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mrsjavierp · 7 months

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Where you belong?

Chapter 9 - I'll be your Dirty Little Secret

Javier Peña x latin!f!reader

Summary: Running away from life as you always knew to start a new position as Head Chief on a DEA Office, far away, on Colombia. There, you'll face violence, as you never thought you could. There, you'll meet Javier Peña, your stubborn agent...

Warnings (to the whole fic): +18!, angst, smut, cheating, last relationships, drug dealing - Narcos Universe (not so accurate), bad spanish, english is my second language, use of Y/N and Y/LN. No physical description of the reader, only your clothes (sometimes). The POVs are shifting between reader (first person and Narrator - 3rd person)

(If I forgot anything, tell me, pls!)

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Thanks for your feedback, hope you enjoy this chapter! Hope to hear from you all soon! I gotta say I'm really fucking horny for Javi lol

Narrator's POV:

“Oh, cariño, you're never off the hook, not with me.” - he responded to you, joining you in the bathtub. - “Fuck, cariño, are you trying to cook us? This water is insanely hot!”

You laughed, still feeling fuzzy.

“I like it, Javi…” - you coo.

Your bodies glue as if they were magnets. Your skin, even with hot water, crawls. He sat behind you, covering you, feeling you, getting drunk on you again.

“God, I could stay like this forever, cariño…” - he kisses the back of your neck, softly.

“Me too, Javi… Me too.” - your words come out slowly.

He notices how you melt on top of him. He is relieved that you don't seem desperate to leave him again.

His hands start to touch your waist lightly, with the tip of his fingers.

You groan, Javier smirks.

“Cariño?” - he whispers in your ear.

“Yeah?”

“You know you didn't follow my rules, do you?”

“What do you mean by that, Javi?” - you answer, clueless. You didn't recall that had just happened, your mind was still kinda foggy from all those orgasms.

His smirk grows.

“You came without my permission, cariño. I didn't forget that.”

“And what are you gonna do about it?” - you tease.

His hands started going down your body. You shiver.

“Javi…” - you try to form a sentence and fail.

“Cariño, don't make me be meaner that I intend to… Is how they say: don't do the crime if you can't do the time.” - his hands are on your thighs, avoiding where you need them the most.

“Oh, fuck… But Ja-javi, I-I-I warned you…” - you try to argue, your voice barely came out.

He laughed.

“It wasn't yours yet to take, cariño…” - One of his fingers got inside of you, without any warning. - “You're mine now, cariño.” - A second finger enters.

You bite a moan.

“I wanna hear you, cariño. No more denying what's mine from me, I already told you that. I hate repeating myself.” - his tone was serious and he put in a third finger.

“Holy shit, Javier!” - you exclamate. He barely let you get used to his fingers before he put them inside of you one by one.

His smile is growing by the second.

“That's what I wanted to hear…” - his other hand went to your throbbing clitoris, circling on. - “I know you can be a good girl, cariño. You just needed me to help you get there…”

“Javi, please, I'm still sensitive from all of it, I w-won’t be able to ho-hold…” - you didn't want him to stop, but let you come without any permission. Your legs closed, trying to figure out how to obey him.

“Cariño, I know, that's why it's a punishment.” - his tone was so… Arrogant. The hand on your clitoris circled a little faster. - “If you start to get closer, tell me, okay?”

“Javier, for God's sake!” - you yell again.

“Your pussy is hugging my fingers so tight, I already miss you on my dick, cariño.”

Your mind is still foggy. Javier seemed delighted to see you so… So his. His cariño, his baby girl.

A couple minutes later, you held on the bathtub’s rim and yelled, mixing English and Spanish, to Javier have mercy on you.

He smiled widely and responded:

“Promise me that you're not leaving me again, that you're mine…” - his circular motions on your clitoris got even harder and faster. - “Promise me!”

“I promise, Javi!” - you yell.

“Oh, do you? Are you sure, cariño?” - Javier mocked you.

“Yes, Javier, I do! Please, please let me!”

“Let you what, cariño? Use your words.” - he continued in a ruthless rhythm.

“Javier, for crying out loud, let me come!” - you yell so loud you're sure someone heard you.

Not that any of you cared per say. You can't remember the last man who made you shake like that.

You can feel Javier's smirk behind you.

“I don't know if I believe you, cariño…”

“Javier, I swear to God…” - you manage to respond.

“You can come, cariño.” - he whispered, like music to your ears.

You come hard, squirting in the bathtub, still holding the rim.

You come screaming Javier's name.

And Javier, at that moment, could die a happy man.

You both took an actual bath, after. And one that cleans you.

After a few minutes, you both get out, get dry and go to bed.

As you both walk naked back to your room, Javier asked:

“Do you mind if I sleep here, cariño?”

“Peña, for the fucking love of God, you just fucked my throat and pussy and you're asking if we can sleep together?”

“Of course I am!” - he said, as he joined you in the bed. - “It's your bed, your room, your apartment…” - he leaned towards you and his mouth right next to your ear. One arm held you close to him and the other held your pussy, cupping her. - “But you belong to me, cariño. And this pussy is mine. I'm not letting you run away again.”

You tremble under his hands.

“Javi…”

He had a smile on his voice, you could feel it.

“I love when you call me, you know?

“Oh, yeah?” - you moan.

“Yes, cariño. When you do it, it confirms where you belong.” - he whispered, in a way that made you shake under him. - “Yes, cariño." - he repeated. - “You belong here. Don't forget about your promise.”

“Javi, I won't…” - you managed to respond.

“Good to know, cariño. Buenas noches, Hermosa.”(Good night, beautiful.)

“Good night, Javi.” - you respond.

He kisses you lightly and you both pass out.

***

You wake up alone in your bed.

Fuck, it was payback for leaving him… God, I'm so stupid... - you thought

But then, you smell coffee from your kitchen.

You get up naked, without realizing it and walk towards the smell.

Javier was wearing only his boxers, preparing coffee on your machine.

He turns to you, with a wide smile and a lustful look in his eyes.

“Good morning, cariño.”

He hugs you and feels you against skin. You're so soft.

“Good morning, Javi… I thought you left without saying goodbye.”

“I couldn't do that to you… Not before coffee.” - he jokes. - “Let's have it… I think it's ready.”

He served you and poured himself some in your white mugs. You both drink it, sharing an intimate glance.

“God, that was good, Javi. Future coffee duties are your responsibility in my apartment.” - you smile at him.

He seems genuinely happy to share that moment. His free hand went to your cheek and fondled you.

“Cariño, it's still early… Do you mind serving me breakfast?”

“Sorry, I didn't get it, Javi… You want to eat something?”

“Yes, cariño. Sit on the table and open your legs, please. I'd like to have your pussy as my first meal.”

You look at him, in disbelief.

“We don't have all day, cariño. Go ahead.” - he sat down, waiting.

With your still very much naked body, you sat down in front of him, just like he said.

Javier devoured your cunt as a starved man.

Again.

***

Walking back into his office with a huff, carrying a file with some information on one of Pablo’s Sicarios, he hands it to Steve, who sits at the desk in front of his.

“Got this from the FBI’s archive.” - and hands it to Steve. - “Seems that our boy Luiz is more than just a sicario, look.”

Steve passes through the file, interested.

“God, I need coffee.” - he complains. - “You and your lady friend didn’t let anyone sleep in the fucking building…” - he mocked.

Javier looked at Steve, with his eyes widened.

“What the fuck, Murphy?”

He laughed.

“Dude… You should really keep it down. Seriously. Our boss is our neighbor, if Connie was here, she’d kick my and your ass. Stop this kind of shit.”

Javier stared at him, without saying any words. You both were actually really fucking loud. Seconds later, the phone on his desk starts to ring.

“Agente Peña.” - he picked up.

“Hello, you…” - you say to him, in a sexy tone.

You’re looking through your office window, as Javier’s posture flinches. He’s not expecting you to be this bold at work. He knows you’re really uptight about these things.

Javier clears his throat and tries to put on his usual stoic act.

“What do you want?”

“Not saying my name, pretending to be annoyed so as not to alarm Steve… You’re better at sneaking around than I thought, Javi.”

“You know me so well… What do you need this time?” - Javier responded, ironically.

Steve looked at him, confused.

“You, Javi. I need you. This morning wasn’t enough… Come here to my office.”

He looked at your window, observing your sly smile.

“Well, that certainly gets my attention. I’ll be there in a bit… You should know I’m in a terrible mood, I did not get much sleep last night” - he teases you in the same annoyed tone.

Steve looked at him, shocked.

“And that’s your fault… You barged into my place, did you forget about it?”

“I didn’t forget. I’ve been remembering every minute of it.”

“Oh, you've been remembering?” - you're a little surprised.

“I certainly have…” - Javier tries to hold back a smirk.

“Control your face, Javi. No one can know about us… Not even Steve.” - you recall him.

“I may not be able to do it if you keep talking to me like that.” - his tone is serious, but you know what he actually meant.

“Stop it…” - you laugh.

“You’re the one who called, you stop it!” - his tone sounded harsh, but his eyes on you were full of lust.

You’re both having so much fun with all that teasing.

“That’s true, I did… So stop fooling with me and come to my office, Javi.” - you whisper.

Javier holds back a smile and respond:

“I’m on my way.” - he hangs up.

He gathers some random files, to help him disguise his visit to your office. As he does it, Steve asks:

“Hey, where you going?”

“Y/LN’s office.”

“Good luck and I hope she doesn't kill you...” - Steve snorted.

Javier rolled his eyes and knocked on your door.

“Come in.” - you tell him, in your normal voice.

Peña stepped in, closing the door behind him.

Without looking at him, reading a file in front of you, you demand:

“Lock the door and close the blinds, Peña…” - the same cold tone that hid all your arousal.

His face holds a smug grin, anxious.

You get up, look at him, sit on your desk, as he is across the small office, after he closed the blinds.

He stared at you, you can tell he's holding back his urge to pull you into his embrace.

“Did you miss me?” - you teased Javi.

He gives up on the little self control he's got and comes closer to where you're sitting on the desk. His fingers softly moves along your legs and then your back, as he leaned down your ear and whisper:

“I did, cariño…”

“I missed you too.” - you coo. - “I know it’s not like me to act like this while we’re at work, but… I can’t think about anything else besides how you ate me up on my kitchen table…”

Javi smiled like a kid on Christmas morning. He pulled you closer, kissing your neck before leaning his head back, breathing in your scent.

“I don’t see how that could possibly be a bad thing… I was looking forward to doing a replay of that for the entire day, I couldn’t think of anything else… Oh fuck, you smell so good… Please don’t tell me it’s the same fucking perfume you used in the first night we’ve got together…”

“Okay, I won’t tell you…” - you respond, with a sly smile.

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me, cariño…” - he whispers and kisses you passionately.

The way he touches you is so addictive.

“Oh damn, you’re wearing that shirt that smells like me… The one from the first night…” - you observed.

Javier chuckled.

“I thought it’d be perfect for today… It smells like you and you’re all I can think about.”

“No one noticed, right?” - you question him, kinda afraid. - “Not even Steve? You know we have to be careful…”

“Calm down, Agente Y/LN.” - he said. - “Steve didn’t notice, I’m sure he thinks we’re arguing. Changing the subject a little, to help you relax, I was thinking…” - Javier starts, as his hands move to the flounce of your dress and slowly lifts it. - “We could go on a date tonight, would you like it?” - His hands go to your pussy, to find out that you’re not wearing panties. - “What a dirty girl, cariño… You forgot about wearing panties, when you picked this dress today?”

“I’m not Agente Y/LN for you and I’m not providing evidence against myself to you, Agente Peña…” - you mumble, as he felt how slippery your pussy was, so wet for him already.

“Oh, you’re not, Agente Y/LN? Interesting…” - he coats your folds, moving his fingers as you slightly open your legs and and looks at him.

“Oh, fuck…” - you moan almost inaudibly. - “It’s no-not ‘Agente Y/LN’ for you, Peña… It’s Jefe Y/LN.” - you answer.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” - he pretends to be remorseful, as his index finger teased your hole. You know he’s not sorry. - “Jefe Y/LN, tell me…”

“Ye-yeah, Peña?”

“Did you or did you not forget your panties on purpose this morning, so you could mess around with me?”

You moan, looking at Peña’s smirk. Sometimes, you wish to punch and kiss his face at the same time.

He inserts his index finger on you, slowly, torturing you.

“Yes, I did.” - you confess, between moans.

Javier’s smile grows and he puts his middle finger.

“That’s it, cariño… I just wanted the truth.” - he responded to your confession. His fingers continued to work and you could feel your orgasm building on your gut. Javier seemed to know your body better than any man who ever touched you.

“Oh, Javi!” - you moan softly. - “That’s so good, keep going.” - you demand.

“Do you think you can demand anything in your position, cariño?” - He asked. His voice was arrogant as usual. - “No, cariño, I’m done with you calling the shots for the past few weeks. It’s my turn now.” - he toys with your pussy for a bit more and takes off his fingers.

“You’re mean, Peña.” - you groan, missing his touch.

He smirks, looking deep in your eyes. Without saying a word whatsoever, he pulls you off the table and spins you, so you turn your back on him. He lifts the remaining fabric covering your ass and slaps you.

“Fuck!” - you hiss. - “What are you doing, Peña?”

You hear his belt opening and zipper going down.

“Giving you what you asked for, but in my way.” - answer. - “Hold on the desk, cariño.”

You obey, as he slides into you, with his big fat dick.

Javier’s hands traveled, one tapping your mouth and the other on your throbbing clitoris, circling it fast.

He bit your flash, to shut him up and not alarm what was going on behind your office’s doors.

Both of you came just a few minutes later, holding back all your noises.

Gasping for air and tucking himself into his pants, Javier asks:

“So, I pick you up at 8?”

“Yeah, knock on my door at 8h… But where are we going, Javi?” “Será una sorpresa, cariño.” (It’ll be a surprise) - he said.

At 8 PM sharp, Javier knocks on your door, wearing that black leather jacket that fits his broad shoulders, black pants, boots and button shirt. He was sweating, but had nothing to do with the weather: that night was, surprisingly, a bit chilly.

You opened the door, with a big smile on your face. His eyes widened when he noticed your pretty dress: a bit different from your work clothes, your dress was short, loose and white, hugging your waist and loose in your hips.

You two, as a couple, were almost a Yin and Yang picture.

“You’re gorgeous, cariño.” - Javier recognized.

“Thanks, Javi… You’re not so bad on the eyes yourself.” - you respond. - “Wanna come in for a drink?”

“As much as I’d love to, I’d rather just go… I’ve got no self control, cariño.”

“Okay, lead the way, Javi. I’m quite curious.”

* Javier takes you to a bar downtown, however, he didn’t know that was a reggaeton dancing night. You insisted on staying, as you were eager to see him dancing.

A few drinks later, you begun your plan:

“Come on, Javier! You’re Tex-Mex… You’re telling me you can’t dance?” - you tease him.

“It isn’t a can’t, it’s a won’t dance.” - he rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah? Let’s see.” - And you simply get up and start dancing by yourself, luring looks.

Javier was astonished at how bold you were… Your body moved sensually and naturally as the music played.

A random guy tried to approach you, inviting you dancing, and the fire from Javier’s desire turned into a sea of jealousy flames.

As you’re about to turn the guy down gently, Javier finished his drink in one sip and he scared the guy off.

“I thought you weren’t dancing with me, Javi.” - you whisper in his ear, provoking him again.

His hands pulled your hips to touch his, leading you to dance with him. To your surprise, Javier was actually a good dancer. He spins you, making you stay at the same position he fucked you earlier, but with all those clothes dividing you.

“Well, I wasn't, to be honest… But you’re something else, cariño.”

Javier's voice was so full of desire… Since your ex, you couldn’t remember the last time he or any other did that to you. Javier not only expressed you by using words, but by showing you, touching you.

“Oh my God, Javi… You’re making it so hard…”

“Hard?” - he asked.

“Hard for me to resist you.”

He spinned you, so you could look at him. His eyes were warm, burning for you. At that moment, it felt like only the two of you were there, at the bar, with those sexy reggaeton songs playing.

“Why are you still holding back, cariño?” - he asked, in a tone that made you feel something else in your chest. He wasn't demanding, he wasn't angry. He wanted to understand you, make you feel comfortable with him. One hand was on your waist, holding you against him and the other fondled your face, not letting you look away. You could feel his big body embracing you, holding you firmly, not in a way as if you were fragile, but as if you were precious.

“Javi…” - your voice was nothing more than a whisper. - “How about we continue this somewhere more private? We can go back home… My place or yours?”

“Yours, cariño… Let's go.”

***

Arriving at your place, you both are a bit nervous, not knowing exactly what to say or how to begin an awkward conversation.

“Care for a drink, Javi?” - you ask him, while serving you one more shot of whiskey,

“Sure. Neat, please.”

“My kind of man…” - you joke, smiling and handing him the drink.

You toast, in silence.

“So…” - you start. - “Are we gonna talk about the elephant in the room or not?”

“Well… We can do it, of course. But if you don't wanna do it right now, it’s okay…”

“We kinda have two options: we could actually talk about it or we could do something more… Interesting, per say…”

“I’m listening, cariño…” - Javier lifted his chin and eyebrows, his eyes full of lust, his mind going through possibilities on what you both could do.

You just look at him with a mischievous smile, not responding to him verbally, also fantasizing all the things you’d wanted to do, without knowing how to begin.

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jungle-angel · 10 months

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Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire (Miles Miller x Reader)

Summary: A cozy night by the fire is just what you and Miles need after a long day

Warnings: SMUT 18+ warnings apply. Breeding kink, daddy/mommy kink, so many other kinks I've lost count, mentions of pregnancy and birth etc.

Tagging: @sebsxphia @nobody7102

Miles threw another log onto the fire in the cottage living room, the whole house toasty and warm with all the Christmas decorating having been finished. He was a little saddened with the boys being out of the house for a bit, but his parents knew that you and Miles needed the alone time. Yet the fact that you had just crossed the four week threshold after Jesse's birth, making it ok for the two of you to start engaging in your bedroom activities, mad him a little less sad.

"Fire's going?" you asked, sneaking up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Roaring like a freight train sweetpea," he answered.

You kissed his shoulder, still concealed beneath the threads of his whit button-down t-shirt. Something needy stirred deep inside of you as you kissed the spot again, your hand sneaking its way between the spaces in his shirt.

"Hmmmm, sweetheart," Miles hummed happily.

"Yes, oh handsome husband of mine?" you chuckled teasingly.

"Feeling a little needy this evening?"

You pressed another kiss to the same spot again. "You don't even know the half of it," you purred.

Miles gently brought you around to face him, gently taking your face in his hands and softly kissing your lips. You couldn't get enough of how warm they always were, soft and warm like your shared bed and like the glowing heat of the fire that burned behind you.

Your arms wrapped around him again, your hand running to his lower back and dipping lower and lower into his jeans. You tugged at Miles's shirt, pulling it out of his jeans little by little until you felt the bare skin beneath. Your gentle little touches drew a soft moan from his mouth, like the first breath of air in spring.

"Baby," he murmured. "Gotta......wanna lay down."

You hummed into the kiss as you both lay on the floor, the living room rug a little uncomfortable and scratchy beneath your bodies. Thank God for Miles's quick thinking, otherwise the two of you would be an itching mess.

One throw pillow became two, two became three and so on and so forth until most of the couch cushions and throw pillows had become an odd, but comfortable floor-bed. Miles even dragged a wool blanket off the back of the couch to cover the both of you and keep the heat in.

"Help......help me out sweetheart?" Miles pleaded in between kisses.

