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wardenparker · 9 months

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Vampire Waltz - ch 16

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 14.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* A bit of dirty flirting, some talk about labor pain/injuries and childbirth, lots of fluff. There's a lot going on in this chapter but not much in the way of warnings. Summary: Returning to Newport from New York, Max cooks up a surprise for you before you prepare to return to the future. Not everything will go according to plan, though. Notes: We are almost at the end, folx! I have loved every second of this crazy journey, and this little family will be particularly hard to say goodbye to. As always, please excuse any errors I missed do to sleepiness. This week enjoy a lovely Eddie gif 🧡

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15

In the days following the Astor’s Beechwood ball, you find yourself once again in your old familiar haunts. While Annie flits about in the first throes of wedding planning — the engagement announcement was overwhelming and quite the spectacle — Emmanuel seems to be even more doting and ever present. Max and Yayo have had their heads bent over mysterious vampiric business since your return — you swear you heard them talk about building something but they’re so quiet you can’t be sure — and with no nearby friends to call on you or duties to oversee, you’re just enjoying being settled. The morning room, comforting and familiar, with your tea tray and book are a lovely and sunny place to be while the whole rest of the household buzzes by.

“There’s my darling.” Max sails into the room with a broad, proud smile on his face.

“You look as if you’re up to something,” you assess, although you immediately shift over on the window seat to make room for him.

“I’m always up to something.” He admits with zero shame. His smile turns into a grin and he leans in to press his lips to yours eagerly. “How are you feeling? Are you up for a little trip?”

“How little is little?” Whatever it is, you’re going to say yes. But you still want to know what he has up his sleeve.

“Probably about thirty minutes?” Max asks, rolling his eyes at how slow the horses will take him and you where he wants to go.

You hum, pretending to consider it, but give yourself away with a grin when you lean forward to kiss his nose. “Do I need to change? There are so many damn rules for what I’m supposed to wear and keeping track is a menace. Thank the gods for Renee.”

“No.” Max shakes his head. The higher hem of your day dress would be perfect. “Although I would change into your boots.” He cautions.

“Hmmm.” Squinting at him in suspicion, you steal one more kiss before shifting forward on the bench. “Alright, I’ll go change my shoes and get a hat and gloves.”

“Perfect.” He smirks. “I’ll have the carriage brought around.” He promises and quickly bounces out of the room happily.

By the time you come down again everything is ready to whisk you away, and even Yayo waves from the library as you pass through the great hall. “I’m very suspicious and very curious,” you tell Max once you��re bundled up beside him in the carriage and the horses start to move.

Max chuckles and flicks the reins. In true nineteenth century fashion, he has learned to drive a horse and buggy as well as ride. The horses that your grandfather have being bred by vampires so they don’t shy away from the predators.

“Just us? No staff?” You had expected one of the covered carriages, not the stylish little open-air phaeton that is essentially a 19th century sports car.

“Just us.” He throws you a grin and leers. “Why, are you afraid to be alone with me?”

“No.” Always honest with him, you cuddle up to his side and throw him a dirty smirk. “But I might fuck you in the back of the phaeton if it’s not too cold wherever we’re going.”

He chuckles. “Maybe that was my plan all along?” He teases and glances back at the road as you make your way back down the row of styles bungalows and mansions.

“Good plan.” You snort, laughing along with him. “Solid. I like it.”

“I thought so.” He beams cockily and slips the lap blanket more securely over your legs.

“Did you have a good day so far?” He’s spent so much time with Yayo since you got back from New York that you’ve basically only since him at meals and in your room.

“Very good.” Max smiles an elusive smile, one that promises that he has a secret. “So good that I want to celebrate with you.”

“Well I know you didn’t find us a way home, since that’s my job.” In fact, you have another magic lesson with your abuela tomorrow after breakfast. It’s how you’ve been passing your mornings since getting back from New York.

“Maybe I did….in a way.” He chuckles and once the homes have given way to trees, he turns down a wagon path.

“You’re being extremely Yayo-like.” The similarities in your grandfather’s flare for the dramatic and your soulmate’s is just funny at this point, and definitely a point for teasing him with. Having Max for Yayo’s protege makes perfect sense.

“I will take that as the compliment it’s meant to be.” He pretends to huff, but the grin on his face gives him away.

Driving a little bit further down the road to wherever, you sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before you hum softly and look back at him. “I was going to save it for tonight,” you tell him with a satisfied little smile. “But I finally got fire lighting down pat with abuela this morning. I can light anything from a candle wick to a fireplace consistently.”

“That’s great!” Max smiles at you, proud of your accomplishment. He knows how hard you’ve been working to control your magic.

“It’s not exactly groundbreaking, but I’m working on it.” You’ve found that your problem isn’t power. You have an enormous amount of power at your literal fingertips now that your magic has been released. Consistency is your issue. Getting reliable and consistent results is the only way to get you back to the future safely.

“Sweetheart, if anyone can do it, it will be you. You have the most determination of anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“You see the best in me.” It’s humbling, the faith he has, but also massively encouraging. Half the time you feel like teasing him about finding a cheerleading uniform but you know it would turn dirty. “And I love you, too.”

“I see the you that you are. Max insists, transferring the reins to one hand so he can pick yours up to kiss the back of it. “Just like how you see me.”

“I like how mushy you are in the 1880s,” you tease, knowing he would be mushy and romantic no matter what era you’re in together.

Max scoffs and rolls his eyes, happy that he’s not fed recently so he can’t blush. “Hush.”

“Nope.” The grin on your face says everything, and you throw him one of the winks he loves to aim at you before turning back to watch the world roll by around you.

It doesn’t take too long to come to a clearing and Max pulls the phaeton to a stop. The coast is right beyond the clearing with its own rocky cliff. “Here it is.”

“Here what is?” Glancing up at him, you bite your lip but raise one amused eyebrow. “Did you seriously bring me out here for nature sex? Because I’m okay with that but I think it’s funny that I guessed.”

Max snorts but shakes his head. “No.” He smirks at you. “But you might want to fuck me after you find out what this place is.”

“So tell me what it is, then.” Something itches at you to get out and explore, but you’re not really sure what there even is to explore. A half an hour in the phaeton has put you outside of the immediate neighborhood of the Bellevue Avenue “cottages” and further up on Ocean Avenue at the very corner of the island. The view of the ocean is brilliant here, sun shining off the water and enough of a hill to put you on top of a breathtaking little cliff-face.

“This….” Max pauses for dramatic effect. “Is the land where that gorgeous little gothic mansion sits back in our time.” He reminds you of the present day home. It was never opened to visitors and privately owned although no one ever knew quite who owns it. “Our future or past, home.”

“Wait…” Your attention snaps back to him and your eyes widen in recognition. “Seacliff? The one that looks like a little gothic revival castle?” You had affectionately called it Seacliff Dollhouse when you first saw it, and Allison had giggled, telling Max and Eddie about it when you came home that night. “That’s…it’s our house?”

“That’s our house, sweetheart.” Max nods. “Your grandfather and I decided that if you can harness this time travel spell, then it would be fitting that we have a place to land when we return.” He explains. “The architect finished the plans today.”

"That's what you've been up to?" Tears well up behind your eyes almost instantly, blinking at him in utter disbelief. "Max, I—" You swallow a hiccup, finding yourself completely speechless and then instantly rambling through sniffles a moment later. "Baby, that's amazing! I swear I'm going to work so, so hard to master it and you're going to be so damn proud and have no one to brag to about it."

Max reaches out and cups your cheek. “I’ll brag to myself.” He promises. “When your grandfather showed me the land and he already has it, I just knew that we had built that house.”

"You're absolutely wonderful." Pressing in to kiss him, the urge to explore makes complete sense to you — it feels like the land is calling to you on a basic and magical level. "No wonder they worked so hard to convince my parents to train me as a witch when I was little." You hum, tucking into his side to look around you. "Yayo knew so much about us already. But there are some things that even he can't know about the future."

“Your grandfather knew, but he regrets pushing so hard.” He murmurs quietly. Your grandfather in this time has been more open after learning about the connection.

“At least things can get better.” You squeeze his arm gently. “And my offer to help you reconnect with your family still stands, love. Whether it’s future or past, that’s up to you.”

Max sighs softly and shakes his head. “No.” He murmurs quietly. “I don’t think they would want that. I’ve ignored people my entire life, I won’t ignore their wishes.”

"You can always change your mind." A kiss on his cheek is the end of the conversation for now, and you nod to the small, cliffside acreage in front of you. "So do you want to tell me about the design for the house? Since I've only ever seen the inside?"

"Gothic." Max grins and winks at you. "Gilded Gothic."

"You're going to keep this under your hat until we get back, aren't you?" It's yet more of his flair for the dramatic, and you can't help but smile.

"Claw foot tubs, a reading nook off the library that will have you cozied up every day." Max ticks off some of the highlights.

"At least one room big enough for us to dance in?" You ask, batting your eyelashes hopefully.

"The ballroom will open up onto the balcony overlooking the ocean." He smirks. "I wanted to be able to sweep you out there during a dance."

"Honey." That hopeful expression melts into awe all over again. Sometimes he really just does astound you with how sweet he is in that big, romantic heart that no longer beats. "We're going to throw the best parties," you decide, humming with excitement.

"Of course we are." He promises, looking out over the land and imagining what it will look like in the future. "We will need to make sure we live up to your grandmother's reputation."

"Abuela's reputation and Lina's expectations," you chuckle at the thought. "I have a feeling if I was a disappointing hostess she would sense it through time and show up to correct me."

Max snorts again and nods. "I know she would." He chuckles. "She would follow you around, clicking her tongue and tsking."

"And no one wants to have Mrs. Astor following them around tsking." It's a beautiful piece of land with the ocean stretching out all around you, and conjuring the image of the house in your mind lifts such a wistful sigh out of you that you feel a little sheepish. "I do like it here," you admit after a pause. "But I'll be glad to go back to our own time, too."

"I know." He lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. "I even miss Eddie if you can believe it."

"I do believe that," you huff, rolling your eyes at him. "Pretend all you like, but he is your best friend."

He huffs, acting offended, but he doesn't actually refute you're comment. He can't. Not when he's spent so much time with Eddie over the past few years, he's come to like the perpetually youthful vampire. More than a little, he looks at him like the little brother he should have had. "Whatever."

"Mmhmm." You practically cackle at the way his face twists, hugging his side all over again. "That's what I thought."

"Anywaaaaaaaay." He rolls his eyes. "Do you like this place?"

"I absolutely love it." Shifting beside him, you pull off the blanket that's been covering your laps and grab his hand. "Come on. Let's walk around."

He hops down from the Phaeton and quickly lifts you out of the buggy so you can walk around. "The architect has set the stakes in the grass. We can walk out our house."

"I always wondered how big the house actually is." You've only ever driven past it, turning the corner of Ocean Ave with Max or Allison or the other girls from the coven as you wondered aloud who owned the house or who had built it way back when. Now that you know the answer, it makes the guesses that much more fun.

"Anything you don't like can be changed." He assured you hastily, wondering if you might feel left out of the decision. It's technically a gift from your grandfather, but Max had helped him plan.

"Tell me what you have planned." There's no doubt in your mind that it will be perfect, but you know that he's proud of his surprise and you want to hear it right from him, not from looking at a set of blueprints. Max's excitement always makes your heart skip a beat in the very best way. "I'm sure it's perfect. I just want to get excited with you."

"Surprise, surprise...." Max grins at you. "The kitchen is not in the basement." He whispers, feigning horror. "It's beautifully lined with windows that open to cool it down from the ocean."

"Let me guess?" Waggling your eyebrows a little as he starts to lead you around the border of the house, you shoot him a grin. "Yayo and Abuela's special enchanted glass?" It had been explained to you that the windows at Chateau-sur-Mer were treated with a coating to prevent the vampires living there from being too affected by the sun. Abuela, however, went more in depth with the explanation once you had come back in time. Apparently the coating was something she had created herself, to protect her soulmate.

"Of course." He nods, your grandfather having insisted on the glass being installed in the new home. "He said that it would last through the ages. Another positive is that little boys can't throw balls through the window."

"And if I know your sons, they will absolutely try." Any rambunctious little boys with his dimple and your hair and all of that pent-up mischievous energy are bound to get up to trouble, and it's sweet to imagine now — well before you'll actually have to deal with any of the fallout from it. After all, they'll also be more than half vampire by blood, so who knows what other chaos they'll get up to.

"Before we...go home." Max starts quietly. "I want you to talk to your abuela about what its like." He tells you. "She is the first human to give birth to a vampire's child. Her insight into this is the best you can ask for."

"I will." It's pretty much the most reasonable request in the world, if you're honest, and you wouldn't deny him something so logical. Especially when he's right. Your abuela's insight will be invaluable. "But baby...even if it doesn't ever happen for us. That's okay. There are a whole lot of ways to be a family. It doesn't have to include biological children. After all...there's never been another family like ours before in the history of the world. We can't know how likely it is. Or isn't."

"No...." That's true and it's a bittersweet fact for Max. He laces his fingers with you and pulls you to a stop in the middle of the clearing of what will become a gorgeous little mansion. "But I want you to know what I had imagined when I was human. When I though of 'forever' with my soulmate."

“Okay.” This is obviously a point of some not inconsiderable pain for him, and even though you wish you could just reach into his heart and wipe it away, it’s part of him. It’s part of who he is and you wouldn’t change a single thing about who he is. “Tell me everything.”

"I was an asshole." He can admit it, it was the truth. "I was a playboy and a little wild. Loose as Mrs. Astor would say." He chuckles. "But I believed in my soulmate. So much. I knew that when I found her, you, I was going to do everything I could to make her happy." He rolls his eyes. "I had it all planned out. I would be the hardworking provider and you would be free to do whatever you wanted. Stay home with our four beautiful kids, pursue whatever career you wanted, but I was going to give you everything you ever wanted."

It must be a particular sting then, to his masculine pride, that your incoming and your home — two homes — both come from your family and your inheritance. But it isn't as though you ever planned for that. Or waved it in his face. "You take amazing care of me, love." After all, hasn't he been the one encouraging you to embrace your freedom and to pursue the things you love? Financial freedom may have come from elsewhere, but Max has brought you emotional freedom.

"But up until just a few months ago, I was under the assumption that I could never give my soulmate a family." He reminds you, squeezing your hand tightly. "I know that it's a long shot, or might not happen, but if it can, I want it. I want to be the parent I never had. The support and love that I always wished for." He smiles softly at you. "The kind of life you had growing up."

"Alriiiight..." Your hands travel up and down his arms when you step closer to him, letting his hands slip around your waist so that you can be that much closer to him. "But four kids is gonna be a lot louder than my house growing up," you tell him, a grin sliding across your lips. "I hope Seacliff has five bedrooms in that plan of yours."

"Six." He winks at you with a sly grin. "One for company."

"Planning ahead, I see." It makes your grin split, giggles spilling over one more time. "We'll keep trying," you promise him, hands soothing over the warm fabric of the jacket he doesn't need to be wearing. "If we're lucky enough to have kids, they'll know their magic and their bloodline. If we end up adopting kids through time, we'll make sure the house is always full of life and laughter. Always."

"As long as you are happy." Max worries about that secretly. Always hoping that it will be enough. "That is all that matters."

"I am." You promise him without hesitation. "And you're so much of what's made me happy. It wouldn't be complete without you, love."

"I'm hoping that you mean that." He knows you believe that, so he shoots you a wink and guides you over to large, staked out area. "This is your library."

"I get a library?" He knows you far too well. It's obvious. And although a library is standard in Gilded age mansions, they were usually for men to use and you hadn't even considered that this new house of yours would have one.

"Where else would your reading nook go?" He asks with an indulgent grin. "With windows perfect for a little bat to fly in and out of."

"Best soulmate in the whole world," you giggle madly, burying yourself in hugging him, overwhelmed with excitement about this next step forward with him. "Does my library with its reading nook have a desk for my soulmate to do business at, or did you design yourself a study?"

"There is a decidedly masculine writing desk." He smirks and shakes his head. "No study for me to disappear into, sweetheart. That will be your spell room."

"With abuela Cookie's grimoire and a copy of Lina Astor's right next to each other." Looking up at him, you prop your chin on his chest and grin. "I've decided what deities I'm going to keep on my altar from now on."

"Which ones, sweetheart?" Max has been learning about your religion, but he doesn't have it all down yet. Plenty of years to learn though.

"I thought I would keep the statues of Hades and Persephone that abuela has up." Your hands pause their continual, soothing journey on his arms and you give his shoulders a squeeze. "Sexy and misunderstood representation of living death alongside the goddess of spring? It...kind of reminds me of us..."

He tilts his head curiously. "How so?" He asks, wanting you to explain it.

"Sexy undead guy," you explain, unable to holding in a grin as you point to him. "And girl who really like flowers. And also the sexy undead guy," you laugh, pointing to yourself in turn.

He snorts and rolls his eyes. "Of course." he chuckles. "I'm sexy and you know it."

“Yes I do.” In the chilly October air, you push up on the toes of your boots to kiss him. “I really hope you know how much you mean to me.”

"Maybe you can show me over the next few millennia?" He poses.

“Without a doubt.” You hum, beaming at him and never intending to stop for even half a second.

"Good." He leans in to kiss you again and then turns your attention back to the property. "Now let me show you the ballroom."

“I can’t believe how much you got done.” It’s only been a few days and the notion that an entire house could be designed in that time seems crazy. “Yayo has a vampire architect, doesn’t he?”

"Of course he does." Max snorts. "Apparently he's the best around and your grandfather changed him in order to make sure that the house he wanted for Cookie was completed before your mother was born."

"Of fucking course he did." You practically groan out a laugh as Max steers you toward the area that will be the back of the house. "Of course my grandfather turned the greatest American architect of the mid-1800s." There was very distinctly a conversation with Mrs. Taylor after you had come to Newport about the man who designed and spearheaded the building of the house. And you definitely remember her singing his praises above and beyond normal admiration.

Max chuckles with you and sends you a sly smirk. "I've met him and you aren't going to believe it...but I think he's Frank Loyd Wright. Or he becomes Frank Loyd Wright."

"Are you telling me our house is going to get built during Frank Lloyd Wright's goth phase?" For some reason that just tickles you endlessly, making you burst out into more giggles and hold Max's hand tighter.

"Apparently." He pulls you close in the center of what will be the ballroom and starts to hum a little tune, starting to sway to the rhythm. "And here is where we waltz."

"Our very own ballroom." As perfectly fitted to his arms as the first night you danced together, following his steps is easy and fluid, giving you the feeling of taking a deep and relieving breath.

"Our very own ballroom." He hums, grinning at the idea. "I want to put a design on the floor, haven't figured out what."

"Do you have any ideas?" There has been some beautiful woodwork in the houses you've been inside recently, and you wonder if any of those had given him ideas.

"I was thinking about a symbol. Maybe a protective one for you." He murmurs, blowing a kiss at you.

"Then we had better ask abuela. Mom said she has a lot of experience with runes and things like that." Since the spellbinding was lifted from you in New York, your memory has resettled itself. There were things that were embedded in you — false memories and gnarled half-truths to keep your mind from remembering its magic — that have lifted from your thoughts like a curtain allowing sunrise to shine through. Since then, you've remembered quite a lot. Including how your mother used to do her tarot readings at the dining room table when you were little and how your Yayo would always bring you dancing shoes for your birthday every year. Your childhood doesn't feel cloudy and far away anymore.

"Perhaps the floor will be embedded in something that will aid your time travel." He muses, smirking at the thought. "Something that would bring us to our ballroom."

"A little magical transporter pad in the middle of the ballroom?" You suggest, not bothering to suppress a giggle. "I'll have to incorporate 'beam me up' into my spell work."

"I always loved Star Trek when I was younger." Max admits with zero shame. "Next Generation of course."

"Of course." And of course you fully agree, having watched so much science fiction with your father as a kid. "The Holodeck? A dream come true."

“We have our own version of the holodeck.” He teases. “Time. We will be able to go anywhere if this works. Want to visit Pompeii before the eruption? We can take a day trip.”

"Where would you want to go?" Your dancing has slowed a little but you're still turning around the marked out space that will one day be your ballroom. "When or where? What do you want to see?"

“Anywhere.” He shrugs. “Everywhere. History is before us and behind us. It will be interesting to see it in person.”

The freedom of it is enticing, you have to admit, and you grin as he spins you around. "We're going to have to get really good historical clothing. A whole closet of it so we can go anywhere or anytime we want."

“Who says we don’t already have that?” Max challenges with a grin. “We also didn’t know we had a house.”

"That..." Your eyes flick up to his and you tilt your head, amused at the thought that you might already have a hoard of clothes and souvenirs to dig through in the future. "Is a very good point."

“I’m just full of wisdom.” He teases playfully, right before he dips you low to the ground just to hear your breath catch and your heartbeat speed up.

"Didn't anybody ever tell you not to play with your food?" You tease. He's only ever fed from you once, but you've found yourself thinking about it more and more since that night, and how much more intimate it made your love life.

His brow wings up and he smirks at you. “My food?” He asks, playing coy. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

"You know what I mean." He picks you up again, setting you on your feet, but holds you even closer than before. "I've been...thinking about it. A lot."

“And what have you been thinking about it?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper.

"That..." If you roll your eyes slightly at how dramatic he's being, it's only because the heat of embarrassment is rising in your cheeks a little. "That it was...really sexy..."

“It was sexy, wasn’t it?” He hums smugly. “Two very different parts of my body, buried inside you at the same time.”

"We should definitely do it again soon." If his voice drops anymore it will be in his toes, and it is doing things to you. Very distracting, very horny things.

“How soon?” Max inquires, cock twitching in his pants. He’s hungry, but the blood your grandfather has been supplying has been alleviating that. Although it’s not as sweet as your blood.

"Can you wait until tonight?" A smirk graces your lips, though you can't feel the evidence of his arousal with so many layers of clothing between you. "Or are we actually going to fuck in the back of that phaeton?"

“I was thinking more of using that blanket and having you sit on my cock while I bite your tender neck.” Max growls. “But we can always wait for tonight.”

"If we wait until tonight, we can take as long as we want, and I you can have me as many different ways as you want." There's the added benefit of being able to be naked the entire time, too, because Max is nothing if not stunningly handsome.

“Fiiiiiine.” He huffs and pouts, but there is a smirk tucked into his cheek. “You are teasing me, knowing how much I ache for you.”

"You're not the only one aching," you promise him. If he could get one hand under all of the layers of skirts you're wearing right now, he'd feel exactly how aching and wet you are at the moment. "I just really like having you naked."

“It is pretty great, isn’t it?” He asks cockily. “Killer abs and all.” He chuckles and spins you around. “Although I love when you are naked more.”

"Then I think it's a really good reason to excuse ourselves after dinner." That big four-poster bed is calling your name. Or rather, it's going to be the place that you call his name.

"Yes, you are exhausted." He tells you dramatically. "Or perhaps you have a headache and require my special attention." He leers and flashes his fangs at you while waggling his brows.

“Very special attention.” You agree with a tone so serious that it circles back again to silly.

“A shot of protein cures everything.” Max jokes.

The inelegant snort that earns from you devolves you both into a fit of laughter right there in the middle of the clearing. “You’re ridiculous,” you pronounce when you finally stop laughing and can breathe again. “And I love you so much.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” From the first time he had met you, he had expected you to be prime and proper, but you are delightfully dirty when you want and you love his sense of humor.

“Show me more of the house?” You’ll stay out here in the chilly ocean breeze with him all afternoon, dreaming and scheming about all the things the future has in store. But you definitely also want to see the outline of the house the way he’s imagined it.

“Our dinning room is off the ballroom.” He explains, moving towards the east side of the stakes. “So the buffet tables can be replenished by the kitchens easily.”

“Are you already planning our first party?” Sure you’re teasing him, but you know what you would choose for it to be.

“I think we have to have a party.” He huffs, eyes wide. “Don’t you? Unless you want this to be the mysterious house that everyone is dying to see and never do?”

“We’ll enigmatically say it’s been in the family for a long time,” you suggest with a grin. “We have to throw a party.”

He chuckles and nods. “That was my thought. Your grandfather has taught me about establishing new identities when our will become “too old”. On paper at least.”

"He's enjoying having someone to pass all of his knowledge down to." Even if you don't know your grandfather too intimately, you certainly can see the pride on his face from spending time with Max. It's the same expression he has with Emmanuel, and you suppose for very similar reasons.

“He could have started the training a little sooner.” Max huffs, shaking his head. “Feel like I’m back studying for my MBA.”

“And since he knows exactly how well you did studying for that MBA, he knows how well you’ll do now.” The outlines of the house are well marked, and when you come to the edge of the dining room he leads you along the demarcation of what you assume will be the great hall. “It wouldn’t be a Yayo-approved level of dramatic reveal if he had started with you sooner.”

He rolls his eyes only because he knows it’s true. “Can’t spoil the surprises.” He snorts.

"Never," you laugh right along with him. "Gods forbid."

The tour of the upstairs is less concrete, more just telling you about the living quarters of the little gothic castle he is building for his witch soulmate. Explaining it to you in vivid detail.

The two of you spend hours out there, walking every inch of the property and dreaming over every detail. It's a fairly remarkable feat of planning, but it sounds marvelous, and by the time you're bundling back into the carriage with Max, you can't stop smiling.

“So, what do you think?” He asks as the Phaeton is turned around and headed back towards your grandparents house. “Too much? Or just right?”

“For us?” You loop one hand around his arm as he steers the horses and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’d say absolutely perfect. It can be grand when we want it to be and intimate for all the other times. Dramatic but comfy. That’s perfect for us.”

“That is what I want.” He admits. “Plus, building in this era, hopefully the building will last for hundreds of years for our adventures.”

“Do you think…” Shifting beside him, you look up at Max seriously. “That…I ought to tell abuela and Mom? Not who I am but…where we came from? Otherwise won’t they be wondering why we’ve suddenly disappeared but are building a house?”

“Your grandfather will tell them after we go home.” He and Max had a long, serious conversation and had come to the conclusion that was the best course of action. That way the time could be enjoyed without questions that might give away your identity and somehow change the future.

“You two have talked through everything.” And you’re grateful for it. Otherwise the anxiety of the whole situation might have kept you from making so many wonderful memories.

"I know it seems like we are planning your life for you." Max reaches for your hand again. "If you want to be included, I will talk with your grandfather."

“Honestly?” You shrug a little, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “I don’t mind having you look out for me. Making sure I’m safe and putting a literal roof over my head? It’s comforting. I had…all those years there where there was no stability. Anything could be gone in an instant. So this? This…feels pretty amazing, if I’m honest.”

"As long as it doesn't feel controlling." He murmurs quietly. That was his worry, to somehow make you feel like you are back under someone's thumb. His own thumb rubs the back of your hand gently. "You are my partner. My equal in everything."

“And I know that if I said something made me unhappy, you would fix it in a heartbeat.” You grin at him, setting your tongue firmly in your cheek. “Even though you don’t have one.”

"I do when I kiss you." He can't help but lean in to press his lips against yours just to feel it. He grins against your lips and hums happily when he feels that bump in his chest.

"Watch the road, baby." Even as you hum it, you can't help giggling quietly.

"I can drive and kiss my soulmate at the same time." He huffs, rolling his eyes at you dramatically and sighing. "Fiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnneeeeee."

"You can, but I don't want to have to explain to my grandfather that his phaeton got overturned on the road because we got handsy," you tell him with a guilty grin, knowing it will happen.

“You’re right.” It grates that you are right about that, but he knows he can’t keeps his hands off you when he want to touch you. Especially now that a certain step has been taken.

Instead of letting him pout, you flash Max a grin instead. "Quickie before dinner?"

“Absolutely.” He smirks and winks at you. “Want to see if we can set a record for how fast you cum?”

"We need to keep a tally of what the fastest really is." It's like dangling the carrot of a challenge in front of Max, and you know he can never resist a challenge. "Just for fun?"

"Timers." Max huffs. "Why can't they have timers in this era that are accurate to the millisecond?"

"I'll wear your Apple Watch when we get home," you tease him. Max is always so cute when he pouts. "See how fast my heart rate spikes."

"I want to time from the moment we enter the bedroom until you are screaming my name." Max tells you with a chuckle.

"That never takes long." He has learned very quickly how to play your body like a finely tuned instrument. Thankfully, one rocky evening of magical interruption hasn't interrupted your desire for each other.

"That's because you cum so easily, sweetheart." He teases, particularly proud of that fact considering that you had said that you never really came during sex.

