

"Maybe I'm not your soulmate?" you ask, crossing your arms. You can tell from the look on his face that he's on the verge of a mental breakdown… or maybe he's just so annoyed and tired that he can no longer respond to your taunts.

"Y/N." he says sternly, giving you an appalling look.

"Aleksander." you reply, not flinching under his dark eyes as you shoot him a defiant look.

"I'm not joking."

"Me either."

You stand there in front of each other, both staring at the other, waiting to see which one of you will give in. Both too stubborn to back down and let the other win. If anyone walked into the war room right now, they would burst out laughing at their general fighting for stares with the sun summoner.

Finally, he sighs and shifts his gaze to the war table and all the maps, plans, reports, and wooden soldiers he has there. Like he can't look you in the eye as he voluntarily gives up his original plans.

"For you." the part of you, that still sees him as your nameless boy from ages ago, whispers.

"You will be next to me all the time." he speaks firmly, and you know better not to question his request this time (never in your life will you admit to voluntarily obeying his orders.)

"Good."

"You will not leave my sight." he adds, trying to either discourage you from leaving or somehow make sure you'll always be around him.

"Good."

"You will sleep in my tent." you give him a offended look. He just rolls his eyes at that and sigh irritated as he shift his gaze to you again. "Don't look at me like that. You will have your own bed."

"Fine." you sigh, realizing that you won't be able to get out of his sight… at least at the beginning of your journey to the Fjerdan border. "Do you have any other absurd demands you want me to fulfill?" you ask, crossing your arms, annoyed with the conditions he has set for you.

"They are not absurd. Thanks to them I will know that you are safe."

"So I can be only safe by your side?" you ask, resentful, ready to argue with him even though it's late and you've spent most of the night working on plans and reports anyway.

"No. You can't do anything stupid by my side." you snort seeing his mischievous, amused smirk.

"Very funny." you roll your eyes and bite your lip to keep from smiling when you see his smirk. He has other plans, however, and comes over to you, taking your chin gently in his hand and forcing you to look at him.

"I'm not kidding, Y/N. I can't afford to lose you from my sight… you're too important to… to all of us."

You watch him carefully as he strokes your cheek with his thumb. And you can't help but feel the familiar feeling of where his skin meets yours—the light inside you buzzing, wanting to come out. However, you now have too much control to let your power out again.

But that's not the feeling that bothers you the most.

His dark brown eyes are much more engaging than the heat that spreads up your cheek with the movement of his thumb. And if you were younger, more naive, and less experienced by so many disappointments, you'd lean forward and taste his soft, enticing lips as you were centuries ago.

But you're no longer the girl he used to know. So you pull away from him and clear your throat without looking him in the eye. You know you'd be lost if you gave in to his piercing, mesmerizing gaze any longer.

"So... I guess I shall go now. I need to get some sleep before the trip. You, too, so don't play with your wooden soldiers anymore, Aleks."

"For the last time I'm telling you, it's one of the creative ways to simulate a tactical operation."

"Of course, general. You're not playing like a little kid at the war table with wooden soldiers. How could I ever assume something like that?" he rolls his eyes at what are you laughing at. "Good night, Aleksander." you say with a gentle smile, pleased that you have achieved what you wanted.

"Good night, Y/N." he replies. His eyes are fixed on yours and his gaze is absent, as if he is still brooding in this moment of closeness between you two. Like he regretted not kissing you.

Or at least you want to think that.

You finally snap out of the trance his dark brown irises put you in and nod to him before turning around and walking out.

Closing the door behind you, you hear the upcoming steps of his heavy shoes. You know well that he stands on the other side. With unknown reasons, he does not open the door. He just stands there. And you do not know what directs him that he decided to approach the door.

Your heart is pounding like crazy when you're on the other side of a closed door, and the urge to go back there and sink greedily into his mouth is almost unstoppable... almost.

You shake your head and go to your chamber, leaving him alone at the door.

Alekdander stared at the door. His hand on the doorknob. He bit his lower lip, wondering what would happen if he opened them and took you in his arms just like he has done centuries ago...

Your receding footsteps snapped him out of his little fantasy. He couldn't think about it now. Whatever it was between you, it was in the past. Now you probably wouldn't appreciate his... soft side he had for you.

But he couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he kissed you. If only he would do what he has longed for for ages and enclose you in his embrace and listen to your steady, comforting heartbeat which pushed away all his shadows and which was proof that he wasn't as terrifyingly and utterly alone as he had told himself all along.

He sighed long and hard. The cold around him and the shadows that once again took over the war room reminded him that your warmth and light had long ago ceased to be his reach. All he could do was watch from a distance. Like a sinner waiting for deliverance (which he will never get) from his little saint.