"What Miles?" you asked.

"Help me with my jeans?" he said. "M'so hard for you sweetheart, I can't hold it in anymore."

You laughed a little as you undid his belt and pulled it from the loops of his jeans, tossing it aside where it landed with a loud *CLINK!*. His moaning was music to your ears as you unsnapped the button on his jeans and lowered the zipper. You felt his chest rising and falling rapidly as you helped push his jeans off with one of your feet. Already you could feel his swollen cock still trapped behind his tight grey boxers, rubbing up against the space between your legs.

"Miles?" you whimpered. "Miles baby?"

"Oh momma I'm sorry," he apologized. "Here, move your hips up so I can help."

You couldn't help but moan as he helped you off with your own clothes, the way he called you "momma" and the gentleness in his hands as he ran them along your hips and stomach. Miles quickly slipped out of his boxers before helping you off with your black lace underwear, both of you completely naked and at each other's mercy.

You sat up, gently easing Miles so that he could lay on his back, your pussy aching and wet for him, almost on fire from how badly you needed him at that moment.

"C'mon sweetheart," he murmured. "It's ok.......you're alright......oh......oh honey......oh you're so wet for me. Easy......easy now....good......good girl."

Those words would have sent you right over the edge as he gently guided you down onto his cock, slipping inside you with ease and rubbing you just perfectly so that a sweet moan fell from your lips. You wanted to cum right then and there as his hands caressed your bare ass and ran up and down your sides, desperate for the glorious friction going on between your legs.

"Oh.....oh daddy," you mumbled as your hips rocked back and forth against his own. "Feels so good......wanna make you cum and fill me up."

Miles could feel his breath getting just a little shallower, unable to control the desire that burned through his whole body. "Wanna make you a momma again so bad," he panted. "Maybe.....maybe two little girls......feel'em all curled up in that pretty little tummy of yours....."

You couldn't help yourself any longer. Yours and Miles's kissing grew more fervent, more heated as he reached back to grab a handful of your ass. You both jolted against each other, feeling that familiar explosion between your legs and a lazy smile appearing on Miles's face. The two of you leaned into each other and laughed before you rolled off him and he caught you in his arm.

"You're amazing, you know that?" he chuckled, kissing you sweetly on the lips.

"Hmmmm and so are you," you purred.

You and Miles stayed in front of the fire together, laying against each other in the warm afterglow. You gently explored each others bodies, your hand slipping further and further down to caress his cock and give a few gentle strokes while Miles's fingertips ran up and down your back. You had your hand wrapped firmly around his stiff hardness, his own coming to cover your hand protectively. You stayed like that until you could no longer avoid that blissful spell of sleep that soon fell over you both.

#miles miller #miles miller x reader #bad times at the el royale

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anxiouscowboy · 10 months

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A Wholesome GBU Fic Draft/Idea

"Hey, Tuco?"

"Yeah, what? Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?" Tuco turned over on his sleeping roll to face the little boy, still wide awake, looking hopefully at him from across the campfire. His eyes were bright and brown like Tuco's, and for a moment, it felt as if he was staring into the face of his younger self. This kid, ha. Eight years old, four feet tall, and endlessly curious, this kid had been following him and Blondie since they'd reunited in San Antonio. How long had it been, two weeks now? He said his name was Santiago and he came from a village nearby, that his parents were gone and that one day he was going to be a great and famous cowboy...typical kid shit as far as Tuco was concerned. Why not just hogtie the boy and leave him back in town, he'd suggested, but Blondie wouldn't hear of it. That was the strangest thing yet. Blondie, aloof, unfeeling Blondie---he had let the boy tag along, and Tuco had no earthly idea why. We'll drop him at the next town, he'd say, but they never did. So here Tuco sat, the still of a peaceful desert night spoiled once again by the same inquisitive little bastard.

"Sorry," Santiago said with a smile. "I was just wonderin'...Did you really do all the stuff they said?"

"All the stuff that who said?" Tuco glanced at Blondie, propped up against a fallen log, but he was sound asleep.

"The preacher man with the Bible who talked a lot when you were doing your trick with Blondie. He said you did all kinds of bad things and asked God to have mercy on your soul?"

"Mm."

"Well, did you?"

Any other night, Tuco would have told him to shut up and go to bed, or at the very least, go bother Blondie, but tonight he lit a cigarette and puffed thoughtfully for a moment before answering.

"There are two kinds of people in the world, my little friend." he said, "Sinners and Saints. My brother Pablo, he's a Saint. Blondie, he's a Saint sometimes too. But me? Heh. No." he blew out the smoke with a wistful smile. "I guess every angel needs a devil to keep him on his toes, huh?"

"Well," Santiago said matter-o-factly, "I guess I gotta pray for both of our souls then, 'cause I'm a sinner too."

Tuco blinked, completely taken aback, then threw back his head and roared with laughter.

"You little tramp! What the hell have you ever done to call yourself a sinner?"

"Oh, all kinds of stuff! I've tied the girls' pigtails together, put a rat in Mary's lunchbox, took candy from the jar when my teacher wasn't lookin', set my Abuela's rug on fire, 'course that was an accident..."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it---you're a real criminal like me!" Tuco chuckled.

"No I'm not!" Santiago giggled, all too excited by the idea. "I think everybody does bad stuff sometimes," he said a moment later, suddenly serious. "I don't think you're as bad as they say you are. I think you're a good man."

Tuco's stomach dropped. He took a deep breath and hoped that the kid hadn't seen the shock on his face. Eyes prickling, he managed a smile, but no words would come.

"G'night, Tuco." Santiago murmured, rolling over in his sleeping bag and holding his blanket close.

"Good night," came his hoarse reply.

Tuco stared into the fire for what seemed like an eternity, his eyebrows knit together as the little boy snored beside him. He'd been called a lot of things in his life, most of them curses, and well-deserved ones at that, but a good man? That was a new one. He shook his head and looked up into the sky. The stars twinkled brightly beside a waxing crescent moon and Tuco watched them for a moment. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, or why. A good man. Little bastard. Shaking his head, he finished his cigarette and flicked it into the fire, settled in under his blanket and drifted off to sleep.

#the dollars trilogy #the good the bad and the ugly #clint eastwood #lee van cleef #eli wallach #blondie #angel eyes #tuco ramirez #cowboyblogging

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puckpocketed · 8 months

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Tagged by @dwisp and @jules-in-deep thank you for thinking of me!! <3

List 3 ships you like

Madoka/Homura (what if the devil saw god’s suffering and said ENOUGH. what if girls loved each other so much they broke the world !!!)

Moira/Mercy (they’re coworkers, roommates, enemies, lovers, the best in their field, philosophically and morally they are diametrically opposed and they weren’t together but they are definitely divorced!)

Kirk/Spock (we are so close your soul and my soul are made of the same thing!!! i have died for you and i’d do it again ! not platonic, not romantic, but a secret third thing — t’hyla!!!! friend/brother/lover !!!)

First ship ever

Oooghhh… exposing myself here but it’s gotta be cap/iron man. lukewarm on them these days but in hindsight they are foundational to the things i like rn!

last song you heard

Sunkissed by The Vaccines.

favourite childhood book

The Deltora Quest series by Emily Rodda!

currently reading

Techno-Orientalism: Imagining Asia in Speculative Fiction, History, and Media — by David S. Roh, Betsy Huang, and Greta A. Niu

currently watching

This video from one of my favourite esports casters/analysts going over Saudi Arabia’s soft-power moves as they invest in gaming events, and what that means for the future of esports communities and grassroots efforts. It’s very good. If you have any interest in competitive gaming and want to know why paying attention to politics is vital, this is required reading.

currently consuming

Smoked salmon, cream cheese, and cucumber bagel! :3

currently craving

Sour candy!!

idk who has been tagged this is making the rounds on krakenblr jklasdkljsda um. tagging: (all good if you don't wanna !) @olliebjorkstrand @oensible @em-ptynet @lollo12589 @neonfretra @alltyresnomanagement @sregnarkroywen @perfectlysaltycat32 @bbpuckdrop

and of course anyone else who would like to join in consider yourself tagged by me!

#tag game #about tag

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myglassesareinkansas · 1 year

Text

the meaning of aloha

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC

Rating: Gen

Warnings: Angst, Discussion of Death

Summary:

aloha (n.): love, affection, peace, compassion, and mercy; a force that holds together existence

Bryce receives the worst news of his life, and to make it worse, he's in love with Casey. And she's about to die.

Tagging: @openheartfanfics, @choicesficwriterscreations, and @mydemonsdrivealimo

AO3 Link: Here

His entire body trembles, but he holds his head high as he pushes his way past the other doctors. Most of them whisper amongst themselves in the hallways, and here and there, he catches words like anthrax and ricin. There’s a pair of attendings wondering how Casey isn’t dead right now. Others who say they hope Travis suffers.

The nurses huddle around their station, and Bryce stumbles over his feet. Marlene rubs Sienna’s back as she lowers herself into one of the chairs.

“I had a date with Danny tomorrow,” she says, looking up with puffy eyes. “What’s—Marlene, what’s going to happen to him? Sarah? Does anyone know what’s happening to Casey?”

He dips his head, trying to remain nondescript as he shoves open the stairwell door.

“Bryce?”

He ignores her.

“Bryce!” Esme reaches out and grabs his arm. “What’s going on?”

He swallows and shakes her hand off of him. “I just need to go, Esme. Ask Ethan. Or anyone else, really, I just—I need to go.”

She frowns and locks her hand around his wrist. “Like hell. Are you seriously going to leave your girlfriend behind now? When she needs you most?” With her free hand, she points furiously back upstairs. “I know she’s in there! I know my resident is fighting for her life! And like a coward, you’re running away.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not running away.”

“Sure looks like it to me.”

Bryce squeezes his eyes shut, begging his tears to stay away. “Jackie and Elijah are off today. Unless Casey or Sienna texted them, they have no way of knowing what just happened in there. They need to know—” They need to know that Casey might be dead tonight. He shakes his head again and pries Esme’s hand off his wrist. “And I need to make sure my little sister will be safe tonight.”

Esme blinks. “Do you think—”

“Esme, I’ve gotta go.” He doesn’t wait for her response, just sprints down the stairs. His lungs burn, from tears or from running, he doesn’t know.

People call his name. Surgical residents congratulate him on Kyra’s surgery. The one he kicked out of the OR glares at him. Ines tries to talk to him. He can’t hear them. His ears ring, and he grabs his keys and sprints outside.

Once he’s in his car, he breathes deeply. Or at least, he tries to. His breaths come fast and shallow, his hands shake, and he rests his head on his steering wheel.

Fuck.

His body starts to shake again, and as he’s reaching for the blanket in his car — the one that Casey told him to keep on hand, with how cold he gets in Boston weather and how traffic is — the shaking stops, and he bursts into tears.

“Fuck!” He buries his face in his hands, a sob tearing from the back of his throat. “Fucking —” he slams his left hand on the top of the steering wheel “— dammit!” His shoulders curl inwards, and sobs rack his body.

She can’t die. She can’t die. I can’t lose her. I can’t—

The sobs come louder now, and he hasn’t cried like this since he was eighteen years old, and he was flying all the way to Ohio State by himself, with no money, no family, and no friends. He hasn’t cried like this since his favorite teacher, the one who believed in him, the one who believed he could be a great surgeon like Michael DeBakey, fell victim to his parents’ schemes and looked at him with such hurt and betrayal every day of the year after that. He hasn’t cried like this since he was alone and unloved and unlovable, when life was hopeless and he had to carve out hope for himself.

Except there’s not hope now, not really.

Casey’s his best friend, his girlfriend, and he just—he cares about her so much. Everything inside of him begs God to rewind the clock, to put him in that room with the senator when Travis deployed the canister, to let him take Casey’s place. If one of us has to die, let it be me. Not her. Don’t let her die.

I love her.

He screams, his voice scratching the back of his throat, his fingers tugging at his hair. Why did it take so long for me to know? Why did I have to wait?

I love her. I love her I love her I love her.

And she’s going to die.

***

“Okay, Keiki, I’m not going to be back until tomorrow at the earliest.” Bryce moves into his bedroom, chewing his bottom lip. He idly picks up his overnight back and sets it down.

Keiki leans against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest. “Why?”

He sighs and grabs a fresh pair of scrubs and shoves them into his bag. “I told you, there was an assassination attempt at the hospital. They might need me.”

“There are other surgeons.”

He stands up straight, dropping his boxers on the cover. “Casey was a victim of the attack, too. She’s alive —” he nearly chokes on the next words “—for now, but it’s not looking good. One person died already, one’s in a coma, and I don’t think Raf has too much time either.” He shakes his head and moves into the bathroom. “I’m going to stay with her.”

Keiki bites the inside of her cheek and steps into his bedroom. “Anything I can do?”

Bryce tosses his toiletry bag onto the bed and drops to the ground, fishing under his bed for a pair of shoes. “Uh, can you try and find my green sweatshirt? The one from my surfing days? It’s Casey’s favorite.”

She nods and starts rifling through his closet.

“You know the drill: leftovers in the fridge, and you can use my DoorDash account if there’s nothing in there. Don’t leave the apartment unless there’s an emergency, you have my number and Case—” he swallows. “If there’s some kind of danger, go to Mrs. Zimmerman across the hall. She’s a sweet old lady, makes the best cakes, and she’ll take care of you.”

“I know the drill.” Keiki steps away from the closet, a sweatshirt folded over her arm. “I couldn’t find the one you were talking about, but I’ve seen Casey wear this one before.”

Bryce tosses a pair of tennis shoes on his bed and grabs the sweatshirt from Keiki. “Dammit, Casey must still have it at her place. Alright, this is fine.” He kisses Keiki’s head. “Thanks, Keiks. You know I love you, but…”

He’s never said it out loud before.

She nods understandingly and sits on his bed. “You love Casey more.”

He nods in agreement. “Yeah.”

“Have you told her?”

He ignores her, roughly shoving his clothes and shoes into his overnight bag. When he gets to the sweatshirt, he folds it carefully. Casey might not be able to wear it just yet, not while she’s in a hospital gown, but maybe…

“Can you grab the blanket from the couch? Not the one you use for bed, the other one?”

She frowns. “You didn’t answer my question, Bryce.”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “What do you think?” He shakes his head and stalks to the living room. “And now she might die before I can tell her.”

Keiki trails him. “So then tell her! What’s the worst that can happen?” She hops over the coffee table and sits on the blanket before Bryce can pull it to safety. “She already knows the worst stuff about you, and she stuck around.” She clears her throat and shifts on the blanket so he has no chance of pulling it away. “And if she doesn’t have the same feelings, well…at least you told her.”

“Keiks, I—I don’t know. I just…”

She stands up, eyes on fire. “Bryce Kai Lahela, you do not have the luxury of waiting. With Morgan, yeah, I understand. You were in high school, and Mom and Dad fucked her family over. But that’s not Casey. Please, just…don’t do something you’ll regret.” She hands him the blanket. “Tell her.”

He kisses her forehead. “See you tomorrow.”

***

Jackie runs up to him as soon as he steps back out of his car. “Where the hell were you?”

He glares at Jackie and slams his car door shut. His car beeps when he locks it. “In case you forgot, I have a little sister under my guardianship. I had to make sure she would be okay.” He shakes his overnight bag in her face, his keys also jingling with the movement. “Also, had to pack one of these. Like hell if I leave my girlfriend behind.”

She ducks her head. “Sorry, I just—”

He nods and shoulders his way inside. “I know. You’re worried about her. All of us are.” He clears his throat. “Where’s Elijah?”

Jackie walks in front of him. “Follow me.”

“Jackie, please —”

She turns and shushes him before grabbing his wrist. Dragging him along, she leads him into the locker room, where Elijah is just finishing up a call.

“Alright. Tell me if it reminds you of anything.” He turns around, face falling when he sees Bryce. “Sorry, that was one of my undergrad professors. He taught history of medicine and science, so I was hoping he knew something about reactions to biological weapons. Maybe something useful.” He lifts one shoulder in a half shrug. “Shoulda known better, though. He hasn’t done any research on this topic for decades.”

Bryce opens his locker and tosses his overnight bag inside. “That’s okay. It might help, and he might go through his research. Or talk to someone who might know.” He jerks his head in the direction of Casey’s room. “C’mon, let’s go see her.”

Jackie holds up a finger. “Hold on, Aurora’s on her way.”

Aurora runs inside the hospital a few minutes later, shoving past the handful of security guards — all of them shaken — with a shout and “I’m Harper Emery’s niece, let me in!” When she reaches the three of them, she slows to a walk and smooths her hair. “Where is she?”

“Follow me.” They stop at the nurses’ station to pick up Sienna, and then Bryce is jogging to the elevator, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Jackie rests a hand on his shoulder.

“She’ll be alright.”

He stares straight ahead. “You didn’t see her. Or Raf.” He hangs his head. “Fuck.”

“Either way,” Jackie shakes him a bit, “Casey’s probably scared out of her fucking mind. She trusts you. She loves you. Don’t make her more afraid than she already is.”

He lolls his head. “How in the hell am I supposed to do that?”

The elevator door dings and slides open. Jackie twists her lips. “I don’t know.”

Bryce leads them down the hall towards Casey’s room. As they get closer, he squares his shoulders and forces a smile, but he knows it doesn’t reach his eyes. And he knows Casey will notice it, too.

Casey gapes at them when they get to her room. She offers him a relieved smile and holds her hand up to the glass. His bravado melts into something more sincere, and though his smile isn’t as wide, it’s genuine, and he presses his hand against the glass. “Told you I’d be back. This time I brought some company.”

Her roommates crowd the front of the windows, speaking animatedly to her and Raf. He wants to sag against the wall and cry and cry and cry some more, but he tries to keep a brave face on. For her or for himself, he’s not entirely sure.

Ethan steps back and stands next to him. “It’s good. That you’re doing this, I mean. It’s helping her.”

He shrugs, his eyes still trained on Casey. “I wanted her to see her friends. They’re important to her.”

“So are you.” Ethan studies him for a moment. “How are you holding up?” He jerks his head in Casey’s direction. “She talks about you all the time, you know. And I’ve seen you two together.”

Bryce resists the urge to cross his arms. “So?”

“So this has to be just as hard on you for an entirely different reason.” Ethan sighs and squeezes his shoulder. “Look, in my experience, it’s just as difficult to deliver bad news to loved ones as it is to deliver the bad news to the patient. In fact, I think it’s harder. So how are you holding up?”

Bryce licks his lips. “It sucks,” he says quietly.

Ethan nods and faces forward once again. “I wish we’d never taken the senator on as a patient. Not that I’d wish this even on Tobias, but maybe…”

Maybe Casey wouldn’t have been caught in the crossfire.

He nods. “Yeah.”

Jackie gestures around at the lot of them. “We’re going to figure this out. All of us.”

Bryce steps forward and tries to force a smile. “I’m just a surgeon, but I’ll offer whatever help I can.” And it’s fucking nothing.

Casey’s eyes well with tears, and she shuffles closer. “Now’s not the time for that confidence of yours to do a runner, Bryce.”

Sienna cranes her neck to see him. “Yeah, you’re not just anything.”

He meets Casey’s gaze, and he prays she can read the love in his eyes. I’ll do whatever I can to save you. “Sorry, I mean we’ve got this.”

Casey wipes her cheeks furiously. “That’s better.”

Everything in him wants to reach for her, to tug her into his arms and bury his face in the crook of her neck, to squeeze her hair and whisper that he loves her. He wants to hold her hand and kiss her face and cradle her cheeks in his hands.

But in between them is a wall of glass, impenetrable, separating the dying from the living. “See you soon, Case.”