“Weird.” Particularly lighthearted in your teasing, you roll your eyes at him and laugh. “It’s almost like I respond better to clitoral stimulation and nobody before you knew what the fuck a clitoris was.”

"I studied in school." He winks at you playfully. "Your little clit is my favorite sucker, toy, whatever you want to call it. It's the best."

You toss him a smirk, leaning into his side again as he steers the horses back up the road. “It loves you, too.”

Max eyes you smugly. "I know."

“You’re so fucking pleased with yourself.” It cracks you up all over again, sending you into giggles at his side. Truly one of the best things about how easy it is to spend time with Max is the laughter. “But you’ve earned it, I suppose.”

"You wound me." He pouts. "I've most definitely earned it. No supposing about it."

“Maybe I just like when you prove it to me?”

Throwing his head back, Max laughs. "Of course you do."

******

Your morning magic lessons have persisted. The hours between breakfast and lunch have been spent in the tower with your grandmother and sometimes your mother as they help you to control the powers that have been locked inside you for so long. This morning Annie come upstairs with you after sharing breakfast as a family. Max kissed you goodbye at the table before leaving with your grandfather to go out to the site of the future Seacliff Castle, and your grandmother had been delighted with a morning for you three witches to spend time together.

The smell of herbs fill the air and Cookie hums as she builds up the fire in the hearth for the cauldron that is suspended over it. The quick flick of her wrist and the almost murmured words creates a flame that is powerful and she smirks at it. "Today we will work on healing." She decides. "It can be very useful, especially as the soulmate of a vampire."

"I suspect one accumulates infinite nicks and cuts over hundreds of years," you agree, dutifully settling yourself down on the stool beside Annie on one side of the fire. It's clear that your mother is an incredibly gifted witch, but she is still honing her skills. She might be more powerful than your grandmother one day, but that day has not yet come.

"Max will heal," She gives a small laugh. "I am talking about healing yourself when you soulmate gets too amorous and bites too hard."

"Oh." Even though his saliva heals the wound on your neck whenever he bites you — which he has now done a total of three times and you ache a little just thinking about it — of course there may be a time when he is not so loving and careful. A time when things get, as your abuela puts it, amorous. "I...uh...of course."

Annie looks queasy and swallows but Cookie smirks. "Plus you might be in a position to heal another human." She mentions quietly. “My talents were of great use during the war.”

"I imagine there would be a great many times healing magic might come in handy." You offer, just thinking out loud now. "Including childbirth."

"Childbirth, I would suggest having another witch with you." She advises.

"Goodness." Annie glances at you with worry in her eyes. "I cannot say I look forward to that at all."

"Your father created a tonic." She reminds her daughter and look of utter love as she reaches out and caresses Annie's cheek. "The twenty-three hours of labor it took to bring you into the world was lovely. Like floating on a cloud."

"You may be the only woman in the world to ever be able to say that." Although the bit about it taking twenty-three hours makes you cringe internally. Thinking back, your mother had told you she was only in labor with you for something like five or six. "That makes you very lucky."

“The end was absolutely worth it.” Cookie beams at Annie who huffs in embarrassment. Her mother sometimes overly showers her with affection.

"Truly." You couldn't agree more, but it's for far more reasons than either Cookie or Annie might think.

"Have you and Max had a conversation about children?" She asks, prying slightly but not even embarrassed about that.

It's impossible to admit that you're trying to have children in the traditional way without giving away your bloodline — and therefore telling them that you are related to them in some very direct way — so you cross your hands over your lap and pretend to be quite embarrassed for a second while you decide what to say. "The house that he and Mr. Brown have designed will have several bedrooms," you tell them finally. "We are hoping to be able to adopt many children throughout our lifetime."

"It is always wonderful to be able to do that." Cookie agrees. "There have been several children that my soulmate brought home." She smiles at her daughter. "Although none after we had you."

"Families can take many shapes." You offer, shifting slightly in your seat and generally being glad that no one seems to be pushing the point any further.

"Yes." She gives you a small pat on your arm and then turns back to the cauldron.

It feels oddly patronizing, that pat on the arm, but you brush past it and smile at your grandmother. “So what will we be learning today? Healing, yes, but what specifically?”

"Supernatural injuries." Cookie supplies, just as mysterious as her soulmate at times.

“Vampire bites?” You guess, remembering what she had said earlier. “Singeing yourself with magic?”

"There can be a host of different injuries that can come up from having a vampire for a soulmate." She's speaking from experience but she won't gross her daughter. "I'm sure you understand what I mean."

“I…might have an idea.” There’s a chance she’s referencing rough or at least energetic sex, and you determinedly don’t want to think about your grandparents fucking. Clearing your throat and nodding, you just try not to look uncomfortable. “Although I’m not sure I understand how that could result in an injury.”

"Mother." Annie hisses the word, clearly mortified since she knows what her mother with say. Cookie ignores her daughter and gives you a small smile. "There is a reason that I have only had one child." She admits. "I cannot physically carry anymore."

“I see.” Obviously this isn’t something you had ever known before, and you look between both women sitting with you. “But…you are healthy now, are you not?”

"Unfortunately, my magic was not what it is now, nor did I have the potions I have." She sighs sadly, knowing that she would have loved a large family but it wasn't to be. "When I healed myself, it was poorly done and I have accepted that my darling Annie will be my only child."

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” The realization that you might have had aunts or uncles comes out of nowhere. It wasn’t something you had ever considered, and now the loss feels something real and tangible. “It’s very generous of you to share your knowledge.”

“I believe that it is my job to care for the potential mates of my husband’s kind.” She murmurs softly. “Especially when they are young, vampires are not aware of their strength, their hunger.”

“Their own strength can surprise even them.” Some of the stories that Max has told you have made that pretty clear. It’s easy for young vampires to get carried away or not realized how far they’re pushing.

“Yes.” She nods, “so it’s safe to say that a strong healer as a partner goes a long way.” Annie cuts her eyes away and doesn’t say anything, but it’s obvious she’s not interested in the conversation.

“And a well-rounded witch is an asset to any coven. Especially a strong one.” Trying to include Annie in this feels almost foreboding considering you know what will happen to Emmanuel, but it isn’t your place to say. It isn’t your place to get involved at all.

“Exactly.” Cookie beams in approval, happy that you understand and share her outlook. “Unfortunately, if you don’t use your magic, it tends to be unreliable so practice is always needed.”

“As I have learned.” In fact, it’s something of an understatement. Last night you came so hard that you started shimmering — that had been an adventure.

“So, we will make ourselves some tea, and then we will work on the spells and potions.” Cookie decides.

“I’ll make the tea,” you offer, moving from your seat to the small side table your abuela keeps stocked in the tower with various kinds of tea and a heavy cast iron kettle that hangs over the fire. It’s good practice for you to conjure the water necessary to fill the kettle, and each time you’re proud when it's a little easier.

“Thank you, my dear.” It’s cozy, the three of you. It feels right in a way that she can’t quite describe. Her soulmate has encourage her to spend as much time as possible with you and it is a task she performs happily.

In the quiet of the moment, there is a sinking of your heart. It's less than a week now until the Samhain ball and you and Max have selected that night to travel back to your time — after a few secret test drives of your time travel magic where you successfully jumped a few minutes into the future each time. "I...wanted to speak to both of you." You say finally, looking between them with your hand hovering over the heavy kettle as your magic fills it steadily with water. "If I might?"

Looking up from her own work, Cookie senses that there is something bothering you. Something that you need to get off your chest. She abandons the herbs and motions you to the table. "Of course," she hums quietly. "Whatever you need to say, we will listen."

Rather than abandoning your task, you finish filling the kettle and put it on the heat before sitting down. The time it will take the boil is plenty enough time to tell them what you need to. "Max and I have been talking," you begin, sitting down between them. "And we think we might leave soon to do more traveling."

"Oh?" Cookie raises her brows in surprise and Annie gasps. "A tour of Europe?" She asks, envy and hope in her voice.

"Perhaps." You nod, glad to see that the harmless lie that you and Max devised seems to be so readily accepted. "We thought we might see as much of the world as we can while the house is being built. Though...we do not know how long that will take."

"Travel does take time." Cookie hums, smiling slightly. "It is faster than it used to be. The architect has your plans, and my husband and I will be willing to do any decision making if you would like."

"Max has been working with Mr. Brown on all of the plans, I have faith that he will be able to make any and all decisions necessary." In fact, you and Max had talked over it and decided that you liked Chateau-sur-Mer enough that you were willing to trust Seacliff Castle to your grandfather while you were 'away'.

"Then you must go and not worry yourselves." Cookie tells you. "You can always send a telegram to inquire."

“But that means…” Annie seems to have come to a conclusion all at once, eyes widening and looking stricken. “I know.” You nod slightly, looking sheepish if not managing downright upset. “It means we will be out of country when you get married.” It was, in addition to taking care of the reason you wouldn’t be around much going forward — an incredibly good excuse. European or world tours by the rich were very common in this time and it provided you with a very convenient out so Annie could not invite you to the wedding that will never happen.

"Oh." Her entire frame seems to wither slightly and she nods, even if she is disappointed. She was raised with better manners than that and her mother would be very upset if she caused a scene. "That's...disappointing."

"I'm so sorry, Annie." Disappointing your mother is not on your list of good feelings in the world, and if it weren't that you know how poorly her engagement is going to go, you would be badgering Max to agree to travel back to the wedding day with you.

"We will just have to visit when you come back and I can tell you all about how married life is treating me." She smiles reassuringly at you, reaching out and clasping your hand gently.

"When we come back we will be very nearby," you promise her. Her hand in yours is the ultimate reassurance, and you squeeze it back just as gently. "And you will have to come and see it, of course. We insist."

"I would love that." She promises, nodding quickly. "I would love to see what you and your soulmate design for a home. Max has...inspired taste."

"He certainly has unique thoughts for the house." Every single one of them sounds fantastic to you, if you're honest, but you won't rub it in now that she's upset about you leaving. Instead, as much as it twists you inside, you flip the topic back to her. "And we will be very glad to see where you and Emmanuel have settled."

“Yes…I’m sure there will be quite a bit of travel.” She smiles dreamily. “A working honeymoon.”

"Have you decided yet where you'll live?" Cookie asks, trying her very best to sound nonchalant but actually very deeply invested in the answer.

“We haven’t decided.” Annie admits. “Emmanuel will need to be close to his family for his business but he also wants to be near you and father.”

"That sounds very much like one house in New York and another here in Newport." Thinking of your mother as one of the fashionable New York society set isn't odd to you at all anymore, and in fact it makes you smile. "It sounds very lovely."

“That is what I am hopefully for.” She admits with a small giggle. “But Emmanuel has also talked about a house in San Francisco, when we have to go west.”

"All the more reason to build here as well." Cookie insists. It is such a terribly modern phenomenon for children to move far away from their parents and she dreads the idea of losing Annie entirely. No matter how happy her daughter might be.

“We will be in Newport often, mother.” She assures her mother, although it’s clear that she’s excited for the future. “Emmanuel wishes to work closely with father.”

"I'm sure that will be very good for them both." You make yourself smile, but hop up from your seat to take the kettle off of the fire and pour three cups of tea.

Annie rolls her eyes playfully and huffs but she’s grinning by the time she’s accepting the tea cup. “One can only hope.”

“Drink your tea, girls.” Cookie smiles approvingly, her own cup in hand before the rolling fire. “And then we will begin.”

******

"I'm nervous," you hum, pacing restlessly around the guest room on the third floor of Chateau-sur-Mer with Max mere feet away as he tries and retries to knot his bowtie in the full-length mirror.

"I am too." He admits quietly, his eyes moving from the bowtie to meet yours in the reflection. "Not the time traveling. I know you will get us home, Dolly." He assures you. "I'm nervous about what they will think by us leaving."

“Hopefully they’ll accept that we were too upset for goodbyes.” The letters you’ve written over the last few days — to your grandparents, your mother, to Emmanuel, to Lina Astor, and to Alice and Cornelius Vanderbilt — all laid out that you and Max are taking your tour of the world couldn’t bear the melancholy of saying goodbye. They thank your dear loved ones for hosting you, for their friendship, and for their kindness. They express the want to see these friends again. They are the goodbyes that you know you’ll sob too hard over if you have to say them in person.

"Only your grandfather will know the truth for now." He sighs, turning around and reaching for you. "I know you will miss your mother."

“We’ll come back.” You’ve already decided that, knowing that Max has also made friends here. This is a place and time you both have found surprising comfort in.

"Once we get back, though, I want to go through all the old bird's letters." Max snorts, grinning at you and giving you something to look forward to.

“All of abuela’s letters and all of the clothes in storage.” You could not agree more. “And all the things that Seacliff has undoubtedly been filled with that we still don’t know the stories of.”

"True." He nods and smiles at the excitement that you will have through the mansion that had been built for you.

“That’s what I have to keep telling myself. That we’ll come back, and that everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.” Instinctively, you move across the room again. This time to Max’s arms. “And that I won’t fuck up bringing us home.”

"You won't." He knows this, even if you continuously worry about it. You hadn't really slept last night.

“You have such unshakable faith in me.” Sinking into his arms helps immeasurably, banishing some of the worst thoughts with the cool touch of his hands on your back. Your gown shows just enough of your shoulders and arms that he can touch your back, which was entirely strategic in your part.

"What I don't have is faith in myself." He confesses, watching a frown bloom on that beautiful face of yours. "No faith I won't whisk you away to ravage in you the in gardens." He adds with a smirk and a cocky wink. "Not when my wife will be the most stunning creature at the ball."

"It wouldn't be the first time we've left a party early to tango," you grin up at him and take the moment as a sigh of relief. "Perhaps that's where they'll think we've gone when we disappear tonight. Just ran away to our bed to indulge ourselves."

“It is a good possibility.” He laughs and slides his hands up and down your back. “Are you ready to go home, sweetheart? Really? If you want to stay….”

"As much as I want to spend time with my mother? It's time." Having gone over it in your mind several times over the last week, you've weighed the selfishness of wanting to stay with historical side effects, the affect in might have on Max, and all manner of other things, and decided that ultimately it is time to go back to the future. "We'll plan to come back when we start to miss it enough, and then we can be excited for it then."

Max nods. He hadn’t wanted to pressure you, but every day you spend in this time is one that you could possibly alter the future. As much as he would love to right every wrong in your past, he needs to keep his word to your grandfather. “We will make it soon.” He promises.

“Let me…” Reaching up, you tug and finesse his tie into place, offering him a soft smile. “There. We should go down soon.”

“We should.” The good thing about this time is that he can kiss you and there’s no lipstick that will transfer. Making him smirk and bite your bottom lip gently after he steals a kiss. “There. Now they are darker.” He teases.

“When we get home it’s going to be transfer-proof lipstick only.” Mostly because any time he nips at you like that you just want to drag him into bed and ride him into the next day — but that’s beside the point.

“Awww that’s no fun.” He sends you a playful pout before turning and offering his arm. “Shall we, Mrs. Phillips?”

“We shall.” You take his arm, but give it a light squeeze. “I’m going to miss that,” you admit, not afraid to say so one bit.

“Maybe when we get back, we can make it official?” Max asks casually, glancing over at you before looking ahead towards the stairs.

"Maybe, he says, like I'm not going to agree immediately." In fact, you're beaming at him immediately, squeezing his arm under your hand and leaning in to his side. "I'd love that. Almost as much as I love you."

“Yeah?” It’s still something of a novelty for him, to be loved so completely. “Maybe we should do that? Something small? In the gardens?”

“Maybe…” you bite your lip slightly and look up at him when you reach the stairs. “Maybe that would be how we open Seacliff? With a little wedding?”

“Really?” His eyes light up and he nods. “We can do that.” He agrees instantly. “A little wedding and a large ball afterwards?”

"Small wedding, big reception?" It sounds exactly like something the two of you would enjoy, and the way your heart skips a beat is so full of joy. "I think it sounds perfect."

“And I get to haul my wife off for some wedding sex.” Max chuckles.

“Your wife is going to insist on it, actually.” You throw him a wink like he likes to do to you as you descend the stairs together. “The party can go all night and so can we.”

“We will have our own party.” He promises with a grin. “After our waltz, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and haul you out.”

“I have absolutely no doubt about it.” Considering his incredible, supernatural strength? He could probably lift the whole house if necessary. “In fact,” you lower your voice, hearing the sounds on the last-minute party preparations or perhaps the first arrivals on the ground floor. “I’ll be begging for it.”

“You’ll be begging for something else.” He jokes, smirking to himself. “Especially after I very discreetly make you cum in front of everyone.”

“Oh really?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”

“You are going to grind down on my knee while we dance.” He explains with a smug tone.

"So no giant ballgown." A decisive nod follows the thought and you giggle. "Got it."

“Would you be too disappointed?” Max asks softly. “Otherwise I can have you wear some vibrating panties.”

"I..." Shrugging slightly, your eyes track up to his and you bite your lip again. Wondering if he'll find your honest answer to be too depressing. "I stopped dreaming about my wedding a long time ago. So I'll wear whatever you want me to and we'll have whatever kind of party you want. As long as I get to marry you, I don't care."

Your answer breaks his heart, and it’s not even beating. “Sweetheart…” Max stops the walk towards the ballroom, pulling you into a small alcove and cups your cheeks. “I- I would marry you at city hall. Just you and me. But I want you to start dreaming again. I want you to feel safe enough to dream.”

"I do. I do feel safe enough." And that is entirely because of him. Or ninety-five percent because of him and five very solid percent because of Mrs. Taylor, who you will never disrespect or disobey for as long as your magically prolonged life allows. "I just...all that matters to me is that you're there. But if you want me to dream? Baby, I'll take Allison dress shopping with me so fast your head will spin."

“I want you to do whatever you want. Whatever that looks like.” He admits.

"We'll talk about it when we get back," you promise him. "I'll dream a little and you'll dream a little, and maybe there will be some parts of the balls we've been to that we'll want to keep for ourselves." Even though your hands are in his, you tug him even closer and press a soft kiss to his lips. "For tonight, let's just enjoy our last night in 1885."

“A toast-less toast.” Max declares softly. “To our last night in 1885—” he poses. “May it be as magical as we wish it to be.”

"Literally." Tongue firmly planted in cheek, you kiss him again — longer this time, to seal the toast — and turn back toward the ballroom with resolve.

“Here goes nothing.” Max hums as Mr. Taylor, resplendent in his butler’s garb for the evening, spots you and quickly opens the door to the ballroom. “Now presenting, Mister and Mistress Maximus P. Phillips.”

You know Max enjoys the little bit of fuss and the formality of being announced at balls, but you will never cease to be amused at how he insists on giving a different version of Max to every different butler or attendant no matter where you go. "Oh, my dears." Cookie is the first to reach you, holding out her hands to both of you and positively beaming. "How resplendent you look. Most wonderful. Come in, come in, I have Dolly's dance card here and I'm afraid you've already been asked after by several ladies, Max. You'll both be most sought after tonight."

“As long as you save two dances for my wife.” He insists. “No- three.” He waggles his brows, knowing how much of a scandal that would be. “If it is acceptable to you, of course.”

"I know you like your waltzes." The older woman hums, smiling at the two of you with her maternal pride. She takes the small pencil that she will tie to your wrist along with your dance card and writes Max's name down for three dances before hurrying you both along. "Go, dears. And enjoy yourselves."

“Shall we check the refreshments?” He asks. If you have a cup of lemonade in your hands, you are less likely to be offered champagne.

"Nothing's better than abuela's lemonade." You hum, keeping the abuela part as quiet as possible.

“I know you love it.” Your grandmother insists on making the lemonade for events herself, claiming it is a secret.

"I bet Mrs. Taylor has the recipe." There's no way that Cookie entrusted it to anyone else, and when you reach the punch bowls — one with harmless, regular lemonade and the other with intensely alcoholic punch – you pick up two glasses. "Who else are you planning on dancing with tonight? Besides me and Annie and Cookie?"

“I figured that if Mrs. Astor shows, I will be required to dance with her as well.” Max shrugs. “If they aren’t you, I’m just going through the motions.” He admits quietly.

“At least with Lina we can say some sort of goodbye.” The older woman had promised in her last letter to bring your copy of her grimoire with her to the ball, so you know that she will absolutely be here tonight. “That’s worth something.”

“Yes it is.” Max reaches up and pinches your chin softly. Apparently it’s an acceptable show of affection in this time. “Just no tears, my love.”

“I’ll do my best.” And that’s all you can promise him. Saying goodbye to your family without actually saying goodbye is going to tear your heart out. At least this time you have the solace of knowing you’ll see them again.

“I know.” He hands you the lemonade that he ladles up and gives you a reassuring look. “I’ll be right beside.”

“Don’t you make the picture of domestic bliss.” Yayo’s voice from behind you cuts through the quiet moment, and the smile in his tone is evident. “Have you been looking forward to tonight?”

“Absolutely.” Max turns and greets your grandfather with a firm handshake. “Your wife puts on a spectacular ball.”

“We’re very grateful to be included.” Hugging him would be an inappropriate show of affection since no one else knows this man as your grandfather, so you have to just accept that a warm handshake is as intimate as anything could be.

“There is no reason why you would not be included.” He reminds you as he looks to see Annie and Emmanuel venture closer. “My daughter is very fond of you.” His lips play into an enigmatic smile. “I wonder why that is.”

“It is so very difficult to fathom,” you tease, offering him a mirror of his own mysterious expression. Though yours quickly slides into a grin. “Though one might say our bond is almost…familial.”

“Hmmm.” He nods and lifts a brow. “I was hoping there was still a spot for me on your dance card for tonight.”

“Of course.” If you’re honest? You would have saved him a dance even without your dance card. After all, Yayo has been a champion of your dancing since you were just a toddler. This version of him doesn’t know that though, not yet, so you simply hold out your dance card for him to sign.

“Good.” He smiles happily and pats your arm. “Then I will see you later on.” He nods at Max and quickly disappears.

“We should find Annie and Emmanuel.” Linking your hand around Max’s arm again is comfortable and familiar as the ballroom grows fuller and fuller. “You should take a spot on her card and Emmanuel should be on mine.”

“I believe that is a must.” Max hum, “I would love to dance with my mother in law.” To the unknowing ear, Max would sound sarcastic, but he really means it. He adores your mother and it’s charming to see where some of your habits come from. Even the ones you aren’t aware of.

"We'll make a nice night of it." And then, sometime in the wee hours of the morning, you'll disappear. And that will be that.

“We could stay.” Max offers gently. If you wanted to stay in this time, he would be willing. Wanting you to be happy.

"I'm beginning to think you want to stay." He's offered multiple times, and you tilt your head at him slightly. "Is that...why you've offered? Because you would rather stay here than go back?"

“Sweetheart…” Max turns back to you and gives a very human sigh. “You shine around your M and GM,” he decided abbreviating them would be better in public, just in case. “I’ve never seen someone change so much- smile so much, laugh. If being here is what makes that happen, I’ll live without my phone, or laptop.”

"Honey..." Blowing out a deep breath, you take his hand and pull him into the library to get away from the commotion and noise of the ballroom. "Max...honey, if I'm shining here? It's because of how much I love you. How happy you make me. I mean...I love being around my family again. More than I can possibly say. But if you told me that you never wanted to come back here again then I would tell Yayo to stop construction on Seacliff immediately and we would just go back to our time like none of this ever happened. I just...I don't think you feel that way. You shine here, too, Max. I don't know if you realize that."

He huffs, shaking his head slightly. Unsure if that was true. “That would never happen.” He tells you, talking about stopping construction. “I don’t care what time we live, I just want to be with you.”

“Are you happy here?” It isn’t an easy question, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s an important one.

“It’s different, quiet.” He admits. “But I think there’s something to be said for the quiet life. Question for you.” He lifts a brow. “Are you prepared to live through history? Atrocities you know are coming, and not do anything about it?”

“Are we talking world wars, or are we talking about my mother?” Either way, the question makes you pause, biting your lip and looking up at him with curiosity in your eyes. “I think there’s something to be said for the quiet life.,” you echo. “For being a part of the movements that will shape history. I think…I didn’t really understand what Lina meant before — about finding where you belong. But this time is good for both of us.”

“It is.” Max acknowledges. It’s not like he has a lot of close friends in his time. “So what are you thinking? Just stay? Go back and tell Allison?”

“What if…” Chewing on your lip again, you step in closer to him to have your arms around his waist and squeeze his hips slightly. “What if…when it comes time for us to be born…we time travel home again? Live right up to our lifetimes and then get out of dodge so we’re not tempted to check in on ourselves? We were going to time travel the night of the Samhain ball, right? So we can just…do that on the Samhain night before you’re born. Right? We’ll still return at the same time we were going to anyway.”

“That’s-“ he’s struck dumb for a second by the sheer genius of the idea. “Genius.” He hadn’t been looking forward to leaving if he was honest. He’s immortal, he has all the time in the world. But you don’t. “You would have to take my blood.” He reminds you quietly.

“I know.” You nod, letting your arms slip around his waist. “And I’ll start tonight, if you’re okay with that.”

“Are you sure?” He knows that you have still been thinking about regularly taking his blood.

“I told you I wanted to spend my whole life with you,” you remind him, voice quiet in the dim light of the library. “I want it to be the longest life we can possibly have together.”

“I love you too.” He teases quietly, reassured by your words. “Do you want to just enjoy the night or find your grandfather?”

“We should tell him tonight.” As much as you may enjoy his — and Max’s — flare for the dramatic, it doesn’t quite work here. “Otherwise he’ll be expecting to find notes on our pillow in the morning and find us instead.”

“That would be interesting.” Max chuckles and leans in. “Considering you will most likely be asleep on my cock.”

He might be right, but your eyes still widen and you instinctively look around to make sure no one heard him. “You’ve never complained before,” you mumble instead, mild and momentarily embarrassment evaporating when you find yourself still alone.

Max smirks and winks at you. “The Phillips cause a scandal wherever they go.” He teases you quietly.

“It’s too bad we can’t cause a scandal being caught together like this.” It certainly has a particular lure to it now…being alone with him like this. “Too married for that.”

“If we stay, we will have to get married for real.” He whispers. “We will tell them that we will the marriage to be blessed.”

“We’ll have to build a whole life. Work and a marriage and even a family.” It will be a miracle if it happens, and even though you tell yourself not to count on it, there is so much hope in your voice.

“I know.” Max nods and the bites his lip. “We would need to wait for kids though.” He reminds you softly. “Otherwise Cookie and Annie would suspect something.”

He’s right, and you know he’s right, but for now you disguise your disappointment with teasing. “I guess you better work on your pullout game, then, Mr. Phillips. No condoms in the Gilded Age. At least not good ones.”

“Need to find the inventor of the Trojan.” Max grunts before he reaches for your hand. “I love you.”

"I love you, too." That is, after all, the crux of everything. No matter what else changes in your life, no matter what crazy things may come in the years ahead, you will always love Max.

Before you go and find your grandfather, there’s one thing that Max wants to do first. He bows formally and looks up at you with a doting expression. “May I have your first dance, Mrs. Phillips?”

"Mr. Phillips," you set your hand in his and feel your whole heart lift. "I insist on it."

“Just the first of many first dances in this time.” Max promises, beaming at you as he straightens and starts to escort you into the ballroom.

******

Research had commenced in earnest the next morning, with Allison setting up her laptop in the library while Eddie began to methodically look through paperwork to see if Max’s name was on anything older than just a few years ago. Through the power of internet research, though, and a few masterful keyword searches, Allison is frowning at her laptop in no time. “There is a Mr. and Mrs. M Phillips listed as part of Mrs. Astor’s 400,” she reports, glancing up at Eddie a few feet away. “But they don’t have a Wikipedia page, of course.”

“That would make sense.” Eddie calls out, bent over a file. It seems as though his sire, or Cookie, was meticulous at keeping records and as a result, there were thousands of pages to go through. “Although God help us all if Max bent some of the most power men in history ears.” He snorts.

“Can you imagine?” She huffs in amusement and shakes her head, eyes returning to her laptop screen. “Your sire taught you both how to change identity to hide your immortality, right? What would he have said about names and things like that? Maybe I can find a pattern in identities that Max would have used.”

Eddie nods. “Yeah. It’s good to keep it close to what you’ve had before. Will yourself the estate, set up trusts, that kind of thing.” He frowns slightly, thinking of the fact that Allison is very much human. “If they stayed….Dolly would have had to take Max’s blood, right? She wouldn’t have…”

“She would have taken his blood.” Somehow Allison is sure of that. Not just from the small conversations and early curiosity you had shown, but partially her own hopefulness at seeing you again. “If they got stuck, or they decided to stay, or whatever happened, he wouldn’t have done it without her. And she wouldn’t have left him.”