With the loss of your grandmother's necklace, your dreams turned into flashbacks of Aleksander's life, interspersed with occasional memories of your past encounters.

This night was no different from any other.

You ran through the forest knowing all too well what was about to happen.

It was one of those nights when the Drüskelle attacked the village of Grishas you were live in with your grandmother.

This time they had the courtesy not to burn down the "demon hatchery" but to stalk you like some fucking forest animals. You ran ahead, only glancing back from time to time.

You only had to run a few metres before you reached the safe place where your grandmother was supposed to be waiting for you. You thought back to your nameless companion. You wondered if your dark-eyed boy had found a shelter.

Halfway through, you began to notice riders approaching you. You had no choice. You had to fight them if you wanted to survive and reach the hideout without the bloodthirsty Grisha killers following you.

You looked around, making sure no one else was around you, and used your light to kill them.

Those you couldn't kill, at least you blinded them enough to fall off their horses. It gave you enough time to run away from them and, for a moment, to lose them in the thicket of the forest.

You didn't enjoy the peace for long.

The Drüskelle surrounded you rather quickly, attracted by your rare skills. Before you had time to look back, one of them threw a metal net at you.

You hissed in pain as you felt the protruding metal spikes digging into your skin. Just as you were about to summon all your light to blind them all, the clearing was plunged into total darkness.

You breathed a sigh of relief, lying on the ground and listening to the screams of suffering of your tormentors, who were slowly beginning to be swallowed up by the shadows. You didn't open your eyes as everything went quiet. You were too tired to move a finger and blood was still oozing from your wounds.

The weight of the metal mesh was lifted off you, and strong, familiar arms lifted you off the ground, placing you on someone's lap. You sighed at his scent and relaxed completely in his arms.

Your moment of calm lasted until you felt an extra pair of hands on you. You tensed in his arms and opened your eyes, panicked and ready to attack the young woman kneeling in front of you.

"Shh…it's okay, sunshine. You're safe." he whispered in your ear, still holding you close to his chest. "Luda is a healer. She will help you."

The woman nodded and smiled. "So you're his famous sunshine... I've heard a lot about you from him. He's been pining for you for months now. Even his mother is sick of him mentioning you all the time and missing you like some puppy in love." she teases as she puts her hands to your wounds. Only now do you notice that you have an arrow in your leg.

"Luda!" he hisses, scolding her. "This is not the time and place. We need to get out of here as fast as possible." The woman sticks her tongue out at him, but she speeds up her work anyway.

For a brief moment, you feel jealous of the bond they have with each other. But you choose to ignore it. It'll be better if he finds someone else. After all, you'll live forever, and he... will just be a wonderful memory. However, you can't help but turn gently in his arms and give him a mischievous glare as you ask, "Did you miss me?"

He freezes for a moment and stares at you intently, lingering on your lips for a moment too long for Luda and you not to notice. But only you hear his soft whisper and the warmth of his breath as he comes back to himself and confesses quietly, looking only at you, "Day and night."

You look at each other and you know that if you had a little more time, even the presence of his friend wouldn't stop him from leaning in and kissing your lips, which he's been longing for since you left him with that mischievous smirk and that lame nickname instead of your real name.

But the pounding of hooves pulls you out of that moment. Luda jumps up first after healing you and waits for the two of you to move on. He helps you get up. You thank the healer for healing you and are about to leave them to run alone when a strong hand on your wrist stops you.

Dark eyes stare at you menacingly, leaving you no room to argue. "You're not going anywhere. I need to keep an eye on you until it's safe." And with that, you are drawn along with him and Luda. The three of you keep running, traversing the forest as fast as you can.

He protects the three of you by creating shadows that hide you in the thicket of trees. Suddenly it starts raining. The three of you sigh with relief, knowing full well that the rain will destroy your tracks and you will lose them much faster. You only stop in some cave, all exhausted from running, when you stay quiet.

He pulls you close, wrapping his arms protectively around you. And despite you don't want to admit it, you know there's nowhere as safe as here in his arms.

You feel his heart racing in his chest and pounding like crazy. You lean against him more, causing him to rest his cheek against your head. His nose brushes your cheek lightly, making you shiver and blush slightly.

The bastard smiles for a moment, still listening to see if anyone is approaching you. Luda gives you two a meaningful look. You ignore her and spin in the arms of the shadow summoner.

"I... I think I will go now."

"Absolutely not." he protests and reaches out to grab your wrist to make sure you don't stray too far from him. You roll your eyes at him and sigh in annoyance.

"My grandmother is waiting for me. I was meant to join her ages ago. She must be worried."

"Then he will escort you there." Luda speaks up, gaining both of our attention. "Don't look at me like that; you'll panic until you see her again, and the saints know when that will be. Please, for my sanity and everyone around him, let him."