***

Baz leans back in his chair, shaking his head solemnly.

Bryce’s heart sinks. “So June was wrong?” We don’t have much time left.

“No,” Baz says, scratching the stubble on his chin, “June was right. It’s a maitotoxin.”

A heart-wrenching sob tears from Sienna’s throat. Elijah reaches up to rub her shoulder in consolation. Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose and leans against the wall. Jackie sets her chin, tears filling her eyes.

Bryce swallows, furrowing his brow. “But —” his blood runs cold, and he shudders as a shiver runs up his spine. “Fuck, there’s no cure for that.” He searches for a friend in the lab, but Sienna’s sobbing, Elijah’s fighting his own tears, Jackie won’t meet his eye, and he knows no one else except Ethan. He holds Ethan’s eye. “Casey’s—that means Casey’s going to die?”

The crushing weight of it all threatens to gut him. He stands up, and he nearly pitches forward. His stomach lurches, and whether that’s from a need to vomit or from the sobs threatening to bubble up, he doesn’t know. “I’m going to lose her,” he whispers.

Baz reaches out and catches his wrist. “She’s not gone yet.” With his free hand, he rubs his forehead. “We’ll try and save Rafael too, of course, but Casey’s lucky because she didn’t get as much of the toxin. She might survive.”

Bryce shakes off his hand. “Baz, what are the chances of her making it?” He shoves his hand through his hair, his chest heaving. “There’s no cure. And even if you guys could make one, she doesn’t have weeks! She doesn’t even have days! She —”

Ethan crosses the room quickly and sets both hands on his shoulders. “I know you care about her —”

Bryce shoves Ethan away. “Like hell! She’s my girlfriend, and I lo—” he sucks in a deep breath. “What can you all do? None of you are God! She’s going to die here, and if not tonight, then tomorrow, and —” his knees buckle. Ethan wraps an arm around him and helps lower him to the ground.

No one speaks.

***

He doesn’t know how his feet move. Right now, it feels like he can’t breathe, like his lungs stop before he can breathe in. His body trembles with each step, and yet, he can’t move quickly enough, can’t wait to stand in front of Casey’s room and see her alive for one of the last times.

Bryce squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head once. Tears escape down his cheeks, and he quickly reaches up to swipe them away. Sienna cries softly, her head on Jackie’s shoulder. In front of him, he can hear Elijah sniffling. The diagnosticians try to exude confidence, try and hold their chins high, but Baz’s eyes fill with tears.

And Casey will know it’s bad news.

She’s so far away from him.

He would do anything to trade places with her, even just to be in the same room as her and hold her and kiss her and tell her that he loves her and everything will be okay, but the glass windows that separate the living from the dying hold firm. Her face falls when her eyes meet his.

She swallows. “What is it?”

Ethan sighs deeply and runs a hand through his hair. Baz turns his head and swipes at his cheeks. Only June seems to have any level of composure.

“It’s a maitotoxin,” Ethan says. “One I’ve never seen before.” His voice gets quieter the more he explains.

Bryce finds himself gently shouldering himself forward, hand itching to touch the glass, to assure Casey that he’s there for her.

“We’ll find a way,” Ethan says. “We’ll fix this.”

Jackie lifts her chin. “You have the smartest diagnostic minds and the best residents at the hospital on this case. We’ll definitely find a cure with the nine of us working on it.”

“Make that more.” Aurora waves Tobias and a few other Mass Kenmore doctors forward. “I present you the best minds Mass Kenmore can offer.”

Bryce doesn’t hear much else, but he meets Aurora’s eyes, then Tobias’s, and prays that they can see what his voice fails to say. Thank you. Thank you for giving her another chance at life.

The diagnosticians wave goodbye to Casey and head back to the lab, but he stays by the window. He puts his hands in his white coat pocket, takes them out, and shakes them a little bit. When Casey tilts her head, studying him, he tries to force a smile. It won’t reach his eyes.

He clears his throat. “It’s all gonna be okay, Casey. I promise.” I pray. I pray, I promise. He shuffles closer. The glass is too damn thick.

She sniffles and presses her lips together. “You don’t have to be optimistic for my sake.” A stray tear falls down her cheek, and she reaches up to rub it away with her thumb.

Bryce sighs and licks his lips. His own eyes well with tears. This is harder than I thought it could be. She’s so small, and her body jerks with shivers. Her knees buckle, and she sways on her feet, but she refuses to move back to her bed. She stays with him, and he will stay with her, until death do them part.

“…I’m not,” he admits. “It’s for my sake. If I don’t stay optimistic —” he shakes his head ruefully, lifting his hand to the glass again, “— I’m gonna fucking lose it.” He breathes in shakily, past the point of caring about the unshed tears in his eyes. “I can’t let myself do that. Not yet.”

She steps forward and lifts both hands to the glass.

He presses his forehead to the window. “Not while there’s still hope,” he whispers.

“Bryce, I’m scared,” she whispers, her voice carrying through the glass. “I’m going to die tonight.”

His heart twinges. “What if I stayed with you for a while? Would that help? There’s another hazmat suit out here.” And he hates it, hates that he can only see her while wrapped in twenty pounds of plastic and completely unable to feel her skin, unable to kiss her, to press his forehead to hers. But it’s something, it would allow him to be with her, and he would cut off ten years of his life for the opportunity to be with her now.

She nods quickly. “Please stay with me tonight.”

Immediately, he suits up. Doesn’t give a damn whether or not he’s actually doing it right, but he saw June, Baz, and Ethan all do it before — twice, actually — and he’s itching to get in there and hold his girlfriend in his arms. As soon as he can, he steps through the decontamination tent, and envelops Casey in his arms.

She sighs in relief, her left arm tucked under his right and her right arm wrapped tightly around his neck. “Thank you,” she whispers, and he’s almost certain he can hear her tears dripping onto his hazmat suit.

He squeezes her tighter. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” If I could’ve done anything — maybe I should’ve stayed in Kyra’s surgery, maybe invited her to watch, gotten lunch with her — maybe…

There’s nothing more in the world he wants to do than kiss her, so he settles on pulling her as close to himself as he dares, with her lungs as weak as they are.

She shakes her head. “It’s not your fault.”

He nods. “I know. I know it’s not—it’s only Travis’s and maybe that shit senator’s. But I’m so sorry. I wish I could do more.”

Casey steps away from him and studies him.

Bryce clears his throat and forces his smile again. It comes a bit easier, now that he can hold her in his arms. “So, am I handsome? Or am I somehow even more handsome in this suit? Be honest and know that I only accept constructive criticism in the form of praise.” His heart hammers in his chest.

At the sound of her telltale giggle, he relaxes. “It’s not quite doing it for me, I’m not going to lie. Still handsome and still the best eye candy in the hospital, but I’m docking points because I can’t see your hair.”

He nods solemnly. “Fair. My hair is my best feature.” Casey giggles again, and instinctively, he reaches out to brush his fingers over her cheek. “Let’s try and get your mind off this. What’s your favorite thing?”

She twists her lips. “You,” she says so quietly that he’s not sure he heard her right.

“Yeah?” he asks, the first genuine smile gracing his lips since this morning.

She nods again. “Yeah.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. Not to make you feel like you’re not special, but I’m a lot of people’s reason for living.” Please keep living. Keep fighting. If for no other reason, then for me.

Her jaw drops and she gently shoves him. “No fair! You asked me my favorite thing, not my reason for living. In light of the new phrasing, I’m changing my answer to ‘pictures of cute animals.’”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Okay, fair. Even I can’t be mad at that.”

She smiles brightly, in deep contrast to how frail her body is. Reaching out, she brushes his helmet. “Gosh, you’re pretty.”

And he doesn’t know why that cripples him, why that brings the tears back into his chest, but his smile falls, and he bites back tears. For her sake. She can’t know how scared he is.

Her eyes widen. “What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?”

He shakes his head rapidly. “No.” He clears his throat. “I just…Case, I really am trying to stay positive. We both have to. But…but when I heard you were in danger, my heart stopped.” He holds his hand up to his stomach. “It dropped. I was so scared for you, Case. I was terrified, and I don’t—I’ve never been that scared before, and I pray to God I don’t have to be again.”

Casey nods, avoiding his eyes. She holds her left elbow in her hand, her free arm hanging limply at her side. “I know what you mean.”

Bryce squeezes her arm. “I called your parents.”

She sniffles, eyes flicking to his. “They’re visiting my brother in Oregon.”

“They said that. They’re gonna get here as soon as they can. Apparently, Logan’s also trying to make it up here, but they told me to tell you that it might be hard.”

“I wish I had my phone. Just so I could talk to them, y’know.” Her tears are flowing more freely. “To say goodbye.” She clears her throat and looks up at him. “I’m glad I got that with you, at least.”

He cups her face in his plastic gloved hands. Theoretically, he could chicken out right now. Could just tell her that she means a lot to him, more than she knows, but it’s her last night, and he would hate himself if he never told her. “I love you, Casey. More than you know, probably. And the idea of losing you…” his throat closes, a rock forming, so he shakes his head ruefully. He meets her eyes. “I love you so very much, Casey Grace Valentine. More than anything.”

Despite the saddened goodbye, the desperate reveal, her smile is genuine, and despite the plastic helmet on his head, she stands on her tiptoes and kisses the front of his mask. “I love you, too, Bryce Lahela. More than anything, and more than anyone.” Casey shuffles forward and presses her forehead to his chest. He wraps his arms around her. “And if tonight’s my last night on earth, then you’re the one I want to spend it with.”

He clears his throat, trying to avoid propping his chin on her head. It couldn’t be comfortable. “Well, damn, Casey. Talk about bittersweet.”

She steps back and twines her fingers in his. “So maybe we can just focus on the sweet part?”

Bryce nods. “You should get some rest.” He hates saying it, because as long as she’s awake, he knows she’s alive, and he can hear her voice, can share whispered I love yous between them, but her body is fighting to give her even the smallest chance, and she keeps swaying on her feet.

Nodding, she shuffles to the bed, but as soon as she reaches it, she turns to face him. “Would you hold me?”

His smile is watery. “I’d love to, Casey.” The setup is awkward, with the tiny hospital bed and his bulky hazmat suit, but they make it work, and he curls around her body, pulling her as close to himself as he can manage. If he closes his eyes, he thinks he can feel her heartbeat against his chest. But he can also hear it on the monitor, and right now, that’s the most beautiful sound in the world to him.

Well. Second, really, only to Casey’s voice.

She runs her fingers over his suit. “I wish I could feel your skin.”

He shifts, trying to assure her of their closeness. “You will.”

With her back to him, he can’t see her tears, but he can hear them in her voice and when she sniffles. “I wish I could kiss you.”

His heart shatters, and he hates, he despises how this might be her last night, and they won’t even share a last kiss. But she doesn’t need his anger or depression now, she needs assurance. She needs the unshakable Bryce Lahela, so he forces confidence into his voice and props himself up so she can hear him better. “Sorry, was I mumbling? You will, Casey. You’re going to get through this.”

She tugs him back to their original position, his arm draped tightly over her stomach. “Bryce, there’s not a cure for a maitotoxin. If I don’t die tonight, I die tomorrow. And—and I won’t be able to kiss you one last time, or feel your skin. I won’t be able to run my hands through your hair again or—or make love with you again or anything.” She chokes on a sob. “And that’s not to mention my roommates or my family. They’re downstairs, working on a cure that will probably come too late instead of saying goodbye.”

“Or they’re saving your life.”

“It will be too late!” she shouts. “I’m going to die, Bryce. You’re a surgeon. We’re both doctors, so you and I both know that I’m not walking out of this alive.”

He sighs deeply. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with hoping right now, Case. It’s all we have.”

Her shoulders shake. “I’m scared, Bryce. Just…tell me it’ll be okay.”

Bryce brushes her hair away from her neck. “It will be, Casey, I really believe that. Ethan and the others will come through.” He pulls her so close to him that the plastic probably does no good, but he couldn’t care less. “Until then,” he says, “just stay with me.”

She nods. “I love you. So much.”

He wishes he could kiss her. “I love you, too.”

***

He doesn’t sleep. His body wants to, of course, but the adrenaline still pulses through his veins, and the idea that if he closes his eyes, Casey might stop breathing and her heart might stop beating is too much for him to bear, so he keeps himself awake.

He prays, too. Not because he’s particularly religious, but if there’s one thing he has left, it’s hope, and he can’t see where God or the universe would hold it against him to hope, to pray. He doesn’t know who to pray to, really, so he just throws it out there and hopes something sticks. It has to. It has to.

Around five or six in the morning — Bryce can’t see the clock around all the plastic covering, but the sun is rising — Casey wakes up with a jerk, looks around wildly, catches his eye, and retches into the sick bag by her bed. He bites his lip and rubs her back soothingly. When the nausea stops, she leans back into his chest, blinking tiredly.

“I hate this,” she says. Her lips are dry.

With his plastic-covered hands, he smooths her hair away from her face. “Do you have a hair tie?”

She shakes her head, but there’s a small smile on her mouth. “Guess I didn’t die last night, after all.”

He squeezes her shoulder. “See? There’s still hope.”

The bags under her eyes have grown darker. Vomit crusts the corners of her mouth. She can’t stop shivering, and she keeps scratching her skin. Her voice is weak.

There’s still hope, he said, but she just keeps getting worse. He can hope and pray all he wants, but her death is fast-approaching, and if the other doctors can’t come through by this afternoon…

Ethan, Baz, and June walk into the room. Casey’s roommates crowd around the window, Sienna nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet. Jackie smiles, and Elijah reaches out to grip her hand. Tobias meets Ethan’s eye and nods once.

Bryce sits up immediately. Does that mean…?

Jackie can’t contain her glee. “We did it! We found a cure.”

Ethan nods slightly, a smile curling at his mouth. “At least, we hope so.”

Both Bryce and Casey furrow their brows. “You hope so?”

Tobias clears his throat. “We didn’t exactly have time to test it out.”

Sienna hooks a thumb in his direction. “But we administered it to Rafael. It—it might be too late for him, but…”

“—but he hasn’t shown any signs of getting worse,” Elijah chips in. He nods at Casey. “There’s hope. We think it’ll work.”

Casey hums. “What else do I have to lose?”

Ethan steps forward, syringe in hand. “If you would.”

Casey holds her arm out to him, but her body has clearly weakened overnight. Bryce cradles her against his chest, holding her arm still as Ethan prepares the injection. “How do we know if it works?”

Ethan shrugs, sliding the needle into her vein. “I’m assuming something similar as what has happened to Mr. Aveiro: no worsening of symptoms and hopefully even improvement. We’ll run some tests in a few hours, assuming you feel the same or better.” He steps back. “Dr. Lahela, if you would.”

Bryce’s eyes flash. “You honest to God think I’m leaving her here?”

June sighs. “You have to. The hazmat suit only has so much available oxygen, and you stretched it far beyond its limit already. We don’t want to have to admit you, too.”

He sets his jaw. “I’m willing to take that risk.”

Casey gently places her hand on his chest. “But I’m not. They’ll come get you if anything happens to me.” Her eyes seek out her friends and colleagues. “Right?”

They all nod. “I’ll send for Bryce personally,” Baz replies.

She squeezes his hand, and for a second, he thinks he can feel her skin. “Go,” she whispers. “I have a fighting chance now.”

***

“You need to get some sleep,” Jackie tells him, handing him a cup of coffee all the same.

Bryce takes it from her, mouthing his thanks, and lifts it to his lips. Across the room, Tobias shakes Ethan’s hand, clapping him on the shoulder. Aurora stands behind him, shifting her weight from foot to foot. When it looks like he’s about to leave, she hooks her thumb over her shoulder, and he nods.

“Sienna,” Aurora says, crossing the room, “you should get some sleep, too.”

Sienna wipes her eyes hastily. “Danny’s dead, Aurora.”

Aurora presses her lips together and rubs her back soothingly. “I’m so sorry, Sienna.”

Bryce nods, lowering his cup of coffee. “I’m sorry for your loss, Sienna.” He sighs, sets down his drink, and wraps her in a hug. “Truly, I’m so sorry.”

She sniffles and squeezes him tightly. “But Raf and Casey are still here. That’s good.” She steps back and forces a smile. “It makes it easier, I think.”

Aurora wraps an arm around her shoulder and guides her to the on-call room. Bryce sighs again and leans against the countertop, reaching behind him to grab his coffee.

Jackie crosses her arms. “So?”

He looks up. “So what?”

“You’re not going to get some sleep?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and knocks back what’s left in his cup. The coffee is lukewarm. “I need to check on Keiki and give her an update. And I know the Valentines are on their way, so I should get in contact with them, tell them Case is still alive. At least I have some good news for them.”

Jackie grabs his shoulders and steers him out of the break room. “And you’ll have more soon. We can’t confirm anything yet, and you need to rest.”

“Jackie, I —”

She stops and moves to stand in front of him. “You’re not the only person who cares about her.” She gestures vaguely around the hallway. “Why else do you think we stayed up all night to synthesize a cure? Why Aurora brought her colleagues from Mass Ken? Why Tobias and Ethan set aside their differences to work on this?” Jackie glances over her shoulder and leans closer. “Dude, Sienna was crushing hard on Danny, and he died, and she still continued to work on this cure to help Casey.”

He nods and bites his thumbnail. “No, I know. I know how close you all are, but—Jackie, she’s the love of my life.” It comes out easier now, now that Casey knows. “I can’t stand not knowing.”

“Well, you’re in the same boat as the rest of us. Text your sister and Casey’s family, give them an update, then get some rest. I’ll personally make sure Sienna knows about this, too.”

Bryce chokes out a watery laugh and holds his hands up in surrender. “I give up, you win.” He holds up his index finger in Jackie’s face. “But the moment we have something definitive on Casey, you come get me.”

Jackie sticks out her hand. “Deal.”

***

From: Bryce

Stayed w Case all night

Wore a hazmat suit, dw

Gonna still be at the hospital until we know more

How were you last night?

From: Pest

are you okay??? hows casey????

and dw about me

From: Bryce

I’m fine just a little tired

We found a cure?? We think?? We’re waiting to know more

Also I’m your guardian, I’m legally obligated to worry, how were you last night??

From: Pest

well get some rest ig

and thats good!!!! rooting for her (tell her i said hi)

alright fine it was a rough night but thats bc of you and casey and i was worried

From: Bryce

I will soon, just need to update the Valentines (same for telling Case you said hi)

Did you eat??

From: Pest

no i photosynthesized

From: Bryce

Dick

From: Pest

all that was in the fridge was ur chicken from hell and it was late so i asked mrs zimmerman for food

love that woman to death

she gave me lasagna and cookies

…

also i watched tv until late and slept in your bed lol

From: Bryce

Wow

I go through a crisis

Discover I’m in love with my dying girlfriend

And you steal my bed and insult my cooking

From: Pest

oh pls

you got food poisoning from it too

From: Bryce

Ughhhhhh

Just go to school, I’ll keep you updated on Casey

And don’t try and argue your way out of it, I can’t be responsible for you committing truancy

…

But depending on how she’s doing, I’ll try and get you to visit Casey asap

From: Pest

how can i concentrate in school when my favorite sibling is deathly ill

From: Bryce

Do you want me to tell Case that you tried to use her as an excuse to get out of school

Bc I will

From: Pest

fine!!!! getting ready

[middle finger emoji]

***

Two hands grip his shoulders, and he starts awake, looking around wildly, hands forming into a fist. His eyes land on an overjoyed Jackie, who’s bouncing up and down. “It worked! Bryce, it worked!”

He sits up straight. “Casey’s alright?”