“No.” Eddie agrees. “He did a complete turn around with her. It’s amazing.” He twitches slightly and opens his mouth to bring up something that he has been thinking about. A lot.

“They love each other. It’s sweet.” Allison looks up from her laptop to see Eddie watching her intently and her smile turns soft. “What’s up, babe?” She asks, as easy as if they weren’t discussing the fate of some of their closest friends.

“It’s- probably stupid…” Eddie acknowledges that but he watches the woman he has completely fallen in love with frown at the idea anything he thinks about is stupid. Allison has been wonderful for him and he can only hope that she is half as happy as he is. “But this has gotten me thinking.”

“About what?” She’s sure it’s made him think about a hell of a lot of things, but Eddie doesn’t usually bring something serious up until he’s fully ready to talk about it so she shuts her laptop and gives him her full attention. “Is everything okay?”

“We aren’t soulmates.” The fact they don’t share marks doesn’t matter to Eddie, but for all the time they’ve spent together, he’s not entirely sure that it doesn’t matter to her. “It’s- I love you, no matter if we have matching marks or not. And I- fuck, Allison, I’m a vampire, I’m going to outlive you.” He huffs in distress.

“Of course you are.” She tilts her head, wondering how this is only starting to bother him now. Or if it has always bothered him and he has just never said anything. “You’re going to outlive any lover that’s mortal. But…I mean, I don’t have any weird illusions about it, if that’s what you’re worried about?”

“No, but I—” He walks over and takes her hand. “Do you care that we aren’t soulmates?” He asks seriously.

Allison shifts, making room for Eddie to sit beside her in the spare desk chair. “I really don’t,” she tells him honestly, her fingers threading through his. “I only care that we love each other.”

His smile stretches wide, happy that she had said that. “Then I want you to be with me, longer than your lifetime.”

“Eddie…” It stings slightly, what he’s suggesting — or at least what she thinks he’s suggesting — and she shakes her head. “That…it won’t work for us…me drinking your blood will only work if we’re soulmates. That’s…” Allison puffs out an unhappy breath. “Magic has rules. Whether we like it or not.”

“Let me change you.” Eddie whispers, biting his lip after he offers. “He would approve.” He knows his sire would love to have Allison turned, if he could choose anyone.

“Oh, Eddie—” Even as the breath leaves her, her hands tighten in his. The hope in his eyes - the love - is overwhelming, and she has to admit to herself that she really had not ever expected him to offer. For as much as Eddie loves her and she loves him? They had never breached the topic before. But that doesn’t mean she hasn’t thought about it. “That’s…that’s forever, babe. That’s literally forever. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I don’t care about marks, I care about the fact that I love you. I love you so much and I don’t want to lose you to sickness, old age, time.” He insists. “I want to walk through history with you like Max and Dolly are doing back in the day.”

“A coincidentally similar name on a list doesn’t confirm anything, she reminds him, but Allison smiles warmly when she reaches up to cup Eddie’s cheek. “I’ve been so in love with you for years, you know that. And I just…I never, ever thought we’d get to this place.”

“I’ve been in love with you too.” He admits with a grin. “And once I realized that you felt the same, I just wanted to keep you forever.”

"You really mean that?" There are stories, of course. Stories of witches who traded in their ordinary lives for immortality. Some lost their powers, while some saw their abilities increase threefold. It is a gamble that she would have to be willing to take. But for Eddie? For Eddie? It's possible that Allison would do anything.

“Of course I mean it.” Eddie looks at her lovingly. “I think that I was always meant to love you, soulmates or not. And I will love you until the day I am destroyed.”

"We should talk to your sire before we do anything." Her hands are tight in his, holding on to him and completely unwilling to let go. "Make sure that there aren't any hidden catch-alls that could make things complicated before we...before I...before we take the next step."

“I…might have already mentioned something to him.” Eddie flusters and the fresh blood that he had consumed today causes the blush to cross his cheeks lightly.

"Suddenly you being so sure he won't mind makes more sense," she grins at him, feeling that lift and flutter and her heart that is so frequent with Eddie. "I'm sure he has some kind of...absurdly dramatic moment of revelation between us planned for a conversation about it. And then," Allison's stomach flips with happiness. "And then maybe we can mark the occasion somehow?"

“How would you want to mark the occasion?” Eddie asks softly, knowing that he would give her the world. Wants to give her the world, which he technically would with immortality.

"Maybe we can take a little trip?" After all the planning of the ball, and the immense step forward that this will be, Allison might have a little plan of her own in her head. If Eddie truly wants to give her forever? Then she's going to give him a promise of forever as well. "We'll have a little romantic getaway."

“Of course.” He nods, a little disappointed that he hasn’t thought of that himself.

"But first." Leaning forward, Allison presses a kiss to his lips and smiles, radiating that reassuring energy from herself to him as much as she can. "Let's see if we can find some kind of actual trace of these two weirdos in history. When we get burnt out on historical research, we can plan our trip."

“Right.” It feels like the pressure has been lifted off his chest. “There has to be some sort of clue if Max was there. His ego wouldn’t let him go completely undetected.”

"Possibly unfortunate for history, but fortunate for us." With one more kiss, Allison nudges Eddie back to the finals and opens her laptop once more. "I'm going to check New York City census records for the last name Phillips in the 1880s. If they were part of the 400, there will be traces of them somewhere."

Eddie tilts his head in confusion for a moment. “Oh!” He snaps his fingers. “The 400! Mrs. Astor’s list right?” He rushes back over to a book and grabs it before hurrying back over to Allison. Preferring not to use his vampiric speed to not scatter papers around the room.

"It's such a New York thing to have a famous list of fashionable people." She would roll her eyes over it if it wasn't proving so useful at the moment. "What do you have?"

“I actually have a list of attendees to a wedding brunch.” Eddie flips through the pages and frowns. “That’s strange, it says that the couple was already married but wished to have a celebration with friends and family.” He looks up at Allison. “Did that happen often?”

"Sometimes." She chews her lip between her teeth as he opens the journal from the library's files and sets it out in front of her. "I guess sometimes people did small church weddings and then large breakfast or brunches as receptions. Queen Victoria had a wedding breakfast and she pretty much set the standard for everything fashionable in the 1800s."

“Of course she did.” Eddie isn’t as keen on history as you and Allison, so he will have to take her word on it. “Night is better. At least to me. So you can have a garden filled with fairy lights.”

"Fairy lights at night sounds perfect." Snuggling into his side at the desk, Allison starts reading the page with a hum. The list is enormous, but there are familiar names on it. Mr. and Mrs. John Brown, Anne Brown, Mr. and Mrs. William Astor, Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt, Mr. and Mrs. Ogden Goelet, Mr. and Mrs. George Wetmore, Mr. and Mrs. William Watts Sherman. The list just goes on and on. "A lot of these are people who eventually had houses here in Newport." Humming softly as her finger skims the page, Allison gasps when she hits two thirds of the way down the page. "Baby, baby, look at this! The bride's name – it's Dolly!"

Eddie’s eyes widen when he sees your name and then he snorts. “Maxium Edward Phillips.” He huffs as he reads the grooms name. “That’s fucking hilarious. Considering his name is just Max. Not short for anything. And his parents didn’t give him a middle name.” He tells Allison. “He hated that he didn’t have a middle name.”

"His parents sound like they suck," Allison huffs in return. She sits back in the chair though, looking between Eddie and the book on the desk in front of her. "That's...fuck, that's our answer. They got married. They had friends. They made a life. They...they must have stayed."

“So…does that mean that they aren’t coming back tomorrow?” Eddie asks, frowning slightly at the idea that he would never see you or Max again.

"That's what he said and I don't know that he would lie about it." Eddie's sire may be enigmatic and highly dramatic, but as far as she knows he's not a liar. He had said that everyone would be reunited at the Samhain ball and they didn't really have any reason to doubt that. It was just trying to find out what had happened to you and Max in the meantime that was so important.

“Interesting.” Eddie hums, and shrugs. “Then we will continue to believe they will show up to the ball.”

"And in the meantime." Reaching for the book once more, Allison pulls it into her lap and leans back in Eddie's arms with a noise that sounds a whole lot like the contented purr of a house cat. "I'm going to read all about their wedding reception."

“Read it aloud, babe.” Eddie sinks his fingers into her hair and starts to massage her scalp lovingly. “I want to know what to make fun of Max for and what we might want to steal.”

______

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aithorin · 3 years

Text

A Lesson in Possession - All Smite x Reader (18+)

Summary: When you make the mistake of revealing that you find one of the top ten heroes attractive, Smite wastes no time in reminding you that you belong to him.

Warnings: Villain AU, Villain!All Might, Possessive behavior, Dominance, Vaginal fingering, Possessive sex, Unhealthy relationships, Degradation

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30772664

Very much NSFW!

All Might was ignoring you. Intentionally ignoring you. And you didn’t like it. Not one bit. For the last 20 minutes, you’d tried in vain to get him to finally sit down on the couch with you yet to no avail. He just continued to rustle around in the kitchen, seeming to clang together every goddamn pan in existence while looking for who knows what. At any rate, it was clear your attempts weren’t working at all.

Letting out a huff, you turned away from the kitchen to face the television. Raising the volume to drown out all the fucking noise he was making, the newsreporter babbled on about a battle that had happened earlier in the day. The fight in question was between none other than All Might and a horde of the top heroes. But what else was new?

‘Boooooorrrrring’ You droned out in your head. Picking up the remote, you flicked to the next channel only to be met with the same regurgitated garbage from the last. Sitting up straight, a spark of irritation fired through you as you began cycling through all the channels, going through them faster with each disappointment.

“All Might-” Next

“Earlier today, Symbol of Discord, All Might-” Next

“Top hero Endeavor and All Might faced off-” Next

God, was there nothing else to fucking watch? Huffing in frustration, you hit mute before tossing the remote onto the cushion beside you. Crossing your arms, you settled further into the sofa as a small pout crept onto your face. Glaring at the TV, you gave it a scowl that rivaled All Might’s. However, as you kept your eyes trained on the now silent news report, your glower slowly faded into a wicked grin as an inkling of an idea began to take form. You knew exactly what to do. All Might wouldn’t be ignoring you for much longer.

Sitting up, you swung your legs up onto the couch and schooled your features into the epitome of relaxed and unbothered. Slinging one arm over the back, you kept your gaze glued to the TV and called out, “Your fight from today is all over the news.”

A particularly loud clang was all you got in response. That was okay. It was to be expected. On to phase two.

“They’re saying you destroyed half of Kamino Ward. And with five of the top heroes there too! That’s pretty impressive you managed to make it here without a scratch. I guess even the best have nothing on you.”

This time you got a clang followed by a grunt. Okay, so flattery was a no go. Time to change tactics. But no matter, you had saved the best for last.

“Although…” you began, dragging the word out, “While they may not be a match for you when it comes to power, I do have to say that some of them rival you quite well in the looks department. Personally, I think Hawks comes pretty damn close.”

Bringing a finger up, you tapped it against your lips. Amending your previous statement, you said, “Hmmm, wait. On second thought, I think he might actually be hotter than you. He is pretty attractive, you know.”

At your words, all clanging came to an abrupt halt. This time all that greeted you was deathly silence. Reveling in it, your smirk grew tenfold. Checkmate.

Slow footsteps rumbled across the ground, sending tremors through the floors of your apartment. But you wouldn’t let yourself be intimidated. Keeping your eyes trailed on the screen, you refused to look at him, knowing it would anger him more. With the sole intention of pretending not to notice you had just pissed off the number one villain, you nonchalantly picked at invisible dirt in your nails.

Standing in the doorway that separated the living room from the kitchen, you could feel his glare burning holes into the back of your head, but you held steady to the charade.

“What,” All Might growled, “Did you just say?”

Giving a noncommittal hum and schooling your features, you threw a cursory glance at him over your shoulder before turning back to the TV, feigning disinterest. Once you were out of his line of sight though, you couldn’t help letting the devilish grin return. It was all going according to plan. He was absolutely pissed. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him so angry before. Just a couple of words and his aura had darkened so much it cast a shadow over the whole room. With his eyes blazing and his lips curled back in a snarl, his fists were clenched at his sides, trembling ever so slightly in an attempt to keep his anger in check. At any rate, it was clear your comment had gotten his blood boiling.

“Hmmm, what was that?” you finally replied. Looking at the TV, you continued, “Oh, I was just saying that I think Hawks is way hotter than you. No offense.”

Letting out a snarl, he began to stalk towards you. “You’re playing a dangerous game doll. Are you trying to make me mad?”

“No,” you said, giving a small pout, “I’m trying to get your attention. You’ve been ignoring me the whole time you’ve been here!”

“Insolent girl!” All Might growled, “And you thought insulting me was the way to do it?”

“Well nothing else was working!” you said haughtily, crossing your arms, “Besides, from my view, it worked perfectly. You’re certainly not ignoring me now, which is all I wanted in the first place.” Letting the irritation slide off your back, you gave him a cheeky grin and waggled your eyebrows.

Yet your words seemed to have the opposite effect on All Might as his expression grew impossibly darker. Giving you a derisive smile, he sneered. “Fine,” He said, voice sinister yet full of promise, “Have it your way then.”

The change in the air was palpable. Grin fading from your face, you realized that with nothing more than a few words from him, you’d lost all control over the situation. The knowledge sent a wave of nervousness down your spine. There was no denying it. The tables had turned, and while you may have won the battle, you were most certainly about to lose the war. God, you should have just kept your mouth shut. Why did your impatience always land you in such deep shit? Would it really have been so bad to wait another 15 minutes?

You’d played with fire and now you were about to be burned. From the look of All Might’s heated gaze, it seemed you were in for a world of painful pleasure. He’d give you what you want alright, but the bastard would be sure to reduce you to a writhing, sobbing mess beforehand. Yet despite the fact that your head was screaming at you to get away, your body seemed to have other thoughts. To your horror, you realized that the idea of being so completely at his mercy was actually turning you on. Just thinking about it had you shifting uncomfortably in your seat as a dull throb of need began to build in your abdomen.

In a flash, his looming form hovered over you, encasing you with his shadow, and the glow of his blazing blue eyes burned with a smug self-satisfaction at the sound of your breath hitching. Somehow, he’d gotten ahold of your arms, and they lay trapped in one of his hands held high above your head. His actions had caused your shirt to ride up ever so slightly, a fact which had not escaped All Might’s attention. Taking a moment to rake his eyes over your form, you could feel your body heat under his appreciative gaze, tendrils of want slithering through you.

Leaning over you, All Might trapped you with his body, your chests touching. His nearness created a warmth, and with it your heart began to beat ever so slightly faster. Tongue darting out to nervously lick your lips, you waited to see what he would do. With his free hand, All Might came up to swipe his thumb across your bottom lip, getting rid of the moisture you’d just laid there, before tilting your chin up and somehow getting impossibly closer. It was more than enough to unnerve you, and it was obvious he was doing it on purpose. The damn bastard knew you were helpless to resist when he was that close.

Bending down, he pressed his face toward your ear. “You want attention?” He snarled, his hot breath fanning the shell of your ear and sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine, “I’ll give you attention.”

Pulling back, he made sure his eyes met yours. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget that bird brained freak even exists. But first, I’m gonna teach you a lesson, doll. Mark my words, you’re gonna regret opening that pretty little mouth of yours.”

And that was all the warning you got. Leaning down, he captured your lips in a bruising kiss, demanding entrance. But the brat in you couldn’t help resisting. You met him full force, refusing to give him what he wanted, goading him. In response, he growled against your lips before biting down on your bottom one, not hard enough to break the skin but hard enough to surprise you. Releasing a tiny yelp at the shock, he seized the moment to push his way through. In an instant, he had his tongue tangled around yours. And there was nothing loving about the embrace. Rough and bruising, it was pure punishment and you were helpless to do anything about it.

As your need for air began to become overwhelming, All Might started to pull away, leaving a trail of saliva connected to your lips, thinning ever so slowly before finally splitting in half to land against your chin. Chest heaving and yearning to feel his lips against yours again, you sought his touch the only way you knew how.

By baiting him.

Sitting up ever so slightly by wiggling one arm out of his embrace, you propped yourself up on it and gave him a roguish grin. “Is that all you got, big guy?” You asked.

At the jab, he let out a growl. “I’m not anywhere close to done with you, girl.”

Leaning down, he grabbed hold of your T-shirt and tore it straight in half in one fell swoop before doing the exact same with your bra. Letting out a gasp, your exposed nipples began to harden in wake of the cold air, and All Might smirked as you rushed to cover yourself.

“Uh Uh Uh” He tutted, waggling his finger at you, “You know better than that.”

Slowly you began to lower your hand, and All Might let out an appreciative hum. “Good girl.” He purred.

Leaning down, he latched onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the tip before taking it between his teeth and giving it an experimental tug. Your body, desperate for the slightest touch now, responded immediately. Letting out a breathy moan, you arched into his touch, silently begging for more as the sensation sent jolts of pleasure dancing across your chest that headed straight to your core. Smirking in satisfaction, All Might chose to ignore your plea. Grabbing onto your hips, he began trailing his lips down to the waistline of your pants, leaving warm wet kisses with his tongue across your belly while his thumbs stroked the sides of your waist. Arriving at the top of your pants, he reached one hand over to flick them open before sliding them over the curve of your ass, taking your panties with them and leaving your glistening pussy fully exposed.

“Look at you. You’re positively drenched, and I’ve barely even touched you. What an eager little slut you are.” He said, dragging one long finger along your slit.

Gasping at his touch, you watched, entranced, as he pulled his finger away, your juices dripping off of it. Bending down, he held it up to your mouth.

“Suck.” He commanded. Looking down at it, you hesitated just a moment too long, and his face twisted into a snarl.

“I’m not gonna ask you twice, girl. When I tell you to suck, you suck. ” He growled, squeezing your jaw open with one large hand wrapped around your cheeks and pushing his index finger into your mouth.

Tentatively you took the length of his finger into your mouth, wrapping your lips around the base of it. As the back of your tongue touched the pad of his fingertip, the warm, slightly salty taste of yourself met it. Swirling your tongue around the digit, you slowly began to bob up and down on it, thoroughly lubricating it with your saliva.

Letting out a satisfied smirk, All Might purred, “Good girl.” Shoving his finger back in as far back into your throat as he could, you gagged trying to catch your breath as he finally removed the digit, bringing your bottom lip down with it.

“That was for earlier.” He sneered, “Don’t disobey me again.”

And then, beginning from your mouth, he traced a path down your chin with his wet finger, going between the valley of your breasts and the soft curve of your belly. As the wet trail he made quickly dried, you shivered as the dampness met the cold air. Arriving at your pussy, he began to prod at your entrance, easily slipping the digit in.

You couldn’t stop from letting out an immediate moan at the stretch. From one finger, he had already managed to make you feel deliciously full. The mind numbing emptiness your body had been begging for him to satiate was finally being remedied.

Beginning to pump, All Might turned his attention toward your clit. As his fingers thrust inside you, his thumb began to rub slow circles over your clit, pulling all sorts of gasps out of you. Working you open, his pace began to quicken and before you knew it he was slipping a second finger in.

Dissolving into putty at his hands, you could feel your climax fast approaching.

Yes!” you moaned, “Just like that.” You were so close. With one more thrust, you’d be gone. You could feel his fingers pulling out, preparing to send you over the edge, when suddenly they were completely gone, leaving you painfully empty.

Choking from the force of being denied so suddenly, your eyes flashed open just in time to see him climbing off of you. Face sweaty and cheeks flushed, you were an absolute mess. Lost in a haze of need, you could barely even comprehend what was happening. All you could see was that damn smirk on his face.

Unbuckling his pants painfully slow, he seemed to revel in your agony. As he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his pants, a distinct clink floated through the air as his loose belt buckle hit the metal of his pant button. And then in one swift motion, he took his pants off, his cock springing free. Painfully hard and red, it seemed to almost pulsate. Following the line of one thick vein, you saw that the tip was already oozing pre-cum.

Licking your lips in anticipation, you waited for All Might to approach you once more, but he remained standing. In fact, he moved farther away from you, making you want to cry.

Stroking himself, he seemed to completely ignore you as he lifted his other hand to rest on his chin, a thoughtful expression came over his face. “You know, I’ve already been quite lenient with you. Maybe it’d be better to just take care of myself.”

At that you wanted to sob. Nothing in the world mattered more to you than having his cock balls deep inside you at the moment. “Please please don’t do that!” you said, wanting nothing more than to pull him close, but he was just out of reach, and by then, you were too out of it to do anything else but stretch a weak hand toward him.

“Ple-please touch me.” You whined, legs rubbing together, desperately trying to regain even the slightest amount of friction.

Letting out a snort, he taunted, “And give me one good reason why I should. You haven’t exactly been on your best behavior today. Need I remind you that this is supposed to be your punishment?”

“I-I know you want to though.” You said, breathless. Raising your head to look at him through hooded eyes, you purred, “It-It’ll be so good.”

Taking a few steps toward you, he looked down into your eyes. Face becoming almost pleasant, he questioned, “You want this? You want my cock?” As you watched him stroke himself, you eagerly nodded. You wanted nothing more.

In an instant, his face turned dark once more as he growled, “Then beg for it.”

At that, a look of confusion spread over your face. “Wh-What?” You questioned.

“You heard me. If you want my cock beg. for. it.” He said.

Under normal circumstances, you would’ve laughed in his face, but, well, being incredibly horny does make a difference. Swallowing your pride, you whispered, “Please. I want your cock. I want you to fuck me.”

And yet, true to the utter asshole that he was, All Might pretended not to hear you. “Hmmm. What was that?” He said, lifting a hand up to cup his ear, “I didn’t hear you.”

“I want your cock!” You shouted, looking up to glare at him, “I want you to fuck me.”

“No need to be so mean kitten,” He said, a mock pout coming over his face, “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

Before you could even register that he’d moved, All Might was back over you again, one last self-satisfied smirk being the only warning you got before he buried his cock in you. Moaning from the sensation, tears sprung at your eyes from how far he was stretching you. God, he was so big, yet you couldn’t even find it in yourself to care because it felt so good.

Fully inside, he gave you the small mercy of allowing but a single moment for you to adjust. Before you knew it, he was pulling out only to thrust back into you again, setting an absolutely brutal pace. Eyes rolling into the back of your head from the force, you briefly registered him attaching onto your neck, sucking hard enough to leave teeth indentations.

Grabbing hold of his neck, you wrapped your legs around his waist to give him better access as breathy groans escaped your lips. Already you could feel the coil inside beginning to wind again.

“You filthy slut. You like this, don’t you? Me using you for the whore you are.” He said, wrapping a hand around your throat and grunting as he bucked into you.

“I’m the only one who’s ever gonna be able to fuck you this good. I’m the only one who can make you feel like this. You got that. You’re mine.” He growled, reaching hand down to flick at your clit, never once slowing down.

Lost in pleasure, you barely even processed his words. That is until he leaned down to snarl in your ear, “Say it.”

“I-I’m yours, All Might. You’re the only one who can fuck me this good.” you groaned.

Coming in close, he caught your lips in a bruising kiss, before thrusting in once more, going so deep you were sent flying off the edge. Gasping, you saw stars in your eyes as white hot pleasure wracked its way down your spine sending tremors throughout your body. As you came, your pussy clenched around him, causing All Might to climax as well. Hot seed coated the insides of your walls as you both fought to recover. As your heavy pants gradually became more controlled, he slowly slid out of you.

With sweat coating his brow and his breathing ragged, All Might looked down at you, blue eyes blazing, “Nobody makes you feel the way that I do. Nobody. And you’d do well to remember that, doll.”

Climbing off of you, he began to make his way down the hall, throwing your pitiful form still sprawled out on the couch one last glance. “The next time you want to try something like what you just pulled, I’d suggest you remember our little lesson today.”

#all might x reader #all smite x reader #all might #all smite #toshinori yagi #toshinori yagi x reader #mha #my hero academia #villain all might #villain au #all might smut #all might x you #yagi toshinori #my hero fanfic #all might imagine #smut

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odetojeons · 3 years

Note

ok ok ok but what kinks do you think mingyu has 👀👀

okay so i’m gonna start answering the requests now like i didn’t disapear for one month :’) and omg i’m excited. I already said this before, I think mingyu is more of a sub than anything, but there are times. there are TIMES. when he doms it’s not too kinky, it’s more like carnal and (very fucking) rough sex in which he gets too impatient to be a good boy and grabs you by the hips, takes what he wants and just completely destroys you,, ANYWAYS, you can read more of my thoughts here. Y’all better sit down and buckle up cuz I have A LOT to say about this man (especially with how fucking much I miss him).

Praise Kink — I HAD to start with this one. I think you can all agree with me how much Mingyu loves being praised. There is actually a video of him getting red all over and whining because he got too happy when he was praised by the other members and IT’S JUST SO CUTE. Mingyu would downright meowl every time you told him how much of a good boy he is and how he’s perfect, so pretty just for me. But I also think he would love to praise you too, wants you to know you’re everything he’ll ever need.

Pet names — Idk if this is considered a kink, but please, he gives me such vibes of being into the pet names puppy or pup. We all know he’s considered the puppy of Seventeen, so I think it suits him and his personality a lot, especially because I think he would be so horny and desperate when it comes to sex. Calling him baby boy, angel, sweetheart, he would love it so much. Although he would love to call you by cute names too, and I think his favorites would be princess, prince and my baby.

Degradation — HEAR ME OUT, I absolutely think he would love being degraded. I just,, I can’t even begin to explain how much I think he would enjoy that. Mingyu is just so dirty, he would go all red when you tell him how he’s the filthiest little slut or are you that desperate for me you can’t even stay still? while he humps his cock on the pillow, too needy to wait for your touches. He could even cum just from such kind of words, in all honesty I think this is one of his major kinks ever, not just the verbal aspect of it but also the physical part too.

Begging — Oh, yes. YES. Mingyu is all about begging. No matter how many times I think about it, I can absolutely hear his throaty and whiny voice saying please, please, please, let me cum, I have been so good, and he sometimes doesn’t even have to have a purpose or an incentive to do it, he just mumbles it without thinking like it’s the only word he remembers. It would come with the fact that he’s too horny for his own good, seriously, y’all don’t understand how much horny energy I feel this man exhuding.

Exhibitionism — We been knew how much he likes being watched. He may be shy about it, but I guess it can be related with his love for compliments. Although Mingyu would not only like people watching him, but also you as well. The way you move your body on top of him as you ride his dick, or the way he would put a hand on your lower back and make you arch impossibly more just so he could drill into you harder; the contrary of how he would cry and beg later when you edge him and tell him how much of a needy slut he is, being this desperate just because people are watching. ALSO ummm,, I try hard not to talk about other members here but, can I just say that I think him and Wonwoo are so much into watch each other fuck people. God, I even wrote like 18K words of porn of this particular thought. You can read it here.

Breeding Kink — Does this even need explanation? Mingyu would feel an almost animalistic need of putting as much cum inside you as he can. This would do as much as make him feral about it, when he has a stressing day or just because he wants to see his seed dripping out of your hole; no matter what compells him, it would get him aroused to the point where he wouldn’t even be able to wait until both of you get to the room, would rip and thorn both of your clothes off, put you on your knees and make you suck him off until he cums all over your face, just so he could fuck you against the wall afterwards. Which brings me to the next kink:

Strength/Size Kink — Well, is it possible to have a strength and size kink with yourself? Because he does. Mingyu would love to manhandle you around the place, fuck you against every surface of the house, especially if he gets to hold you up as your back is pressed somewhere. Not only that, but I also think it would be due to the movement of his hips. Or better yet; what comes after it. The way your ass and the back of your thighs would get red with how hard he’s thrusting into you, won’t be satisfied until you’re drooling because of his cock and simping for his muscles, bulging over the effort of fucking you. And I just know, I KNOW he would have a dirty mouth about it, would make questions like yeah? You like how strong I am? All this time on the gym gotta pay for something or falling appart on my big cock like you were made to, hm?. Fuck why am I like this. I LITERALLY BRING PAIN TO MYSELF.

Bondage — I think I’m writing too much so I hope y’all keep up with my horny ass, because I can’t stop until I say everything I want to say about him,, so, about this, Mingyu would love to tie someone up as much as he would love to be tied up... Okay, maybe I think he would love to be tied up more than tying someone up, if I’m being completely honest. He just gives this kind of vibes, maybe even as punishment for misbehaving, since he would sometimes be too desperate to wait like a good boy, and he knows you end up letting him take what he wants just because you would tie him up later and make him “regret” (the little shit would never regret anything, and neither would you).