We both blushed, looking awkwardly at each other. Neither is ready to look the other in the eye or initiate a cave exit. Luda sighs and pushes us out of our hiding place.

You start walking, and he faithfully follows you, keeping a close eye on the terrain. The silence between you is heavy. You both know very well that you may not meet again, being on the run all the time and escaping the attention of dangerous, hostile people. At some point, you reach a crossroads where you decide to say goodbye to him. Your grandmother's safe place is in sight.

"So… I guess that's it." you say when you stand in front of each other.

"Yes... I guess it is." he says, looking at you absently, thoughtfully. His tone of voice is… sad, regretful that you two just got back together and you're already walking away from him.

"I.. um... I'm not good at goodbyes." you speak awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do. He smiles tenderly, seeing you so lost for the first time.

"Neither am I." he admits, but his posture and gaze convey more composure and confidence than you currently have.

However, you both know what you really want right now.

You stare at each other for a moment longer before moving towards each other and connecting your lips in a long-awaited kiss. You pull him closer by the lapels of his coat, and he entangles his hands in your hair, preventing you from moving away from him. You don't want to. You cling to him, afraid that he will disappear in a moment, catching the last moments you can spend with him before returning to the brutal reality where you can't be together.

You pull away from each other only because you're both out of air. But you don't pull away from each other. If anything, he pulls you even closer and rests his chin against your shoulder, inhaling your scent and trying to obscure every detail of you.

"Take care of yourself." he says while still hugging you. The warmth of his breath caresses your cool cheek, making you shiver.

"I will." you promise as he pulls back just a tiny bit so he can look at you.

"And don't walk through the forest alone."

"How else am I supposed to give you a chance to be my hero?"

You both giggle, staring at each other. The smile on your face slowly fades as he moves closer to you. He places his hand on your cheek and leans in towards you. You hold your breath, captivated by his next move. You close your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you, but instead he leans in to whisper in your ear.

"Aleksander."

You freeze. You stare at him as he reluctantly pulls away from you, dropping a strand of your hair that he has taken between his fingers. And this time it's you staring at his receding silhouette while your heart is pounding like crazy.

Aleksander… your nameless hero soon turned into your villain and the cause of suffering not only for you, but for all the inhabitants of Ravka.

"Rise and shine, Darkling!" you greet him and enter his chambers, after making sure you close the door behind you and only he can hear you.

"I've cut people in half for saying that nickname." he is dawdling and leaving his bedroom. He frowns as he sees that you've changed the colour of your kefta and are now proudly wearing a dark blue, symbolising your allegiance as an Etherealki but at the same time emphasising your uniqueness as a sun summoner.

"But not me. I'm a sun summoner, and we're in your chambers. You won't risk cutting any of your belongings, and you accidentally need me badly for your machiavelous plans, so I feel very safe."

"I can always punish you for your disobedience, sunshine. I am your general, after all." you snort, pretending that using that nickname didn't do anything to you.

"I don't exactly remember the moment I agreed to join your army." you cross your arms and lean against one of his armchairs, glaring at him defiantly.

"That was when you moved into the apartment next to me, didn't you notice?" he asks with a mischievous grin, walking over to you.

"The bed was too comfortable." you say, shrugging your shoulders.

You take his black kefta that was left on the armchair and throw it at him. You snort, amused, and then laugh as he, completely unprepared for your move, lets the kefta slap him in the face.

He frowns and puts on his kefta, studying your smiling face. You don't expect it at all when he suddenly reaches for a pillow and throws it at you.

You gasped in surprise, but then smiled widely, laughing. Amusement sparkled in your eyes as you tossed a pillow at him and grabbed another.

Aleksander dodged your attack and approached you, trying to yank the pillow out of your hands. You fought for a while, you laughing amused, he smiling, hearing your laughter, which for centuries only haunted him in dreams.

He couldn't deny even to himself that hearing that sweet sound again, seeing the dimples formed from your wide smile made him forget everything else.

He finally managed to snatch the pillow from your hands and tossed it behind him. You were pinned to the wall by him. You both stared at each other, breathing fast after the little fight you two had just had.

For a while, you were just Aleksander and Y/N again. Two people who had nothing on their mind except the nagging question of whether the other craves and longs as much what you once had between you.

To feel the familiar scent, the soft, electrifying touch, the softness of lips, the quickened heartbeat uniting in the same sure rhythm as you both lose yourself completely in each other, limiting your world only to the only one you ever wanted.

And you know that if he leaned in and connected your lips right now, you'd give up. You would forget everything, everything but him would be meaningless to you.