Jackie nods quickly, eyes welling up with tears. “She’s alright! I mean, of course, she has to recover, but the maitotoxin’s not going to kill her.”

Bryce grins and springs out of bed. “I’ve gotta go see her!”

“What, you’re not gonna update her folks?”

He stops in his tracks at that, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “You know what, fair.” With one hand, he pushes his hair away from his face while he scrolls through his contacts for Mr. Valentine’s contact.

From: Bryce

Good news!! Casey’s improving!!! The cure the diagnostics team administered to her is working, and she should be on the road to recovery by the time you get here.

[Message not delivered!]

He groans. “They must be on the flight.” Shaking his head, he tucks his phone back into his pocket. “Doesn’t matter. I need to go see her.”

Jackie waves her hand. “Go see your girl, lover boy.”

Bryce sprints upstairs, breezing quickly past Harper and Takana. He can’t help the smile on his face, so when he catches Harper’s eye, she physically relaxes and gives him a nod. Tanaka stops him briefly to shake his hand and to congratulate him.

Normally, Bryce would prioritize this kind of conversation with Takana. It’s not just congratulating him that his girlfriend is still alive and hope is alive and well — after all, he did get through the most difficult part of Kyra’s surgery and essentially left Tanaka to close. His career could catapult with this conversation.

And it will. It can just wait a few minutes.

Bryce excuses himself and bounces on the balls of his feet while he waits for the elevator. Maybe he should text Keiki. She should be getting out of school soon. He glances at his watch. In twenty minutes, actually.

The elevator dings before he can fish his phone out of his pocket, so he slips inside, presses the button for the seventh floor, and taps his fingers against his thigh during the agonizingly long elevator ride. Once the elevator doors begin to slide open, he squeezes past them and sprints to her room.

Before he reaches her room, he slows to a stop and pushes his hand through his hair. If he cranes his neck, he can see her through the glass. She sits on her bed, swinging her legs back and forth, staring outside while biting the inside of her lip.

The glass. It separated the dying from the living, but now, it separates the living from each other.

He strides through the decontamination tent, knowing that there is absolutely no way that he can erase the smile off his face. Opening his arms wide, he locks eyes with Casey. “It worked!”

Her jaw drops and her eyes widen. She straightens.

Bryce lets out a watery laugh, brushing the tears away from his cheeks with his thumb. “I told you it was going to be okay. I told you —”

Casey streaks across the room, launching herself into his arms with such force that he stumbles backwards.

Immediately, he wraps his arms around her, pressing one hand to the small of her back to pull her closer. With his other hand, he cups the back of her neck. She tucks her face into the crook of his neck, and he can feel her tears dripping hot and fast against his neck.

He rests his chin on her shoulder. “Couldn’t wait for me to cross the room, huh?”

She shakes her head quickly. “No.” Stepping back, she grabs the front of his scrubs and pulls him into a dizzyingly deep kiss. His arms wrap around her to hold her close.

When they finally break apart, he rests his forehead against hers. She lifts her hand to brush her fingers across his cheeks. “I love you,” he says.

Casey stands on her tiptoes, capturing his mouth in hers again. “I love you, too.”

Bryce cups her face in his hands and kisses her once, twice, three times. “Thank you,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut.

She wraps one arm around his neck, keeping one hand on his cheek. “For what?”

He kisses her forehead. “For being alive.”

#bryce lahela #casey valentine #open heart choices #open heart fic #my fic #bryce x mc #bryce x casey #open heart: second year #2.11 #mostly canon compliant

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angiefsutton · 9 days

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Quantum Leap (1989) Re-watch

So, now that I've fallen headfirst back into QL slash, I decided to give the show a re-watch. Probably the last time I watched it was in 2001 or so, the LAST time I was obsessed with slash.

Figured I'd liveblog some of my thoughts. I'll be using the tag "#Quantum Leap Re-Watch" if you want to follow along.

Episode 1 & 2: Genesis part 1 & 2 / the pilot episode

And here we go....

Al's first appearance: "I'm a lot friendlier than HE is." And I didn't fall in love with him right away WHY?

I remember reading back in 2000 some meta about how many similarities Sam has with Tom Stratton, and fanoning it that GTFW was making that first leap 'easy' (both testing new things, best friend who's a hound dog, etc.).

Poor Sam - while I know he goes through a hell of a lot worse later ("Shock Theater" anyone?), I can't help but feel for him as he tries to figure out what's going on. (best bit: "Oh, I gotta couple of them." with regards to 'new' ideas)

And THERE'S that Mike Post music we all know and love. (Sounds a lot like his Law & Order theme.)

Ah - shirtless Scott Bakula RIGHT from the get go. Yay!

"You'll snap back faster than a pimp's suspenders." Oh, Al - promise me you'll never change!

huh - Al being an astronaut was in the pilot? Could've sworn that wasn't put in until "The Wrong Stuff".

God the ADR is horrible in this episode.

miniskirts and panty hose and streaking - obviously written before they decided to make Sam a goody two-shoes. ;-) (also feeds the fanon that Al started doing it specifically to get Sam to 'behave' himself)

Also - he apparently remembered a LOT here? (Or maybe Al helped him fill it out? <G>)

Sam trying to remember his last name so he can call his dad, who is alive: my dad died of lung cancer in 1986 (when I was 12), and so this scene always hits me hard. If I could time travel, that's what I'd want to do.

Late because of a Laker's game and meeting Martha? Al, Al, Al....

I remember noting this LAST time I re-watched: Al says, "I'd trade my ex-wife for any wreck they got." SINGULAR ex-wife. I know this is Bellisario just being Bellisario (canon? what canon?), but the very next episode is where we run into Donna: I know I wrote that that was a timeline change in one of my stories. (Sam getting together with Donna causes Al to get four more ex-wives <g>.)

Ah - the unofficial theme song of the show: "Que sera, sera".

God, I love how Scott Bakula kisses. He just puts his whole body into it, doesn't he.

While we do get an 'Oh boy' when he sees a pregnant wife, he does NOT say it when he leaps into the baseball player. Curious when that becomes a 'thing we do'.

Huh - we get an 'animals can see Sam as Sam and Al' in this first two episodes.

Al in that silver jacket. Lord have mercy. And our first 'Al sneaking up on Sam'!

"No wonder they're in the cellar: they've got as much enthusiasm as a $10 hooker." God bless you, Al Calavicci. And GOOSHIE made Ziggy print out X-rated pictures?

And the first 'let's go to the bathroom to talk'. Huzzah!

"Seems like someone wanted both Tom and Samantha to survive." - the dual meaning of that when you know the whole show. :-)

"I could be bouncing about forever." / "Nobody lives forever." - adds to the fanon I remember hearing that Sam died in the Imaging Chamber (which is why he's able to leap, because he now knows the 'end' of his life for the string theory) and is why he can never leap home.

Ziggy's 'afraid to print it out' - huh, no voice yet.

Yay - magnafoozled! One of my favorite words from this show.

"You hold six doctorates" - ah, a true canon moment.

Oh, Al looks so heartbroken that Sam can't remember his last name.

"I've named my boy Sam." - not my youngest boy. Tom doesn't exist in this timeline! :-) (Katie does, though. Huh.)

Damn, both Scott and Dean are phenomenal in this. No wonder they won so many awards.

Oh my God - the look they share when Sam comes back after calling his dad. MY HEART.

Ah, Scott Bakula's butt in baseball pants. Can life get any better? ;-)

And the first 'homage' - this one to The Natural.

Had to look this up (don't know much about baseball prior to the '80s <g>): 'Al says "You know who that kid kind of looks like out there?" According to the script, it's supposed to be Tom Seaver, although at this point in time, Seaver is playing for the New York Mets.'

And that's episode 1 & 2. You know, considering this was 1989, it holds up surprisingly well. It's got a good hook, the acting (no surprise) is amazing, and Bellisario does a good job of balancing out 'getting the premise of the show' with 'having an actual plot happen'.

#Quantum Leap Re-Watch #Quantum Leap (1989)#Quantum Leap #QL #Genesis #Angie's thoughts

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rizaposting · 9 months

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10 5 good things/things I'm proud of this year

Thank you to @aicasey for tagging me! ;w; I shortened it to 5 because hhhuuuuuuu it's been a year lmao

I successfully moved out of my apartment on my own. With the exception of one of my friends coming to help me move boxes down the stairs to a uhaul box for a few hours, I was completely on my own to plan, decide what I was going to do with my stuff, pack everything up, clean, get a permit, and all the other shlock that accompanies moving. It was extremely annoying and stressful but I did it! And I somehow got my full security deposit back so hell yeah.

Hot! Girl! Summer!!! Which is what me and my dear friends call it when I drive down to see them (regardless of gender or the time of year). We got together three times this past year! Which is great because we lived at minimum 4 hours apart but after I moved I DID drive 8 hours to see them so we could have Hot Girl Halloween and watch the FNAF movie together. I love them both so much :] I love them so much I would brave the Jersey Turnpike for them, even.

Over the summer I got into Berserk. I started by watching the 97 anime and was so enthralled that I read all 373 chapters that were available at the time in two weeks. I'd never had two hyperfixations at the same time before (FMA and Berserk) and I think it accelerated the speed at which my cells die. Berserk is currently on a kind of hiatus due to the circumstances of its production, so the hyperfixation has died down a lot, but I still cry and wail about Casca whenever I think of her on a regular basis, I love her so much. I've never binged through something so long in such a short period of time before hahaha.

Earlier this year, my beloved dnd group finished our first campaign! We started in ~February 2019 and ended ~Feb/March 2023 so it was almost exactly four years. It's the first long campaign I've ever finished, and it was so emotional and fulfilling and I LOVE those characters and the world so much!!! My character was Osirah Dirncath, a dragonborn paladin shunned from her templar order and exiled to what she was told was a war-torn wasteland, only to find out she'd been fed propaganda her whole life and the world outside her home was indeed thriving and beautiful and worth saving. She was a slippery lesbian lizard with crippling Catholic guilt who stayed kind and hopeful no matter what. She had to sacrifice her own patron god to kill The Devil, From Bible. She fell in love with our group's monk, Compassion, and in the epilogue they get married and have a baby together named "Mercy".

Maybe it's a bit of a cop out BUT my last one is going to be: producing more insane Rizaposting content (and art and writing!) and reaching out to other people who have similar brainworms. I had been putting off getting back onto tumblr, but it has been so neat getting to talk to more people. I'm always so self-conscious about things so it's nice to just... embrace being weird and silly and unwell, and just have fun with my creative endeavors. I'm looking forward to talking to more people and drawing more and writing more and posting more riza-ramblings in the new year. Gotta feed them leeches, babygirl!

This year was rather uneventful but still hard for me, mentally. It's nice to try to pull some positives from it haha. I'm not even going to say anything that could possibly jinx 2024, so all I'll say is that I hope everyone has a safe and happy new year's. We never do anything special, so I'll just be vibing with a cheap bottle of fruit wine.

I'm a bit late getting around to this, so I don't want to tag anyone and have them feel obligated to do anything last minute. If you've read this far and want to do it, I'm officially tagging you!!!

#crystal convos #tag meme #happy new year everyone thank you all for being so kind to me :]

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narcolini · 1 year

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in his shadow - pt. 4

ez reyes x oc: ava gomez (& bonus angel), 3072 words

for day 26 of whumpril, using alternative prompt: words that can’t be taken back

a/n: ahh i love making drama for the sake of drama, it’s so good for the soul

tagging: @cositapreciosa @drabbles-mc (let me know if u want to be tagged!)

previous part here

It’s been a week, well, a weekend and a day, and EZ still hasn’t heard from Ava. The last he saw of her, she was leaving the trailer, hair a mess, jacket and near-empty tequila bottle stuffed into her bag. It’d been good. Real fucking good. Nice, like they were dating, or something. Like there was a genuine connection between them. And then, nothing.

No text, no call.

He’s trying to be chilled about it. No biggie, because they aren’t dating, are they? They barely even know each other. Well, that’s a lie, even if it does make him feel better to think it. They’d gotten close fast enough to feel like he’s known her as long as the rest of the guys have. Longer, even. Maybe. He knows things she’s never told them. Heard the shit that goes on behind that doe-eyed expression, that endless look of kindness. It sits in her features even when she’s swearing, or chatting shit with liquor on her breath. Just endless, endless, kindness. Like she’d been drawn up by Disney or some shit.

‘The fuck you smiling about?’ Angel asks, lips tweaking like he’s in on it, catching his brother’s attention.

They’re parked up outside the sandwich place they can’t get enough of, waiting for the food coma to settle before they leave again. Angel’s reclined on his bike, head against the handle bars, EZ’s standing on the sidewalk, shoulder to the nearest pole.

‘Nothing.’ EZ shrugs. ‘Just thinking.’

‘Bout what?’

‘You want a list or something? Stuff, things.’

Angel slides the shades up from his face, into his hair. He’s scrutinising him like he knows something, or is about to. Like he can read the thoughts in EZ’s head. ‘Did you get laid?’ he asks, uncertain of his guess until he sees EZ’s chin dip in response. ‘Ho—ly fuck. Little bro finally got his dick wet.’

‘Shut up, man.’

‘Who’s the lucky princess?’ He smirks. ‘I know her?’

EZ’s head shakes. He hates when Angel’s like this, hates even more when he’s right about it too. ‘I’m not telling you when you’re being a dick about it.’

He sits up, boots planting on the ground either side of his bike. ‘Shit, it’s that serious? Why am I only just hearing about it now?’

How does he answer that? Logically, he know’s it not serious, not by their standards. Not by Ava’s either, probably. But he has to physically stop himself from saying yes, because that’s the answer that tries to fly out. Yeah, kinda. Yeah, I hope so.

‘I don’t know,’ he says instead. ‘Maybe.’

‘Maybe?’ Angel’s teetering on a laugh, pure glee at his brothers uncertainty sitting behind his eyes. He could do this for hours. ‘You gotta give me a name, Romeo. Who’s got you all caught up like this?’

EZ sighs. He’s got two options, a long death, drawn out and real fucking annoying, or the short, merciful one. Sure to sting, but quicker to fade. ‘Well,’ he starts, hanging his thumbs in his jean pockets, ‘me and Ava have kind of…’

‘Kind of…’ Angel winds his head in EZ’s vision, trying to lure the rest of it out of him. ‘Started a bookclub, or what? The fuck is it, bro?’

‘We’ve been hanging out.’

He squints, then his eyes go wide. ‘Oh, come on, Ezekiel.’

‘There it is.’ He shouldn’t have said anything. Should’ve lied and said he was smiling about his fucking sandwich.

‘You slept with her?’ Angel’s voice pitches up, like he can’t believe it. ‘Damn, bro, it’s like you fucking hate happiness. My God.’

He’s shaking his head at him, but EZ’s no idea why. Honestly, he hasn’t a fucking clue. What was so bad about it? They’re both adults, they’re both single. He know’s Ava’s baggage as well as anyone, better even, than Angel himself. If anything, spending time with her had made him happier than he’s been in years. The first real good thing to happen since getting out.

‘The fuck does that mean, Angel?’

He ignores the question, muttering to himself, as he toys with the helmet in his lap. ‘That’s so fucked up, man.’

‘Why is it?’ EZ's back straightens, a defensive response. He’s starting to get irritated. ‘It was her idea.’

‘Yeah,’ Angel nods, ‘and now you’re all up in your feelings, falling in love with her, while she’s out, acting all new and sexy and shit, thanks to your dumbass self.’

‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘What’s wrong with…’ He scoffs, looking up again. ‘You realise she’s about to go out and get a man that isn’t in a fucking MC now? Probably on Tinder already. You’re a rebound, boy-scout.’

EZ bristles, jaw clenching. He tries to shake it off afterwards, like Angel’s words are nothing at all, just noise without weight. It isn’t convincing, even he can tell that. He’s got a face like a scolded child. ‘You don’t know that,’ he says.

‘Don’t I?’ Angel laughs. ‘Been in this club way fucking longer than you, and I ain’t never seen a widow go for a Mayan twice.’

He’s right, EZ knows that. Even though he’s not seen it himself, he can recognise why. One death would put you off for good, but it isn’t like that, is it? Ava hadn’t used him as the jumping point for the return of her love life. Wouldn’t mess him about for the sake of messing about. And it wasn’t like he was in love with her, or falling, even. They were just hanging out. It was fun, mutually. It still is. It can be as simple as that, no matter what Angel puts into his head.

‘You spoken to her since?’ Angel asks.

He doesn’t answer, which says all Angel needs to hear. Tutting, laughing, head shaking like EZ is utterly clueless.

‘You’re full of shit, Angel,’ he snarks, pulling his own helmet from the seat of his bike. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Yeah, cause you’re the expert on women.’

I know her, he wants to say, clicking the strap under his chin. I know her, and you don’t, even with all the years you had to get there. Maybe it was rebound, maybe he’s the rebound, but so what, right? That doesn’t mean he’s fucked up, or ruined whatever they’d started. Ava had wanted someone to treat her like a normal fucking woman, and he’d done that, that’s all.

That’s all, isn’t it?

‘There’s someone out front for you, Ava.’

‘Really?’ She looks up from her work, hand mid-wipe over the leather seat. ‘I’ve not booked anyone in for the afternoon.’

Her colleague shrugs, not lingering long enough to explain beyond, ‘He said he’s here to see you.’

She only has a handful of male clients—eyebrows, botox, lip-filler—but none of them are due anytime soon. If one of them’s back already, then it can only be a bad thing. A complaint, maybe, a mistake on her part. God. She hates dealing with that. The guilt over it, no matter how small, is enough to knock her confidence for weeks. To make her doubt her qualifications entirely. She chucks the cloth on the side, peeling the gloves from her hands to toss them in the trash on the way past. It’ll be okay, really, she doesn’t have any clients that would hold it against her. I mean, she’s an aesthetician, not a robot. Mistakes happen. Bodies react in different ways, even if you’ve had the treatment before.

She rounds the corner, into the small shop front that acts as a greeting desk and waiting room all in one, and finds it’s not a client at all. It’s EZ, full leathers and helmet, standing dark against the blinding pink of the walls.

‘Oh,’ she can’t help but feel relieved, ‘it’s you.’

He smiles, looking shy from her reaction. ‘Yeah, hey.’

‘D’you need something?’ She pauses behind the desk, waiting as he dawdles forward. It’s obvious he isn’t comfortable here. He looks seconds from sprinting out the door, knocking fake palms trees and magazine stands on his way. ‘Did you call me?’

‘Nah, I figured I’d just stop buy. Speak to you in person.’ He puts his elbow on the desk in front of her, leaning like he’s comfortable. Or trying to be. ‘You got a minute?’

She has an entire afternoon, technically, but she also has a shit load of paperwork to catch up on. Expenses to list, lash in-fills to count. ‘Sure, I got a window.’ An hour, for him, is nothing.

She nods toward the back, inviting him to follow. They could talk here, sure, but he looks like he wants privacy. And, well, she doesn’t really want her colleagues to see them chatting in the first place. She’d got this job after Seb had died, unable to go back to her last one. So the shock of a man in a kutte, lingering in the middle of the shop, might send a gossip shockwave strong enough to unsettle her peace forever. The questions would never stop—and God knows, she doesn’t have the patience for that.

‘You been good?’ he asks, walking behind her.

‘Yeah, busy.’

‘Though I might’ve heard from you.’

She lets him into her room, and shuts the door behind. He looks just as out of place here, standing by the reclining seat, under the white lights, as he did out front. ‘I know,’ she sighs, ‘I haven’t had a minute to stop.’