Overstimulation/Edging — Oh, fucking definitely. I have this very vivid image of Mingyu sitting on a chair, hands tied up behind the chair back, legs spread and completely falling appart as you jerk him off. Flick your wrist faster and faster, just to get him on the edge and let go when he’s just there. Then, make that again and again and again, until he’s crying and begging for you to let him cum, and when you finally do, you only keep going, grip unforgiving. Watching his labbored breath of relief turn into little meowls, hips jerking away or closer, none of you are quite sure, but he wants it, saying don’t stop more like a moan than actual intelligible word.

Pegging/Anal Sex — Mingyu would be so shy about it at first. He would come to you, mumbling words you struggle to understand and cheeks burning red, until he manages to get out he wants you to fuck him. But oh lord, when he tries it out he would go absolutely insane. I really think he would be into it, into you rocking your hips and nudging your cock (plastic or not) against his prostate. Just imagine him with a dark blush all the way down to his chest, little whines and meowls that sounds too high and sweet for his own ears, body writhin all over the bed and fists clenching the mattress as his back arches. So damn cute and hot at the same time :( he just wants to be taken care of sometimes, being able to just lay down and have someone fucking him to oblivion.

Power Play — More like fighting for power to be honest. He really enjoys subbing, but when he does it he wants you to put him on his place, because Mingyu is irrevocably and completely a brat. He would tease you to the point where it drives you insane, just so you could snap at him and take what you want, as much as he loves when you do the same to him.

Spanking — Hmmm Mingyu and spanking. And he would do it hard. Full on open fingers going down on your ass until he leaves his handprint. To be honest, I totally think he’s the kind of boyfriend who would be possessive, wants his marks all over you neck and body, however, oh however, I also think he really really reeeeeally love when you do it to him. Everything, from the crescent shaped marks on his back, to the bite on his shoulder you accidentaly gave him when he was fucking you on missionary position, to the mark of your fingers on his cheek when you slap him for being a brat. Okay I kind of lost myself in the kink but yes. Mingyu and spanking.

Double Penetration — HOLY SHIT please tell me you agree with me. Like, fuck, there’s this evil side of him who wants to see you being speared open in more than one cock, wants to see you fucked into another dimension and reduced to an incoherent drooling mess, and it’s just so dirty of him, usually possessive and guarded, to let someone else get their hands on you just so he could watch you fall apart with two cocks. Or even him alone with a dildo, what it matters is to have two things inside you absolutely wrecking you. Or him. Oh shit why did I have to say that cuz now the image of him being double penetrated won’t ever leave my mind IT IS BURNED BEHIND MY EYELIDS FOREVER. Bye.

Choking — You damn right I think about his hands on my neck all the time. They look so big, and I’m sure it’s also something of his size kink, seeing his huge hands wrapped around your throat would make something ugly, something hot burn in the pit of his stomach. You doing it to him too, especially when he’s tied up, only being able to take what you’re willing to give him.

and that’s that! sorry (?) for writting too much, this always happens when I stay too much time without writting any filth,,, last time that happened, I speant two years without any smut so then I wrote 18K words of porn in two days (no, I didn’t sleep) AND I DON’T EVEN REMEMBER WRITTING HALF OF IT??? and the time before that, I simply wrote 12K words. what is wrong with me. anyways!! hope you liked it, tell me what you think and your opinions too!!

#seventeen imagine #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagine #mingyu #svt smut #svt x reader #svt imagines

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cozykozume · 3 years

Text

Pretty Lips

NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Sugardaddy!Tendou x Sugarbaby!f reader

Warnings: road head/blowjob, sugar baby!au, female reader, slight praise kink, solo female/masturbation, messing around in a car, use of the word daddy (2) times.

Word Count: 1478

First collb for The Brothel and I’m so excited I got to be a part of it! 🥰🥰

Make sure to check out the whole masterlist brought to you by The Brothel!

Tendou never really planned on having a sugar baby, and you never really planned on becoming one. And in all honesty, the relationship you two had went a little deeper than JUST sugar baby/sugar daddy. The love you two shared for each other was real and it was not going anywhere anytime soon.

One of your favorite things to do was tease him until he could no longer take it and he would absolutely ravage you. It was one of those things that came along with being a “bratty bottom,” and you earned that nickname each and everyday you were with him.

On this particular day though, you two had gone out to dinner in celebration of Hinata being back in town. Of course, between Bokuto, Atsumu, Kenma, and Kuroo there were no expenses spared for this party. Although there was plenty of alcohol to go around, you and Tendou decided to pass, knowing that once you guys got home you had a long night ahead of you.

You tried your best, you really did. But at a certain point, it couldn’t be helped, right?

Tendou was dressed to impress...And that he did. Fitted jeans, fitted shirt and a sports jacket with a satin finish, black from head to toe. To say it was hard to keep your hands off him would be an understatement.

You on the other hand, liked to add a few pops of color into your evening wear. A deep burgundy dress with long sleeves that hit around mid-thigh was your go to. At first glance, it seemed to be more modest than most dresses worn to events like this. But the entire back of the dress was missing, leaving little to the imagination when standing behind you. The way the dress hugged each of your curves drove Tendou insane every time you wore that particular piece out.

The entire night had been spent catching up with friends, enjoying delicious food, and on occasion, sneaking away from everybody to steal a few heated kisses. Tendou also loved this dress because one of his favorite things to do was trail his fingers up and down your back, his nails softly dragging each time he did it. The goosebumps that erupted across your back and the soft shiver that takes over your body was like music to Tendou’s ears.

--------

The drive home was where you finally lost your composure. Being in the tight space of the car, his cologne filling your nose with every breath you took, and his eyes silently undressing you as he glanced at you.

You reach out, placing your hand on his knee. “Hey Tendou…” You say quietly as you begin to finger walk your way up his thigh. “Yess y/n…” He says, a smirk already crossing his face as he hears the need dripping from your voice.

“Don’t tell me no, okay?” You say, looking at him and waiting for him to agree to it. “Are you going to tell me what I can’t say no to?” He asks, a small chuckle following his question. You shake your head no, softly biting your bottom lip. “Okay princess. I will not say no to whatever request you have.”

“Damn babe, can’t you wait until we get home?” Tendou laughs, brushing the hair away from your face as you reach over to unbuckle his pants. “I mean I could wait until we get home...but isn’t this more fun Daddy?” You smirk, tugging at his pants until he lifts his hips enough for you to pull his semi-hard cock out. “Mmm plus it looks like you want this just as much as I do.”

You lean over the center console, one hand gripping his thigh while the other holds the base of his cock tightly. You ghost your lips over the tip, collecting the spit in your mouth and letting it drop onto it. Tendou’s cock jumps slightly at this, his grip on the wheel causing his knuckles to turn white.

You tilt your head, running your tongue up and down the bottom of him, smirking as you feel the muscles in his thigh starting to tighten. “Hmmm...Are you perhaps enjoying this?” You say, pulling back from his lap enough to look into his eyes.

God. The look on his face could have made you cum on the spot. His cheeks, as red as the hair on top of his head. Small beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and sides of his face. The fiery red hair that was usually sticking straight up in the air is now damp, clinging to the back of his neck and forehead. He takes one hand, wiping it across his forehead before laughing and shaking his head.

He quickly pulls the car over onto the shoulder of the highway, leaving it running but turning off the headlights. For some reason, being in the car with Tendou was always quick to get you hot and bothered, so this situation has played out time and time again since you two had gotten together.

“Uh-uh sweet cheeks, you started this and now you’re going to finish it.” He says, his hand sliding along your scalp and grabbing a fist full of your hair. You purr, licking your lips and going to work on his cock. You bob your head up and down, gagging softly each time his cock kisses the entrance to your throat.

You pull your dress up, creeping your hands into your panties as you let out a soft moan. You shift your legs, letting them spread slightly as your pointer finger teases your clit and causes your legs to tremble.

“There you go baby…” He whispers, grabbing one of your thighs and spreading your legs even further. “Give me a show while you suck my cock. Fuck you’re such a good girl.” He moans, pushing his cock further into your mouth. You begin gagging harder, your fingers circling your clit in time with Tendou’s thrusts. The grip in your hair gets tighter as his thrusts become deeper and his hand pushes you further down onto him. “There you go pretty girl. Take it down your throat.” He moans out again, his eyes glued between your legs.

You moan around his cock, your relaxed throat allowing him to sink further in. You gag harder around him as his grunts and groans getting louder. “Fuck fuck fuck! I-I think I’m going to cum.” He moans out, looking down at you as his movements become sloppy. You look up at him through teary eyes as his head falls back onto the headrest of the seat. You can feel his thigh muscles tensing under your hand before his legs begin to tremble. You feel the first rope of his hot seed hit the back of your throat, followed by 3 more heavy spurts of cum.

Between his moans, the pure look of bliss on his face and your fingers hard at work, you let your orgasm overtake you.

This was not the hot and intense kind of orgasm that you were used to. This was the kind to start in your toes and slowly work it’s way up to your sensitive clit. It felt like a wave of water was working its way through your body. You pulled off his cock, spit and cum dripping down onto his thigh as you let out a low, long moan. Your legs twitch as you ride it out, nails digging into his skin as the feeling goes from pleasurable to boardline painful.

Tendou gently pulls your face up, peppering kisses across your cheeks, nose and lips. “Fuck that felt so good...What did daddy do to deserve such a good girl?” He asks, his eyes full of lust mixed with admiration. You smile, wiping your mouth off before catching his lips in a soft kiss.

“You didn’t do anything silly. You deserve the world.” You whisper, letting your eyes drop to your lap. You could feel his lips pull into a smile against your cheek as he paused.

“No y/n...I really don’t think I do deserve you or have done anything to earn the right to ask you to be in my life. BUT I will work on it and I will keep trying. Don’t worry.” He says, the grip on your face tightening slightly as he pulled back from you. He plants a soft kiss on your lips before fixing your dress. He slips his softening cock back into his pants and zips them up.

“Now we go home and enjoy what the rest of the evening has to offer.”

You smile, your eyes slightly heavy as you buckle yourself back in. You lean your head against the window and doze off, one hand in your lap and the other engulfed in Tendou’s large warm one.

#tendou x reader #hq tendou #tendou haikyuu #tendou smut #hq fluff #hq smut #weebnation #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #y/n smut #CozyFics

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its-nebula · 4 years

Text

Love Is...

Kokichi Oma x Reader

Thank you to @memeh-stuff for the idea! <3

"S/O... S/O wake up!"

You woke up to Kokichi bouncing excitedly on your bed, looking much like an excited puppy, ready to go for a walk. As cute as he was when he was excited, you noticed that it was still dark outside through the windows. Rolling your eyes, you pulled the cover over your head, hoping he’d stop. Apparently, you didn’t know your boyfriend very well, because he jumped on top of you instead.

“Kokichi, stoooooop! You’re gonna break the mattress!” You whined, peeking your head out from under the covers.

“Oh, calm down, S/O. You’re really acting like we’re not going to break the mattress later tonight~” He laughed as you threw a pillow directly into his face, and he kissed your cheek. “Happy Valentine’s Day, S/O. I have something prepared for you, so wake up already!” He started to pout, and upon seeing his sad eyes, you sighed in defeat, getting up.

“YAY! Okay, okay, wait right here!” Kokichi dashed off the bed and left the room, while you yawned and stretched. You watched as he came back with a tray in his hands, and he set it down on your lap. You took a look at the purple heart-shaped pancakes in front of you, with smiley faces made of whipped cream on them, and your heart immediately melted. “Do you like it? I made it just for you!”

“Aw, Kichi, this is so adorable! I love them!” You kissed your boyfriend’s cheek, and he smiled at you. He scooted next to you as you took a bite. You then took another piece and fed it to him, giggling at how chubby his cheeks looked. “It’s good, isn’t it?”

“MMM-HMMM!”

The two of you took turns feeding each other until it was all gone.

“Well, I have to admit, that was worth waking up at 6:30 in the morning for.” You told Kokichi. “Thank you so much, it was lovely!”

“Oh, we’re just getting started for the day! Get up and get ready, we’ve got a full day ahead of us!”

“Really? You’ve never been one for mushy Valentine’s Day activities, what’s the occasion?” You raised an eyebrow at him. All he did was smirk and put his hands behind his head.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, now stop being such a lazy-bones and get ready.”

After taking a shower and getting dressed, Kokichi very hurriedly rushed you into the car, and he could barely sit still from his excitement. You were a bit worried that he was going to crash, and you nervously told him to slow down before he hit an innocent pedestrian from flying down the road. “Aw, you’re no fun!”

Somehow you managed to get to the park alive, but maybe not for much longer as he practically pulled your arm out of the socket. “Kokichi I’m going as fast as I can!”

“Then walk faster!” As you struggled to keep up with him, you didn’t even have time to focus on where you were going. When he’d finally stopped, you ran into him, but he caught you before you could fall down. “Wow, S/O, you’re so clumsy! Anyways, behold! I’ve arranged for us to have a horse-drawn carriage ride! How romantic is that?!”

“Wow, for me? You know that you didn’t have to do that...”

“Yeah, yeah, but I wanted to! Now, hop on!” He helped you into the carriage, then climbed in himself. He took a blanket and laid it out over your laps, then cuddled with you. “Pretty cool, right? Only the best for my S/O!”

“I love it, but...”

“But?” His head shot up and he got a worried look on his face. “What did I do wrong?! Are you too cold? Do you need more blankets? Is this not lovey-dovey enough for you?!”

“Kichi, Kichi, slow down! What’s gotten into you?” You pouted after seeing him so distressed. It wasn’t like him at all to get this riled up, especially on Valentine’s Day. It seemed that he realized how stressed he seemed, because he quickly cleared his throat and put on his usual smile. You squinted at him-- you could tell that something was up.

“I just know that you only deserve the best, that’s all, babycakes!” He booped you on the nose, and you playfully swatted it away. His smile said that he was fine, but the panic behind his eyes said something different.

Before you could question it, you felt the carriage roll over a large bump, and you held onto Kokichi. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna let you fall. You’re precious cargo~”

“Heh...thanks.” You couldn’t help but blush at his words. Suddenly, the carriage rolled over another, bigger bump, and it sent you flying out on the ground, and into the mud. You tried to save yourself by holding out your arms, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the wisest idea, and now you were on the ground in pain.

“GAH! S/O!” You watched as your boyfriend practically somersaulted out of the carriage and ran towards you, kneeling at your side. “Oh no, no, no! Are you okay? Did you just sprain your wrist?! That idiot coachman-”

“Just...take me to the doctor.” You requested. Although he looked on the verge of tears, he helped you up.

“I’m going to go give that coachman a piece of my mind! I’ll be right back, please wait in the car for me.” He handed you the keys, which you accepted, and glumly sauntered back to Kokichi’s car. Once you got in, you sighed, looking out the window. You felt bad that you would have to cancel his plans, but he’d also been acting very strangely towards you.

Once he got to the car, he started to drive in silence, seemingly in deep thought. You couldn’t help but notice his eyes were a light shade of red, as if he’d been crying. You couldn’t read his expression, though, as he was just staring blankly at the road.

“What/s wrong, Kokichi?” You asked, breaking the silence. “Something’s been bothering you all morning. What is it?”

He glanced at you, before sighing in defeat. He clenched the steering wheel as he started to speak. “I just...wanted to give you the perfect Valentine’s Day. My friends... they don’t believe that I really love you, because I tend not to be romantic. They think my love for you is just... is just...” You gasped as you saw a tear roll down his cheek. “ANOTHER ONE OF MY DUMB LIES!”

You were worried once again that he was going to crash, but it broke your heart to see he was feeling this way. “Is that what all of this is about? Kokichi, I know that you love me. You don’t have to sit here and prove it to me because of some dumb holiday you don’t even like!”

He sniffed as he glanced at you again. “R-Really? Do you really mean that...?”

“Of course I do! You show your love to me in other ways every single day! It doesn’t matter that I don’t get sent 10 dozen roses or get carried away into the sunset on some horse. Your company... is all I need. I love you, Kokichi Oma.” You took his hand and held it tightly in yours.

“...I love you too, S/O.”

#kokichi oma #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa #imagine #kokichi x reader #kokichi ouma

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procrastinatorimagines · 4 years

Text

Worry

Fandom: One Chicago

Pairing: Connor Rhodes x Reader

Warning/s: car crash

Word Count: 2,595

Request: Hi! Can I get a Connor x reader? She is Jay’s partner and she gets in an accident during a car chase (Jay isn’t in the car) she gets hurt pretty severely. Kelly is the one who gets her out of the car. Lots of worried fluff from all 3 guys but eventually she ends up being okay.

You and your partner Jay pulled up outside the house, hands on your sidearms, ready for whatever you might find. The stolen vehicle you’d been tracking on the otherside from where you’d parked. This was one of three potential locations of your murder suspect, so Voight had split the unit up to check out each sites. Slowly getting out of the car Jay motioned for you to check out the front while he went to the back. It may have just been the two of you, but you weren’t worried, you were a good team.

It wasn’t long before you reached the front, moving carefully up the steps and peering in the window through a gap in the curtains. You couldn’t see any movement inside, but someone had tossed the place. The house was unoccupied, so you didn’t need a warrant to enter, trying the door when Jay radioed to tell you he was already inside.

That’s when you heard the noise, a loud rustling in the bushes behind you on the side of the house. Turning around you saw a man dart out, he must have climbed out an upstairs window. He tripped a little when he saw you but kept running for the street. “50 21 Sierra, I’ve got eyes on the suspect heading north from our location,” you radioed as you ran, practically jumping down the front steps and engaging in pursuit.

He’d crossed the street by the time you realised that he wasn’t going to be on foot much longer, climbing quickly into the drivers seat of your car as he was already starting to peel of down the road in the stolen car. “Halstead if I don’t go now I’m going to lose him,” you radioed quickly, “he’s no longer on foot, I’m going to pursue.”

“Go, I’ll catch up,” he told you as you were already taking off after your suspect, radioing on the city wide that you were engaging in a high speed pursuit and would need back up as you turned on your lights and siren.

You barely heard Jay radio too, requesting a pick up from his location, too busy making sure you didn’t lose the suspect as he made a sharp turn, radioing in all his moves as you made them. You matched him with ease, not only was his car much older than yours, you were also a pretty damn good driver.

Making your way onto a busier road you watched him frantically swerve in and out of different lanes, dodging cars as best he could in the mid day rush. You were just catching up to him at an intersection, your focus single as you saw the distance between your cars close, hearing the sirens of your back up in the distance. He’d be blocked in soon, you just needed to keep on him...

You didn’t really know what happened next, one second you were mere feet from him, coming up to a set of lights, he’d started to put his foot down and so had you, both realising that the lights were very much green for you.

Then... It was like the world had been flipped over and your senses had been knocked out of your body. Everything was spinning, you couldn’t breath, couldn’t tell what was going on. As soon as it had started, it had stopped, and everything had gone black.

You came to a world upside down, or maybe it was just you, you realised as you cracked your eyes open, trying to make out your surroundings through the broken front window of your car, your hands still gripping the steering wheel. Your head was pounding and you were acutely aware of a warm sensation getting larger and more worrying creeping up your midsection. Oh, you’d crashed.

It was probably the shock, but your first coherent thought was about your suspect, worried that he’d gotten away. You tried to will yourself to focus, to at least assess your person. Sirens sounds were getting closer and closer as you pried your hands off of the steering wheel, your arms heavy as you felt your abdomen, not trusting yourself to move your neck. Your hand felt wet, and as it travelled slowly further down you were met with a hard object, it felt like glass...

Why would there be glass there? You thought, had you been hit? You couldn’t feel it, well, you couldn’t feel the pain, but when you brought your hand up to your face it was slick with blood. That wasn’t good.

The sirens were loud now, and when they shut off you realised that they must have arrived. “Y/N! Y/N!” You heard a voice shout, it sounded like Jay. You were glad he hadn’t been in here with you.

“No! Jay you can’t, it’s not stable, let us pull her out,” another voice said, and was met with arguing and yelling from your partner. Kelly... 51 must have been here. Footsteps approached you as you took shallow breaths, your vision was getting blurry but you tried to stay awake.

“Y/N,” Kelly said cautiously as he reached you, crouching almost completely down to see you through the remains of the front window. You tried to tell him you were still with him, but it came out as incoherent groan. Good enough, you decided, he seemed relieved enough by it. You were alive.

He looked back and shouted something to the others that you couldn’t quite make out before turning back to you. “Hang tight, we’re going to get you out okay?” He tried to sound reassuring as he disappeared, probably to get some equipment to cut you out. ‘Hang tight’, yeah, you quite literally were, there was no where else you could go.

You focused on the sound of saws, they were trying to cut through your door to get you out. It was slow going, something about the structural integrity, but you were feeling more lightheaded by the second and the words were starting to lose meaning. You were aware of Sylvie nearby, she was worried about your injuries, they needed to get you out quickly.

Then you blacked out again. It couldn’t have been for long, because you were still in the car when you came to, but the door was gone and a c collar was being put around your neck as they were trying to figure out how to remove you without and keep the glass in your side stable. It was killing you, but it was also keeping you alive right now.

It smelled funny, you noticed as they grabbed something to secure the glass, beginning to wrap something around you and fasten it in place. You could barely feel it anyway, but you knew as soon as the shock wore off it would hurt like nothing else.

“Hold on Y/N,” Kelly muttered, inspecting the seatbelt situation. If you hadn’t have been wearing it... well you weren’t sure, but you were pretty sure it had saved your life, even if it had apparently sliced your shoulder. Huh, you hadn’t even noticed.

You wanted to tell him that you were trying, but you couldn’t say anything as that smell got some prominent. Were you going crazy? As it turned out no,

“Severide!” You heard Casey yell, “we got to move, the car’s going to go!” He called for everyone else to fall back. Gas.

“I need more time to get her out!” Kelly yelled back frantically, refusing to leave your side. “If we move her too fast-”

“Severide!” A deeper voice, more demanding and in charge, Boden. There was a light forming behind you, fire.

Kelly froze for a split second before meeting your eyes, worry clear as day, before he started quickly cutting you free from the seat belt.

Now, now you felt the pain. As Kelly hauled you out of the wreck of the car by the shoulders, you wondered if the fire had already reached you, because you felt like you were burning. Moments later the car blew, and Kelly shielded you with his body, muttering how sorry he was as the pain took you from your waking state yet again.

“Stay with me Y/N, oh god stay with me,” he called for help as you heard people rushing towards you, but you couldn’t, not for long, no matter how hard you tried.

The last thing you remembered as you were loaded on to a back board, Slyvie and Emily doing there best to keep you alive until you reached Med, was Jay yelling at Kelly. “What the hell was that!? You could have killed her!”

“What else was I supposed to do? The car was going to blow! Any slower and she would have blown with it,” Kelly snapped back. “You know what, you want to start this, why was she alone in the first place huh? Aren’t you supposed to be her partner?!”

Boden and Casey broke them up and Jay insisted on riding with you to Med, climbing in as you were loaded into the ambo and the doors were shut. Emily hit the gas, driving you to Med as quickly as she possibly could.

You met Jay’s eyes barely as Sylvie tried to give you oxygen, shakily grabbing his hand and smiling at him softly as everything went black. “Y/N? Y/N!”

The next thing you saw was figure above you, silhoutetted by a bright light, but as your eyes slowly focused you realised who you were looking at. Your boyfriend, Connor. You smiled weakly, your head fuzzy, but your pain was now a dull ache. They must have given you some pretty heavy pain medication, you realised.

Connor’s face flushed with relief and his whole body visible relaxed, a hand going to lightly cup your face. “You’re awake,” he breathed, putting his forehead against yours. He’d been crying, you realised, noting the slight red around his eyes. It must have been bad.

“Hmmm,” you got out, your mouth and throat impossibly dry. Connor offered you some slow sips of a drink out of a straw. “Connor...” You croaked out.

“Hey baby,” he smiled, “you gave us quite a scare.” Although his tone was light, you could hear the genuine fear behind it as he flashed a torch in your eyes, examining you.

He seemed satisfied, you could move your toes and squeeze his hand. “What... happened?” You managed, still so unclear on the whole situation. Or, you realised, how long you’d been in the hospital. You needed answers.

“An SUV sped through a red light, crashed straight into you,” he explained, anger slipping into his voice, “51 managed to get you out, but...”

“Car blew up,” you finished and he nodded, taking your hand.

“They had to get you out quicker than they should, you took a large piece of glass to your side, lost a lot of blood. Y/N, you’ve been in the ICU the last couple of days, you’ve been in and out of surgery, you...” his voice caught and he squeezed your hand, “you coded in the ambulance on the way to Med, then again on the table. I thought we’d lost you, it’s been so touch and go-”

“Am I okay?” You dared ask after a pause, looking down at yourself. Well, you still had all of your limps, you could feel them too, Connor had seemed especially relieved about that.

“You should be,” he answered honestly, “well, you shouldn’t be if we’re talking about odds, but you pulled through. God, Y/N I was so worried.” Oh, it had really been that bad.

“Well you know me,” you cracked a half grin, “I like to keep you on your toes.” Connor chuckled in disbelief, shaking his head at the fact that you could joke about the situation. You laughed a little too, stopping when you felt a sharp pain. Worth it, you thought, to see him smile.

“I love you,” he said with earnest, meeting your eyes. You swallowed hard, humour gone as you took in the severity of the situation.

“I love you too,” you told him, like a promise that you were going to be okay.

“Jay and Kelly have barely left since you arrived, been at each other’s throats a little about the whole situation,” he told you as memories of their fight after the incident came back to you.

“It’s not their fault,” you said, your voice coming back to you more even though it still hurt a little to talk.

“I know, so do they really, I think they’re blaming themselves more than each other anyway,” he admitted. You knew how they felt, you’d felt guilty when Jay had been shot and you hadn’t been there.

“They care,” you smiled. You and Jay had been partners for years, and Kelly was one of your closest friends, they were bound to worry. They also always felt like they had to save everyone, and you knew how much they hated being helpless to do something, so this must have nearly killed them Well, not in the same way that it had nearly killed you, but still.

“Should I be jealous?” Connor joked and you laughed again, lightly swatting his arm.

“Ow, stop,” you lightly put a hand to your side, feeling the bandage.

“There was a lot of internal bleeding too, but we managed to get it under control, it took a long time but you should make a full recovery, a slow one Y/N,” he said pointedly, knowing that you were probably already thinking about the case. You were.

Before you could reply there was a soft knock at the door, Jay poking his head in slightly and smiling when he saw you awake and alert. You gesture for him to come in, and see Kelly entering behind him too. Both men look like they haven’t really slept, and you could tell by how carefully they were surveying that they were checking if you were alright.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Jay asked tentatively.

“Better than ever,” you told him and he rolled his eyes.

“Really, Y/N,” Kelly pushed. It wasn’t entirely fair to them, you knew how much they cared about you, but you didn’t want coddling.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, though neither of them looked entirely convinced as they glanced to Connor, who gave them a slight nod to let them know that you would be.

“Didn’t know if you were going to pull through for a minute there,” Kelly said, not meeting your eyes, “I should’ve-”

“It’s not your fault-” you told them, firmer when you could tell they weren’t convinced, “it’s not, either of you, okay?” They nodded and shrugged, which would have to do for now. “Did we get him?” You asked Jay.

“Yeah we got him, squad picked up, but right now you should be focusing on recovering, not work,” he replied, knowing you too well.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her, she needs to focus on taking care of herself right now,” Connor said pointedly and you smiled, shaking your head.

“Why would I do that when I have the three of you to do it for me?” You joked, trying not to laugh, “you guys really need to stop worrying about me.”

“Never,” they all said at once, exchanging amused glanced with each other as you pretended to get annoyed.

You were going to be okay, they’d make sure of it, you didn’t know how you’d gotten so lucky to find people who cared about you so much.

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kay-diggle · 4 years

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Summary: You interrupt Jungkook while he's playing his video games.

Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader, Established Relationship

Genre & Rating: Smut, 18+

Warnings: Mention of COVID19, kinda strip tease (but not really), dom!jungkook, sub!reader, oral (f. recieving), overstimulation, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex (pls stay safe guys), creampie

Length: 2.5k words

Notes: HELLOOOO!! OMG I feel like it's been forever since I've posted (sorry for going ghost). Anyways, this fic was inspired by a new challenge I saw on Tiktok where women drop their towels in front of their boyfriends while they're playing video games to see their reaction. It also mentions COVID19/ quarantine and I know a lot of people have a lot of anxieties surrounding our current situation, so maybe don't read if you think it'll trigger you. Also, Disclaimer: In no way is this fic meant to romanticize our current situation. Other than that, I'm not sure if I really like this, but I hope you all enjoy and are staying healthy! {Requests are closed at the moment.}

Kay-Diggle’s Masterlist

Annoyed wasn’t even the word to explain how you had been feeling for the past few days.