That is why you silently thank the saints when, at the moment when he begins to lean in to kiss you after centuries of longing for the comfort only your lips could give him, someone knocks at the door.

You pull away just in time as heartrender enters Aleksander's chambers after a short knock. The man stops, obviously shocked to see you in the general's chambers.

"What is it, Ivan?" Aleksander asks.

His voice is cool, subdued, you know it all too well. You've never heard him speak like that before. Like an imperious general who would not tolerate opposition or interference in his plans. And this Ivan's sudden intrusion obviously didn't suit him.

"It's... time to go, general. Our people are waiting."

"Good. I shall be right there in a minute."

"Of course, sir."

Ivan go out of the room, leaving you two alone again. Aleksander clears his throat.

"Ready to go?" he asks, turning to face you, the tone of his voice is... different. Warmer, more familiar, the gentle way he always turns to you, even when he's mad as hell.

"Yes. I have my favorite weapons and Fedyor made sure I packed a spare kefta. By the way, I don't need a nanny, Aleksander. Stop sending your heartrenders to watch over me."

"Would you prefer me to be in their place, then?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. You don't miss the sparkle of amusement in his eyes as he opens the door, letting you out first.

"Maybe... with your many general's duties, you wouldn't have time to keep an eye on me." you speak cunningly. Aleksander smiles genuinly.

He hadn't expected this morning to be so... peaceful and carefree. Things weren't always like this with you, and he feared he wouldn't count on it to happen especially now. But he was wrong... and strangely he could get used to it. As long as you were the only one to ruin his plans and expectations.

"That's why you would participate in them with me." he says teasingly which makes you roll your eyes.

"You know how to entertain a girl, General." you snort, slapping his arm with yours as you shove him lightly, speeding towards the exit of the Little Palace.

Aleksander frowns as he sees the black steel, shining in the sunlight, sticking out of your boot.

He speeds up, catching up with you again. Your kefta flapping behind you two as you walk at a brisk pace, ignoring Grishas' gazes at you.

"Well, it seems that I'm so memorable that the girl can't part with a memento of me. It's my dagger, isn't it, sunshine? The one I gave you ages ago."

"What? No. Do you think ordinary steel would last that long?" you ask, trying to mock him, but Aleksander knows better.

"Under the protection of good Durasts? Undoubtedly." he says confidently as he takes advantage of your moment of inattention and pulls out your dagger.

He turns it over in his hands, smiling when he realizes he's right. However, you quickly take the steel from his hands and put it back in your shoe.

"I... you know, even if it is the same dagger, it doesn't matter, because you are already more under my 'unmemorable spell' that you decide to take as your sign the one I made for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Please... the sun in the eclipse? It was my idea." you say, pointing to one of the banners on the walls of the Little Palace.

"Maybe yes, maybe not. It was centuries ago. Who would remember that? But you, sunshine, are so sentimental that you kept this dagger. And I tought you were too smart to be seduced by me."

"Do not flatter yourself. It's just a good weapon." you say, trying to brush him off, but that goofy smirk on his lips doesn't disappear even after you leave the palace walls and go into your stable clothes.

"Surely. Because it was mine."

"Be careful. Your ego is starting to get bigger than the fold."

The memory of the fold effectively destroys the playful atmosphere between you two.

And you kind of regret bringing it up on purpose as you watch him tense next to you and walk off without a word, to talk to his most trusted men.

You look away from him and tighten your hand on your grandmother's bracelet. You promised to stay away from him. Meanwhile, you were going to a war against Fjerdans with the man who was the reason why you lost everything what was precious in your life. The only family and shelter you had known.

Aleksander could be your soulmate, but your potential relationship wouldn't do any good.

At least that's what you were trying to tell yourself, watching out of the corner of your eye as the man who created the fold made sure all his soldiers were ready to leave and for the coming fight.

And in that moment, he seemed to you who he wanted you to believe. Protector of all Grishas. Their savior. Starless Saint...

You flinched, looking away from him as he climbed onto his horse. His dark coat over his kefta wrapped around him like shadows, and the deep blackness reminded you of the horrors of the fold.

No. He was just a Black Heretic. An unfeeling, power-hungry monster who has caused millions to suffer.

At least believing in it was an easier solution for you. Unlike him, you've always been looking for easiest way of solving problems... and you couldn't help, but wander maybe you were the selfish one after all?

The neighing of a horse break you out of your reverie. Aleksander rides up to you on his black horse and extends his hand in your direction, inviting (or rather commanding) you to ride with him.

"I can ride a horse by myself." you snort, crossing your arms.

"I didn't doubt." he says in a serious, cold tone, looking at you defiantly in the eyes. His hand is still open for you to take.

You look between his hand and his dark eyes. Behind you, you hear the murmur of other Grishas talking.