He nods but doesn’t look convinced. It’s not like she’s lying, not like she has any reason too. They’d made up, she thought, more than made up. The last time they hung out, they’d ended the day on a high she’d never even imagined. Swollen lips, fresh spirit, an electricity under her skin that she’d forgotten the feeling of. She didn’t think they had any more catching up to do. Let’s call it even, he said, and then sweeten the deal on top of it.

‘Is something the matter?’ she asks, because he clearly isn’t going to start himself. He’s standing like he’s scared to move, one thigh against the leg-rest.

‘Nah.’ His head shakes, brow pinching. ‘Not really.’

‘But?’

He sighs, settling his hands on the edges of his cut, fists over his chest. ‘Honestly, Angel got in my head about something,’ he confesses. ‘Thought I could talk to you about it.’

Now it’s her turn to frown, because she never got the impression Angel had the ability. EZ’s the brainy one, the logical one. Angel surely had no way of twisting his thoughts away from himself.

‘Oh boy.’ She lets out a breath, moving to lean against the nearest counter. ‘Should I be worried?’

He smiles slightly, just enough to put it into the creases of his eyes. ‘Depends,’ he says, ‘on whether I’m a rebound or not.’

‘What?’

‘Angel thinks you’ve, I don’t know. Shit.’ He sighs. ‘Can we start that again?’

‘A rebound?’ How could he be, how could he or Angel even think that? For starters, it’s been three fucking years since Sebastian died. If he was a rebound, it was less of a bounce and more like a delayed crack, a skimmed stone that made one fucking ripple, way out into the bay. ‘As in, what? I used you to make myself feel better?’

He’s exhaling through his teeth, rubbing the back of his head. ‘That came out wrong, was trying to make a dumb joke, lighten the mood. Sorry.’

But it came from somewhere, out his lips like he’d been wondering it his whole way here. ‘No, go on. What did Angel think?’

‘You don’t want to know.’

‘Well someone’s gonna have to explain that rebound line, EZ.’

He looks like he wants the ground to eat him, whole and scrambling, but he carries on. To his credit, he carries on. ‘He thinks us sleeping together was a mistake.’

She doesn’t comment on the fact that telling Angel in the first place, is the real mistake, but from the looks of him he’s knows it already. Like he regrets it enough to make her overlook it, focusing on the next problem. ‘And that matters because…?'

‘Like I said, he got in my head about it.’

‘How?’

‘How what?’

‘How did he get in your fucking head?’ she stresses, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. They’re parroting each others words like they’re speaking a different language. ‘Angel thinks a lot of dumb shit, and you never take notice of that. Why does it matter now?’

Why is it any of his business? How can something like that even be a mistake, when it’s just fun, just two people enjoying themselves. If Angel’s said she’s using EZ as a rebound, to propel herself forward in some way, why would he care, why would he—

‘Oh my god,’ she breathes, ‘you believe him, don’t you? You think I’m using you?’

‘What?’ His face scrunches, disgust showing in the kiss of his teeth. ‘No, course not.’

‘Well, you believe something, EZ. What the fuck is it? A rebound or a mistake?’

‘Neither.’ His voice is sharper now, words hardening into annoyance. ‘I just want to know what the fuck the plan is from here,’ he says. ‘Cause, you know, I’ve not heard from you at all since it happened.’

‘So, naturally, I have to have been using you?’

If she’d known he’d be this concerned, this paranoid about five days of quiet, she’d have never bothered. Honestly, she’d have never let it get past kissing in the first place. Some people can’t do just sex—Hell, she used to be one of them—if she’d known that was the case with him, she’d have stopped that train long ago. Saved them both the stress.

‘You know,’ he says carefully, like he’s holding something back, ‘you know, I wouldn’t think that.’

She flaps her arms up. ‘You near enough said it yourself, EZ. The fuck am I meant to do? Read minds?’

He turns away, just for a moment, to take a breath big enough to lift his shoulders. She watches them go up, down, up again. When he’s facing her afterwards, he looks calmer. Not believably so, but in the conscious, put on like a mask, way. He’s trying, at least. She appreciates that, as much as it does nothing for the sourness in her stomach. The quiet anger beneath her ribcage.

‘Look, I just, really didn’t know what the fuck to think, okay?’

She nods. Carry on, keep digging.

‘Angel said all this shit, and I hadn’t heard from you.’ His voice lowers a fraction. ‘And I know the stuff with Seb is always gonna be there.’

‘Make your point, EZ.’ She tries to sound commanding, but it comes out too quiet, almost like a plea. The mention of Sebastian now, right now, in relation to whatever she’s started between them, is the last thing either of them need. It doesn’t help his argument in the way he thinks it does.

‘I don’t care,’ he says, ‘if this goes no where. I don’t care if we never fucking touch each other again.’ He’s closer now, eyes intense on hers. ‘But if your plan is to avoid me forever—’

She cuts him off. ‘When have I said that?’

He waits, searching her expression.

‘I’ve been busy,’ she says, for what feels like the hundredth time, true or not. ‘I didn’t think sex came with a contract, y’know? One fuck equals three texts a day.’

He laughs, but it’s dry as anything, stripped of all humour. ‘Come on, Ava. If you don’t wanna talk like adults, I don’t know why I’m even here.’

‘Yeah, me and you both.’ This wasn’t even an issue before Angel had spoken to him, wouldn’t be something worth talking about at all, if she’d just been allowed to come back to him in her time. Of her own accord. ‘I had no intentions of blowing you off, EZ,’ she says, putting it like an insult somehow. Too highly strung to use it as the mediator she intended it to be. ‘If anything, I was really fucking happy with, y’know, whatever we’ve got going on.’

It still works, though. Words tight, or not, they land all the same, softening EZ’s shoulders. Putting a lighter breath into his throat.

‘Yeah, sure,’ she continues, ‘I’m not planning on having a relationship any time soon—but that doesn’t mean I’m using you.’

‘I know.’

‘I wouldn’t do that.’

He sighs, repeating it. ‘I know.’

‘I should’ve text you,’ she admits. ‘But I didn’t think you’d be taking advice from Angel, of all people.’

He catches the slight smile she’s offering, doubling it himself, and partnering it with a half-laugh. ‘Shit,’ he says, ‘I might kill him, actually. Think that’s probably the best solution.’

‘That or sewing his mouth shut.’

He snorts, head twitching sideways with he force of it. ‘That’d solve half my fucking problems in one.’

‘Yeah,’ she agrees, ‘me too.’ Someone should’ve thought of that sooner. ‘So, are we good? No pressure and no panic either, right?’

He doesn’t want it to be just sex, doesn’t want that to signal the end of them hanging out at all, but she equally doesn’t want it to be a promise of anything more. If he can’t meet her in the middle, then a clean break is all they have left. Back to how it was, with her as the widow, and him as the prospect. Nothing more, nothing less. Two people with one foot in the ring.

But he nods, and she sighs like the alternative would’ve made her collapse.

‘I really gotta stop saying shit without thinking,’ he says, smiling faintly.

She mirrors him. ‘True, but I have to stop saying nothing at all. Keep forgetting you you aren’t as old and fucked up as me.’

‘Woah,’ he frowns, ‘old? Come on, you got at least ten years before retirement.’

She laughs, too caught off guard to be offended. She’s got six years on him, max, but it’s not worth fighting over it now. ‘I like how you’re fine with the fucked up part.’

‘Oh, you’re definitely wrong there too. Fucked up beyond imagination, really.’

‘Mhm,’ she nods, matching his tease, ‘keep going. Your chances of never touching me again are really starting to sky-rocket.’

#ez reyes x ofc #ezekiel reyes #mayans mc fanfic #whumpril2023 #ez reyes fanfiction #2fic returns!!! im all caught up #<3

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tklyhcs · 6 months

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@marysixnumbers AH U CHANGED YOUR NAME here!!!!!!! i tag you in our wonderful collab here

mostlyticklestbh submitted:

here’s a few lee!sett thoughts:

-his feet are pretty bad! skittering nails over his soles, or using a hairbrush on them, is the best way to get him there. it’s hard to do because of how much he kicks when he gets tickled, but two or three of his bandmates holding his legs down means he’s not going anywhere

-the sensitivity of his ears is an open secret to the band’s makeup department. it’s hard for any of them to resist flitting a fluffy makeup brush over his ears for a second, getting a few giggles, or a snort if they’re lucky. he’ll gently push them away and mutter “quit it” or “lay off the ears!”, bashful grin on his face

-raspberries kill him, especially if multiple people are tickling him at the same time - they can raspberry him in succession without any time in between. which drives him wild, they already tickle so much and two (or more) in a row, without any time to recover, has him cackling, fully weak with laughter. it’s worst when k'sante does it because his facial hair tickles too

-phel knows sett’s worst tickle spots better than any of the other bandmates, usually because he put a hand in the wrong place while cuddling/giving a massage/etc. ezreal finds out about this and pratically begs phel to tell him so he can finally win a tickle fight with sett (he just pins ez down and goes for his ribcage) but phel doesn’t spill. oh well, rip ez. and rip sett because phel knows exactly the best way to destroy him with tickles - to have him howling with laughter sweat sticking his hair to his forehead, not even having enough breath to beg for mercy. he doesn’t use that power very often, thankfully for sett

-this isn’t a separate headcanon but i love the idea of the rest of the band ganging up on him! no spot is safe, but there’s always someone tickling his belly - tracing abs, spidering over his stomach, digging into his sides

ANSWERING UNDER READ MORE BECAUSE AUUGHH HOLY SHIT ❤❤❤❤❤🔥🔥🔥🔥

okay okAY all my thoughts under cut because i am going to Explode thanks i have many things to say and by god i have been blessed because i love bullying him (nicely i promise) sorry this was late but during my mini absence i got to read these over and over (･ω･)💚

first, YES YES about the kicking he's a powerful guy and the second those nails even brush his ankle he kicks out with a yelp!! i have a hc that phel bullies them by always sticking his cold hands and feet under the rest of them when it's cold and they're unsuspecting and watching a movie and sett makes the mistake of stealing this move and gets his ass handed to him. he decides haha i'm gonna try this :) and the next thing he knows they are fighting back and he YELLS and they gotta pause the movie because he's TOO LOUD. he like, snakes his leg under a few bandmates to get to phel first of all, and that was his first mistake because he can't kick under that many people. he does dumb things ok!!!! and phel makes this choking laugh noise and GRABS SETT'S ANKLE LOL and he rakes his nails down his arch. the very hard scraping doesn't hurt him at all he's got thick skin but man does it tickle instead. pff imagine them tryna watch a movie and are interrupted by "AGH FUCK" a man facing the consequences of his actions. and the rest of them are also losers mind you, so now it's a free for all but sett is a popular target so they don't mind just sitting back on his calf and letting phel do the work. they're like rolls eyes comedically sett shut up we tryna watch the movie 🙄🙄 and he's like NOBODY IS GONNA HELP????

AUU i love ear tickles and he has the big fluffy ones that is SO much fun to think about. and arghhh not being able to sit still for makeup anyways (i just know he can barely sit and do nothing so he's always tapping his foot or bouncing his leg) so when someone brushes em he's like HEY i KNOW those don't need makeup so y'all are bullying me. and i bet he's sorta sensitive when getting to his chin too. like bro we're just doing some extra contour is all, stay still! n he hums and taps his foot a lil faster. he's got a goofy smile on his face and tries to focus on said humming, trying to remember the song's rhythm but the brush swipes fast under his chin, faster than he can process, and he does snort (like you saaaaaid)

and about the raspberries.. that's so good because that's certainly his favorite weapon of all time imo and we love a dude who can't take what he dishes out. he uses raspberries liberally, no one's stomach nor necks are safe. he finds it more intimate than most tactics and that connection is lowkey important to him! holding someone close in a hug is his fav. plus that's the whole point for him to have fun obvs! and giving out raspberries tend to give him only the best and most electric reactions. though now, that just means he's on the top everyone's shit list with that exact tactic being his demise. but ohh my god literally no breaks must have him SOBBING in laughter (in the best way of course) and honestly it reminds him a lot of his mom!! the lungs on that woman were very impressive.

also side note k'sante takes pride in his raspberries being the best he's like cracks knuckles, heh.. move aside amateurs what a loser

AWH ez begging phel to tell omg.. phel likes keeping his info all for himself! phel amongst the rest of them having a tickle fight to be strangely methodical with sett, he's a pro! he secretly likes being a little troublemaker so that's so in character for him. i bet he uses his secret knowledge at given times, for example if he's trying to wake sett up from one of his cat naps, he goes soft by rolling an ear between his index and thumb. but during a free for all he's going for that tummy of his. aaaand if he wants reciprocation, he'll be cheeky and playful!

sorry i was late with this!! i def gotta talk about the ask you sent about kayn too i'm CRAZY about that one too omgggmgg

#heartsteel #my post #ask #living situations have changed n stuff irl so shit's been crazy!

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nasuversekinkmeme · 1 year

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Weekly roundups: prompts

Tsukihime

Smut, I want that anemic twink Shiki spitroasted by Arcueid and Ciel in some odd competitive threesome thing the two got going on

Show mercy on my soul. Femboy Akiha.

Fate/Stay Night

FGO

Smut, For as much as they want her 'spear', I think Morgan should introduce Gudako and Da Vinci to it-- that is, can we have her cock vore the two of them?

Smut, incest, Karna and Vritra team up to edge and overstim Arjuna until he cries

jeanne gets some well deserved karma for her big sister beam brainwashing .

Yknow how Nobukatsu gloats over the REAL Nobunaga saying he is nothing like his as he lays dying from the poison he gave him? Something similar but this time Mitsuhide is the target and he made sure the poison was just right that it would take a very long time for him to die as he watches Or he just stabs the guy I dunno Nobukatsu deserves to kill more people

Morgan is Bored and demands carnival rides be built in Fae Britain. Entertainment ensues.

Noncon, incest, Summer Avatoria having a soft fulfilling romance with Muramasa as people who are tied by fate thrice over. Meanwhile Summer Castoria would LOVE to stop waking up filled with cum from a man she considers ber grandfather. The downsides of sharing a body you know how it is (feel free to play it as lighthearted or fucked up as you wish)

Asclepius becomes a therapist because dear God do some of these servants (and staff) need help and somebody's gotta be the counselor.

Noncon, Elaine of Carbonek, the raging bitch who raped Lancelot and mother of Galahad, is summoned. If you thought Galahad resented his FATHER, y’all ain’t seen nothing yet. Mash has to be physically restrained when Elaine refers to her as “Junior.” (Technically, Galahad would be Galahad Jr, if Lancelot ever went by his birth name. I am an Arthuriana nerd.)

Emiya realizes that Ritsuka mission are becoming too dangerous, so he locks himself there with her, she can left whenever she wants, as long as she is able to do a simple task, with all the knowledge and weapons she gathered from her servants she must kill him, proving she has become strong enough to be the protector of humanity

Salieri gets a Summer form, where instead of being the amalgamation of the rumours of who killed Mozart, he's the amalgamation of the myths of the Maenads who tore Orpheus apart.

First Hassan and Shiki killing increasingly improbable and abstract things as a friendly contest. Escalating from “the tension in the room” to Barghest’s desire to eat her loved ones” to “Artoria’s resentment of Mordred” to “Wednesdays.”

Continuation of the Grand Carnival joke: Atalanta has to marry Kingprotea, BB is in charge of organizing wedding and the rest of the Sakura Five are bridesmaids aka have to make sure Atalanta doesn't escape.

Blackbeard, Absolute Disgusting Degenerate that he is, is well aware that his kink is not everyone else's kink, and so after finding some improperly tagged Smut or Hentai, decides to make a video about the importance of tagging, what it means, and how to do it, because tagging your shit properly means that everyone can enjoy themselves in peace, so long as they use the blacklist. (This just kinda came to me TBH, Cause Blackbeard just kinda feels like he'd take proper tagging very seriously given everything about him.)

Fun fact: "thou" and "thy" and such were actually the informal register - "you" and "your" were the fancy, polite terms. Therefore, someone should write a fic of First Hassan trying to seem hip and chill and failing catastrophically because his understanding of what counts is hundreds of years out of date.

UDK Barghest gets hired to Put out a Fire (Read: Help Melusine with her Draconic Heat). Whether it goes full smut or if it goes in a comedic non sexy route is up to the author

Smut, Yu Mei-Ren has Hella Gay Sex with her Summer Variant. (Not NTR, though I'm not sure who all would consider it such anyway since its self on self.)

One of the Draconic/Lizard Servants installs a heat lamp in their room, because if you've got a tech wizard who will do anything for you, why not? After approximately 10-ish seconds of "why didn't I think of this before" from all the other Dragon-type servants, everyone immediately rushes to said room. Ensue dogpile of like, 20 lizard people (including Oberon and Rasputin for some reason??? gotta love traits) whether this is horny or not is up to the writer.

Smut, On their big day, a bride is stressed about the whole event and is this close to calling it quits. Habetrot can't have this so obviously there's one solution: cocksleeve time!

Barghest is openly lamenting in the hallway about how she can never be close to master or anyone else she loves bc of her bestiary nature and how she wishes she could keep herself in check. Scathach hears this and goes "Say no more" and puts her in a collar leash and muzzle. She's trained dogs before

Gudako tries her hardest to be Titania for Oberon. Oberon has Opinions about this. (I'll leave it to the prompt filler if these opinions are Positive, Negative, or Mixed.)

What started as a tiny fight "for charity" between Hektor and Achilles soon turns brutal as Achilles starts to truly want to kill Hektor. Paris, Manricardo, Alexander, and even Penth try to step in to stop him

Some asshole tries to threaten Guda only for them to reply and I quote "I'm not scared of Death, we have Tea on the weekends" Smash cut to them actually having tea with King Hassan, Eresh and Shiki. Whether Guda got hurt or not by the threatener ill leave up to the author.

How did Mel get access to Nemos aircraft carrier? Mysteriously kiss-covered Nemos refuse to answer (Note: all of em are adults)

Fun fact: Sastoria's NP is most effective against Summer Hokusai as she is both Chaotic, Divine, and a Threat to Humanity. Sooooo one-sided jealousy where Sastoria hates Saber Hokusai and Hokusai can't figure out why

Because I don't think we'll see him this summer. What summer side adventure is Kadoc doing? Who with him is you to the author.

Melusine's dragon nature means she likes building a hoards of all the things precious to her. now that she feels comfortable in Chaldea she can't help but gather all the people she likes to cuddle together with in bed with. Who ends up in her cuddle pile is up to y'all

Vlad is talked into going on a boat ride to relax. Everyone on the boat is very uncomfortable with this

Anything involving Ritsuka having extreme mommy issues

so Chloe's whole... thing... is "justified" in-universe as she needs magic to stay stable, so she gets it by doing... that. Ergo, I want to see something where she's summoned in Chaldea and thus hooked up to a stable magic supply, so she doesn't have to do that anymore and gets to actually Process and maybe just Be A Kid instead.

Other

I kinda just wanna say “Galehaut” and watch what the Fate fandom does with the idea of the half-giant king that only didn’t overthrow Camelot because he wanted to bone Lancelot. So I will.

Kinks are known to suddenly appear and develop with age, so: Older version of a servant helping unlock a kink for their younger self

can we get some consensual hypnokink content, perhaps? maybe someone has a kink for being hypnotized and wants so badly to hand over control for a little bit, or they're nervous about performing well during sex and just want to be more assured in themselves! how and why it's done is up to the author/artist as well as the characters, so long as there is consent established!