You had been excited once, when you first landed in Korea. Your boyfriend, Jungkook, flew you out from the states to visit him while he and the rest of BTS were preparing for their upcoming tour. You were happy to be getting a behind the scenes view of the process while spending time with the love of your life and his friends. That was, until the virus that was affecting the entire world was getting worse. When you initially flew out, it wasn’t that bad, but by the time your 3 week visit was up, there was no way anyone was letting you travel back home.

Though extending your stay was a bit stressful, you were thankful for the extra time you’d be getting with him. The first three weeks, Jungkook was so busy. He touched you, just not as much or as frequently as you had wanted to be touched. But now that your plans for returning home were up in the air and you were staying with Jungkook alone in his apartment, you were expecting to have a “living dildo.” Granted, probably not the best way to refer to your boyfriend, but the thought of him being available to fuck you at any time for however long you would be staying in Korea was very enticing. Now that his working slowed down because of the quarantine, you thought you’d be getting his undivided attention. However, you were wrong.

Whenever he wasn’t at a quick meeting or rehearsal at BigHit, he was in his living room playing video games, most of the time with Taehyung or Jin. You knew that he was just trying to release some of his frustration behind the tour being postponed, but you honestly wished that he’d take it out on your body instead of through his stupid games.

This thought helped you devise your grand master plan. You chose a day you knew that he wouldn’t have anything to do. When he woke up and followed his regular routine of showering, eating with you, and then leaving you to play some game, you knew it was time.

You hopped in the shower and really took your time today, making sure that your skin was as smooth as a baby’s bottom and your private areas were as hairless as could be. When you felt like you looked perfect, you wrapped your towel around your body and made your way towards the living room.

“Jungkookieeeee,” you dragged it out in a high pitched whine.

“What baby? He said, not even acknowledging your presence.

“ I need you.”

Genuinely concerned, Jungkook turned his head to finally look at you and muted his mic. . “What’s the matter, my love.”

“I’m just feeling a bit… lonely in the room all by myself. How about you log off your game and come join me baby,” you tilted your head and gave him your best pouty face with a small lip bite.

He knew what you wanted, and you had predicted his resistance before he brushed you off with a quick “Not right now y/n” and turned his mic back on to continue his game.

You sighed dramatically before taking the towel wrapped around your body and throwing it towards him, landing in his lap and revealing your naked body. He looked back at you with wide eyes while you only smirked at him.

“Fine. Have it your way,” you replied sassily and walked back towards his bedroom making sure to add a little extra sway to your hips as you did so.

You couldn’t help the smile that was taking over your face. You knew he wouldn’t be able to resist you after your little towel show, and your prediction was confirmed when you heard him wrapping up the game with his friends, adding a rushed explanation, something along the lines of “I have to go kill this girl, sorry.”

And boy oh boy were you willing to die if it was at the hands of Jungkook.

You draped yourself across the bed and looked at your nails as if you were bored and Jungkook walked in just a few seconds later.

“Oh… look who came,” you teased.

Jungkook chuckled lowly, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest. “You think that was cute, don’t you?”

“Adorable,” you responded.

Jungkook just smirked at you before abruptly taking both of your ankles in his hands and dragging your body towards the edge of the bed. He leaned over your figure, caressing your thighs that wrapped around his waist.

“Hmmm… just what am I gonna do with you baby?” he asked, lips brushing against your own.

“Anything you want,” you replied looking straight in his eyes. You were ready to submit yourself to him, to do whatever he commanded you to do.

Jungkook smiled against your lips at this. He loved when you were so subby for him, willing to let him absolutely destroy you but he wasn’t feeling like going all that hard on you today.

“Well if it were any other day, I’d honestly go back on the game and make you ride me while I was playing, and wouldn’t let you make any noises or stop until you came at least three times while restraining your hands,” he whispered.

“Oh….” the idea did excite you, but you were already picturing how much you’d struggle. “So then what are you going to do to me today?”

“Apologize,” he let out a puff of air. “For neglecting you these past few weeks,” he pecked your lips.

His lips kept going with their slight kisses down your neck, your breasts, your stomach, down your thighs and back up to your wet center.

“For not fucking you every chance I’ve had,” he continued, now on his knees with his face deep in your heat.

You felt his cool breath against you first, driving you crazy before he even touched you. But when his tongue swiped against your folds, you couldn’t help but let out the moan you had been fighting.

“This pussy is so sweet, all mine…” he looked up in your eyes before wrapping his lips around your pulsing bud and sucking hard.

You felt your soul leave your body when you leaned on your elbows to look at him and saw that he was already staring at you. Throwing your head back and letting out a loud moan, your hand quickly found its way into his brown locks, tugging lightly, just how you knew he liked. He groaned and started sucking even more harshly. You were having too much fun pushing his head further into you, and he wanted to make sure you still knew who was in charge here.

“Play with your tits for me baby,” he commanded.

When your hands reached your breasts, you groped them, squeezing and caressing them as you liked. Your fingers found your hard nipples and began pulling on them lightly and pinching, adding to the immense amount of pleasure you felt.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was still working on you. With his mouth never leaving your clit, he collected the juices that were spilling out of you on two fingers, and slid them inside of you unexpectedly, making your arch your back off the bed and let out your loudest moan yet. Curving his fingers and thrusting slowly, they were massaging your walls while his tongue was massaging the spot where you needed him most. The light tremor in your legs served as an indication that you’d be coming soon, and although Jungkook would love to have your juices spill out all over his tongue, he’d rather it happen on his rock hard cock.

He pulled away from you very abruptly, and the frustration overtook you when your near orgasm faded away. Seeing the scowl on your face when he stood up, he couldn’t help but let out a light laugh that you did not appreciate.

“I’m glad you find my pain amusing.”

“Stop being so dramatic babe. Now, do you wanna get fucked or not?”

You rolled your eyes before scooting to the top of the bed. You watched him drop his shorts with his boxers and take off his shirt. You were practically drooling at the sight of his naked body and honestly, who could blame you?

“You know, I actually changed my mind. You’re gonna ride me.”

“Hmmpff” you let out a little whine as he walked over to the bed and sat up against the headboard.

“Are you really whining right now?” he asked, voice dripping with dominance.

Taking that as your warning, you got onto your knees and went to straddle his hips when he directed you to turn around. You figured not being able to see him was your punishment until you settled on his lap and one of his large hands immediately grabbed both of your wrists, restricting you, indicating that he didn’t want you to be able to touch him either. You quietly let out a little huff of breath in annoyance before you felt his dick rubbing against your wet folds and poking at your entrance.

“I was trying to be nice y/n, but your little attitude is something else baby,” he pushed you down onto his hard length very slowly, using his free hand to grab your hip and make sure you felt everything. “My dick is a gift y/n. You’re lucky you’re getting it, and you’ll take it however I choose to give it to you. Understand?”

You nodded your head in response which obviously didn’t sit right with Jungkook, as he roughly thrust up into you, getting you to push out a quiet “yes.” You couldn’t really get any other words out, as your head was preoccupied with the thoughts of how well Jungkook filled you up.

“Good girl. Now, since you interrupted me, I feel it’s only fair that you fuck yourself on my dick, sweetheart. Make yourself cum since you wanted this so bad.”

Now, this wasn’t what you had in mind when you called him a “living dildo,” but nevertheless, you began moving on his dick. It was definitely a challenge without your hands, but it didn’t stop you from bouncing on his cock. Your pace was fast, probably a lot faster than what Jungkook was expecting, but you were desperate to get back the orgasm that he took away from you earlier.

Jungkook didn’t know what to do with his one free hand. One second it was on your hip, helping to guide you up and down his shaft and the next it would be smacking your bare ass or reaching around to pinch your nipples. All of the sensations you were feeling along with the sound of the low groans he was letting out directly into your ear, your moans were coming out nonstop. Everything felt so good and you were so close, but you were also tired and felt like your legs would give out any second.

“Kookie,” you used his nickname to call out to him, hoping it would sweeten him up just a bit. “Please…. nnghh so good- fuck! My legs baby, I can’t.”

You guessed he was back in his nice mood because he let go of your hand. You felt liberated and leaned over to hold onto his thick things while you felt both of his hands grasp your hips. Your ass smacked against his pelvis as you rode him harder, him pulling you down while you simultaneously pushed yourself. Angling his hips slightly different, the tip of his dick pushed right into your g-spot and you cried out.

“YES FUCK!”

“Mmhhmm.. You like that sweetheart?” he said, making sure to repeatedly hit the same spot.

“Yes baby, oh my- ughhh I’m gonna fucking cum.”

“Yea? You’re gonna be a good girl and cum all over me right? Wet up my fucking cock hmm, soak my sheets?”

“Yesssss,” you dragged it out.

You really couldn’t keep quiet at this point, mouth hanging open as your moans flooded out. You were so close to cumming again and you knew it was over when his hand reached around the front of your body and his fingers found your clit.

“GOD YES!” you smacked your hand against his thigh as you felt your high take over. You blacked out for a moment, seeing stars. Jungkook hissed from the sting of your hand slapping his leg but continued to drag out your orgasm by using your hips to slowly rock you down onto him when you fell over.

“You’re fucking perfect y/n,” Jungkook moaned out. One of his favorite sights was you falling apart all over him.

“Ugh, Jungkook, please cum in me. Pleaseee,” you reminded him of his own pleasure.

Pushing you over, Jungkook got onto his knees and grabbed your hips again, raising them to match up with his pelvis. You made sure to arch your back when he started thrusting into you again, hard and fast, solely focused on his own pleasure. The overstimulation was getting to you a little bit, but you wanted Jungkook to come so badly, and the way his cock was twitching within your walls, you knew it would happen soon.

“Fucking shit y/n,” Jungkook groaned. You had become incredibly tight after your orgasm and were purposely clenching against him as well. It was almost too hard to move inside of you, but the tightness only added to his pleasure.

“Fill me with your cum Kookie …please… I need it,” you panted out in between his pistoning into you.

“Yesss… I’m gonna fucking fill this tight little cunt up.”

“Please,” you whimpered out.

Jungkook felt a tingly sensation in his stomach and his balls started tightening. All it took was for one final clench of your walls against his cock, and then he froze, shooting his load into you while you continued to rock your hips back against him.

“Fuccccckkkkkkkk,” he sang out, grabbing your hips to hold you in place when the feeling became too intense for him to handle.

When he let go of your hips and pulled out of you, he watched as you flopped down onto the bed and his cum spilled out of you. Flipping you over onto your back, he pulled you into a loving embrace and topped it off with a sweet kiss before going into the bathroom to get a rag and coming back to wipe the both of you off. As you were getting up, you saw him putting his shorts back on and automatically felt a pang of sadness hit you.

“Are you going back to finish your game?” you asked with a defeated sigh.

He looked at you and gave you his signature ‘bunny smile’ before shaking his head and walking over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“No,” he kissed your nose. “I am yours for the rest of the day, I promise.”

You smiled so big your cheeks hurt. “Thank you Jungkook.”

“Of course sweetheart. But the next time you throw your towel at me and walk away naked-”

“You won’t be as nice. Yes, I know,” you playfully rolled your eyes and pulled him down for a kiss,

“Good. Now, let’s enjoy the rest of this quarantine together, and I’ll log off of the game until it’s over.”

And that declaration sounded like music to your ears. Yay for a living dildo!!!

#bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook oneshot #bts oneshot #dom!jungkook #sub!reader #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader

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ducktracy · 4 years

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190. porky at the crocadero (1938)

release date: february 5th, 1938

series: looney tunes

director: frank tashlin

starring: mel blanc (porky)

at long last, frank tashlin has succumbed to putting porky on a diet. this is the first tashlin short to have a slimmed down porky, officially putting an end to “fat porky”’s reign.

the story credit goes to lew landsman—a bit of an anomaly, considering this is his only credit. much of the scoop on him has been lost to the sands of time, but evidently he was a gag artist, selling comic drawings to magazines and even touting showings of his art throughout the ‘40s and ‘50s. you can read more about him here.

porky aspires to be a bandleader at the prestigious crocadero (a parody of the cafe trocadero, a bumping nightclub on the sunset strip from 1934-1947), but quickly realizes he’s too poor to afford its flashy admittance fee. he works as a dishwasher, hoping to catch a whiff of the festivities, but is quickly let go after he proves too incompetent for the job. nevertheless, an impromptu change in plans finds porky at the bandstand conducting a number of acts, including a high-energy cab calloway finale.

the typography of the title card melts away, the camera panning out as we get a full view of the crocadero, illuminated by the moonlight and its flashy neon sign. pan back in to the sign and fade to a standee:

all of the selections are references to pieces of music, with said music serving as accompaniment. the score begins with “little man, you’ve had a busy day”, switches to “in the shade of the old apple tree”, and closes with a carl stalling favorite, “the lady in red”.

pan over to porky, eagerly ogling the sign. volney white’s animation and mel blanc’s vocals combine to make an energetic performance that will only grow in fervor. “hot duh-dee-duh-dee-duh-diggity dog! all thuh-the-thee-the big shots in person!” the detail of porky’s little hat flipping around, staggering in time to his stutter, is not only funny, but elevates the energy of the sequence. “someday, i’m uh-guh-geh-uh-gonna lead a band, too! s-see?”

porky unfurls a diploma, to which we get a close-up of his not-so-trustworthy credentials (fingernails and all):

volney’s animation continues to be full of character as porky blabs on about how he’s gonna become a famous bandleader. “and meh-muh-mee-mm-maybe i’ll be eh-feh-eh-famous, like eh-leh-lee-le-leopold eh-seh-stokowski!”

a nice change in camera angles as we turn to an upshot of porky, furiously conducting his imaginary band to a rousing rendition of “poet and peasant overture”.

the mood changes from fervent conductor to crooner as he chooses to mimic rudy vallee, conducting along to vallee’s 1937 “vieni, vieni”, complete with a hilariously amiable facial expression--a stark contrast to the fit he was throwing mimicking stokowski just seconds prior.

another seamless transition in tone to an impression of eh-buh-bee-beh-benny goodman, the song this time being “sweet georgia brown” in the stylings of the king of swing himself. the changes in mood and tone, in both the animation and the music, are as smooth as butter, especially for such drastic shifts in expression. frank tashlin doesn’t skip a beat with his pacing. this is especially true as the camera pans over to another nearby sign, a hilarious sight gag quickly putting an end to porky’s festivities:

dejected, porky rifles in his pocket and pulls out a lone coin emblazoned with a skunk—“one scent”. he trudges along solemnly, away from the crocadero, when all of the sudden a sign catches his eye: BOY WANTED. though porky has been slowly growing more consistent in his characterization, his age still fluctuated from picture to picture. frank tashlin would also portray him as a young boy in wholly smoke just a few months later.

tashlin flaunts his need for speed as porky wastes no time doing the signature volney white eye take and darting into the crocadero, a cloud of dust and the swinging of the doors serving as the only indication of his presence just milliseconds prior.

although the sign doesn’t elaborate on what job it is that porky is doing, the tower of dishes blocking the screen as we fade in to the new scene answers any lingering questions. pan out to porky, happily scrubbing away, while his boss, a pretentious walrus whose vocal stylings are hilarious and borderline incomprehensible orders him around. the bargain—if porky does his job, then he can “watch the orrrrrrchestrey, maybe, hmmm?”

a throwback to the days of working with disney, carl stalling “mickey mouse”’s a little penguin waiter—that is, his quick little steps are fervently timed to the jaunty tinker of an xylophone. the walrus blocks the diminutive penguin, peddling a platter of soup. after they inadvertently do a tango of side-stepping, the penguin wordlessly slides down the walrus’ back, zigzagging around a sea of tables, and right over to a lone giraffe, elevating the table like a car jack to fit the gjraffe’s height. the giraffe laps up his soup with ease. though not the funniest gag ever, tashlin’s quirks—the quick timing, hiding the penguin behind the plethora of tables, etc, make it more endearing.

back to porky, carrying a dangerously tall tower of plates with him. a fly causes him to nearly spill his goods, but ducking in place renders the pig safe. that is, until he throws all of the dishes in the air, swatting the fly spastically. the music cue of porky ducking, looking around to make sure the fly is gone, sounds eerily similar to the stylings of norman spencer, who scored the cartoons up until mid-late 1936.

without a break in pace, porky catches all of the dishes he threw into the air in one fell swoop. more buttery pacing from tashlin, who is able to switch tones and moods at lightning speeds without missing a beat. this is INCREDIBLY difficult to pull off, and he makes it look too easy.

as to be expected, the fly lands right on porky’s snout. instead of attacking it without hesitation, porky slowly reaches for a spoon on the kitchen counter... and THEN disregards his duties as dishwasher, carelessly tossing his pile of dishes aside to swat furiously at his foe.

the pompous walrus from before spots porky’s silhouette from outside the kitchen doors, flailing and waving around like a madman. “der loafer!” his boss interprets porky’s frantic waving of the spoon as a frantic imitation of a bandleader, promptly tossing him out. porky recovers in the back alley, left with his diploma and metaphorical birds of cartoon pain as the boss scolds “today, you are a ham!”--a take on the bar mitzvah declaration “today, you are a man”, which has been spoofed previously in cartoons such as egghead rides again.

it doesn’t take long for the boss to eat his own words. frank tashlin does a great job of creating a genuinely anxiety inducing mood as a crowd of people, now filling the crocadero, chant “we want mu-sic! we want mu-sic! we want mu-sic!” the musical accompaniment is more akin to the stylings of scott bradley, in the sense that it’s purely atmospheric and contextual, rather than an actual melody. the chanting and disconcerting music get louder as we cut to dramatic up shots of hands clapping to the beat, down shots of foots stamping, etc. it’s genuinely unnerving--and the manager agrees, pacing circles around his office, muttering incoherently to himself about the absence of “the musicmaker”.

knocking on the door serves as a symbol of hope as the manager whips around. “who’s dere?”

“telegram, i bet’cha!” inside bursts a total loon of an old man, his long, white beard whipping in the wind as he does donuts on his bicycle inside the manager’s office. if it weren’t for his looks and speech patterns, which already tell a story, carl stalling’s score of “the woods are full of cuckoos” certifies that this old coot definitely has some screws loose.

the old coot reaches into the depths of his beard and pulls out said telegram. “y’ owe me sixty cents, i bet’cha.” the manager unceremoniously dumps a handful of coins into the coot’s possession, who does a few more donuts in the office, indicating his exit. that is, until he suddenly halts, tipping his hat to bid “g’bye, i bet’cha.” such a scene is nonsense--and it’s hilarious nonsense rather than perplexing nonsense. it makes no sense, and yet it’s speedy enough to get its point across AND not overstay its welcome. had the same gag been executed by someone such as ben hardaway, who probably would have LOVED this gag, it would have been milked to death and bloated to ensure the audience “got it”. here, frank knows when to start and when to stop, an incredibly valuable skill not all directors possess.

contents of the telegram include a rather morbid nod to the hit ‘20s song “i faw down an' go boom”:

to add insult to injury, the old coot sticks his head in the door and adds “yeah, and they won’t come ‘t all, i betcha!” before slamming the door. though i can’t place the animator, the style of the animation looks eerily similar to that of izzy ellis’, from the spiral motion lines to the thin, squished look of his face. izzy ellis would animate in the clampett unit after leaving ub iwerks’ studio, later animating under norm mccabe, frank tashlin himself, bob clampett again, and then bob mckimson. an example of some of his work under frank tashlin here.

back to the crowd, still demanding their music in the same unnerving drone. the manager continues to pace in his office, until a bright idea hits. “that sving dishvasher! i must get him back schnell!”

a moment of frank tashlin greatness: the entire cartoon screeches to a halt as a narrator explains “ladies and gentlmen, ‘schnell’ means ‘quick’!” and, just like that, cartoon hijinks resume. this joke is hilarious 83 years later--imagine the reaction it evoked from theatergoers in 1938. once more, the matter-of-fact execution of the gag is what sells it. no build up, no cool down, no bloating of anything. short, sweet, and to the point. it’s so hilariously and purposefully redundant that you can’t NOT laugh at it.

speaking of quick, that would be an understatement to describe the rapid cutting after the fact. the manager rushes outside, whipping around street corner after street corner to find the dejected dishwasher he berated just minutes prior. he finds his target, grabbing porky and rushing backwards--the same way he came at the same exact lightning speed--all while monologuing about how porky can be a bandleader and break all of the dishes he wants.

again, no breaks in momentum whatsoever as the bandleader tosses a nonplussed porky into a bandleader’s outfit, stuffing a pillow under his shirt (had this cartoon been made a few months prior, there’d be no need for a pillow!) and giving him a fake mustache/curl of hair via makeup. “pull de vool over dere eyes!”

thus cues the music portion of the cartoon. a spotlight shines on a sign introducing porky as “the jazz king”, much to the pleasure of the audience. a giraffe in the orchestra introduces the song with a clarinet solo of “rhapsody in blue” before getting down to business.

porky, dressed as paul whiteman, conducts whiteman’s “avalon”, as indicated by the music stand. volney white does some great animation here--porky struggles to keep his own weight afloat, his giant pillow-stomach sinking to the ground. he readjusts himself a few times, enjoying the spare seconds of peace where his outfit stays intact, only for the same charade to repeat. fun eye takes and volumetric animation from volney. it’s no coincidence that he was one of tashlin’s best animators.

the crowd shots in this cartoon are not to be overlooked--kudos and apologies for the poor people who had to ink and paint all of that! the crowd dances along to the stylings of porky’s music, including a pair of kangaroos and their joeys slow dancing together.

back to the little penguin waiter from before, tinkering along to deliver a drink. a spare trombone sucks up all of the goods in the glass, prompting a hilarious grimace from the penguin who just stands still, silently glowering before traipsing backwards (mickey mouse timing and all) to refill.

cut to porky, who appears much more jovial. a clever pan out reveals that he’s enlisted in the help of a car jack to keep his extra weight afloat. and, with that, curtains (animation reused from the introduction to tashlin’s porky’s romance) close out on the pig. applause from the audience.

next up, “guy lumbago and his boiled kanadians”, a not-so-flattering nod to guy lombardo and his royal canadians. porky, dressed as a canadian mountee, directs “cryman lumbago”. carmen lombardo, brother to guy, was often poked fun at for the excessive vibrato in his voice--people would liken him to sounding like an old man on his last legs. not only that, but even by the ‘30s, guy lombardo’s music was often dismissed as slow, sappy “old person’s music”. the 1954 woody woodpecker cartoon, real gone woody, also makes fun of lombardo, also dubbing him as “lumbago” and calling him a square.

indeed, cryman lumbago is a decrepit old man with--you guessed it--lumbago, singing in a hilariously obnoxious vibrato. even the dancers in the crocadero stagger along to his vibrato, their dancing stuttering. the benign facial expressions of the crowd, despite all of this, is the perfect cherry on top. one wonders if guy/carmen lombardo ever saw this cartoon, and how they reacted to it...

just as the gag threatens to overstay its welcome (and, admittedly, it has), a screwball assistant who looks like a relative to another random screwball in porky’s duck hunt scoops lumbago into a wheelchair and wheels him off stage. the audience applauds, and there’s a feeling that they aren’t just applauding the music.

cue the most controversial, uncomfortable, yet also complex part of the cartoon: a tribute to cab calloway, or, as he’s dubbed here, cab halloway.

for today i’ll spare you the imagery, but we’re greeted by a (thankfully) rare anomaly in the porky pig-verse: porky and his orchestra are dressed in blackface, conducting a rousing rendition of “chinatown, my chinatown”.

obviously, any and all blackface is abhorrent, but this is an interesting case. it’s clear that this was meant to be an homage and celebration of cab calloway’s music. a certain level of care seems to have been put into this sequence—it’s not a cheap throwaway “haha blackface” gag purely just for laughs. the animation is FILLED with a surprising amount of energy and vitality, and the vocals of the calloway impression are eerily spot on. analyzing the animation from a technical standpoint, it’s VERY skillful. it is NOT easy to convey such high energy and such elasticity. the animation is vivid, rapid, and invigorating. for 1938 especially, such energy is jarring. this feels more like the climax of a 1945 bob clampett cartoon, not a run of the mill 1938 porky pig cartoon.

BUT, with that said, it’s still extremely uncomfortable--blackface is blackface, and just because the techniques behind it are good doesn’t mean the material being animated is good. as i mentioned, the intentions don’t entirely feel as nasty as other examples we have/will seen, but that doesn’t negate the harm it does. you can have affectionate homages to cab calloway and his music without blackface--look at betty boop’s snow white. plus, because the song is “chinatown, my chinatown”, any nuance this scene had is discredited when porky switches from blackface to dressing up as a stereotypical chinese man. uncomfortable and unnecessary--THAT is a cheap throwaway gag.

nevertheless, it’s not in my place to preach about what is racist and what isn’t. speaking purely from a technical standpoint--the techniques and processes that went into the animation itself--this is a very impressive performance. high energy in both music and animation. the elasticity, speed, all of it is very impressive. the content BEING animated, however, has aged like rotten milk. though this isn’t as meanspirited as other instances that we’ll explore, it still absolutely has its problems and definitely encourages mindful thinking.

regardless, the number ends to uproarious applause, and porky successfully lives his dreams of being a bandleader. the cartoon closes on the penguin waiter, once more peddling a drink. just as the offscreen trombone threatens to steal his drink, the penguin swallows it all in one go and blows a raspberry to the trombone as we iris out.

an interesting entry for sure. frank tashlin’s talents cannot and should not be understated--his speed and timing of the cartoon are certifiably one of the most impressive aspects of the cartoon. indeed, a lot of fun music in this one, whether that be underscores or otherwise. the design of the cartoon holds up very well--tashlin’s streamlined backgrounds and layouts are always a treat to look at. porky is very endearing, especially in the beginning with his imitation of all of the bandleaders, and the incomprehensibility of the walrus is too funny not to laugh at.

of course, the elephant in the room is the ending tribute, which we already discussed. from a technical standpoint, the vivacity of the animation should absolutely be commended and appreciated, especially this early on. the music is VERY fun. but blackface is blackface, and it just hasn’t aged well and comes off as uncomfortable--at least--regardless.

with that, whether you choose to watch this cartoon is up to you. i think this is definitely one of tashlin’s best porky cartoons, and despite its gags and references that have now become dated, it still serves as an enjoyable watch. the whole blackface thing, however, is why this isn’t a cartoon i frequent often. i would trepidatiously recommend this, either skip the calloway sequence or watch it with an open mind. in all, a fun cartoon that i unfortunately can’t quite appreciate to its fullest extent.

with all that said, here’s a link!

#lt #looney tunes #porky at the crocadero #tashlin #reviews #long post #racism tw

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dhwty-writes · 4 years

Text

Chapter 5 - A Broken Princess

This one is angsty like... all over. That was not the plan. I regret nothing. Feel free to shout at me in the notes and in my askbox:)

Also, thanks to @persony-pepper for betaing this chapter!

Summary: Ciri does neither trust nor like Jaskier, so Geralt has to try and talk with his old friend.

Read on AO3

Part 1 | Part 5 | Part 7

He would lie if he said he wasn't relieved that Jaskier had agreed to him training Ciri. The week before had been nothing short of torture, and Geralt was slowly going mad without any task to set his mind upon. And it wasn't even like the winters in Kaer Morhen where there was always something to fix, always someone to train with, always some creature to hunt. The ancient ruin was a wild place with more than enough opportunities to keep a witcher occupied.

Lettenhove Hall was none of that. It was a well-kept castle with enough servants to see to every minor inconvenience. There were no monsters either and while the guards were friendly enough, they didn't seem to look forward to training with him.

He had found out that there were twenty of them in total, quite a lot for a castle as small as Lettenhove. Besides the occasional piercing glare, though, their interactions were non-existent. He could leave the castle, he had discovered, without so much as a blink from the garrison. 'At least I am no prisoner,' he remembered thinking relieved; but there wasn't really anywhere to go. He had ventured out a few times to explore Jaskier's lands but that had become boring quickly enough. Only once he had been reminded not to stray too far, as the viscount expected him for dinner in just an hour. Generally speaking, Geralt was fine with that. Only bored.