One stern look from Aleksander silences everyone. They begin to prepare to leave again, only a few have the courage to cast furtive glances your way.

"Please, Y/N." he whispers so only you can hear him. You know why he wants you to ride with him. The Fjerdans took more from you than both of you would like to admit. He was afraid of losing you… even though you were still an annoying brat to each other.

You roll your eyes and take his hand. You sit in front of him. His hands embrace you and hold you. Enough to respect your privacy and enough to make sure you don't fall. Always a gentleman. You take the horse's reins and, with his order, you all ride out of the palace.

Two weeks. That's how long you managed to stay out from any troubles. (Or rather, how long it took you to get to the Fjerdans border and settle into the camp.)

More than once you fought, you ran, you tried to survive, holding on to your dear life as the only precious thing you had.

But you've never been in a war before. You did not know the realities that awaited you. And Aleksander took great pains not to let you know them or stick your nose out of the camp.

Which annoyed you a lot. That's why you decided to sneak out for a walk when Aleksander was too busy to notice.

And that's how you ran into Drüskelle.

You weren't looking for trouble, really. And you would have made it safely past them and back to camp if they hadn't had other Grishas at the end of their blades.

Therefore, without thinking much, you summoned your light and attacked them.

You managed to free some of the Grishas. They quickly joined the fight against Drüskelle. Some of them (the most wounded) took advantage of the opportunity and ran towards the camp.

Blood was pouring around you. You could feel the familiar thrill of power as you unleashed your light. You rarely summoned them in large numbers, but since Aleksander announced your existence to the world, you've had to get used to it.

You couldn't hide anymore. The summoner of the sun had to go on the scene and save the world... even if you weren't ready for it or wanted to be a saint or a hero.

You got so lost in thought that you separated yourself from the group of fighting Grishas. You were alone with a few Drüskelles in an empty field. You decided to summon a huge ball of light and blind them all, burning out more than their eyes in the process.

Before you could do it, one of them approached you from behind. You stabbed him in the chest with a sword, but another approached you and handcuffed your hands, preventing you from summoning.

He kicked you to the ground and stood over you, sword in hand, ready to kill you.

But suddenly he froze. Blood gushed out of him, falling partly onto you as his lifeless body fell to the ground, cuted in half. Black, shadow-tainted blood oozed from his wounds.

You looked up to see Aleksander. He comes to you worried. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that you're fine.

"Still don't need my help?" he asks, extending his hand to help you up. "I should tie you to me."

You huff furiously as you stand up by yourself. More annoyed that he was the one who helped you than that he killed Drüskelle. You shake off your blue kefta and look around the clearing and the halved bodies.

"We could have questioned them first." you say mad. He sighs as he looks at you. You see a flicker of tiredness before he puts his mask back on.

"Is there anyone other than you who does things right in your eyes?" he asks, rummaging through the pockets of the dead Fjerdans and pulling out the key to the handcuffs.

"A lot of people. Of course not you." you say as you walk up to him and lift your handcuffed hands.

"Maybe I should have left you in those handcuffs then." he turns and walks away from you towards the camp.

"Aleksander!" you shout after him, not caring if anyone hears you, and run to catch up with him. Aleksander looks at you reprovingly and sighs, shaking his head.

The moment you are about to grab his hand, you stumble. And if it weren't for the man's quick reflexes, you'd have landed on the ground.

Aleksander catches you and helps you stand up again. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the sleeve of his kefta slip down, revealing the tattoo of your name on his wrist. You stare at it for a moment, somehow captivated by the black writing that resembles your handwriting.

You've only seen his name on your wrist twice in your life. You always made sure you had a bracelet from your grandma which hid it. And now, seeing Aleksander just wearing a tattoo of your name like it was the most ordinary and normal thing to do, makes you feel kind of guilty.

Especially after he glances disappointedly at your bracelet wrist and pulls away from you, covering his soulmate sign with his sleeve.

He clears his throat and tosses you the key. You catch it and look at him carefully.

"In five minutes at the camp. If you don't come back, I'll bind you to my heartenders." he speaks coldly, and even though you can't see his eyes and his tone remains neutral, you know he's hurt. You know that you hurt him. And you don't feel good about it at all.

"As you wish, general." you reply in an equally unemotional tone, and somehow the fact that you named him by his title creates an even greater gulf between you.

He walks away, his black cloak billowing behind him as he leaves you alone in a clearing full of corpses.

You've done it to him hundreds of times. And yet the taste of your own medicine is more bitter than you thought. And you can't help but wonder if it was killing him as much as it was killing you right now.

You came back to camp in a bad mood. Whispers about how Sankta Y/N saved Grishas from the Drüskelles group didn't make you feel any better.