#weekly roundup

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homenecromancer · 1 year

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I gotta say something about that “hey guess why Gollum tripped” post, and I can’t cram it all into the tags while posting at work so uh here y’all go — also please note, this is my personal POV on an issue that way more articulate people have been arguing about since the 1960s, AND I’ve tried to avoid elaborate fictional terminology (so if you are also way too into LOTR, some of this will read strangely)

anyway. there’s a point in the middle of The Two Towers where Sam and Frodo, needing a guide into Mordor, encounter Gollum. Sam believes that killing Gollum is the only safe option; Frodo deliberately decides to have mercy and spare his life. to ensure that Gollum will remain loyal, Frodo does something significant: he has Gollum swear an oath to the only power Gollum truly respects — the Ring

but Gollum ends up breaking this oath, which is very bad, because Tolkien is really, really big on oaths and curses as a general theme. the best other example of this I can offer involves Aragorn. if you’ve ever wondered what was with the dead guys in Return of the King: they broke an oath they made to Isildur (then-King of Gondor) to fight for him, and he cursed them for it; Aragorn (heir to Isildur) offers to release them from this curse, and forgive their crime, if they will fight on his side. on Middle-earth, if you break an oath, You’re Fucked

(it is also worth noting that that this is also a world where the various, uh, lesser gods and goddesses verifiably interact with mortals and listen to the pleas of those who call on them. this is why, when Sam is about to get eaten by Shelob, he was able to call on the goddess of light “in a language which he did not know” and drive Shelob away: Varda [aka Elbereth] could sense Sam’s, uh, prayers, and acted through him. supernatural intervention is not only possible in this world, it happens all the time; curses, prophecies, and oaths are never subverted, though they may take a while to be fulfilled.)

so, by the time Sam and Frodo are on Mount Doom, they are at the very end of their strength. Frodo is about five seconds from fucking up the whole quest, because the Ring is a power that mortals literally cannot resist for an extended time, and things only get worse as they physically near the entrance to the mountain. and then Gollum shows back up and Frodo, almost shattered by the Ring, loses his temper:

“Begone, and trouble me no more! If you touch me ever again, you shall be cast yourself into the Fire of Doom.”

once again, an oathbreaker has been cursed. but we don’t have to wait long to see things play out, because Frodo fails to destroy the Ring. in fact, he claims it for his own, only steps away from the only place it can be destroyed. which gives Gollum an opening to successfully attack him, bite off Frodo’s finger, and… trigger the fulfillment of his own curse. RIP

but let’s back up for just a moment: what if Gollum refused to swear loyalty in the first place, and Sam killed him? I’ll tell you what: no one would’ve been there on Mount Doom (if he got there unguided) to stop Frodo from seizing the Ring. Sauron, the original Evil Overlord, would’ve been able to deploy troops and take the Ring back, and all three books would’ve been for nothing. both Gollum’s broken oath, and Frodo’s angry curse, are crucial to the story, but neither can happen without Frodo’s original act of mercy in sparing Gollum’s life

here’s another quote, this time from a letter (letter 192 if you have his collected letters, which I don’t — this is from an excerpt I found) by Tolkien to a fan:

In this case the cause (not the ‘hero’) was triumphant, because by the exercise of pity, mercy, and forgiveness of injury, a situation was produced in which all was redressed and disaster averted.

having only read this letter in part, yes, my thoughts are not fully informed, and I’m willing to be wrong. but I made you scroll this far, so here is my explanation:

Gollum ultimately dies because he was cursed by Frodo, and met the conditions to “trigger” that curse. (had Gollum never broken his oath to Frodo in the first place, this could not have happened; it also couldn’t have happened if Frodo had not chosen to spare Gollum’s life. this is the point Tolkien is trying to drive home in that letter, but it’s not really what this post was supposed to be about.) the authority responsible for enforcing this curse is — the fact that this is a fictional story, one where curses are a real thing that happens. ok I’m fucking around a little bit; within the logic of the story itself, curses just sort of work as an established part of the world, like gravity or Elves being supernaturally hot. but within the story, there is an actual entity responsible for inventing gravity, Elves, and curses. and that entity is Eru, the central creator figure

so, yeah, Gollum trips off a cliff because he lives in a world where God takes oaths and curses incredibly seriously

final note: there is no bottom to the amount of weird LOTR stuff I could tell you, but like.

yeah, sure, God did it I guess, but the execution is nine times less painful for me than, say, Narnia. with Narnia, finding out the author was Christian rather took away the wonder I had felt and left a bad taste in my mouth — “this talking lion is supposed to be Jesus, like regular boring earth Jesus? not ‘you could see it that way’, but literally Jesus? now he got mad and destroyed Narnia and they’re just basically going to regular boring earth Heaven, but with talking animals? fuck this I’ve heard enough about Christianity in my life”

meanwhile Tolkien committed to the bit way harder than he needed to, so you have shit like “yeah, the world was flat until some guys tried to sail to the realm of the gods, so that they could fight those gods and become immortal. they were not successful, and Eru made the world round so no one could try that shit again”. which just has immensely more charm for me personally. I’ll shut up now

#lotr #this is uh. not my strongest analysis by far just trying to vibe some things out #long post

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khoicesbyk · 2 years

Text

The Royal Romance.

Love Everlasting.

A/N: I had a different name and plot for this fic over a year ago. But after being in the RP community for more than a year, I've decided to write the current Royal Life of my favorite OTP.

Rated: Mature (at times can and will be Explicit. I'll be sure to change the rating when and if that happens). | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual. Y'all should be used to this from me by now 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: King Marquise Rys (LI) and Queen Shanelle Miller-Rys (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me and/or other authors [their characters have been mentioned and/or used in the story with their permission] ) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 50K words. (may be slightly more or may be slightly less. Look, I stop counting after editing and re-editing and driving myself insane. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

This series is rated Mature and/or Explicit. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here!

TW: Mentions of Cancer. Reader Discretion is STRONGLY ADVISED!

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations

Matrimony. Part 2.

“Will you come on? We gotta go!” she said to him as she dragged him out of the residence entrance.

“Will you slow down Shanelle?! Your duchy isn't going anywhere.”

Shanelle stopped for just a moment.

“I know it's not. I'm just anxious and excited to go. I've never had something like this and I’m just…I’m ready to see it.”

Marquise shook his head with a chuckle.

“I understand my love. I understand your excitement. But I promise you it's not going anywhere. We won't miss anything.”

Shanelle sighed.

“You're right. I'm sorry for being in such a rush.”

Marquise kissed her forehead.

“No need to apologize. I understand your excitement.”

She smiled at him.

“Also I hope you don't mind. I invited a few people to come with us.”

“Who?” she asked.

As soon as Shanelle asked the question, George, with Ozzie on his leash, walked out of the residence.

“Good morning you two. Master Oswald and I are ready to ride. Aren't we?” George said to the couple.

“His name is Ozzie Papa.” Marquise corrected him.

“I know what his name is my boy. After all, you named him after Oswald.”

“Oswald?” Shanelle asked.

“He was my old hunting partner. A lovable beagle that my boy here was in love with. Unfortunately, Oswald passed away last year.” George replies.

Just then Margo walked out of the residence.

“Look at you two! Looking like a vision of a true King and Queen.” Margo said to the two.

“Merci, maman,” Marquise said to Margo before turning his attention to Shanelle, “now my love, are ready to go?”

“Yes! Let's go!” Shanelle replies.

Soon they were off to tour Shanelle’s duchy. The ride which lasted 3 ½ hours took them through beautiful fields of flowers, rolling hills, small towns, and quaint villages. When they arrived at her duchy estate, Shanelle’s jaw dropped. She couldn't believe what all she was looking at.

“Sooooo…just to recap, THIS IS ALL MINE?!” She asked Marquise.

“All of it,” he replied.

Shanelle looked back and forth pointing between him and the estate’s main entrance.

“Yes. Everything you see is yours, my love.”

“All mine. It's all mine. Oh my God! It's all mine!” she squealed happily.

That's when a primly dressed woman walked across the bridge to greet everyone.

“Good morning Your Highness! My name is Gladys Gibbons-Renaud. I am the Major Domo here at the Volterias estate.” Gladys said as she greeted Shanelle.

“I have a Major Domo?” Shanelle asked.

“Yes ma'am. I was personally selected by Mr. and Mrs. Geaneaux to handle the affairs and staff here at the estate. I am at your service at all times.” Gladys replied.

Shanelle looked between Gladys and Marquise with a hand over her mouth. Marquise chuckled.

“Yes, Shanelle. It's real.”

Shanelle couldn't contain her excitement.

“Shall I begin the tour?” Gladys asked Shanelle.

“YES!!” Shanelle ecstatically replied.

“Let us begin.”

Gladys led them on an extensive tour of the estate. When they got to the master bedroom, Shanelle lost her mind.

“Oh. My. God! IT’S PURPLEEEEEEE!” she exclaimed.

“Yes ma'am. His Highness let the staff members know that your favorite color is purple.” Gladys added.

Shanelle threw her arms around Marquise’s neck.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank youuuuuu!”

“You're very welcome. Wait until you see your closet, my love.”

“M-m-my closet?!” she stammered.

“Right this way, Your Highness,” Gladys said as she led them to Shanelle’s master closet and bathroom.

When they got to the massive walk-in closet Shanelle’s knees gave out on her. Thankfully Marquise was there to catch her.

“Are you alright, Your Highness?” Glass asked.

“Yeah. I'm okay. Just a little wobbly is all.” Shanelle replied.

“I understand. If you'd like to finish the tour at another time we can do that.”

“I'd like that. Thank you, Gladys.”

“My pleasure, Your Highness. In the meantime, I have to prepare rooms for your incoming guests.”

“Incoming guests?” Shanelle asked.

“Yes. His Highness sent out invitations to your friends to stay here at the estate, while you're here. We can't have them staying in stables now can we?” Gladys replied.

“I love it here!” Shanelle squealed.

“I am glad you do. Now if you'll both excuse me, I have rooms to prepare.”

Gladys bowed politely before leaving the couple alone. They walked out of her closet and sat on the plush master bed.

“Just to recap, you invited my girls without telling me?” Shanelle asked.

“Unapologetically. And I would do it again in a heartbeat.” Marquise replies.

“I can't believe you pulled this off. I get to spend time with them here at my duchy for a few days. We're gonna have so much fun.”

“Weeks actually.”

The record spinning in Shanelle’s head just scratched.

“Weeks? What do you mean by "weeks?” she asked.

“Well considering that the Derby is next weekend and of course, you girls are hosting your very first tea here, and then you and I will be the stars of The Grand Hunt,” Marquise replied.

“But what about their jobs? I don't want to get them in trouble.”

“They won't be in trouble. Their presence was requested by the Crown Prince of North Cordonia. I dare their bosses to argue with that.”

“Okay, I get it. When do they get here?” she asked.

“Next Friday. Just in time for the Derby next Saturday,” he replies.

“Will they be staying here?” she asked.

“Yes. I wanted your very first weekend here to just be you, me, and Ozzie,” he replies.

“And Margo and George,” she added.

Marquise chuckled.

“Yes, mama and papa too. Here, come with me.”

Marquise stood up and brought her to her feet. He led her out onto her balcony which overlooked a massive field and waterfall.

“I can't believe this is all mine,” Shanelle said quietly.

She felt him wrap his arms around her waist as he placed a small kiss on her right shoulder.

“Believe it, my love. This is all yours. You are the future Queen. You deserve this.”

They stood together and quietly watched the waterfall for several minutes.

“How are you feeling my love?” he asked.

“It's a lot. Like a whole lot. Hell, I’m still trying to process everything we've done and seen this entire week. But thank you for being patient with me. All of this is still new and it's hard to keep up with it all sometimes.” she replied.

“I understand. But I'm proud of you for trying. None of it is easy. Not even for me. But what good is a monarch if they don't try?”

Shanelle smiled at him. They continued to enjoy the view just as Ozzie’s bark interrupted the moment. He was followed by Margo and George.

“Ozzie! Are you enjoying yourself here? Are you being a good loaf?” Shanelle asked him as she gave him scritches behind his ears. “Are you two enjoying your accommodations as well?”

“Yes, we are, Your Highness. We love the guest house. I'm currently trying to come up with a plan to steal those beds.” George replied.

“The guest house? You should be staying here in the estate with us. I'll have Gladys make sure you two have a room.”

“No Princess. We would never want to impose.”

“Nonsense Margo. You two are practically family. Anyone who puts up with this walking beanstalk is always welcome to stay here in the estate.”

“I am not a walking beanstalk!” Marquise protested.

Margo smiled at Shanelle.

“If you insist, Your Highness.”

“I certainly do. Now I don't know about all of you but I'm hungry so it's time for lunch. Besides, I want to meet the kitchen staff.”

They spent the rest of the day meeting the various staff members and touring the grounds. By the end of the day, Shanelle was exhausted yet happy.

“I love this bed.” she sighed happily as she snuggled against Marquise’s chest.

“I love you in this bed,” Marquise said to her.

“It's so soft and comfy and it's mine. All mine.”

“Yes, it is,” he said before he kissed the palm of her right hand.

“I can't believe you are giving me all of this.”

“My Queen deserves no less than the best. And that is what I give.”

“I can't wait to bring my mom and dad here. They'll love it.”

“Have you spoken to him?” he asked.

“No, not yet. But I miss him. He's my dad. He fucked up. Completely. But I still love him.” she replied.

“Of course you do. Like you said he's your dad. And you love him just as much as he loves you.”

“If that's your way of saying that I’m a daddy's girl.”

Marquise snickered.

“Your words not mine.”

Shanelle shook her head with a yawn.

“Are you sleepy?” he asked.

“Mmmhmm. It's been a long day. And I still have so much to see here.” she replies.

Marquise held her close.

“Goodnight Princess.”

“Goodnight Your Highness.”

Soon they went off to a peaceful sleep together. The next day they were touring a few of the towns, so she could meet her people. The people were eager and excited to meet the new Princess and couldn't wait to show her around. The couple toured a factory that made hand-blown glass and stained glass windows. She got to spend the day learning the different customs as well as learning more about the lantern festival she'll host once she becomes Queen.

By the end of the day, Shanelle felt good about what all she had done and seen that day. She spent that night relaxing with him in a couples bubble bath and snuggling together in her bed.

”I have died and gone to heaven!” she said with a contented sigh.

She felt his chin on her left shoulder as his arms wrapped around her.

“Welcome to paradise my Queen.”

“I don't have the title yet and you still call me Queen.”

Marquise softly kissed the back of her left ear.

“You will have the title come this Wednesday.”

Shanelle turned slightly to face him.

“Wait! Are you serious?!” she asked.

“Yes, my love. We will meet with the soon-to-be former monarchs Wednesday. Where we will sign the official transfer of Monarchial powers.” he replies.

“That means…” she trailed off.

“As of this coming Wednesday, Cordonia will be ours. Yours and mine.”

“We'll be King and Queen for real?” she asked.

“Not quite. We won't be King and Queen officially until we're married. But we will be the regents. Also, Wednesday is when the kingdoms unite. There will no longer be a North Cordonia or South Cordonia but Cordonia as a whole.” he replies.

“And it'll all be mine?” she asked.

“Everything the light touches is our kingdom,” he replies.

Shanelle snickered.

“How do you feel about that?” she asked.

“Relieved mostly. I'm ready to burn this kingdom to the ground and rebuild it in our images,” he replies.

“I like that idea.”

“Yes, I knew you would. But mostly I’m ready to restore the people's faith in their leaders.”

“And we will. It won't be easy,” she added.

“I don't expect it to be but we will do this.”

“I have faith in us. We will restore Cordonia.”

“Indeed we will, my love.”

Shanelle felt her eyelids getting heavier by the moment as she lay in his arms. Eventually, the Princess dozed off into a peaceful sleep. After spending all the next morning in bed, that Sunday evening, they took two of the estate horses out for a walk along the river. Shanelle, having not ridden a horse in years, was feeling it as they went along the river’s edge.

“Yup my thighs are burning. This was a bad idea.”

“Well, we could stop and walk the horses ourselves the rest of the way if you prefer to do that.”

“Is that your way of telling me to quit complaining?” she asked.

“You said it, not me,” he replied.

Shanelle pouted.

“Besides, we're almost there.”

“Almost where?” she asked.

“You'll see,” he replied as they rode along.

They rode a little further up until they got to their destination. And when they got there Shanelle’s jaw dropped.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Hmm?” he replied.

There was an entire picnic laid out in a field, with a large tent set up as well.

“I figured we could spend a night under the stars. Literally. Unless you want to ride all the way back to the estate and do something else.”

She wanted to kick him but she was too busy being stuck. She didn't have words. He helped her dismount and they walked over to the picnic.

“You're silent,” he said to her.

“I'm speechless. How did you do this? How did you have time to do this?” she asked.

He tilted her chin up so that she was looking at him.

“When it comes to you when it comes to spoiling you when it comes to giving you everything you deserve when it comes to making sure you know how I feel about you, I will always have time. I will always make time. You will always know that you’re my #1 priority.” he replies.

She didn't know what to say or do, so she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. When their kiss broke she had tears in her eyes.

“Why are you crying, my love?” he asked.

“You did all of this for me when you didn't have to,” she replied.

“Yes, I did. And I would do it again and again and again and again. You tasked me with loving and nurturing your heart and your trust and this is just one way how I do that. By showing you true, real, unconditional, and genuine love. Now dry your eyes and let's sit down so we can enjoy our picnic.”

The couple sat down and Marquise immediately started unpacking the picnic basket. There were two champagne glasses, 6 covered dishes, utensils, and two chilled bottles of wine.

“So what do we have?” she asked.

“Two first courses, two main courses, and two desserts,” he replied as he uncovered the first two plates.

“Ooh! Caesar Salad!”

“Yes. And for our main courses, we have Beef Wellington with a beautiful Red Wine reduction, Chicken Cordon Bleu, two beautifully cooked lobster tails with melted lemon and parsley butter, roasted garlic parmesan smashed potatoes, Brussels sprouts with balsamic vinegar and bacon, and roasted asparagus with Hollandaise.”

“Shut up and pass me a fork!”

Marquise snickered before they dug into their meal.

“Are you moaning over food?” he asked.

“Look. I make a lot of noise when I eat,” she replied.

“And when you drink,” he added.

“That too.”

Once their meal was done it was time for dessert.

“Now what is this?” she asked.

“Chocolate Strawberry Napoleon and a Pot De Creme Au Chocolat L’Orange. They're absolutely delicious,” he replies.

“And what do you have?” she asked.

“Baklava! Specifically Chocolate Baklava,” he replies.

“I'm sensing a theme here.”

“And what theme is that, my Queen?” he asked.

“These are all menu options for a wedding reception,” she replied.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, my Queen?” he asked.

“Yes. We have officially tasted our reception menu,” she replies.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Positive. I want this menu at our reception,” she replies.

Marquise swirled the wine in his glass.

“As my Queen commands.”

Shanelle snickered.

“I don't think I will ever get tired of hearing you say that.”

“You shouldn't. The day that you do is the day I have failed you completely.”

“Have I told you that you're hopelessly romantic?” she asked.

“Plenty of times. Now shall we explore our sleeping quarters for the evening?” he replies.

“As long as you bring the wine.”

Marquise grabbed the bottles before they made their way into the tent. It was spacious with an opening at the top so they could look up at the stars. Shanelle laid back and looked up.

“This view is amazing!”

“Yes, it is. And the stars are nice too.”

Shanelle rolled her eyes with a smirk.

“You never stop.”

“Nope and I never will.”

Shanelle sits up and takes a sip of wine before laying her head on his shoulder.

“Drunk yet Princess?” he asked.

“No, but I'm getting there," she replied.

She felt his arm wrap around her and pull her closer.