He was in the stables a lot, enjoying the quiet company of the horses and Wiktor. Sometimes the old equerry even asked him to take one of the noble horses for a ride, if the Pankratz siblings neglected them for too long.

Józefa still came by almost every day, trying to seduce him, but he could tell that she wasn't really trying anymore. He almost hoped she would. Instead their conversations had turned to playful banter from her part that he answered with silence, grunts and the occasional barbed remark. It might have been fun if it didn't emphasise the fetterless behaviour he and Jaskier had shared. Being treated quite similarly by his sister, who resembled the bard in everything but looks, made their estranged relationship all the more painful.

So, Geralt was glad that he could train Ciri now. He finally had something to do again, although that had not been his plan. He had hoped that Vesemir could instruct her, and that his brothers would help. That would have been nice. He also already feared the tongue-lashing that awaited him once Vesemir saw all the bad habits Ciri learned from him. It didn’t matter how many years passed since he had left Vesemir’s care and Kaer for good, his old teacher always found things to critique him for.

Now that he had a student for himself, he began to understand it. He had permission to chase her across the courtyard and snap at her for her sloppy poses and weak slashes for the entire morning, from breakfast until lunch — Jaskier had told him in no uncertain terms that he would have no repetition of that first day, though he didn't mention why. Geralt had suspicions, mainly having to do with the fact that Jaskier was very irritated when Geralt berated Ciri harshly. And that he was much more amenable when they didn't cross blades quite as often, reducing the noise to a minimum.

Geralt was fairly happy with standing at the sidelines, although he caught himself embarrassingly often mimicking Vesemir's poses. And his comments. And even his damned tone, Melitele's tits.

To avoid that, he had taken to tracing the buttercup carved into the pommel of his sword, wondering for how long Jaskier had gone by that ridiculous name. He didn’t know when he had started thinking of it as his sword. He also wasn't sure which of the two new habits was worse.

It was his third day of training Ciri. Shortly after lunch, from which Jaskier remained absent, Geralt was just changing into what had deemed his stable clothes when he heard some kind of noise next door.

Geralt sighed and quickly pulled the shirt over his head before knocking on Ciri's door.

"Fuck off," he heard her swear and he winced. The cuss words had been a bad idea; she was taking too much after him already.

"Ci- Fiona, it's me. You better be dressed, ‘cause I'm coming in." He turned the doorknob and cursed quietly when he found it locked. "Open up!" he demanded.

"I don't want to," she answered.

"You're supposed to go riding with Lord Julian."

"I don't want to!"

"He's even gifted you a new riding cloak-"

"I don't want it!" Ciri shouted. "I don't want any of it! Leave me alone."

Geralt sighed heavily and leaned his forehead against the door. 'What the fuck was I thinking?' he asked himself not for the first — and surely not the last time. He had just seen what disaster the law of surprise brought, why the fuck had he claimed it? From the Lioness of Cintra's son-in-law no less. 'If there ever was going to be a bratty child,' he thought glumly, 'it was destined to be this one.'

He took a deep breath and told himself: 'Remember Kaer Morhen. At least it's not snot-nosed Lambert.' That made him feel a bit better.

After a few moments he tried again: "Do you want to... talk about it?" Gods, what was this child doing to him? 'I really love you, Ciri. You better fucking appreciate it.'

There was a quiet sniffle. "You don't do ‘talking’."

"Hmmm," he made. "Not if I can avoid it. Gotta take care of my pup, though. Cub." There was a beat of silence. "I can go get somebody else-" Before he could finish that sentence, the door opened and the air was punched out of his lungs as Ciri dove in for a hug. "There," he said, awkwardly patting her back, "that's better." He looked around for passing servants and when he heard footsteps, he simply picked her up and walked over to her bed after closing the door behind him.

Geralt gently cradled his child surprise in his arms and held her while she cried. She hadn't cried for quite some time now, not since their arrival in Lettenhove, but now the scent of salt-sadness and onion-grief was overwhelming.

He had never felt so helpless as when the concoction had first startled him awake, not three days after finding her. Ciri had just laid on her side, quietly crying into her bedroll and Geralt had had no idea what to do. His first instinct had been to go back to sleep and leave her her privacy but then — and he firmly believed it to be an accident — she had weakly croaked: "Help- Grandmother- Geralt-!" He had never been on his feet faster, scrambling to her side, afraid to get too close, afraid to startle her, afraid to hold her. "What can I do?" he had pleaded. "Tell me, what can I do?" And then, to his never-ending surprise, she had crawled into his arms — 'No, that's wrong, children hate witchers.' — and hugged him close, drenching his shirt with her tears.

Once, after, he had asked her if she was still scared of their pursuers. There had been only one answer: "I'm not scared anymore. You're scarier than all my nightmares." That had been the day Geralt had discovered that he was a coward. He never dared ask why she didn't reek of fear, then.

He had never gotten better at comforting the little cub since that first night. Somehow, she still relaxed faster every time. 'That's wrong,' his traitorous head snarled, 'she shouldn't. No child should feel safe with a witcher close.' Only, this one did. She had never smelt of fear, not after she first set eyes on him. 'Like Jaskier.' And like Jaskier she had wormed her way into his heart way too fast.

After a while the crying stopped. "Are you alright, little cub?" he whispered.

Ciri looked up at him, tears drying on her cheek. "Geralt... do we have to stay here?"

Something in his chest tightened. 'Oh no,' he thought. "We're safe here," he said slowly. "Lord Julian will protect us. Until the snow thaws."

"Hmm," she made. Another bad habit she got from him and he felt his knees grow weak. 'What am I supposed to do when she wants to leave? I can't- We can't- We won't make it.'

"You can trust him," he tried again. "He-" He wanted to say: 'He would give his life for ours.' But then he realised that he didn't know if that was true anymore. "He is a man of his word," he said instead.

"I think he doesn't like me," she confessed quietly.

"Now that's just untrue," Geralt frowned. "Lord Julian adores you. And he's done a lot of nice things for you."

She shook her head adamantly. "I think he doesn't like me because I came here with you. He doesn't like you."

'Oh.' His heart clenched painfully. She was smarter than it was any good for her. He should have known that he couldn't keep it from her. "That's true," he admitted. "At the moment. He'll come around. Eventually."

"Why?" she asked earnestly. "I thought you were friends."

"I-" he faltered. How could he even begin to describe what they were? What they had been? 'What we are now.' He hung his head in shame. "We were. I think. And I've done a bad thing. That I know."

"And he's angry?" Ciri's eyes were blown wide.

"Very," Geralt confessed quietly, "and rightfully so."

"What did you do?" There was no reproach in her voice, no accusation. Only... compassion. Somehow that made him feel even worse.

"It's complicated."

"Did you cheat at knucklebones?"

That almost made him laugh. "No. Worse."

"Did you cheat at Gwent?"

"No, Ciri-"

She gasped. "Did you cheat on him?"

"I'm not- we're not-" He sighed. "That's not it either."

"What could be worse than that?"

"I... I wasn't very nice to him. For a long time. I said mean things. And I yelled at him."

Ciri frowned. "I don't understand. My grandparents did that all the time!"

"Yeah, me too, but- it was different with... with us. I hurt him. I don't think I can explain."

"Can't you try?" she pleaded.

"I am trying, Ciri. I'm sorry." Geralt sighed quietly. "I'll talk to him. Alright?"

"Good." She smiled at him, all child-like and innocent and naive. 'She is all of that,' he reminded himself. "I can hold you when you cry, too, you know,” she said solemnly. “You can't sit in my lap but I can hug you. My arms can fit around your chest, look!” She embraced him to prove it. “If you want to, that is."

There was a thick lump in his throat he didn't know what to do with. "I- thanks. That's very nice." He swallowed, hoping it would make the lump go away. It didn't. "Why uh- why don't you go find Marta to tell her you won't go riding with Lord Julian?"

She ducked her head. "Can you do that? Please? I'd rather be alone for a while." He nodded. That was better. That, at least, he could understand.

"Yeah, sure." Somehow the lump got even worse. "I'll- I'll be in the stables if you need me. I'll see you… later." Reluctantly he got up and placed her on the bed. She took a book from her nightstand — where had she gotten that from? — and smiled at him encouragingly before he closed the door.

It was surprisingly hard to leave her behind to hunt down Marta. Thrice he turned around to go back to her, to make sure that she really was okay and thrice he reminded himself that she would tell him if there was something he could do.

It was in the well house that he stumbled upon Marta, the poor woman in evident distress. "Witcher!" she said and he noted that the smell of fear had gotten less than last time. "I am looking for his Lordship's cousin, have you seen her?"

"She won't be able to go ride with him," he told her. "She is- indisposed."

"Oh." She faltered. "Is she quite alright?"

"I believe so. She just isn't in the mood for company."

"Oh," the serving girl said again. "Then, uh-" The scent of fear flared up again. "I guess I'll better tell his lordship."

"Hm," Geralt made. He could do that just as well. Get the whole conversation over with. Then again, he should probably go and- sort out all about the sorry state he was in. A few hours with the horses should do the trick. He would go talk to Jaskier later.

He shouldered past Marta and quickly slipped into the stables, relieved that Jaskier was nowhere to be seen. He needed some time to himself, too.

The steady work of brushing down the horses granted him exactly that. It was easy for him to slip into an almost meditative state of mind, ignoring the busy stable hands walking about, going after their own tasks.

That was also why he didn't respond to the calls until a hand dug rather harshly into his shoulder. "Witcher," Janina Pankratz hissed, "I am talking to you."

He turned towards her slowly, immediately overwhelmed with the sour stench of fear and hatred like the smell of infected wounds. "My lady? I was caught up in my thoughts."

She snorted. "I could see that plainly."

He looked at her, waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, he asked: "Why are you here, my lady?" He hadn't seen her in the stables yet, and if he was honest, he hadn't thought she would go inside. No matter how well they mucked out the boxes, the place always seemed a bit too dirty for a lady as she was.

"I wanted to talk to you."

'Gods above, anything but that.' He swallowed the sour grimace down. "About what?"

"My lady."

"Excuse me?"

She pursed her lips. "My brother might let your lack of manners slide, but I won't. You will address me correctly."

He ground his teeth. "Sure. About what, my lady?"

"Gods, can't you even form whole sentences?" she sighed.

"I could," he answered. "But I won't. My lady."

Janina Pankratz sneered and for a moment he thought she was about to raise her hand at him. But then, she took a deep breath and said with a surprisingly calm voice: "Our cousin you delivered to our gates. You get along well with her."

"Yes, I do. My lady."

"How?"

His eyebrows twitched upwards. 'You don't have time for a tale nearly as long, my lady,' he thought. 'Nor do you care enough for it.' But even he knew he couldn't say that. So instead he answered: "I am kind to her, my lady. I do not laugh, nor scowl, nor raise my voice at her. I tell her jokes and stories and smile when she is funny. I listen to her." 'I hold her when she cries.' He didn't dare to say that. "That is all, I think. My lady."

She wrinkled her nose and for a moment it was as if he was looking at Jaskier's mirror image. 'If she smiled,' he caught himself thinking, 'they could be mistaken for twins.' But then again, Jaskier didn't smile either, at the moment. "That is quite a lot," she replied.

'That is nothing,' he thought. "I reckoned you wanted a true answer, my lady."

"Now, I do not have nearly enough time for that," she answered. "I need you to get her to like me. Starting with that she won't swear at me any longer."

He couldn't keep from snorting. "And why would I do that? My lady."

"Because else, I will ensure that your miserable life will be even more miserable from now on."

"His Lordship won't like that."

"His Lordship won't know that."

'Are you sure about that?' he thought and raised an eyebrow. "What have I even done to you? You have despised me from the moment I stepped over the threshold of Ja- Lord Julian's castle."

He felt a tiny bit of satisfaction when he saw her face twist into an offended grimace at the mention of Jaskier's claim over the fortress. "Maybe so," she responded, "the crimes your kind has committed against me and mine are more heinous than any human could imagine." She gave him an once over. "Not too heinous for you, tough, I reckon."

'Ah. That old song again.' He ducked his head obediently. "If you say so, my lady."

"Oh, so you do know respect. You really should teach that girl you have brought with you some," she said coldly, "Before Lord Pankratz will beat it into her."

Geralt paled. "He wouldn't-"

"He would. He knows the effectiveness of that particular treatment quite well himself, after all." She turned on her heel and left the stables the same moment he felt the brush crack and splinter in his hand.

Geralt had quite enough, he decided, as he threw the useless brush away and rushed out of the stables and up to his rooms to get his sword. He needed to put its edge to... something.

Followed only by the curious looks of the guardsmen, Geralt strode out of the main gates, his scabbard slung loosely over his shoulder. He left the road quickly enough, just fleeing from that wretched castle with that wretched inhabitants and that wretched atmosphere.

Just out of earshot, he pulled the steel sword free and swung it against an innocent tree with such a force that the whole trunk quivered. He didn't even know what exactly had managed to work him into such a rage, but at that moment he didn't particularly care. He just was glad that he had found an opponent who would neither complain nor break while he hacked away at it.

He didn't know how long he had been doing that before he was interrupted: "Ho, witcher!" There was the sound of a horse coming to a halt. "Shouldn't you rather use an axe for that?"

Geralt grunted and twirled around, his steel sword pointed at the poor soul that had picked that unfortunate moment to come his way. The guard on the other end seemed unimpressed and simply pressed the blade away. "What is it? Do you regret talking me into letting you in already?"

He blinked stupidly, before lowering the weapon. Of course, he knew the man. It was the guard who had opened the gates to them. Geralt grunted: "Immensely."

"And here I thought you— what was it you said? — 'a friend of his lordship's son'? Has your 'friend' scorned you?"

"We're not- on good terms at the moment."

The guard laughed. "Yeah, we are aware. You're quite the talk of the castle. But you've already been that before arriving." He shrugged. "Never seen Master Julian quite like this before."

"Me neither."

"Apologies. I have forgotten that you've known him longer than I do. So." He clapped his hands. "What has the little brat done now?"

Geralt stared in surprise, taking in the man standing before him. He wouldn't have judged him much older than Jaskier himself but then again, he had never been good at judging the age of humans. "Wasn't him," he snapped.

"Ah." A wicked grin spread on his face. "Lady Janina."

Geralt hummed his assent, wondering how he'd known.

"Don't worry," the guard said gleefully, "we've all been there before. She's not half as bad once you get to know her."

He snorted. 'I doubt that anyone really 'knows' her.'

"There's nothing you can do about it for now. Just take it and suck it up."

Geralt nodded. He knew how to do that.

"I'm Marin by the way." He stuck his hand out and Geralt wracked his brain, trying to remember where he had heard that name before.

"Geralt." He took the offered hand.

"Let me know if you ever want to swing your sword at something livelier than a trunk. I'd love to have fought a witcher once in my life."

The snort was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "I'd wipe the floor with you."

"Bold words for a man who could barely stand upright a week ago," he teased. "Come back to the castle with me and we'll see about that?"

Geralt looked back at the tree he had massacred. Fighting a human guard was no replacement for his brothers in Kaer Morhen but at least he would put up a fight. He shrugged and sheathed his sword, turning to walk back to the castle with him. To his surprise, Marin fell in step beside him instead of mounting his horse again.

"How did you even find me?" Geralt asked.

"Poacher in the area," he answered. "Lord Pankratz asked me to track him down."

He grunted.

"Don't worry, Geralt. There won't be any consequences, most likely. Well, besides a stern talking to and the lad being sent home with a bag full of food for his family." He shrugged. "His Lordship's got a soft heart. Softer than most."

"Too soft," Geralt growled before he could stop himself.

The guardsman shrugged. "Probably. You're good with horses, yeah?" he asked.

Geralt hummed. "Not half bad, I guess."

"You must be. Wiktor won't let anyone ride their majesties. Not even his second in command. I guess I'll have to ask his Lordship for a new one in spring. This beauty won't make it much longer."

"Old?" he asked, trying to mask his surprise. With the fear Marta seemed to possess of her lord, he hadn't expected Jaskier's guards to be nearly as comfortable asking for something as expensive as a horse. On the other hand, most of the people in Lettenhove seemed to regard Jaskier with polite respect — not the blind fear that reigned almost everywhere else.

"And weary," Marin added. "Got him almost twenty years ago, when I joined Lord Alfred's guard, may he rest in peace."

"You've always been here?"

"Pretty much," he shrugged. "I was born up in the Hall, son of a kitchen wench and Old Lord Julian, his Lordship’s grandfather that is, if the rumours are true. And the rumours are always true when it comes to the bedwarmers of the Lord." He laughed. "Well, mostly."

Geralt shot him a look. He wasn't actually interested, he told himself, just polite.

Thankfully, Marin didn’t need much encouragement: "We expected half the personnel to end up in Lord Julian's bed within a moon's turn of his arrival - he’s got quite a reputation, after all. But he leaves the girls and boys alone. Good lad.” There was a slight pause before he continued: “And, well..." He grinned sheepishly. "I think we all lost a fair share of money with your arrival. Borys, the idiot, said you'd fuck him right then and there-"

Geralt felt his ears grow hot and quickly snapped: "We're not like that!" He was definitely not comfortable discussing- any of this, really, with anyone. The thought that there were not-so-secret discussions about them-

"Really?" The look of surprise on Marin’s face was genuine. "Could've fooled me. Well, I've got my bet still running, I said-"

"Marin..." he growled menacingly.

"Right," the guard answered and the tiniest smell of fear wavered off him. "Taking the hint..." They stepped through the gates and he handed the reins of his horse to a stable boy.

"Welcome back, captain," one of the other guards greeted him. 'Ah,' Geralt thought. 'Fuck.' "Any luck with the poacher?"

"Not yet, Borys" Marin answered and turned to Geralt. "So, about that spar..."

He shook his head. "Gotta talk to Lord Julian before," he answered. "Any idea where to find him?"

The captain of the guard made a gesture that Geralt roughly interpreted as 'fuck if I know' and shrugged. "His study?"

His study was usually a good place to start looking for Jaskier. He was there, mostly — no matter what time of day it was. It was quite worrying, if he was honest, how late the viscount still worked at times. And work he had to, for Geralt was now certain that no one in Lettenhove Hall shared his bed.

That was one of the many things that had changed since Geralt's return. Jaskier's unmistakable smell — as well as his apparent new-found aversion to frequently changing bedfellows. As long as Geralt had known him, the bard had smelt of honey-sweet happiness and cinnamon arousal and not much else. He hadn't caught a single whiff of that yet at his home.

When he stepped out onto the courtyard again, it was Borys who called to him: "Witcher! His Lordship's on the rampart if you're looking for him. Doesn't want to be disturbed, though."

Geralt ignored that council — he had made Ciri a promise after all and climbed the walls, taking two steps at a time. No one tried to stop him.

It took him a while to walk around the battlements, but he found Jaskier eventually on the west side facing the setting sun. He sat between two merlons and the sight of him dangling one leg over the side made Geralt's heart skip a beat and his feet tingle, his body burning with the pressing need to pull him away from the edge. But then the air carried over Jaskier's scent and for a moment the overwhelming scent of honey was like a punch in the gut.

Geralt almost turned around to leave Jaskier to his moment of bliss — he knew that there were not nearly enough of those in the viscount's life at the moment. The thought alone hurt much worse than any wound he had ever been dealt. Jaskier, the ever-laughing bard, who knew more ways to make Geralt smile than anyone else combined, who had spent hours pestering him for just a little bit of relaxation (not happiness, that would be too much to ask), who never failed to make anyone laugh until their sides hurt, whose smile was like sunshine on a rainy day — his bard Jaskier, had forgotten how to be happy. Who was he to destroy that precious moment of contentment?

'I promised it,' he reminded himself again and moved forward. He made sure to make the heels of his new boots clack on the floor (they had just appeared in his room one morning, the perfect size and fit as he preferred it, without explanation, and Jaskier had been absent for the entire day) to announce his presence.

"My lord," he greeted him, "is there room for one more?"

The effect of his words — his presence — was instant. Jaskier didn't even have to look at him, in the blink of an eye all the honey was washed away, instead replaced by salt and bitterness. 'The taste of tears and willow bark.' Jaskier opened his eyes, and for a moment, he thought there were tears on his cheeks. 'Please, no, Melitele have mercy. I can't go through this again today.' But then, his not-friend made an inviting gesture and the glistening in his eyes grew lesser.

Geralt leaned against the merlon facing him, observing Jaskier’s placid expression. "I see you are enjoying the quiet, my lord," he said after a while. "I never thought I'd see the day."

"I'm not quite sure if I would call it enjoying, witcher." He closed his eyes again and shivered visibly when a gust of wind blew over the wall. 'He hasn't even brought a cloak,' Geralt noticed, vowing to bring a blanket the next time. "But I have to admit it has a certain crude charm. Just like the woods. I have grown fond of the wild it seems."

"And yet you have exchanged it for a cozy castle."

"I was under the impression the wild did not return my affection." The bitter taste of willow bark-pain grew stronger.

Geralt grunted to hide the anguish that flashed through his body. 'I never wanted to,' he thought, foolishly wishing for Jaskier to be able to read his thoughts again.

"Talk to me, witcher," Jaskier commanded. "I fear the quiet has lost its appeal."

"About what?"

Jaskier waved his hand dismissively. "Think of something. A story, perhaps. What did you do today?"

"Trained your cousin," he answered dutifully, "Been to the stables. Been threatened by your sister. Ciri as well. Your new horse is a bit slow, my lord."

“Oh, she will regret that…” he murmured. Then, after a while he said: "You have ridden Pegasus?" Jaskier cracked one eye open. "Wiktor won't let me go near him!" The indignation in his voice made Geralt sigh a breath of relief. He was always glad to see the remnants of the person he had known for so long under the stoic facade of the viscount.

"Well, you can ruin a new horse if you don't know what you're doing."

He opened his other eye, too. "Are you saying I am a bad rider?"

'I know you aren't.' Jaskier was a frequent face in the stables, either to sneak the horses too many treats while the stable boys stood uncomfortably to the side, unsure if they could reprimand their lord for missteps that would earn them a good beating from Wiktor, or to borrow one of the horses. He knew that Jaskier didn't have any real preferences besides always shunning his father's steed, Titan. He also knew that he liked to ride fast. And Geralt knew that his heart skipped a beat whenever he saw Jaskier leap into the saddle and speed out of the gates. He was, however, also fairly certain that Jaskier had no idea what to do with Pegasus while he was not broken to the bridle yet. "I am saying that you need to know how to train a yearling to ride a yearling."

"And you know how to do that?"

"Do you think horses just come trained not to fear most monsters and to follow a whistle already?"

Jaskier nodded. "Colour me impressed, witcher. Who would have thought a liar as atrocious as yourself could keep such a secret from the man who followed his every step for over half of his life?"

Geralt grunted, fully aware of the not-so-hidden reproach in his words.

"Use your words, witcher."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I'm not sure if that's an insult or a compliment."

Jaskier sighed heavily and the scent of sadness grew so thick Geralt thought he must choke. "Neither am I..."

Once Geralt had collected himself, he asked casually: "How's your cousin, my lord?"

Jaskier very nearly pouted. "She doesn't like me."

He snorted. "Funny. She's saying the same about you."

"What am I doing wrong?" He frowned. "She's a very frightened child, yet you and Józefa get to talk to her."

Geralt smiled softly. "Do you want my honest advice?"

"In this case, I fear I am in desperate need of it."

"Just be yourself. She likes... nice things. I thought you might bond over that."

"I tried that. But whatever I do, she is not overly impressed."

"Hm," he made.

Jaskier didn't answer anything for a while. But what he said then, made Geralt very nearly lose his footing and make him tumble over the battlements: "She doesn't like me because she thinks I don't like you." The viscount turned his face towards him. "Isn't that right?"

"Hmm," Geralt made. 'That is pretty spot on,' he thought. "When did you become so good at reading people?"

"Long before I met you." Jaskier looked over his lands again. "You were the only person I was ever wrong about."

"How so, my lord?"

"From the moment I saw you, I thought you to be incapable of hurting anyone wilfully." A sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Never have I regretted a misconception more in my entire life."

Geralt swallowed around the thick lump forming in his throat, unsure what to say or if Jaskier was even waiting for a response.

Evidently, he was, for he sighed a short moment after and got to his feet. "Good night, witcher," he whispered before vanishing down the stairs.

"Good night, my lord," he echoed into the lonely evening. What on earth was he supposed to do with that?

#My writing #of witchers bards and broken hearts #OWBABH #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #cirilla #geraskier fanfiction

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ravenloveless13 · 4 years

Text

Pack Ties (Pack Ties Series)

"Pack Ties?" Remus asked, putting the kettle in his hand to turn and look at Lily.

“Yes, apparently it is a magical contract” Lily replied back as she carefully reads the large book that rested on the kitchen table while with her other hand, she was thoughtfully stroking her swollen belly “a werewolf creates this magical bond with the members of their family, that way when the full moon comes and he loses control, they would be the only ones he could not hurt”

Remus took the two cups of tea; Lily's, with milk and sugar, and his only with sugar. He brought them to the table to sit across from his friend. That was his day to "take care" of Lily because since she had become pregnant, James had become paranoid about her safety and although all the marauders knew that the redhead was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, no one in their right mind would attempt Lily's wrath in this state. They had agreed that for Jame’s and their peace of mind (because James could become a real pain in the ass when he gets worried about Lily and the baby safety) one of the marauders would stay with his wife if he had to go out on an Order mission. On that day it was Remus's turn and although he loved spending time with his friend, he was a bit nervous about it since the night of the full moon is near.

"I've never heard of that," he said once he took a seat across from Lily and handed her her cup of tea.

“Well ... apparently it is an extremely ancient ritual, but it is not entirely proven. This contract does not guarantee that the werewolf will preserve their human mind during the transformation as the Wolfsbane potion does, but it does guarantee that the wolf does not attack their family. It says that the contract links the magic of the wolf and the other person, making it feel like they're part of their pack.

"Hmmm makes sense..." Remus muttered as he leaned back into the chair and stared at his reflection in the cup of tea in front of him.

During several of his missions from the Order, Remus had encountered several wizards with the same curse as him and had observed that no matter what, they never hurt each other on the full moon.

"We should try," Lily said smiling as she closed the book.

“Hey?”

“We should try it, maybe that will help you not to have so much pressure during a full moon. We could all join you, that way you could finally spend the nights here with us instead of in the woods”

“Lily I don't think that's a good idea, it's too dangerous”

“So are all those missions that Dumbledore makes you do and you do not protest about it.” “Those are different…”

“How is that different ...? Remy, whether you like it or not, you are part of this family, we’re your pack. James, Sirius, Peter, and I care a lot about you, especially when you have to spend the full moon all alone. And now with this war that breathes us, the ingredients for your potion will become scarce and those idiots will find it difficult to accompany you. Also when Harry is born I will not allow you to get away from us. Let us try this, please. Look, the ceremony must be done under the new moon which will be super safe. James and the others can get the ingredients that we need and I'll make the potion, so you don't have to worry about a thing…Hmmm, I wonder if by drinking it now Harry will be bonded or if we will have to do it all over again when he's older? Well, it doesn't matter.”

Remus let his friend keep talking to herself while she planned and organized everything. He just couldn't say no to her and understood that Lily wanted to help him. After all, ever since she joined them and discovered that the boys had turned into Animagi to help him, she had not only kept the secret but was responsible for making and giving him his Wolfsbane potion whenever she could. Remus's mind wandered off a bit at the thought of not being dangerous to his friends. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but he couldn't deny the fact that if the potion could work, then it would take a huge weight off his shoulders. Knowing that no matter what, he wouldn't hurt James, Sirius, Peter, Lily, and soon Harry, allowing him to breathe calmly.

"So Remy, what do you say… shall we give it a try?" Lily smiled excitedly with bright eyes. It had been so long since Remus had seen her so excited about something that he just chuckled before sighing.

“Even if I tell you no because it is dangerous and maybe it won't work, I know you will ignore me and move on or worse, you will make our idiots bother me until I give in, so why deny me if in the long run you always get away with what you want?” Remus smiled and Lily approached him to hug him or so she tried because she ended up smashing her belly in his face where Remus felt the baby kick him.

"Wooo I think even Harry agrees," she agreed.

♡/~/~/~/~/~♡/~/~/~/~/~/♡~/~/~/~/~/♡

Summer 1985

Uncle Vernon's car pulled up outside the forest that looked dark and scary. The huge man got out of his car still mumbling under his mustache and yanked the back door open before pulling the little boy out of the car.