You tried to spot Aleksander's black kefta in the crowd of people. You needed to talk and work things out between you two if you were going to work together to win this war against the Fjerdans.

It's not that you didn't like it when he spoke to you coldly and act distantly towards you. It didn't bother you at all. Not even a little bit...

You return to the camp and as you go deeper, into the zone where the highest rank soldiers are, you feel the atmosphere change to... more tense.

Finally, you see Aleksander. He's talking to Ivan, his expression is... stoic. He wears his mask again, hiding his emotions when Ivan gives him some information.

You approach them and manage to overhear what Ivan is saying. You freeze, standing right behind Aleksander. The king sent soldiers of the second army to the front, where the Fjerdans forces were at their greatest.

The king sent them to slaughter… certain death. You both knew it. Aleksander nodded to Ivan and walked briskly towards his tent, not wanting to hear any more about Grishas' losses in his army.

You sigh, shifting your gaze to the heartrender. "How many?"

"Hundred. More or less." you nod, whispering a silent thank you. The guilt begins to build up inside you.

You were the summoner of the sun. One of the most powerful Grisha… and you still couldn't protect your people. You spent hundreds of years in hiding, developing your obsession with destroying the fold that you failed to see another, more sinister problem in the heart and borders of Ravka.

You let your personal grudge overshadow everything else. And on your way to Aleksander's tent you couldn't help but wonder… was the fold really the problem?

You hesitantly enter Aleksander's tent and pull down the tent's curtain behind you. As you'd expect, his shadows roam the room as he darts around the room looking for some papers.

"What? Are you going to give me another lecture about my incompetence? Or remind me that I'm a monster?" he asks, not hiding his anger as he hears your footsteps inside his tent.

"That's… wasn't exactly my intentions…"

"So say what you want and get out of my sight." he growls in frustration as he flips through the various plans, sheets, notes, and maps on his small desk. Other papers and books lay scattered around the tent, cluttering it.

"I have… some idea how to solve this problem."

"What? Will you make a big ball of light that everyone will be scared of?" he asks sarcastically, mocking you as he reaches for his glass of whiskey.

"Aleksander..." you sigh, hurt, and try to put your hand on his shoulder in comfort, but he pulls away from you as if your touch burns him.

"No, Y/N! You have no idea what's going on here. You've been hiding for hundreds of years from the eyes of others and you didn't care about the fate of the Grishas! Leave me alone and let me take care of my people."

"There are my people too! I want what's best for them too!" you argue with him, furious that he treats you this way. None of this was your fault...or so you thought.

"For how long? How long will it be before you leave them when they need you the most?!" you frown, understanding the slight allusion and hint of resentment in his voice.

"Are you really doing this about us? You're pathetic." you say and turn on your heel to go to your part of the tent, don't want to talk with him anymore today.

"Says a woman who can't defend herself and runs away from everything." he taunts, sipping alcohol from a glass as he watches you avoiding confrontation.

"I can take care of myself!" you scream in fury, walking up to him in three big strides to stand in front of him and prove him wrong.

"Somehow you always end up saved by me! And you always treat me worse than the dirt under your shoes."

"Because you are my curse. The reason I fell, the reason I lost everything! I hate you! I hate you for being the Black Heretic! I hate you for creating the fold! I hate that your damn name is on my wrist!" you scream, pounding his chest with every sentence you say. He grabs your wrists and digs his fingers hard in the place where his name should be on your wrist.

"Oh, believe me, it bothers you less than me. For hundreds of years I have been forced to suffer because of your immaturity and indecisiveness." he growls furiously in your face as you both send a hostile stares at each other.

"My immaturity? My indecisiveness?"

"I wasn't the one of us who denied having a soulmate for hundreds of years. If anyone of us is pathetic here, it is you, sunshine."

"Me? Denying you? Look now."

You speak and step across the space between you. You pull him to you by the heel of his black kefta and kiss him passionately, aggressively, putting all your anger and desire for him into the kiss.

You are to pull away from him and sneer at how he is charmed by your lips when he suddenly pushes you against the desk. Your hips hit the wood as Aleksander presses his body against yours, kissing you greedily as his hands cup your cheeks - making sure you won't leave until he's taken what he wants and needs, what he's so desperately longed for over the centuries.

You answer him with equal passion, tugging on his hair at the base of his neck as you pull him as close to you as possible.

Nothing else in this world matters to you now. Volcra and Drüskelle could invade that tent and you and Aleksander would still be kissing, perhaps just sending your light and shadows against them to keep them out of your way when you finally get what you want.

The desk digs into your hips uncomfortably, but you'd be damned to move away from him now as he continues to kiss you and trails one hand up your body and begins to slowly lift the fabric of your kefta up.