“I like having you like this.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“In my arms. I don't like letting you go,” he replied.

“Do me a favor," she said to him.

“Hmmm?” he replied.

She kissed him softly.

“Don't ever let go.”

He kissed her slowly. When their kiss ended all she wanted to do was melt into him.

"Is it wrong that I just want to stay here like this?" She asks.

"No. Because I owe this to you." He replied.

"I'm not a debt Marquise. You don't owe me anything."

"But I do. I owe you my heart and my love. And I promise to give you that. I promise to always give you that.”

She shook her head at him.

"Well, this weekend might not have been so bad after all."

“I wanted to make sure your first weekend here was peaceful.”

“Mission accomplished sir.”

She snuggled closer to him.

“Go to sleep Shanelle. I'll see you in the morning.”

She smiled at him just before closing her eyes. The next morning they were back at the estate, readying to leave for South Cordonia.

“Is it wrong that I’m excited?” she asked.

“No, it's not. Today we get to travel to the capital city of South Cordonia. This is a big deal for you.” he replied.

“Will it take long to get to South Cordonia?” she asked.

“Your duchy sits on the border of both North and South Cordonia. It's about 2 ½ hours away. Would you still like to go?” he replied.

“Yes, I would like to go.”

“We're not too far from the capital city.”

“What is the capital city?” she asked.

“Cloutier. And should you ever be asked, the name of the capital city in North Cordonia is Bélanger for future reference,” he replied.

“Thanks for the heads up. Do you think we would have time to visit my grandparents’ graves today?” she asked.

“Of course,” he replied.

“I've always wanted to see where they were buried. As weird as that sounds.”

“It's not weird at all. You were a toddler when they died. But I do know that they loved you. Especially your grandmother.”

“How can you be sure?” she asked.

“The last time I remember seeing your grandmother, she was having tea with my mother. I remember running into the garden where they were, and how she called me a handsome little prince. But mostly she gushed about you. She was so excited to be a grandmother.” he replied.

Shanelle smiled softly.

“Thank you for that. So what are we waiting for?” she asked.

Marquise shook his head with a smile.

“Let's go.”

And off they went. The 2 ½ hour drive was smooth. They traveled along the river through several villages to the capital city of South Cordonia. When they got to the center of the capital city, the main street was filled with people eager to get a glimpse of the heir to the throne.

“Look at all the people!”

“They're all here to see you. You’re the heir they've heard so much about.”

When they pulled into the motor court of the palace Shanelle was in awe.

“I haven't been here in years but it's beautiful.”

“Indeed. In the few times I've had to come here I was always struck by its beauty. But we aren't here to admire the palace, we're here so you can see your grandparents or at least their final resting place.”

Shanelle nodded solemnly.

“Are you ready, my love?” Marquise asked.

“No, but we didn't come all this way for nothing. So let's go," she replied.

Slipping her left hand into his right and flowers tucked under her right arm, they walked from the motor court to the memorial gardens. The closer they got to her grandparent's graves, Shanelle started to get emotional and Marquise noticed.

“Are you okay, my love?” he asked.

Shanelle shook her head no.

“We don't have to continue.”

“Yes, we do. I just want to see them. I feel like I have to say goodbye.”

“If it becomes too much we'll leave, okay?” he asked.

Shanelle nodded before they continued. When they got to her grandparent's graves and saw the names on the headstone, she lost it. Thankfully Marquise was right there by her side.

“It's okay my love.”

“I didn't think it would be this hard. I wasn't even here when they died or when they were buried.”

“That doesn't change the fact you love them, Shanelle. You still have the memories of them.”

Shanelle nodded while drying her eyes.

“I don't have that many memories of them because we weren't around each other long. But I do remember parts of my coronation.”

“Tell me about that.”

Shanelle closed her eyes and inhaled and exhaled slowly.

“It was my first time here in Cordonia. I couldn't have been any older than 19 months old. Me, my mom, my dad were walking down the hall to the throne room and I remember seeing my grandmother’s garden. So when we were in the throne room with them and Edward, I was fussy because all I wanted to do was go see the flowers. So my grandmother took me out to the garden, and let me run around. I even picked one of her flowers and gave it to her as a present. Her favorite flowers were Roses, Hydrangeas, and Carnations. Because of her, they're my favorite too.”

Marquise nodded.

“Your connection to Cordonia is strong because of them. They wanted you to have this. They knew you were destined to be the Queen that South Cordonia needs.”

Shanelle smiled sadly at him.

“Do you see that inscription between their names?” she asked.

“Yes, I see it. What about it?” he replies.

“Read it.”

Marquise looked closer and read the inscription.

“In the memory of Flower and Baba. Loving and doting grandparents.”

“Those were the nicknames I gave them. I called her Flower and I called him Baba. I was supposed to be saying Papa but 19-month-old logic and pronunciation at the time.”

Tears started to well in her eyes again.

“I think I'm ready to go now,” she whispered.

“Alright. We’ll head back.”

Shanelle looked at the headstone one last time.

“Bye Baba. Bye Flower. I'll come back soon.” she whispered before they left.

They walked back to their waiting car and when they left the palace, Shanelle was quiet.

“Are you alright my love?” he asked.

“I will be,” she said as she laid her head on his right shoulder.

“Your grandparents would be proud of you. Especially your grandfather.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Yes. For years, he was the Iron King. Unrelenting and impenetrable. Nothing fazed him. He literally ruled with an iron fist until he found out that he had a beautiful granddaughter. There was a seismic shift in the way he ruled after he found out about you. He became more patient. More understanding. More kind. He began to have a more open mind and honest dialogue with his people. He even apologized to them for the way he treated them. Because he didn't want you to inherit his old ways as King. Your father was right. You changed your grandfather for the better up until he retired as King.” he replied.

Shanelle smiled at him.

“Thank you for saying that. I needed to hear it.”

He kissed the back of her left hand.

“That's what I'm here for my love.”

When they got to the palace in North Cordonia, all Shanelle wanted to do was go to sleep.

That following Wednesday couldn't come fast enough for Shanelle and especially Marquise. It was the day the kingdoms would be theirs permanently and Cordonia’s two final Royal Families would begin the process of being one family.

Marquise was up bright and early getting ready. This was his moment and he was going to take it. Once he was ready, he went to check on Shanelle who was getting ready in the palace boutique. When she walked out of the boutique his jaw dropped.

“What? Is it too much?” she asked.

“You are a vision, my Queen,” he replied.

She snickered.

“Kiss ass.”

“Absolutely.”

Shanelle shook her head with a smirk.

“Shall we be off?” he asked.

“Yup. Let's go,” she replied.

He offered her his arm and soon they left the boutique and headed for the main dining room.

“Is it wrong that I’m nervous?” she asked.

“Why are you nervous?” he replied.

“Because this is it. Today we are about to gain two kingdoms. You're about to be King and I will be Queen.”

He stopped walking to face her.

“Look at me,” he said as he gathered, then squeezed her hands gently, “I understand that you are nervous but you are never alone. You've said it for days, we are a team. We are and will always be a united front.”

He watched her bite her bottom lip.

“You're cute when you do that.”

“Do what?” she asked.

“Bite your bottom lip. It's absolutely adorable. I love to watch you bite your lip. Here come with me.” he replies.

He led her to a large picture window looking out to the hedge maze.

“You are moments away from being a Queen of legend. Normally I would be biased and say that the title of Queen of legend belongs to only my mother but even I have to admit that title will soon belong to you. As it should. I have every confidence and faith in you and your abilities. You are a pillar of strength, beauty, intelligence, grace, and poise. And soon, Cordonia will see what I see in you.”

Shanelle closed her eyes and exhaled slowly before smiling softly.

“I love your faith in me.”

He kissed her forehead softly.

“So let's shake off the nerves, let's each take a deep breath, and let's go conquer the former monarchs.”

Shanelle snorted.

“You're gonna have a field day with this aren't you?” she asked.

“Damn straight I am. I've waited years for this and now the moment I've been waiting for is finally here. So do excuse me whilst I get the rare opportunity to show my entire ass.” he replied.

Shanelle snorted.

“You're insufferable.”

“Very. Now if you don't want to talk to any of them, you don't have to. I will do all the talking. Okay?”

“Okay. Besides, I think I wanna watch you in rare form today.”

“Very well. Now, are you ready?” he asked.

“Lead the way, my King,” she replied.

They continued down the hall to the main dining room where Bastien was standing guard.

“Good afternoon Your Highnesses. Are you two ready?” Bastien asked Marquise.

“We were born for this. Open the doors.” Marquise replied.

With a curt nod, Bastien opened the doors to the dining room. When the couple walked in they are greeted by her uncle and his wife, Constantine and Regina, George and Margo, and two unexpected guests.

“Mom? Dad? What are you two doing here?!” Shanelle asks her parents.

“You would have to ask the Prince that question, baby.” her mother replied.

Shanelle glared at Marquise with her arms crossed.

“Before you hit me let me explain.”

“Start yapping.”

“This is an important moment for us both. And I thought it was pertinent that your parents share this moment with you. Besides, your father deserves to see his scheming pay off.”

“I guess…” she trailed off.

“Also, it's time the two of you sat down and spoke.”

“Now?” Shanelle asked.

“After we're done here,” Marquise replied.

Shanelle nodded.

“Okay.”

Marquise turned his attention to everyone in the room.

“Please be seated everyone so we can get started and lunch can be served.”

Marquise pulled Shanelle’s chair out for her as everyone took their seats and earned a side eye from her dad.

“How about instead of giving me a look Damien, you be grateful I got your daughter to even look at you?” Marquise warned Damien before taking his seat.

Once everyone was seated Marquise spoke.

“First on behalf of Shanelle and myself, I want to thank everyone for joining us. Today marks the dawning of a new era in Cordonian history. Today signifies the end of the reigns of King Constantine Rys of North Cordonia and King Edward Miller of South Cordonia. And marks the beginning of a brand new reign of myself and Shanelle.”

Everyone looked at Marquise as he continued.

“Now I know that 4 of you in this room are not very happy right now. And that is due to the work of 3 of you. Stand up, gentlemen! Let's have a round of applause while the three of you take your well-deserved bows because you've done it. You three wanted a united Cordonia after centuries of it being divided and you've succeeded. That is a feat like no other. Now, unfortunately, two of you have to renounce your titles as Ruling Monarchs thus giving up your kingdoms to achieve this goal of a united and unified Cordonia. Not that I can say that I'm sympathetic to your cause.”

Shanelle took a sip of her water to hide her snicker while Edward rolled his eyes.

“Are you finished, Your Highness?” Edward asked.

“Absolutely not. I just had to get that off my chest.” Marquise replied.

“Need I remind you that you’re still just a Prince?” Edward asked.

“No, you don't but if you don't keep your mouth shut these proceedings will take all day,” Marquise replied.

Edward cursed under his breath but said nothing else.

“Much better. Now let us begin.”

With a quick clap of Marquise’s hands, the first course was served. It was Lobster Bisque. It's one of Shanelle’s favorites.

“This Lobster Bisque is amazing,” Shanelle whispered to Marquise.

“Wonderful. I'm glad you like it. This lunch menu was curated with just you in mind.” he whispered back to her before addressing the room. “While lunch is being served everyone, let's get down to the first order of business.”

Marquise watched as everyone turned their attention toward him.

“The first order of business is our upcoming wedding. We are here today to officially announce who will stand for myself and Shanelle at the ceremony.”

Marquise turned to Damien and Shantel.

“Because of the magnitude of this extraordinary circumstance, it would be customary for the King and Queen of South Cordonia to stand as the representatives of the Crown Heir but, because you two are her parents, I have but one question, will you stand as the representatives of Princess Shanelle at our wedding?” he asked her parents.

“Are you kidding?! Of course, Damien and I will stand for our daughter!” Shantel enthusiastically replied.

Marquise nodded with a smile before looking at Damien.

“What say you, Prince Damien?” Marquise asked.

“I would love nothing more than to stand for my daughter at your wedding,” Damien replied.

Marquise nodded before turning his attention to Margo and George. He looked fondly at Margo.

“Now you’re probably wondering why you and Papa are even here in the first place aren't you?” he asked Margo.

Before Margo could reply, Connie finally spoke up.

“That's a very good question, my son. Why are they here?” Constantine asked.

“I'm glad you asked. Because you’re about to find out.” Marquise replied before turning his attention back to Margo.

He smiled at Margo softly as he took her right hand into his left hand.

“You have been like a mother to me. You raised me. You gave me love when I didn't think I was worthy of it. You challenged me. You fought for me. You taught me. You cheered me on. You encouraged me. You wiped away silent tears I’ve shed over the years. You kicked my ass when God knew that I needed it. You and Papa have been the parents I desperately needed. Especially when His Majesty couldn't have cared less for me.”

He cleared his throat while rubbing the back of her knuckles.

“You showed me what family is, what it should be, and how it should always look like. With that being said, Maman, I would be so honored and eternally grateful if you and Papa would stand for me at my wedding.”

At that moment you could hear a pin drop. Everyone was stunned.

“Say something, Mama.”

Margo looked at him with her eyes shining with tears.

“You're certain?” she asked.

“Yes. It would mean the world to me if you and Papa would stand for me as my representatives at my wedding,” he replied.

“My love. Just say yes!” George says to his wife, making Marquise shake his head with a chuckle.

Margo looked at Shanelle who smiled at her encouragingly.

“If you’re both sure, Papa and I would be honored to stand for you,” Margo said to her adopted son.

“Papa?” Marquise asked George.

“Of course my boy. It would be an honor and a privilege to stand for you. Especially when it's to honor your mother.” George replied.

Connie scoffed.

“You mean he disgraces his mother. Eleanor would be offended and appalled.” Connie sneered.

Marquise glared defiantly at his father.

“I do no worse of a job at disgracing her name, her memory, or her legacy than you do. Furthermore, my mother trusted Margo far more than she ever trusted you. Not that I blame her, given your track record as a King, a husband, and a father.”

Connie went quiet, and that's when Regina spoke up.

“If your representatives for your wedding have been chosen, stepson, why are we, King Edward and Queen Genevieve even here?” Regina asked.

“Simple. You don't have a choice in the matter. To which you and Genevieve can thank your husbands for that. After all, Damien wasn't the only scheming father in this plot you know. The same man responsible for Leo and Madeleine’s disaster of an engagement is the same man who helped to orchestrate this whole thing.” Marquise replied.

Regina huffed.

“Now onto the location of the wedding, as you all know Shanelle is not native to Cordonia, she is native to New York and that is where the wedding will take place. And because it is customary for a former Monarch to attend the wedding of the new Monarch, the presence of the four of you is required to attend our wedding.” Marquise announced.

His announcement was met with jeering protests from the Monarchs.

“Absolutely not! I will not step foot in that cesspool of a city!” Queen Genevieve shouted.

“As I stated to my father's wife, you don't have a choice in the matter, Your Majesty. Your presence is mandatory as is theirs. All thanks to your scheming husband.” Marquise said to Queen Genevieve.

She glared daggers at him.

“That look may work on your subjects and children but it doesn't work on me. You’re not as intimidating as you think. Now the date is to be determined, but all of you are required to attend. And I expect to see all of you there.”

Edward slammed his fist on the table.

“How dare you speak to my wife that way?!”

“Sit down Edward!” Shanelle snapped at him.

Edward scoffs.

“So now the Princess has a mouth eh?” he asked Shanelle.

“She also has a shoe that she will take off and chuck at yo big ass head if you don't sit yo sorry ass the fuck down!” she replied.

“You dare threaten me, child?!” he sneered at her.

“It's not a threat, it's a promise. One that I plan to make good on,” she replied.

“Why you insolent little-” Edward started to say before Marquise cut him off, “sit down and be quiet Edward!”

Edward glared at them both but sat down and kept quiet as the first course plates were cleared and the main course was served. The main course was a perfectly seared petite Filet Mignon topped with colossal shrimp and a crab Oscar sauce with creamy parmesan risotto and honey-roasted carrots with roasted hazelnuts. Shanelle loved it.

“Now that everyone has been told about the wedding details. It's time to sign the paperwork.”

With a snap of his fingers, the official transfer proclamation was brought in.

“I see no reason to delay the inevitable for much longer so let's rip the bandaid off and get it over with,” Marquise announced.

Marquise took a pen out and signed twice then handed Shanelle the pen.

“Sign your name twice under mine, date it, and record the time.” be instructed.

Shanelle nodded before signing and dating the document. Marquise then turned to Shanelle’s parents.

“Prince Damien, as the agent acting on Shanelle’s behalf, you are to sign, date, and record the time. Duchess Shantel as Mother Of The Heir, you are also to sign, date, and record the time.”

Damien was first to sign then Shantel.

“Now comes the fun part! Stripping the two kings of their titles.” Marquise announced.

Shanelle snickered.

“You're enjoying this aren't you?” Shanelle asked him.

“Immensely,” he replied with a smirk.

“You're a mess.”

Marquise shrugged.

“I told you how I planned on acting.”

Marquise turned to the Monarchs who were all glaring at him.

“Now let's start with King Edward and Queen Genevieve. Your Majesties, you both are to sign, date, and record the time, and King Edward you are to seal the document.”

“No.” Queen Genevieve said defiantly. “This disrespectful child doesn't deserve MY kingdom.”

Shanelle rolled her eyes.

“For the record, the kingdom you’re claiming is yours has always been Shanelle’s. You were nothing more than a glorified caretaker. Also, this deal was brokered and set in stone, long before you married Edward and had his children. You know this. All because he wanted to be a hero in his father's eyes.” Marquise said to Queen Genevieve.

“I don't care! This is my kingdom! I will not sign!”

Marquise looked at her coolly.

“You can either sign on your own free will or be thrown in chains. Your choice Genevieve.”

Damien choked on his water, Shantel took a satisfied sip of her lemonade, while Shanelle snickered at Genevieve’s facial reaction.

“Well, what's your decision, Your Majesty?” Marquise asked, “you are holding us up.”

Genevieve angrily signed the proclamation.

“Are you happy now, Your Highness?” Queen Genevieve sneered.

“Very! Now for your husband.”

Marquise turned his attention to Shanelle’s uncle.

“Your Majesty you’re next. Now sign!”

Edward gave Marquise a venomous look.

“You can look at me like that all you want. This was all your doing. And now you get to reap the seeds that you've sown. Don't be angry now. You and your co-conspirators caused this. Now sign the goddamn proclamation!” Marquise growled.

The two stared at each other furiously with Marquise’s gaze unrelenting. Finally, with a long exasperated sigh, Edward gave in and signed.

“Seal it!” Marquise commanded.

Using his signet ring, Edward applied his seal while cursing under his breath before handing the document over to Marquise.

“Perfect. Now for the moment, I have waited my entire life for.”

Marquiss looked at Constantine who looked disgusted with him.

“Now this…this is what you deserve. To be stripped of your kingdom and title just for it to be handed to me. The son you always called a failure. The one you threatened to have hung by the neck whenever I didn't do whatever you demanded I do more times than I can count. It's pretty sweet if you ask me.”

“Are you done gloating?” Connie asked with a sneer.

“Are you six feet under?” Marquise replied.

Constantine gave his son a death stare.

“I'll take that as a no. Now sign! Both of you! I'm out of patience.” Marquise ordered.

Shanelle had never seen this side of Marquise. He was powerful, unflinching, and relentless. She loved it. Everyone watched as King Constantine and Queen Regina signed and sealed the proclamation without needing any provocation. It was official, Cordonia now belonged to Marquise and Shanelle.

Marquise stood up and helped Shanelle to her feet to formally announce the signing of the proclamation.