Harry let himself be dragged by the arm, too scared to say anything. He knew he had done something wrong, although he still did not understand what it had been. All he had done was ate a cookie that had flown into his hand when Aunt Petunia's friends were in the living room drinking tea. Harry had quickly learned that he could have a few extra snacks if he waited for Aunt Petunia's friends to come over for their weekly tea party because being surrounded by other people, his Aunt Petunia couldn't yell at him and wouldn't tell Uncle Vernon because she didn’t want to have to suspense her tea parties. Harry was quite small for his age, but his teacher always said that what Harry lacked in height, he made up for in cunning. And although Harry did not understand the meaning of that word, in his head that must be a good thing because his teacher always said it with a cute smile in her face instead of the typical grimace of disgust that his uncle made him every time they called him an ungrateful freak, two other words that Harry still didn't understand but made him feel bad inside.

Uncle Vernon released Harry causing the little boy to stagger a bit since they were already deep in the forest and if it weren't for the full moon, everything would be pitch black.

"Where are we, Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked, rubbing his arm where his uncle had gripped him so tightly.

"Don't ask questions boy!" The man yelled which caused Harry to turn away in fear, he didn't like it when his uncle yelled at him, that only meant that he was going to get hit or have a long time out in his cupboard, and Harry didn't like either one or the other.

“You are going to stay here freak so that you learn that you should be grateful for the ceiling over your head and keep all your freakiness under control!!”

“bu..but ... it's scary here” Harry is scared but not as scared when he sees his uncle's face turn red in the moonlight.

“But? Did you say but?!” Vernon growled before raising his hand to slap the little boy so hard that made his glasses fall off. “UNGRATEFUL FREAK!!! EVERYTHING WE'VE DONE FOR YOU AND THAT'S HOW YOU ANSWER ME!!! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOUR FREAK FACE AGAIN!!” He yelled before turning and leaving Harry there alone sobbing as he tries to find his glasses.

When Harry put his glasses back on, he realized that he really had been left alone in the terrifying forest. Still sobbing from the blow, Harry winced when he heard a howl in the distance. He remembered that once his teacher had read them a book about animals like wolves, foxes, and owls that usually lived in the woods. Harry's favorite had undoubtedly been the wolf, but the teacher had assured them that these were the most dangerous out there and that they should never approach one or it could eat them.

Trying to ignore the pain from his face due to the slap and his little arm, Harry wiped his nose on his shirt and started walking, unsure of where to go. Maybe if he was lucky, he would find a candy cottage like the one in the story they had started reading at school. They had not finished the story yet because the teacher stopped when Aunt Petunia completed that the teacher was fully their minds with nonsense. Harry remember that his teacher stop the story when the kind old woman let the siblings stay to eat and sleep at her house. Hopefully, Harry might be as lucky as them.

The little boy walked for a long time until he felt Dudley's old shoes hurt him, so he opted to curl up next to a tree to get some rest. He felt really tired because, after the cookie incident, Aunt Petunia made her friends leave and forced Harry to clean up the backyard, which was not strange, however, what was strange for him was that his uncle came later with his face exceptionally red and forced him to get into the car. Harry didn't like the car very much because he would always feel sick or slide down from the seat when his uncle made a hard turn, which he had done all that afternoon by not knowing where to go. When night fell, the journey slowed down, Harry thought they were heading home. The truth was he didn't understand why his uncle had taken him on such a strange ride when it was clearly noticeable, from the rudeness that he kept mumbling, that he was very angry with Harry. But now lost in that dark forest, Harry understood that this had not been a fun ride because he doubted his uncle would come back for him.

The howls were heard again closer now and Harry snuggled up in fear. A wolf was nearby and he sounded angry, very angry. Suddenly, in the moonlight, a huge wolf appeared in front of Harry. It had a stunning brown fur that Harry would have liked to be able to pet if it hadn't been showing its teeth as it growled.

Harry froze and for some strange reason in his mind, he was grateful that he didn't feel like going to pee as he wouldn't have liked being eaten by a wolf with his pants wet. The wolf's footsteps were silent as he approached Harry, still growling as his nose moved frantically in his direction. Harry noticed that the wolf's eyes were a beautiful amber color that did not leave his face. When Harry felt the hot breath of the wolf breathe on him, the little boy closed his eyes and tried not to cry in fear but the tears were already running down his face.

Suddenly and without any explanation, a large and wet tongue licked Harry's face, causing the little boy to giggle when the wolf licked him again, this time down to the base of his hair which remained half stopped by saliva.

"No Mr. Wolf, don't do that," Harry laughed as the wolf continued to lick his face, however when it licked his cheek where his uncle had hit him, Harry let out a groan of pain.

The Wolf pulled away and growled as Harry was startled again for a moment as he thought he had made him angry. The Wolf began to walk in circles, growling even louder before letting out a furious howl. The boy did not move but something inside him told him that although the Wolf seemed angry, he was not angry with him.

After a while of walking in circles, the Wolf approached Harry again, staring at him. The emerald green eyes were lost for a moment in the amber gaze until a growl came out of the boy's stomach which made him look away in embarrassment. With all the fright of being lost in the woods, Harry had completely forgotten how hungry he was, after all the last thing he had eaten had been a cookie.

The Wolf who had sat across from Harry stared at him until he seemed to make up his mind. Then, with great care, the Wolf moved closer to Harry and crouched low enough for the little one to climb onto his back.

"Can I ... can I get on?" Harry asked not quite sure why he thought he understood what Mr. Wolf wanted to say to him.

With a single nod from the Wolf, Harry scrambled up onto the animal's back. Once Harry managed to get comfortable and grab onto his fur, which was actually quite soft, the Wolf got up and started trotting through the forest, not going too fast so he would not scare or make the boy fall.

As the wind was blowing Harry's hair, he wondered for a moment if he was not dreaming because riding such a huge wolf was the kind of dreams that his aunt could considered like stupid nonsense.

After a while, the Wolf led Harry to a small log cottage in the middle of the forest. Harry was a bit disappointed to see that the cottage wasn't made of sweets, but he had to admit it looked like a nice place to live. The Wolf crouched down and let Harry get out.

"Do you live here, Mr. Wolf?" Harry asked and the wolf nodded before getting up on its hind legs to open the door. It seemed unreal to Harry that a wolf could be nearly as tall as his Uncle Vernon. When the door finally opened, the Wolf nudged Harry inside.

Again Harry was a little disappointed that inside the cottage there were no chocolate tables or candy chairs as in the story, however, the boy had to admit that the place was quaint.

The cottage had a single large room where the kitchen was, a table with two chairs and a sofa in front of a fireplace that was lit. Harry also saw some stairs that probably led to a second floor and a basement, but what really caught the boy's attention was a photograph he saw on a pile of books next to the sofa.

The photo was moving! Harry saw in this a very pretty woman with long reddish hair who laughed out loud with her eyes closed as a deer went in and out of the photo making very ridiculous jumps.

‘That is indeed a silly image’ Harry thought, but for some reason, it also made him very happy. Harry didn't realize how long he'd stood there staring at that beautiful photo until he felt Mr. Wolf sting his back with his snout. Turning around, the boy found that the Wolf had brought him apples.

"Are they ... for me?" Harry asked, unable to contain the emotion in his voice and the Wolf nodded. Harry held up the two apples and not caring that they weren't candies like the ones the siblings in the story ate in the cottage, Harry devoured them. Rarely on Privet Drive aunt Petunia would bring apples or any kind of fresh fruit since Dudley hated them, however, once she "forgot" to send Harry his lunch, the teacher had given him an apple and for Harry, it had tasted delicious. The Wolf simply stared at the boy eating the fruit with such emotion and wondered when was the last time the little boy had eaten since he hadn't weighed anything when he had carried it.

When Harry finished his fruit, he spotted a trash can and tossed the apple cores there before yawning. Already calmer and enveloped by the warmth of the fireplace in the cottage, Harry started to feel sleepy. The wolf approached and without waiting for Harry to say something, he carefully lifted him from that big shirt that the boy was wearing and carried him to the sofa, where he sat him before jumping on it and putting his head between his legs.

Harry yawned again and rubbed his eye under his glasses, careful not to bruise his sore cheek. The wolf did not stop looking at him at any moment and when Harry turned to see him, he licked his injured cheek very, very carefully. That had felt different from how Mr. Wolf had licked it in the forest, for some reason Harry felt in his heart that the Wolf seemed to want to push away the pain he felt on his cheek and that only made the boy feel safe with the animal.

“Mr. Wolf ... do you think ... I can stay here with you?” Harry asked when the Wolf stopped licking his face. His cheek didn't hurt so much anymore.

The wolf's amber eyes returned to Harry's and Harry thought that if he didn't say something quickly, the Wolf might say no.

“I promise I will be good, and and and ... and I also can clean the floor and wash the dishes. I even know how to cook eggs and bacon” Harry said quickly with his hands a little shaky. He wasn't lying, he knew how to do that and more because they were the typical chores that Aunt Petunia made him do almost every day, but he still had problems cooking the bacon because it still burned a little because he was afraid of the oil since it had been burned the first time, but he couldn't let Mr. Wolf know that or he wouldn't let him stay.

The Wolf averted his eyes from Harry thoughtfully and suffocating anguish flooded the boy's chest. What if Mr. Wolf says no? where would he go? Uncle Vernon had told him that he never wanted to see his freaky face again which meant he couldn't go back to them. What would he do now that he was homeless?

A soft sob rose from Harry's chest as he hid his little face between his knees. Since he was little the Dursleys had taught him with a strong hand that he must not cry, so Harry always waits for the darkness of his cupboard to let his tears come out if he had had a bad day, and that had definitely been a bad day, at least until Mr. Wolf had arrived. Now with a full stomach and in a warm place, Harry allowed himself to cry because now he was truly alone and forever because no one wanted him.

The Wolf got off the couch and walked over to Harry to look at him as the little boy tried to hold back his tears.

"I ... don't have a home, Mr. Wolf ... please ... please ... let me stay" Harry sobbed.

It was moments like those when Harry felt the loneliest. Where he was aware that there was no one in the world who cared about him. No one would give him a cookie once in a while or worry if he would get hurt or wasn’t home or stay with him at night until he went to sleep.

No one...

Because the only people who could have done that for him were his parents, who had died in a car crash and Harry would never see them again. The Wolf moved closer to the boy and let out a groan of sadness. To Harry, it was as if the Wolf was trying to comfort him or was sad for him, which made him calm down a bit. Perhaps no adult cared for Harry but Mr. Wolf seems to and that was enough to make the boy smile again.

Harry hugged Wolf's head for a while before the Wolf leaped back onto the couch and pulled Harry by his shirt to lie on top of him.

"I promise you will not regret it, Mr. Wolf, I will always be very good and obedient ... so please, let me stay," Harry muttered, hiding his half-asleep face between the brown fur of the Wolf that smelled of chocolate.

♡/~/~/~/~/♡~/~/~/~/~/~/~♡/~/~/~/~/♡

Harry shifted a bit on the couch as the delicious smell of bacon hit his nostrils. Sitting a little sleepy, Harry noted to his delight that he was still in Mr. Wolf's cottage, however, when he looked around, Mr. Wolf was nowhere to be seen.

No, the only thing Harry saw, other than the incredible amount of books and photos that were moving around, was a young brown-haired man in the kitchen with his back to him who was whistling to himself. Harry crouched nervously on the couch. ‘Where was Mr. Wolf? Was that man the owner of the cottage? What if that man made him leave? What if he got mad at him? What if he hurt him more than Uncle Vernon did?’ Harry thought to himself.

The man turned away from the stove and turned, making his eyes fall on Harry, but instead of looking angry, Harry sees happiness in them.

"Good morning Harry," he said approaching Harry, allowing him to notice the different scars that adorned the arms and neck of that man.

"How ... how do you know my name?" Harry asked, forgetting the rule of not asking questions that his uncles had imposed onto him.

The man calmly approached and knelt down in front of Harry who was still curled up on the couch. The man's amber eyes reminded him of Mr. Wolf's eyes.

"I've known you for a long time, Harry, even before you were born," he said calmly looking at the boy with a fondness that Harry had only seen in his Aunt Petunia's eyes when he looked at Dudley.

"Really?" Harry felt something strange inside him that made him trust every word that man said.

“Yes, your parents and I were good friends, practically family.” he said as he raised his hand carefully so as not to scare Harry and stroking his hair.

“Family ... like a pack? That's the family of wolves, isn't it?” Harry asked excitedly to remember something they had taught him at school.

The man looked at him with an expression of surprise and amazement before letting out a very pleasant laugh that caused Harry to giggle. He definitely liked that man, he wasn't scary.

“You are absolutely right cub, like a pack,” said the man taking Harry in his arms, and although Harry had learned to stay away from any type of contact that adults wanted to give him because usually they always wanted to harm him.

But something in that man's eyes told Harry that nothing and no one would ever hurt him if he stayed with him, so the boy concluded that it was okay for him to put his little arms around that adult's neck as well as had done the night before while he slept on Mr. Wolf.

"What's your name, sir?" Harry asked as the man sat him on one of the dining room chairs to put in front of him a plate of eggs with bacon and orange juice.

“Remus Lupin, cub. But you can call me Moony”

#remus lupin #harry potter #werewolves #lily potter #magic #harry potter au #moony #packties

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atrophiedcompassion · 5 years

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having watched TROS for the second (and final) time in the cinema, here’s my full spoiler abundant review, also with comments on the nonalogy as a whole.

the movie works a lot better aka is more enjoyable the second time. we know what’s happening and i could relax and enjoy even the dumb moments and allow myself to feel, to be washed into the music and just feel my good feelings towards the finale.

the plot is still dumb as rocks, with the new old villain, resurrected. who not only is back but is giving our heroes a chance to find him before all shit breaks loose. why is the emperor so fucking arrogant?? why did TROS/JJ keep arguably the worst plot from TLL namely the race against a certain but exact time to do something to save the day?

the rey as palpatine still makes no sense. why did the jedi (in particular obi wan) call to her when she has the first force vision back on takodana if rey’s a palp?? JJ truly pisses on his very own movie isn’t he? and the emperor himself, he wants rey dead, twice he tells this verbatim to KR and then comments the rey killing plot was foiled to commander pryde...but then he actually welcomes her with open arms? or did he foresee his new death by rey should she reach exogol still alive? why should this death stick? ugghghgh.

the movie moves at record pace, no time to grieve, no time to catch your breath. the falcon/poe does impossible feats. the trio is united only to trail rey, finn in particular acting like a puppy. the only scene with finn that had any weight and developed his character was the scene with jannah when they’re fixing the falcon. BUT even then...i thought it was fine for the Force to guide finn out of his servitude. but maybe let the other former stormtroopers have some fuxking free will. not the force guiding them. there were so many moments when finn could’ve inspired former fellow stormtroopers to put down their weapons, but no. the spy could’ve been a stormtrooper, not the ridiculous hux doing things out of spite...

the worst scene in the movie? rey going on a fucking stroll on pasaana to meet kylo ren’s ship...and before that, the knights of ren literally posturing on a rock. i laughed out loud in the cinema it was so utterly ridiculous.

it’s all fucking plains, the fucking audience could see rey advancing through ochi’s ship screens. but somehow chewbacca gets captured and there’s a second transporter. the whole scene plays just so we can set up rey’s sith lightning abilities..?? fucking hell.

c3po’s sacrifice works for me. it’s the first moment of the rewatch where i got truly emotional and shed actual tears. and it’s not really cheapened by his memory being restored, since Finn actually mentions r2 might have a backup which 3po dismisses in his usual fashion. so 3po actually believed he was going to be fully erased. and that’s what matters. i found the 3po humour almost on par with the OT, although sometimes poe’s wayyy too aggressive with him. (i mean, poe loves droids, or at least his droid bb8, but is awfully dismissive of both 3po and D-O, just to fill in the han role i guess? it’s overdone)

the fight on the destroyer/kimiji is ok, again rey with the aggressive stance and the reveal is....nothing. rey has NO fucking reaction. she like scrunches her nose a little. she was just told the JJ equivalent to luke finding out vader’s his dad and rey’s just like. oh okay. bummer.

she should’ve fucking jumped like luke did. and maybe be retrieved on the falcon somehow. she should’ve expressed some pain. but no. rey’s just as calm as before. maybe even calmer, now that she knows the whole truth.

the death star sequence. dumb as hell to imagine the dagger has coordinates to the fucking wreckage of DS2??!??! who made it and when??!?!??! but let’s not overthink this. you get force powered rey making the ride with the skimmer and finding herself attacked by dark!rey..and then kylo come by and apparently knows this? because he tells her that now she’s tainted and can’t go back to leia either??!

WHAT THE FUCKKKK does JJ not know how the fucking force works??? i mean was it a fucking inside joke when han says that’s not how the force works in TFA??? uughghghgh. i know TROS is trying its best to almost completely retcon TLJ, but the way the Force was described there, like a balance, decay from where new life spawns, THAT WAS A GOOD THING FFS!!!!

no, JJ thinks that jedi are all pure beings and sith are dark brooding monsters and if a jedi or equivalent has even the faintest connection to the dark side, they’re fucking done!!!!!! (when the FUCKING OT SAYS THE FUCKING OPPOSITE, even a shred of goodness can help you get back to the light)

and if that was SUPPOSED to be KR’s way of getting rey to join him on his fieldtrip to exogol...my god he’s fucking dumb as hell. rey’s resisted his offer every fucking time (altho during the force call on pasaana he tells her he will turn her and she says we’ll see. she didn’t say no lmao), why would she fucking say yeah sure now? just because she had a fucking vision of dark herself??!?!?

still, dark!rey is fucking hot and i will probably cosplay her sometimes soon.

then comes the kylo - rey fight on the death star wreckage, where she attacks him, she’s aggressive, and is bested. and he’s about to kill her (even though he told her he has other plans, LOL) and then leia calls. or her call to her son finally reaches him (no more voicemail) and he falters, drops the saber and is impaled by rey.......who also senses leia’s passing.

and we have ben again and the scene with han solo plays and it’s pretty fucking emotional. but i wish he had said father and not dad. dad feels unearned. father would’ve worked best, especially for such a serious, stoic char like ben, dad is far too playful. i would’ve wanted a moment more of ben mourning his mother too, but the movie’s gotta be done in 30 mins so we have no time for allowing emotional moments to sink in. note: finn & poe are in such a rush to get to leia they don’t even have time to wait a sec to be told properly that she’s fucking dead. fuck you movie.

the scenes with luke are good. of course, luke backtracks all of his development in TLJ (because fuck you that’s why) and apparently everyone knew she was a palpatine but they still trained her because fuck logic? this is just like the PT where they end up training anakin because they made a promise to a dead guy. lmao. and how convenient is that there’s another lightsaber, otherwise how would rey make an x at the end to (presumably) end palpatine?? hmmm. i said the jedi leia scene/flashback worked for me the first time i saw it, but in hindsight, the scene and motivation really takes a steaming dump on leia’s character, a mother afraid of her son and unwilling to help him. fuck you JJ. we never needed leia wielding a lightsaber. we only wanted leia using the force in some way that felt organic to her character. (sidestep: up until attack of the clones? when yoda first uses a lightsaber, i assumed he was enlightened and didn’t need actual weapons to wield the force. well, i hoped leia could be like that enlightened master yoda. but like all bad things in the SW universe, she ended up being as awful as puppet yoda with a toothpick lightsaber, cause how would we know she’s a jedi otherwise????)

so. because she refused kylo, and ended up alone on exogol and with the resistance trapped there, she’s actually considering palpatine’s offer??! and realises she has maybe another option when she senses ben’s there too??! then why the fuck didn’t they go together??!?! oh wait. i forgot she wanted to exile herself on ach-to LMAO.

and still. the whole palpatine plot train-wreck could’ve still worked had they actually used the pretty cool concept of Force Dyad for something good. i mean, KR tells this to rey on the destroyer. but apparently palp can’t do the math and is surprised when he takes a sip of their life essences??! like what the actual fuck, why isn’t palpatine aware of this?? if he (+plagueis) made vader and then he conceived his son. and then vader had leia and leia had ben and palp’s son had rey........why is KR able to put this together and not the FREAKING MASTER PUPPETEER of the whole fucking galaxy??!?!

anyway. back to the force dyad. we have awsome ben solo and rey reunited. ready to fight palps. but no. he freezes them and sucks the life force out of them. maybe the power of the force dyad of light users could be harmful to a sith?!??! maybe the power of a force dyad would help ben & rey resist palp?! maybe the power of a force dyad could be used to defeat palp?

but no. we get ben solo thrown into a pit so that palp and rey could reenact whitney houston’s hit

or, even worse, the year’s most anticipated battle of one liners: endgame. yeah, it was cool to hear all the jedi clamouring for rey, but this could’ve still worked as the jedi finally supporting ben skywalker organa solo for fucking once in the guy’s lifetime.

but no. JJ said fuck ben solo. he’s only good to give the life back to rey, then he can fuck off. i am not a reylo and i am not too bothered by ben’s death, as much as i am by his misuse. i mean, in such movies, we never really have to deal with reformed bad guys making amends. vader died, and so in a way, ben dying too and not having to be courtmartialled is actually convenient.

i have read some analysis where ben & rey being happy together is the undoing of anakin’s sad demise and brings peace to the skywalker line rather than pain and despair and that’s a valid premise, but realistically, ben’s death makes sense. they’d never be happy together in a hut somewhere, because ben still has to pay for a lot of damage. BUT his death is nothing but the crippling of the skywalker line, after a palp had defeated the palps. his death has little meaning in the story. them being a force dyad has little meaning, apart from powering palps back to his rots appearance. lmao

and finally, the death of ben is never mourned, never acknowledged. no-one is even told on screen about his return to the light (maybe maz felt it, when leia’s body vanished...) and his deeds. that kinda sucks. because luke took a moment to have a ceremony for vader, the force ghosts came through. here...we get nothing.

and then rey buries the anakin saber and leia’s saber on tatooine in sand no less (we need a sketch of anakin loudly complaining to rey about this)... and instead of finally accepting herself as being sufficient, she tacks on the legacy name. well done JJ.

(that was me when the credits rolled).

now, i love the OT more than life itself and the films give us meta to fill libraries. they are not perfect movies, but they are good, they tell a wonderful story with amazing characters and i will never stop loving them.

then the PT is made of really bad movies that now, in the light of TROS, surprisingly still come together as a trilogy far better than the ST lmao.

i still believe that the PT undermines and ruins Vader’s redemption in ROTS, because now you know exactly what he did (reminder: killed 30 children) and it’s hard to swallow. in the end, he dies to save his son and takes down the big bad so we can accept that he gains redemption in luke’s eyes alone and not necessarily in the audience’s. but ben solo didn’t even get that. he got thrown into a pit and crawled out only to give rey life lol.

anyway, TFA was okay at first, but i always had a huge gripe, aka the misuse of Leia and the complete silence on her being a Force user. like don’t even need ligthsaber fights from her, just gimme something explicit of her using the Force. she could’ve at the very fucking least sensed KR when he swoops in and abducts Rey on Takodana. but no. JJ fridged Leia from the get go, because he had no clue what to do with her. and then he fucked her character completely with what he believed was the flashback the fans wanted....UFHGHGHGH

JJ also and truly fridged Luke, because he had no idea what to do with Luke and the whole Force legacy either. he wanted to write a fun Han Solo adventure and by gods he did.

so, Luke. the guy vanishes the opening crawl tells us. he wasn’t abducted, so he must’ve exiled himself. people hating TLJ’s so called character assassination when it comes to Luke should point fingers at the real culprit, JJ. how could Luke do such a thing and run away (like JJ wrote him do) if he hadn’t done something significantly wrong?? it had to be FUCKING HORRIBLE. and so it is. because what Luke did was horrible and it set up for the fall to the dark side of poor, conflicted, manipulated and unloved Ben Solo. but had it not been THIS awful, then Luke’s self imposed exile, shame and guilt wouldn’t have made any fucking sense. so, TLJ haters, think again WHO was the person who wrote Luke running away for 10 years and allowing all that shit to happen?? it wasn’t Rian Johnson, that’s for sure. he merely justified the absence in a way that made sense plot-wise and actually character-wise too.

on repeated viewing, TFA isn’t that good, it’s a rehash of ANH and the stakes are never as good as the original movies. we all kinda know the heroes will save the day

TLJ, i liked, but the canto bight plot really falls flat. this is where RJ did some char assassinations: Poe. Poe is the cocky pilot who singlehandedly destroys the Resistance’s arsenal LMAO. and next scene he turns into sexist macho asshole trope itself, with his immediate and unfounded disdain of Holdo and her plans to keep our heroes safe. so he concocts a harebrained plan that doesn’t work. maybe it was intended as a refreshing look over this trope of barely a plan of the heroes always coming to fruition at the very last second, but the way it’s presented, it somehow really undermines all the characters involved, including newcomer Rose. at the start a breath of fresh air in the age of mindless heroics, the voice of reason, soon enough she too is pulled apart and becomes a sudden love interest...?? she is then reduced to a side’s side char in TROS, but she has space buns, so that’s cool right? that’s what SW is all about, women in space buns. fuck!

and yet, TLJ handled Luke, Leia, KR and Rey wonderfully and laid down some great ideas, Rey having no lineage, the Force Bond between her and KR, the catalyst for KR’s fall to the dark side, the little good in him, as sensed by both Leia and Rey...and set up a finale where, i believed and hoped, KR would be the main villain.

with the trailer spelling the probable return of palpatine, i kinda lost faith in TROS before it even hit the theaters. in fact, my faith in the movie was shot the moment JJ was brought on board.

we had a new villain, another race against time to save the day, and our heroes tell us again and again that it’s fine to share the burden, that they are not alone, that there are more good guys than bad - and when the ARMY OF PEOPLE came to exogol, it’s a wonderful scene. it works for me and it did both times. i know it’s awful that no-one came to leia’s call on crait, but here lando picks up (when lando says hello there, it’s not only panties that drop) half the galaxy, but somehow it still made me well up.

but, despite this very explicit message, our heroine fights alone. she faces palps alone and almost makes a bad decision, is alone in her final battle, is alone at the end. how truly horrible. instead of having ben and rey defeat palps together, rey has to do it alone, out of faux-feminism. it’s sickening. it’s stupid. and that’s not star wars and the star wars message. luke was not alone at the end, he was with friends, with family.

but she’s from a bad bloodline and she should die childless. ughhh. totally not hopeful, totally not satisfying message to have for the finale of the skywalker saga.

#tros #the rise of skywalker #full review

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the-god-of-nihon · 5 years

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Writing Idea: It’s called an AU pt1

RWBY characters interacting with alternate versions of themselves and their friends from different universes.

Future Jaune wakes up in his bed back at Beacon, which is odd considering he went to sleep on a ratty couch in an abandoned house. Also Beacon was destroyed 20 years ago.

_______________________________________________________________________

Jaune roused from his slumber, the softness of his bed urging him to stay where he was, in that moment he knew something was wrong. Jaune distinctly remembered falling asleep on a lumpy couch in an abandoned house within which he took shelter. His eyes shot open, met with the sight of a plain ceiling with a single light fixture in the center; a ceiling he knew but hadn’t seen in nearly 20 years. He sat up stiffly, eyes darting from side-to-side taking in the details of the darkened room around him. The bookshelves, the wallpaper, the curtains, three beds to his right it was all the same; this was undoubtedly his dorm room back at Beacon. Which shouldn’t exist anymore. His fists balled in the sheets underneath him, the sensation should have comforted him.

Who would even know what it looked like, let alone the exact placement of everything? Jaune reasoned, thinking the ability to touch things ruled out visual illusions, an ability to alter perceptions to this extent seemed unlikely, even more so due to the nature of what exactly was presented before him. He glanced at the other sleeping figures in the room wondering half-joking to himself that perhaps he fell into some kind of wormhole. He slowly stood, taking deliberate and careful steps towards the bed closest to him. Where Lie Ren, his former teammate, and brother in all but blood slept as he always did, like a log, so still you could mistake him for a corpse. Ren had been gone for years, and yet here he was, younger than he last saw him, but here all the same. “Then that means . . ,” Jaune hazard a look to the other side of the room, and his feet carried him to the furthest bed from him; He leaned over the sleeping girl in it, and gazed down on the face of a beautiful young woman with long crimson hair.

He couldn’t believe it, “Pyrrha?” Jaune extended his hand to touch her, but stopped partially due to how creepy he suddenly felt, partially due to the fear of finding out this really was a dream. The girl in the next bed over turned over, throwing off the covers off her body revealing Nora Valkyrie in all her glory, snoring and drooling. Jaune felt tears burn at the corners of his eyes, this had to be a dream, it was too good to be true.