You moan into his lips as his fingertips meet the skin of your waist, amplifying your powers. You can swear that for a moment the rays of the sun flow from your fingers.

Then you pull away from each other. You both breathe heavily, looking at each other as you try to process what just happened between you two.

"Aleksander Morozova… I hate you." you gasp, leaning against his desk as you try to catch a breath. You hate him... for always making you want him more.

"I know." he just whisper, looking at you. You can't read the expression on his face, and his dark eyes take you in completely.

You clear your throat and take a step forward to avoid him and exit the tent, but he blocks your way.

He tentatively raises his hand and places it tenderly on your cheek. You automatically lean into his touch. His eyes move from yours to your mouth. He licks his lips and stares at you silently, thinking of his next move as you stare at him in anticipation.

"What are you doing?" you whisper, your voice barely audible, as if you are afraid that at any moment you will break this moment between you and he will pull away from you when the warmth of his touch is all you want to feel right now.

He doesn't answer you. Instead, he leans forward and gives you enough time and space to move away from him. But you don't. That's why he digs himself greedily into your lips again.

He pushes you back onto the desk, this time you sit on it and wrap your legs around his waist, needing him to be as close to you as possible.

"We should stop." he mumbles, pulling away from your lips and resting his forehead against yours. His eyes are closed as if he's trying to pull himself together to pull away from you.

"We should." you agree, but lean in to kiss him again. He doesn't protest, he wraps his arms around you, pinning you to the desk.

"I have people to safe." he whispers, moving his kisses to your jaw and neck. You shiver at the feel of his warm breath and soft lips against your cold skin.

"We have." you correct him and slowly undo his kefta.

"I shouldn't want you."

"Neither should I." you agree with him, sliding the black material of his kefta off his shoulders. Aleksander picks you up from the desk and kisses you passionately, carrying you to the bed. In the meantime, you're working on undoing his shirt.

The feel of your fingers on his bare chest sobered him up. He hovers over you, watching you intently as he engages in an internal battle with what he wants to do and what he should do.

"Y/N." he whispers, his eyes locked on yours as you play with his hair.

"Aleksander." he sighs, resting his forehead against yours as you stroke his cheek.

His beard tickles you slightly, but you don't mind. In fact, you think he's much better with it... handsomer. Aleksander closes his eyes, rubbing his nose against yours.

"Say you didn't want this. Say that you hate me. That you despise me, that you loathe me. That you wish I died in the fold centuries ago." he says, cupping your cheek tenderly with his hand and opening his eyes, waiting for your response.

"You know I can't... you are everything... everything I have left." you admit. And apparently that's all Aleksander needs to dive into you and take your lips again in a passionate kiss.

You moan into his mouth as he starts ripping off your navy kefta and throwing it behind him. You have the feeling that after this night you will only be able to wear the black one he gave you earlier. But somehow you don't mind anymore.

And you think... that maybe you could be his soulmate for a while... or at least for this one night... to feel his electric touch once again.

[andiwriteordie]

Mike coming out to Will sometime during season 5 before they’ve confessed their feelings for each other or anything hehe

For the writing prompt requests <3 also CONGRATS ON 1500 ANDI U DESERVE IT!!

hi elli!!! oh my god this prompt 🥺 this is so sweet, and it was so much fun to write. (side note i have now written like 3 coming out stories in the span of a week so. that's fun!) also tysm!!! <3 i hope you enjoy this!

—

you pull me in (and i’m a little more brave)

Mike Wheeler has two secrets.

He’s never really been a person who has liked keeping secrets, at least not from his friends. He’s kept secrets from his parents for his entire life, so that doesn’t really matter. But Mike has always tried to be honest with his friends. After all, the Party’s first rule isn’t “friends don’t lie” for nothing.

But Mike Wheeler has two secrets, and he’s kept them close to his chest for the past couple of years.

The first secret is this:

Mike Wheeler is gay.

Yeah, that… that had been something difficult to come to terms with. It all started back in the fall of 1985 before everything went to shit and before the world started ending and before they got trapped into an interdimensional war with One and the monsters of the Upside Down. Talk about an awful time to have a sexuality crisis. 

Seriously. Mike spent… a lot of sleepless nights, absolutely terrified that his first big secret would be found out. When you’re fighting a monster who literally reaches into your brain and brings out the worst parts of you—the parts that you’re terrified to even admit to yourself—it’s really not a good idea to have this big of a secret. 

At least… at least that’s what Will said when he came out as gay, early last year.

God, he’s the bravest person that Mike knows. There’s no one braver in the world than Will Byers—not even El, whom Mike believes is really fucking brave. But El, as incredible as she may be, is also a superhero. Of course, she can bravely face monsters and government scientists and anything the world throws at her. Mike thinks he’d be braver too if he was better than Superman.