“Let the signing and sealing of this proclamation signify the full dissolution of the kingdoms of North and South Cordonia, to make way for the creation of a new unified and united Cordonia. Per the betrothal agreement, all now former Monarchs will be allowed to keep their duchies both by birthright and by marriage, any summer homes, and whatever business holdings if any, they should have. Also, each former King and Queen shall receive a curated monthly living stipend. In terms of the palace in Cloutier, it will be turned over to Shanelle. The former Monarchs of the now dissolved South Cordonia will be given 90 days to vacate the property. After which, Shanelle will take full ownership of the palace.” Marquise announced.

Shanelle had to hide her excited smile as Marquise continued.

“In addition to the signing and signifying of this proclamation, Princess Shanelle Dominique Miller, Crown Princess, and Heir To The Throne of South Cordonia, and myself, Prince Marquise Constantine Rys, Crown Prince, and Heir To The Throne Of North Cordonia, do hereby officially renounce our titles as Prince and Princess. Henceforth, we will be the new King and Queen Regents of Cordonia until we are married. Where we will be the official King and Queen of Cordonia.”

Shanelle couldn't believe it. They did it.

“This proclamation will be entered into permanent record within the Hall Of The Royal Archives,” Marquise said as he handed the proclamation off to the attendant. He then turned his attention to his fiancee who was bouncing on the tips of her toes.

“Congratulations my love. We did it.”

Shanelle threw her arms around his neck while squealing excitedly.

“Oh, My God! We did it! This is real! I'm going to be a Queen. And you…you’ll finally be King. Marquise this is happening. It's no longer a dream! It's real!” she exclaimed.

He brought her left hand to his lips for a soft kiss.

“Indeed it is my Queen. I couldn't have done this without you. The future of Cordonia is bright all because of you.”

Genevieve scoffed.

“I hope you two are so proud of yourselves! Because if this dream of Cordonia of yours falls, which it ultimately will, you'll only have yourselves to blame.” she sneered at them both.

“Poor former Queen Genevieve. Upset you won't have any of the people’s money to spend on new gowns?” Marquise mocked.

Edward and Genevieve both stood up furious.

“Don’t you ever mock my wife, you simpleton! Our kingdoms have thrived and survived for decades thanks to our leadership!” Edward shouted at Marquise.

“You mean the kingdoms have suffered, you selfish son of a bitch! Maybe if you took your head out of your ass for once you would see that people are suffering! You four have done nothing but bleed the people dry and forced them to bend a knee! The nobles run amok because of each of you. Because of the incessant greed of the four of you, it is now our job to prevent a war from destroying the only home many of us have ever known! All while we will have to fix an economy you all have all but bankrupted!” Marquise snapped back.

“We don't have to sit here and be insulted by you!” Genevieve shouted.

“But if you leave now, you'll miss dessert.” Shanelle quipped.

That was all it took for Queen Genevieve and King Edward to storm out of the dining room without looking back. The two shared a mischievous grin.

“Now that all that ugliness is over, I think it's time you and your father sat down and talked. Don't you?” Marquise asked Shanelle.

Shanelle looked over at her parents and smiled wistfully.

“You're right it is time.”

Marquise nodded before they walked over to her parents.

“Marquise you were fantastic! I have never seen those two more embarrassed.” Shantel said to him.

He smirked then bowed slightly.

“Thank you, Duchess. I don't get to do that very often.”

Shanelle shook her head.

“I came by because I think it is time that your daughter and husband sat down.”

“You're right. This has gone on long enough.” Shantel agreed before speaking to her daughter and husband, “it's time to end this.”

Damien and Shanelle just looked at each other before Damien awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Why don't we go out into the courtyard?” Damien asked.

“I think that's a great idea,” Marquise answered.

Damien nodded before opening the door for his wife and daughter. As he watched them walk out Marquise tapped the older Prince on his shoulder.

“Fix this Damien. They are all you have.”

“I know Marquise. I thank you for what you've done.”

“I'll see you whenever you’re done.” Marquiss before he stepped away.

As Marquise went to walk out of the dining room, he was stopped by Constantine and Regina.

“We need to talk. Now!” Constantine demanded.

Marquise rolled his eyes.

“Since you’re not going to stop pestering me, let's go,” he replied to his father.

He followed the elder couple down the hall, past the throne room to the Elder Rys’s office. As they walked Marquise noticed Connie’s stride was a lot slower than normal. Once inside Marquise took his usual seat across from his father.

“I'm here. What do you want?” Marquise asked, clearly annoyed.

“That was quite a performance you gave, my son. Very compelling. It's almost like you were trying to humiliate me.” Connie replied.

“I was. Because you definitely earned it.”

“You're not amusing Marquise.” Connie sneered.

“Not to you anyway.” Marquise shot back.

“Your attitude is starting to test my patience, boy.”

Marquise scoffed.

“Good.”

Constantine balled up his fists and shook his head.

“I have been trying to talk to you for weeks and you've done everything to avoid me.”

“That's because whatever it is you want to talk about is personal. And I don’t care for or about your personal affairs.”

“You need to.” Constantine insisted.

“No, I don't. But since you have me here, what is it?” Marquise asked.

“It's about the surgery for my cancer,” Connie replied.

“The one you had 9 weeks ago? What about it?” Marquise asked.

“It wasn't successful. The cancer has metastasized to my liver. It's inoperable.” Constantine replies.

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning it's terminal. I only have 6-8 months left to live.”

“So you’re dying?” Marquise asked.

“Yes, my son. I'm dying.” Connie replied.

“Why are you telling me?” Marquise asked.

“Because you deserve to know that your father is dying,” Regina replied.

Marquise nodded then shrugged.

“Good. The sooner you die the better.”

Regina and Constantine reared back.

“How can you sit there and say that?! He is your father!” Regina snapped.

“Because I don't care! That's how. I have nothing for him. No love, no compassion, no empathy, and certainly no sympathy. Why? Because he doesn't deserve it. And that is a sad commentary in and of itself. I should be mourning my father. Hell, I should be terrified of losing him but instead, I can't fucking wait for him to die. And do you know whose fault that is Regina? That's his fault. After all these years of him being a piss poor excuse of a King, a man, a husband, and especially a father, because he would much rather spend his time being a self-centered, greedy, calloused, drunken whore, his karma has finally caught up with him and it's now biting him in the ass. ” Marquise replied.

“You can't wait for me to die?! Are you really that damn callous, boy?” Constantine asked.

“I learned from the best. And the best at being a callous bastard is you.” Marquise replied. “Now as the King Regent, I will do what I need and have to do to ensure your final days and months, whichever comes first, are as comfortable as possible for you. And when you do eventually die, I will honor Cordonian tradition and give you a state funeral. But that is as far as I will go.”

Connie just stared at Marquise.

“Are we done here?” Marquise asked.

Constantine shook his head.

“Good. Now if you two will excuse me. I have better things to do than look at the two of you.” Marquise said as he got up and walked out. When he got outside Constantine's office, Margo was waiting for him.

“What happened?” she asked him.

“According to him, he's dying, mom,” he replied.

Margo was shocked.

“Dying?! But what about his surgery?”

Marquise shrugged.

“Apparently, the surgery didn't take, and the cancer metastasized to his liver. He has maybe 6-8 months left to live.” Marquise replied.

Margo looked at him.

“How do you feel son?” she asked.

“I don’t care. I wish I could but I can't force myself to care about someone who never cared for or even loved me,” he replied.

Margo looked at the office door before shaking her head.

“Walk with me?” she asked him.

“Anything to get me away from this damn door,” he replied as they began to walk. Soon when they were as far away as possible from Constantine’s office, Margo finally spoke.

“You know you can always talk to me and tell me what it is you’re really feeling, son,” she said to him.

“I know.”

“So what are you feeling Marquise? And don't say it's nothing. Because I know you well enough to know that isn't true.”

Marquise stopped mid-stride, closed his eyes, sat down with her on a side bench, then took a deep breath.

“I feel conflicted. I feel…a sense of relief. Because soon it'll all be over. I feel angry. I feel cold and callous. I feel resentful. I feel disgusted. I don't feel sad. I don't feel mournful. I don't feel sorrow. I don't feel scared. And I should mom. I should feel something because my only living parent is dying. But I don't. Whether he dies today, tomorrow, 6 days, to 3 months from now. I won't mourn him. I can't.” he replied.

Margo wrapped him in a motherly hug.

“Despite my feelings about Connie, I do hope one day that you'll be able to truly forgive him.”

“I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you.”

Margo shook her head.

“You're even more stubborn than an ox.”

“Moooooooooo!”

She rolls her eyes with a chuckle.

“That's a cow.”

Marquise snickered.

“You love me, mom.”

“Yes, I do.”

The two continued their walk back to the main dining room. When they got to the dining room, they saw Damien just standing at the window. With an encouraging nod from Margo, Marquise walked over to him.

“I thought you were fixing this Damien.”

Damien sighed.

“I am. I just…I don't know what to say to her. I'm scared that she'll never forgive me.”

“How do you know for sure?” Marquise asked.

Damien chuckled dryly.

“You're right. I don't.” Damien replies.

“Exactly. Now I can't tell you how she will react but I can tell you this, she loves you and God knows she misses you. So get out there and talk to her.”

Damien looked at him and then nodded.

“Thank you, Your Regency. Maybe you won't be such a bad son-in-law after all.”

Marquise rolled his eyes.

“Going now. Thank you again.” Damien said to him before stepping out into the courtyard.

When Damien stepped out into the courtyard, his heart seized. There were his girls sitting together on a bench. The two women he would stop the world on its axis for. They were beautiful, smiling, and laughing with each other.

“I can't tell you how excited and proud I am of you, baby. You’re going to be a Queen. My daughter is going to be royalty.” Shantel said to Shanelle.

“I mean technically I already am royalty mom.”

“Oh, girl! You know what I meant!”

The two laughed. When Shantel looked up, there was her husband.

“Well well. Look who finally decided to join us instead of being a creep lurking in the shadows. Come sit.”

Damien sat down next to Shanelle who had a restrained look on her face. That look changed when Damien held out his right hand to her. She slipped her left hand into his waiting hand with a small smile. Damien cleared his throat before speaking.

“A Queen. My beautiful, smart, incredible daughter. The one who used to fall asleep underneath my desk when she was little is going to be a Queen,” he spoke softly.

“Just the way you wanted Daddy. Your hard work paid off,” she replied quietly.

“I think you mean all my scheming paid off.”

They laughed before Damien looked at her remorsefully.

“I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. I had no right to treat you the way that I did. I was cold, arrogant, and callous. I had no right to be. Especially to you and your mother. You are the light of my life. The reason my heart beats. I have been in love with you since the first time I held you in my arms. And God knows I have missed you so much. My beautiful Princess will now be a stunning Queen. I am so proud of you.”

Shanelle looked at her dad with tears in her eyes.

“I miss you my darling. I miss you so much. I have been so sorry. I hurt you and your mother in the worst way possible. And I can not tell you how ashamed I have been. With both myself and my actions. All I can do is beg you for your forgiveness.”

Damien rubbed the knuckles of her left hand, toggling her engagement ring.

“When Marquise called last week and said that the transfer of power would be happening I was so happy and excited for you. And when he said that we were invited I couldn't wait to leave. I had to see you. I had to hold you again. I had to apologize to you for my callousness.”

Shanelle threw her arms around her father and hugged him while crying.

“I've missed you, Daddy. I've missed you so much.”

“I've missed you too, my darling. You and your mother are the only things in this world that will ever matter to me.”

When Shanelle looked at her father, she smiled softly.

“I forgive you, Daddy. I know that at that time you were under pressure from your brother.”

Damien shook his head.

“That is no excuse. I will never forgive myself for the way I acted. I love you so much, my beautiful girl.”

“I love you too Daddy.”

Shantel let out a sigh of relief. This is all that she wanted. She wanted her family back together and she was getting her wish. Marquise watched from the dining room with Margo at his side.

“They look so happy,” Margo said to him.

“I hope they are. I know how much having her parents here means to Shanelle,” he replied.

Margo patted his arm.

“You did good, son.”

“Thank you. Now there's just one thing left for me to do.”

“What?” Margo asked.

“Asking her parents for her hand in marriage,” he replied.

“You didn't ask her parents for her hand?” Margo asked.

“At the time we got engaged, she and her father weren't on speaking terms mama,” he replies.

Margo reached up and hit him upside his head.

“Ow! Stop that!”

“What are you waiting for, son? Get out there!”

“They're having a family moment mom. I don't want to interrupt.”

Margo put a hand on her hip and gave him a look.

“Yup. Going to ask for her hand in marriage.”

“Good boy. I think I'll join you so you don't mess this up.”

Marquise gave her a look.

“I will not mess this up!” he protested.

“Less talking, more walking Your Regency.”

“You are so mean!”

“I'm your mother. If I wanted to be nice to you I wouldn't have raised you.”

Marquise shook his head with a smile as he opened the door to the courtyard for her and they walked out.

“Hello everyone! I hope His Regency and I aren't interrupting.” Margo said as she and Marquise greeted them.

Shanelle smiled at Margo.

“No, not at all. Let me introduce you to my parents. This is my father Prince Damien Miller and my mom Duchess Shantel.”

Margo bowed politely.

“It's been a long time since we've last seen each other, Your Highness. It's good to see you. Your daughter is an absolute joy.”

Damien smiled proudly.

“Thank you, Margo. It's good to see you again as well. How is George?” Damien asked.

“My husband is doing quite well, thank you. He continues to be a throne in Constantine’s side.” Margo replied.

Damien nodded with a chuckle.

“That sounds like George.”

“I didn't know you knew George and Margo, Daddy.”

“Yes. They've always been amazing.”

Marquise cleared his throat before addressing Damien.

“I'm glad you all have had this time alone. But I have a question to ask you, Your Highness.”

“Yes, Your Regency? What is your question?” Damien asked.

“I would've done this when we were back in America, but that time was tumultuous. So I am formally asking you now. I would love to know if I have your and her mother’s blessing to have your daughter’s hand in marriage.” Marquise replied.

“Seriously?” Shanelle asked.

“Yes. It's tradition for the Regent to ask their bride’s parents for her hand in marriage.” Damien answered her before turning his attention to Marquise, “on behalf of my wife, Your Regency you may have our daughter’s hand in marriage on one condition.”

“Name it,” Marquise said.

“Normally I would be the one to walk her down the aisle, but instead, I want to greet her at the end. If you and her will have me, I would love to officiate your wedding.”

Shanelle looked at Marquise with a hopeful smile.

“I accept your terms, Your Highness.”

“Welcome to the family, Your Regency.”

“Likewise, Your Highness.”

The two smiled at each other before everyone headed back into the palace. That night Shanelle was snuggled up with Marquise, gazing at her engagement ring.

“What a day,” she said with a sigh of contentment.

“Indeed my love. We accomplished a helluva goal.”

“We're the regents now. Connie and Edward are no longer in power. Or at least they don't have a lot of power anymore. They haven't become figureheads yet.”

“True. We have a lot of responsibility now. It is up to us to form the new Monarchy. To make or break policies. To balance the scales between the nobility and the people. To be the voice of and for the people.”

Shanelle whistled low.

“That's a whole lot. But I think we will manage.”

Marquise nodded.

“Yes, we will. No one expects you to know everything about politics, love. Least of all me. But I believe in you and your VERY strong determination.”

She smiled softly at him.

“I never did thank you.”

“For what?” he asked.

“For bringing my parents here. I know you didn't do it just for the transfer of power,” she replied.

He held her closer.

“You're right. I didn't. There was no way you were going to go on without seeing them. Especially your father. You two just needed a tiny nudge in the right direction.”

“Yeah. We did. I've missed him. And I think I punished him enough.”

“And now that you have your kingdom, it's time to show off.”

Shanelle snorted.

“How?” she asked.

“The Derby is this weekend. And your friends will be here. So now is your chance to show Cordonia who you are, my Queen.” he replies.

“I can't wait for the girls to get here Friday. We are gonna have so much fun. Having them and my parents here means the world to me.”

“Good. I'm glad to hear it.”

Shanelle sighed contently.

“I don't like how my dad went about all of this, but he was right about one thing. I deserve this. I deserve you.”

Marquise kissed her forehead.

“Indeed you do.”

Shanelle drifted off to sleep listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

The next day she and Marquise were in the palace gym having a sparring session with blunted swords.

“Are you ready my love?” he asked.

“Let's go!” she replied.

Marquise lunged at her with practiced ease. Even though he had more experience, Shanelle didn't give up. She was able to parry, dodge, and evade his attacks. While getting a few shots of her own in.

“Okay. So you’re not as bad as I thought,” he said.

“I took fencing lessons as a kid. I hated them but I took them.”

“It shows. You have some things to work on but so far you're good.”

“Thank you.”

“Should we continue?” he asked.

“I'm game,” she replied.

They continued to practice until both were sore, with Shanelle holding her own.

“Alright. Let's take a break,” he said while catching his breath.

“Well now, it seems like I've impressed His Regency. I must be doing something right.”

Marquise shook his head before taking a drink of water. When he put his bottle of water down he noticed Shanelle staring at him.

“See something you like, my love?” he asked.

“Maybe,” she replied.

She bit her bottom lip when he flexed his bicep with a smirk.

“You sure?” he asked.

Just as she went to answer, a voice answered.

“Like she would ever be able to appreciate the way you look.”

Shanelle rolled her eyes as Naya walked up.

“Shouldn't you be at home with your husband instead of fawning over my fiance?” Shanelle asked.

“And this is how I know you'll never be an effective Queen. You don't even know the rules of the palace.” Naya replied.

“If you got something to say to me, please speak your mind.”

“Oh, believe me, I've got plenty to say to you. First of all, I am a guest of King Constantine. I have his permission to come and go as I please. Second, the palace gym is open to all nobility. Not that some common American mutt like you would know anything about being a noble. Hell, your father isn't even a good one.”

Shanelle stepped to Naya and got in her face.

“Don't you EVER mention my father!” Shanelle growled.

“Why not? He's almost as bad of a noble as you are. And don't get me started on how disappointing your grandparents were as Monarchs.”

That's when Marquise jumped in between them both.

“That is enough! Both of you!”

“Nah. Little Miss over here wants to drag my family so I’m gonna drag her fucking face.”

“Such a nasty thing you are. You'll never make it with the court with an attitude like that.” Naya sneered.

“That's it,” Shanelle said before she tried to jump over Marquise.

“Shanelle stop!” he said to her before turning to Naya, “why are you here?”

Naya threw up her hands in mock surrender.

“I just came to work out in the gym. That's all.”

Marquise let out an explosive breath.

“Translation: you pestered Alex and Bastien about where I was and you thought you would walk in here, bat your eyelashes, and I’d fall for it.”

Naya huffed.

“But since you’re here, the gym is yours, Princess. Have a good workout,” he said to her before dragging Shanelle out of the gym. When they got outside the gym Shanelle was ready to fight.

“That bitch! Who the fuck does she think she is to talk about my family like that?!” Shanelle seethed.

“I know you’re angry. You have every right to be but I need you to calm down.”

“I'm calm. Or at least I will be once I beat her ass.”

Marquiss steered her away from the gym.

“Not here. There are too many people on her side. They'll turn the court against you.”

“…fine.”

“I understand your anger. And Naya has a way of getting under the skin of people. But I don't want you to be seen as hostile toward others that you don't like. Because there will be people in court that you won't like. And as infuriating as Naya is, she still has considerable sway with the court. And she knows how to wield it.”

“So what you're saying is try to use her ego against her?” Shanelle asked.

Marquise shrugged.

“I didn't say anything,” he replied.

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