Will’s just Will though, and he’s been through so much. And yet, he makes the decision to get back up every time the world tries to knock him down. He stands up against all the monsters and the bullies and every single being that’s ever hurt him, and yet, he still manages to be the kindest, most loving person Mike has ever met. He’s never lost sight of who he is, and everything he does inspires Mike to be braver. 

There’s no one braver than Will Byers—no one better in the world than Will Byers.

And that’s exactly why Mike decides that Will Byers should be the first person in the world to learn his secret.

The two of them are sitting in Mike’s bedroom now. Earlier, he’d asked Will if they could talk—alone, he’d been quick to add. Naturally, Will had been a little bit confused, but he’d nodded and promised to come over to Mike’s room in the lab after dinner.

And so… here they are. 

Mike’s heart pounds inside his chest, and his hands feel clammy. Of all the people in the world, Will is going to be the most accepting. Everyone in the extended Party has been accepting of Will and Robin (who’d come out a few months before Will), so honestly, Mike knows he shouldn’t worry about their reactions. But still, he’s never shared this secret with anyone before, and… and it’s terrifying.

But this is Will.

And Will makes him feel brave.

So, with Will Byers’ kind hazel eyes staring back at him, Mike takes a deep breath, and he wrings his hands nervously.

And he chooses to let his walls down.

“Will… I… I’m gay,” Mike admits, his voice impossibly soft. He doesn’t dare look up at his best friend—not yet. The memories of words so cruel and so hurtful, said years ago on a day full of pouring rain and his worst mistakes, make their way to the forefront of his mind. “I… I’ve known for a while now, and I, um… I didn’t want to admit it... But I… I don’t want to hide anymore.”

Another breath—shaky and quiet this time.

Mike dares to look up, and he meets Will’s eyes. “I, um… I said some things to you when we were younger,” Mike whispers, and though his vision is a little blurry because of the tears stinging his eyes, he can still see the recognition that flashes across Will’s face. “Some really, really hurtful things… and I’m sorry, Will. I… I know it’s no excuse, but… that’s when I was first starting to realize this about myself… And I was scared, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

One more breath. In and out.

“I wanted to tell you first,” Mike says, his voice soft, “not… not just because you’re gay too, but… but because you’re my best friend in the entire world, Will. And I just… I trust you more than anyone else, you know? And also… because you make me feel brave enough to be myself. So… yeah. That’s it, I guess.”

For a moment, Will just stares back at Mike, as if he’s searching for… for something or trying to understand Mike better. There’s curiosity but also compassion and understanding in Will’s eyes, and before Mike knows it, he’s being pulled into Will’s arms.

“Oh, Mike,” Will whispers, holding him close. 

The embrace is warm and familiar and comforting, and God, fresh tears well in Mike’s eyes as he all but collapses into Will’s hug. Will’s arms wrap around him tighter in response, and Mike sniffles, burying his head in his best friend’s shoulder.

 “I’m so proud of you,” Will murmurs, rubbing Mike’s back gently. “God, I am so, so proud of you, Mike. You have no idea. Thank you. Thank you for… for trusting me and for being you. You’re incredible, and I’m so proud of you.”

Somehow, just like he always does, Will knows exactly what to say. He knows exactly what Mike needs to hear, and Mike can’t help the watery laugh that escapes his lips. “I didn’t really do anything,” he admits. “Nothing that you haven’t done.”

“Hey.” Will pulls back, just enough so they can look at each other now, and he smiles at Mike, gentle and familiar. “Coming out is terrifying no matter what, and it’s not about me. It’s about you and how brave you are and how incredible it is that you’re accepting who you are. So… I mean it, Mike. I’m proud of you, and thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

Will pauses for a brief moment; then, he smiles again. “When I came out,” he says softly, “Robin told me this… She said that the world becomes a better, more beautiful place whenever anybody accepts who they are and shares it with the world. So… just remember that, okay?”

Mike can’t help but smile, and he reaches up, putting his hand on top of Will’s. “Okay,” he whispers back. “Thanks, Will… Seriously. Thank you for… for everything.”

The look on Will’s face turns soft again, and for a moment, the world shrinks until it’s just the two of them. Something wildly beautiful and familiar and electric lingers in the air between them, close enough for Mike to reach out and grab it, and he nearly does.

Because, you see, Mike Wheeler has two secrets—though, he’s now shared one of those secrets with someone and is starting to find the courage to share it with others.

The first secret is this: 

Mike Wheeler is gay.

The second one is… a little more complicated than the first, and it’s this:

Mike Wheeler is in love with Will Byers.