A quiet gasp drew his eyes back down to the girl he was still leaning over, whom appeared very confused and shocked, Jaune pulled back quickly sputtering out words to explain himself.

Obviously waking up to find a dirty, armed old man leaning over you, even the bravest of individuals would be at least a bit surprised. So Pyrrha sat up and screamed, and almost immediately a blur of pink and orange slammed him into a wall.

Jaune rolled out the way of Nora’s next attack, but found the barrel of a gun pressed against his cheek. Ren staring him down with a look that promised pain, “Who are you?”

“Ren, Jaune is gone!” Pyrrha who had stood and grabbed her own weapon, was near hysterical not due to intruder, but because their leader had apparently vanished into thin air.

“What have you done with Jaune?” Ren pressed again, rage clear on his face.

“If you did anything to Jaune, I’m gonna make you wish you had never been born!” Nora returned with her warhammer, her usual bubbly disposition nowhere in sight.

“I know how this must look, but please listen to m-“ Jaune held his hands up to show his surrender, and try to explain the situation when Team RWBY busted through the door falling in a heap.

The youngest and leader, Ruby climbed out of the pile, worried expression juxtaposed against her pajamas and sleeping mask. “What’s wrong? Who screamed? Did something happen?” Questions streamed out of her mouth as her teammates worked to untangle themselves. Finally taking in the situation at hand, Ruby saw three of her friends in their pajamas holding a middle-aged man at gunpoint.

“What’s going on here?” Yang asked following up on her sister, “who’s the old guy?”

“We were just getting to that,” Pyrrha replied moving closer to her, letting Ren and Nora keep an eye on him. “When I woke up this man was standing over me, I screamed and Nora tackled him. Then we got the situation under control.”

“So he’s some kinda perv?” Yang cracked her knuckle angrily taking a step towards Jaune.

“But how did he get in the first place, we’re not on the first floor, and the doors require a pass code. He’d have had to break in first, which obviously wouldn’t have been quiet, as you noticed when we made out entrance, and there isn’t any sign of forced entry.” Blake straightened out her yukata, pointing out a logical question.

“We think he did something to Jaune as well, he was gone when we woke up!” Pyrrha threw out quickly, indicating to the empty bed against the far wall.

“What!?” Ruby clearly distressed advanced on the man, shouting at him as she got closer, “Why?! Where is Jaune!?”

“Please just let me explai-,” Jaune attempting to start again gesturing with his hands for everyone to calm down.

“Oh dear, this looks like a mess,” the even tone of Ozpin’s voice clearly not fit for the tense situation, inspecting the broken doorframe, then his eye falling onto Jaune.

“Yes, more people just what we need,” Jaune let out a sigh, he would have face-palmed if not for the weapon digging into his cheek. “Just get CRDL and SSSN we can have a party.”

“There had better be a good reason for breaking school property and causing a racket so early in the morning,” Glynda moved into the room riding crop at the ready, soon finding herself glaring at the man sitting on the ground with weapons pointed at his face. “I do not believe we know you sir, and unauthorized individuals are not allowed on campus.”

“Can I finally explain what’s going on,” Jaune snapped, only to find Glynda’s crop pressed against his nose as well, “right.”

“Now now, let’s at least hear what he has to say, there is a process to these kinds of things,“ Ozpin moved as if he had all the time in the world, “if he is found to be unsavory, he will be dealt with.”

“Always with the dramatics Ozpin,” Jaune wanted to snark more, but his position made it a bit difficult.

“Oh, so you are familiar with me, are you a Huntsman?” Ozpin took a sip of whatever he had in the mug, even after 20 years Jaune had never found out.

“In a way,” Jaune replied as Ozpin motioned for everyone to lower their weapons, “I never actually graduated from an academy, but yeah I’m classified as a huntsman.”

“I’m afraid I can’t remember your face, would you mind telling me your name?” Ozpin smiled his Ozpin smile, friendly, but somewhat disconcerting.

Jaune contemplated for a moment, then exhaled deeply causing his shoulder to sag before looking Ozpin straight in the eye, “my name is Jaune Arc.”

Silence. A beat, then all hell broke loose. A flurry of accusations, threats, and various swears were sent his way.

Glynda’s voice drowned out the other voices, gaining a handle on her students, she once again pointed her crop at Jaune staring him down, “I have little patience for games, if you continue to try my patience you will regret it. Where. Is. Jaune Arc.”

“I am Jaune Arc,” Jaune grabs onto the shaft of the crop returning her intense gaze.

“I’m afraid we are a bit reluctant to believe you, because while there is a Jaune Arc at this institution, he is undeniably a young boy, around the age of 17.” Ozpin gazed at the man over the rim of his glasses, who in turn met his eyes, “which you are obviously not.”

“Clearly. How bout some proof?” Jaune proposed, letting go of his grip in Glynda’s weapon, “I can prove I’m really Jaune Arc.”

“We’ll be the judge of that.” Nora spoke up, a sentiment of which all the other students present agreed on. Since the teachers had arrived she and the other students had calmed down, although clearly they were more than ready to lay into him.

“Okay, my name is Jaune Arc, when I was 17 I started attending Beacon Academy in Vale. I have seven sisters, never went to a combat school, and got into Beacon using fake transcripts.” Jaune gestured with his hands as if to ask if that was enough, “need more? Blake is a faunus, and uses her bow to hide it. When Pyrrha and I first met, she speared me to a wall, and again in initiation. Growing up I had a collection of lucky Pumpkin Pete’s hoodie, and the code word Nora and I agreed on to use in case of body snatchers, or mimics is. ‘Chrysanthemum.”

Nora gasped the biggest gasp to ever gasp, pointed at Jaune shouting, “Oh my god! It is Jaune!”

“Ozpin?” Jaune directed the unspoken question towards the headmaster.

“Hmmm, Miss Belladonna who is aware of your heritage?” Ozpin asked without looking at Blake.

Blake seemed surprised by the question, ‘uh, only my team, who told JNPR with my permission. And a student from Haven who is also a faunus.”

“Miss Nikos?”

“Ah. Uh. . .,” Pyrrha blushed slightly, and coughed into her hand, “Y-yes, I did spear him. His hoodie, I mean, of which he has a surplus.” She finished and opened a dresser, revealing a drawer full of identical black bunny hoodies.

“There, that fit the bill?” Jaune crossed his arms leaning against the wall, “or do I need to go into my family history?”

“How about Crocea Mors?” Ruby piped up, her eyes shift from person to person before settling on Jaune, “I mean, if you’re really Jaune you should have his sword. He told me it was a family heirloom.”

Leave it to Ruby to identify by weapon, “unfortunately I am no longer in possession of Crocea Mors, it was destroyed in a battle, sorry Ruby.” Jaune shrugged, “but that does give me an idea, Ruby do you remember when you first met me- er Jaune?”

“The day when we all arrived at Beacon on the bullheads?” Ruby tilted her head, finger on her chin thinking back, “the day Jaune puked on Yang’s shoes, and I exploded?”

“That’s the one,” Jaune pointed in affirmation, then pulled back his hand and looked at Yang, “Sorry about that. Again. But uh- do you remember how I introduced myself?”

“Yeah, he said ‘The names Jaune Arc, short sweet, rolls off the tongue. The ladies love it!” Ruby quoted, Jaune joining in and repeating the exact same words along with her.

This man so different from the boy she had met that day looked up at her and smiled, the same smile she had seen many times, “Then you asked if they really did, to which I said that they would, or at least I hoped. Then went on about some advice from my mom. We ended up lost, and had to backtrack to find the auditorium.”

“Oh. It- it is you.” Ruby was dumbstruck, not sure exactly how to feel about the revelation. She extended her hand to touch him, but stopped short, “but how? Why are you?”

“Old?” Jaune laughed, “if I had to guess I’m not actually your Jaune, but a Jaune from a point in the future in another timeline.”

“Future? Timeline?” Weiss spoke with a dissatisfied tone, “as in time travel?”

“Another timeline’ implies more than one, it sounds more like multi-verse theory,” Ren replied instead, “essentially a timelines exists for every possible difference, or outcome. Say one day Nora has a choice to eat pancakes or waffles. In one timeline, she chooses pancakes, in the another waffles. Both are equally valid timelines, the only difference being that choice.”

Nora oddly enough seemed to understand fairly well, while playfully smacking Ren on the back. Yang rubs her head in frustration, “so for every possible difference an entirely different timeline exists? Even stuff that doesn’t matter like breakfast food?”

“Breakfast most certainly does matter, it’s the most important meal of the day!” Nora interjecting a bit indignantly at Yang’s words.

“That’s why it’s called the many worlds theory,” Ozpin states swirling the contents of his mug idly, ”although I suppose it’s not much of a theory if this is true. I must say I surprised you’re familiar with the concept, Mr. Arc.”

“Multiverse plotlines are pretty common in comics,” Jaune replied making a bit of a show of being bashful, and clearing his throat.

“How can you be sure you’re from another timeline, and not the future of this present?” As nonplussed as usual, Blake’s even tone and expression helped to mellow the situation.

Jaune shrugging, and giving a small chuckle, “cause this didn’t happen in my timeline, if this was my timeline I’d remember it. In theory at least.”

“In theory, how would all this have happened?”

“I’m not exactly sure how, but I ended up in the bed of this timeline’s Jaune,” Jaune pressed his fist against his mouth in thought, “which doesn’t bode well for your Jaune if we switched places.”

A wave of fear spreads through the students present at this realization, before Jaune speaks again, “if he stays put he probably won’t get into too much trouble, provided he keep calm. But knowing me back then- uh now, he’ll be freaking out, and that might bring Creatures of Grimm to him.”

“We have to do something!”

Jaune spoke crossing his arms, face twisting into a grimace, “not much we can do, considering I don’t even know how I got here, or how I’ll be getting back.”

The fear circulating between the group, turned to dread, as looks were exchanged back and forth.

“Uh, what’s the date?” hoping to change the subject, Jaune drew the group’s attention elsewhere.

“Does it matter?”

“how long until the Vytal Festival?”

“A few weeks,” Glynda replies quickly, “the majority of the students from other kingdoms have begun to arrive.”

“So it hasn’t happened yet,” Jaune’s brow furrowed, “But the breach happened, and security control for the Festival was given to Ironwood, correct?”

“How do yo-“ Glynda began to ask shocked by the question.

“Yes.” Ozpin cut her off, “Roman Torchwick was apprehended and the causalities were kept to a minimum due to quick response of the combined forces of Vale’s huntsmen and huntresses, and the Atlas Military. Why is this significant?”

“Well in my timeline during the finals of the Vytal Festival Tournament, the matches are sabotaged, and a combined attack of the White Fang, Grimm and hacked Atlas machines destroys Beacon, and nearly does the same to Vale.” In that moment Jaune swore he could hear a pin drop, all eyes directed at him in shock.

“W-what?” Ruby squeaks out, taking a step towards Jaune, “is that really going to happen?”

“No way to know until it happens, or doesn’t. Who knows this timeline could be completely different,” Jaune shrugs, and then moves to stand up finally. “But at least considering the events of the Breach are the same, this timeline bears some similarities to mine.

“Whoa wait, isn’t you telling us this gonna like paradox or something?” Yang still reeling places her hands on Ruby’s shoulders.

“Nah, like I said this isn’t my timeline so any changes in this one isn’t going affect mine, probably” Jaune pats Ruby on the head, and grins.

“Do you have any actually proof that’s true?” Weiss asked, always the skeptic.

“Nope, but it’s already done, and we haven’t imploded, so no use worrying about it now,” Jaune waved his hand noncommittally. Weiss prickled in response, reared back about to point out how irresponsible that is.

Ozpin stepped forward directly in front of Jaune, “if it is not too much trouble I would like to hear more about this event.” “Of course not right now, if seems everyone could use some time to process this new information, and tidy themselves up,” the older man analyzing the man in front of him as he sipped away at his mug, “please drop by my office when you feel like continuing.”

“Can do. But yeah should probably let everyone get out of their pajamas at least,” Jaune gestures to his friends still in their sleepwear, with their bed-head.

#RWBY #JNPR #Roosterteeth #Jaune Arc #Ruby Rose #Weiss Schnee #Blake Belladonna #Yang Xiao Long #Nora Valkyrie #Lie Ren #Pyrrha Nikos #Professor Ozpin #Glynda Goodwitch

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maki0725 · 5 years

Text

Klavquill 1-8

The more I write, the more difficult it’s become to make dialogues. In Japanese edition Klavier was in the U.S. to study and he got the prosecutor’s badge in there, but he uses few English words in dialogues (the only phrase I remember is “Let’s rock!”, maybe it is replaced with “Achtung, baby!”). I might have to put in more German words but I don’t know German language at all and it’s quite difficult to write their dialogues in English (also in Japanese...)

By the way seeing first sunrise is popular in Japan, it feels special but it’s cold outside in winter, there are fewer people who go to see it actually than first visit. Though it feels more special if you go to see it actually with someone special.

*************************************

Athena gets off the car in front of a rather old apartment. It is located so much far from the train station but she doesn’t mind the distance, she rather enjoy it for the physical training.

“Have a good night! Apollo, take care of yourself, please come back again soon!”

She goes actively, it’s bliss for Simon that Athena is fine and happy.

The large-sized car starts going again with the engine sound. It takes some time to drive to the suburb airport even through the highways.

The seat is warm and shaking comfortably, a mysterious female voice song is playing. Simon’s conscience is just like floating and he realizes he has never felt relaxed in these days when he rides in a car. A little alcohol from the bottled Sake helps him to fall half-asleep though he can hear Apollo’s controlled voice.

“Don’t you play your music?”

“You don’t like it, I think”

Gavin replies calmly.

“This is Lamiroir’s new album, have you listened?”

“Oh, I didn’t know it was released”

“I’m not sure if it’s available in Khura’in, you can take this. I’ve already done the digitalization”

“......Thank you”

Simon doesn’t know “Lamiroir” but Apollo seems to know the musician(Simon assumes).

“......And, thank you for giving me a ride”

“Don’t worry, It was me who just wanted to stay with you”

It’s been ages, Gavin says. He and Apollo Justice have an old score to settle in a way though they seem to have built a kind of friendship.

“Well......as long as you can say”

Apollo’s voice is lowered.

“I’d like to know how the phantom case is going”

Simon is given a start like being grabbed his heart.

“I’ve heard that the trial won’t be held in Japan though I don’t know where. In the Hague?”

“......I don’t think ICC deals with it”

Gavin replies that he doesn’t know well quietly.

“You know prosecutor Von Karma takes that case”

“......Yeah”

“Then, I can say nothing more. It is a top secret and actually I don’t know about it”

“So does prosecutor Blackquill?”

“I don’t know but......should we ask?”

Simon’s heart gets pounding.

“Well......no, he doesn’t know or he can’t say about it, I suppose. I’m not even a member of the bereaved family”

Apollo is right, Simon wants to know for anything. Apollo exudes his chagrin. How the unreasonable loss of his bestfriend suffer him? Gavin’s voice sounds gentle but a teasing tone appears.

“By the way, do you think he’s sleeping?”

“Oh is he awake!?”

Apollo looks back in a hurry and Simon pretends to be asleep. He doesn’t care Apollo’s bracelet notices.

Though it might be cheat, he can’t talk about the phantom case to Apollo right now. If he could have believed Athena and the whole judicial system enough in the UR-1 case, the phantom might have been arrested at that time and Clay Terran ——and Bobby Fulbright—— might be alive now. One year ago, the world he had believed collapsed and his self-consciousness could just let the revealed truths and the radical change of the environment go past, but he has started suffering from the regret and the guilty consciousness after some time. He shouldn’t get stuck in there but he doesn’t know what to do exactly. He decided not to hide the truth never again but it should have been a matter of course for prosecutors. He feels himself not to be qualified to be a prosecutor in a way.

Luckily, Apollo and Gavin continue talking without noticing what Simon feels.

“If I had known you went abroad, I should have seen you more, even if a little bit forcefully”

“I think you tried hard enough, Trucy said that she felt lonely as you didn’t come often like before since last summer”

“...... I was just a little bit busy”

It was true, the prosecutor’s office has been a shortage of prosecutors so he and Simon are always very busy. Though it hadn’t changed around Apollo’s leave.

“......I certainly feel it is not as easy as before to go to the office without you”

“There are only girls and Mr. Wright. But I think you are good at treating girls”

“I don’t know, Fraulein detective still hates me”

It reminds Simon of the event a few days ago. She meant not to insult Gavin seriously but he couldn’t keep silence.

“Ema often complains about Nahyuta in Khura’in”

“He likes her so much, doesn’t he? I’ve heard that she is there today, it’s ideal for her to be able to improve her scientific skill as much as she wants”

“I saw her for a short time today in Khura’in, I didn’t tell her that Nahyuta said he planned to have her come to the new year ceremony at the top of Mt. Poni-poni”

Apollo sounds sympathetically.

“Oh, I assume she’s on the top of the mountain right now”

Gavin chuckles, he might be imagining Ema astonished.

“By the way, con priests get married?”

“Yeah, they can......what, Ema and Nahyuta? Hmmm......”

Apollo seems to be sunk in thought but he shakes his head like he shakes it off. He might not want to imagine his brother’s love life.

“By the way, why is Blackquill coming with us? He doesn’t look like a type who wants to say goodbye at the airport”

“He is going to come to my place and stay”

“Really!? You......you are actually close”

“I’m not sure we are close, but, have you heard of the event a while ago?”

“Y-Yeah”

The members seemed to tell him as Simon thought. There is nothing to worry when Apollo knows it but it’s a little embarrassing.

“Well...... I’m sorry”

“What?”

Gavin’s voice is always calm.

“I said...... I hate your music”

“Oh that’s it? No worries, some people don’t like my music, it’s quite natural. I don’t like being lied about it”

“Though...... I might be able to choose a manner of speaking that hurt you less”

You have been always kind to us like this.

Apollo’s voice lowers. He is always kind, to everyone, anytime——

“Why do you say such a thing suddenly, are you scared of Prosecutor Blackquill?”

Gavin laughs teasingly.

“No, it’s not that”

I......just a thought, Apollo says, his voice is quite but clear.

“Hmm, it’s a little boring, you’ve grown up Herr Forehead?”

He says that like nothing and laughs.

Though, he cried certainly when Simon protected him.

“I’m glad that you have a friend now”

“You’ve thought I’m so lonely?”

Of course Gavin has so many friends. He and Simon rarely join the same gatherings because of the pressure of business and Gavin’s estrangement from the WAA as Apollo said, but he talks to Simon casually when they happen to meet in the prosecutor’s office in spite of Simon’s intimidating appearance and they have exchanged phone numbers before Simon knew by Gavin’s high social skill. They must be all usual things to Gavin, even inviting Simon to his house. He can’t take it as a big deal.

Although, why is it painful to him that Gavin is kind to everyone?

The airport is crowded but it gets rather empty way past the midnight. Maybe because there are few flights that depart around the same time as the one to Khura’in.

They have some time before Apollo heads to the departure gate but they can’t find affordable coffee shop or something, they sit on a bench with cans of coffee in their hands.

“How’s your hometown?”

“Well......I think nothing has been changed as for the nature and food......or something. I’m too busy to go around”

“I’m happy to hear your business is going well.

Though I think you’re working so hard”

“Ah......I’m sorry not to keep in touch”

“It’s okay with me but contact the girls more often, they looked so happy today”

“......I see. Then, I got to go”

“Take care”

After seeing Apollo off, Simon and Gavin are just two of them. Simon tries to ask him a kind of question.

“That’s unbelievable to have refrained from drinking, what did you do if Justice-dono had rejected your suggestion?”

Gavin smiles brightly after a few blinking.

“Then, I was planning to go to see the first sunrise with you”

Simon doesn’t feel bad about his selfish decision. Has he foreseen that Simon would think so?

“To be honest, I haven’t seen it properly. I searched some places though”

Gavin leads Simon to the large glass window side.

“We can see it from here”

The clouds is taking on the glow of the sunrise.

“Beautiful”

Gavin admires the sunrise. Several golden hair are sticking out of his beanie.

(To see the first sunrise together!)

(Like having him all to yourself)

Simon sounds Trucy again. He should look at the sunrise, not Gavin, Simon tells himself.

******************************************

いささか古びたマンションの前で心音を降ろす。鉄道の駅からはかなり遠いが、彼女の健脚にかかれば何も問題はないらしいーーむしろ、「足腰の鍛錬になる」とのことだった。

「それでは、今日はありがとうございました！　先輩、どうかお元気で！また帰ってきてくださいね！」

元気よく心音が去る。彼女が健康で幸せであれば、夕神としては無上の喜びだった。

大型のSUVはエンジン音を立て、再び走り出す。最寄りのインターチェンジから高速道路に入り、郊外の国際空港まではそれなりの距離がある。

座面の温もりと程よい振動に意識が浮遊する。カーステレオからは神秘的な雰囲気の女性ボーカルが流れていた。車に乗って寛いだ気分になった覚えが近年まるでないことに改めて気づく。ちびちびと舐めていたコップ酒のアルコールも手伝い、いつにないことに、眠りに落ちかかっていた夕神の耳に、王泥喜の抑えた声が届いた。

「……アンタの曲、かけないんですか」

「だって、好みじゃないだろ？キミの」

牙琉が穏やかに答える。

「ラミロアさんの新しいアルバムだよ、キミもう聞いた？」

「えっそんなの出てるんですか」

「クラインでも買えるのかな？良かったらこのCD持っていっていいよ、ぼくデジタルに落としたし」

「……ありがとうございます」

夕神にはラミロアなる人物ーーどうやら歌手らしいーーが誰なのか分からなかったが、王泥喜には馴染みがあるようだ。

「あと……ありがとうございます、乗せてくれて」

「気にしないで。ぼくが、もう少しキミといたかっただけだよ」

本当に久しぶりだね、と感慨深そうに牙琉が言った。王泥喜と彼とはある意味因縁の相手であるはずだが、一種の友情すら築いていたらしい。

「あの……言える範囲で、いいんですけど」

王泥喜の声のトーンが下がる。

「亡霊の事件って、どうなったんですか」

心臓を掴まれたように、夕神はギクリとする。

「日本じゃ裁判しないって聞いたんですけど、どこでやるのかも分からなくて。ハーグですか？」

「……ICCの取り扱いじゃないんじゃないかな」

ぼくもよく知らないんだよ、と抑えた調子で牙琉が言う。

「狩魔冥検事が担当してるのは知ってるよね」

「……はい」

「そうすると、ぼくが言えるのはここまでかな。極秘で、ぼくも本当に知らないんだよ」

「ユガミ検事もですか」

「……分からないけど……聞いてみるかい？」

心臓が跳ねる。

「いえ……知らないか、言えないかのどっちかでしょ。オレは遺族でもないですし」

実際その通りだった。夕神とて知れるものなら何を差し出してでも知りたかった。王泥喜の口調には悔しさが滲んでいる。親友を理不尽に失った悲しみは如何ばかりのものだろう。牙琉の声にも労りが感じ取れたが、ふと悪戯な揶揄いが混じった。

「ところでキミ、彼が寝てると思ってる？」

「えっ、起きてます⁉︎」

王泥喜が慌てて後ろを振り向く。夕神は眠っているふりをする。こういうことに例の腕輪が反応するのかは知らない。

卑怯だとは思いつつ、王泥喜と亡霊の話をする自信がなかった。あの時、夕神が心音を、司法を信用していれば亡霊は直ちに捕らえられ、葵大地も——番刑事も、運命は変わっていたかもしれない。一年前、自分の信じていたものが崩壊し、引き続いて明らかになった真実や環境の激変に耐えることが精一杯だった夕神の自意識は、ある程度の時間を経て、悔恨や自責の念に蝕まれつつあった。それだけに浸っているわけにはいかないが、そこから脱する術が分からない。二度と真実を隠さないと誓ったものの、本来、そんなことは検事なら当然なのだ。夕神はある意味検事としては落伍者のように感じていた。

幸いと言うべきか、王泥喜と牙琉は夕神に構わず会話を続けていた。

「キミが海外に行っちゃうって分かってたら、もっと無理してでも会っておくんだったよ」

「……十分、無理してたんじゃないんですか？　みぬきちゃんが、夏からあんたがめっきり顔見せなくなったって、寂しがってましたよ」

「……ちょっと忙しかったからね」

それは確かだ。検事局の人員不足で、彼も夕神も多忙を極めていた。だが、それは王泥喜の出発前から変わりはない。

「……確かに、成歩堂弁護士さんのところ、少し行きにくくはなったかな。キミがいないとね」

「成歩堂さんと、あと女の子しかいませんからね。でもアンタ、女の子のあしらい得意でしょ？」

「さあね。刑事クンにはすっかり嫌われてるけどね」

数日前の出来事が夕神の脳裏をよぎる。彼女とて、本気で牙琉を侮辱する気ではなかっただろう。それでも、黙っていられなかった。

「アカネさん、クラインではよくナユタの愚痴言ってますよ」

「気に入られてるんだろう？　彼女も、そっちで科学捜査の腕を磨けて最高じゃないか。今日もあっちだろ？」

「オレと入れ違いでちらっと会いましたけど、ナユタがポニポニ山の上で年越しする行事に参加してもらうって言ってたことは伝えてません」

王泥喜の声には同情が滲んでいた。

「そうか、じゃあちょうど今山の上かな？」

愕然とする茜を想像してか、牙琉が少し笑う。

「ちなみに僧侶って妻帯できるの？」

「できますよ……って、ナユタとアカネさんがですか⁉︎ うーん……」

王泥喜は考え込んでいるらしい。しばらく無言だったが、彼としては義兄の恋愛沙汰をあまり想像したくなかったのか、考えを振り切るように首を振る。

「ところで、なんでユガミ検事もいるんですか？わざわざオレを送りたがる気もしませんけど」

「これから、うちに泊まりに来るんだよ」

「エッ⁉︎ ほ、本当に仲いいんですね」

「仲いいかは分からないけど……もしかして仕事納めのこと聞いたの？」

「え、ええ」

やはりあの事務所の連中が王泥喜にも伝えていたらしい。別に知られて困るわけではないが、少しばかりの気恥ずかしさはあった。

「あの……すみませんでした」

「何がだい？」

牙琉の声は、いつも穏やかだ。

「アンタの曲……嫌いなんて言って」

「何だい、そんなの……仕方ないじゃないか、そりゃ嫌いな人だっているよ。嘘つかれたらその方がイヤだよ」

「でも、アンタを傷つけない言い方だってあったかもしれないのに」

——アンタはいつだって、こんな風に親切だったのに。

王泥喜の声がくぐもる。そう、彼は親切だ。いつだって、誰にだって————

「どうしたの、夕神検事が怖くなったの？」

からかうように牙琉が笑う。

「いえ……別にそういうわけじゃありません」

ただ……ふと思ったんで。王泥喜の声は小さくも明瞭だ。

「へえ。オトナになったおデコくんなんてつまらない��」

何でもないことのように言って、笑う。

それでも、夕神に庇われて、彼は泣いていた————

「……良かったですね、友達ができて」

「キミ、そんなにぼくが孤独だと思ってたの？」

それはもちろん、牙琉にはたくさんの友人がいるのだろう。多忙と、王泥喜の言うとおり、彼の出発以降牙琉が成歩堂の事務所に出入りしなくなったことを合わせてか、集まりに同席することはほとんどなかったが、検事局内で顔を合わせた際には夕神の出で立ちに臆することなく気軽に話しかけて来たし、牙琉の社交スキルにつられていつの間にか連絡先も交換していた。それもこれも、夕神を家に誘ったことだって、おそらく彼からしたら何でもないことなのだろう。大袈裟に取る方がおかしい。

それなのに、彼が誰にでも��しいことが苦しく思えるのは何故なのだろう。

年越しとあって空港は賑わっていたが、真夜中となれば多少落ち着きが出ているようだった。クライン行きと同じ時間帯の出発便が少ないせいもあるだろう。王泥喜が出発ゲートをくぐるまでには少し時間があったが、入れそうな店もなく、飲み物だけを買ってベンチに腰掛ける。

「故郷はどう？」

「そうですね……変わってない、ような気がします。忙しすぎて、あちこち行く暇もないんですけど」

「千客万来なら結構なことじゃないか。といっても、色々立て直しで大変なんだろうけど」

王泥喜はコーヒーを啜る。

「そうですね……連絡、全然できてなくてすみません」

「ぼくはいいけど、お嬢さんたちには連絡してあげなよ、今日は本当に楽しそうだったね」

「……そうですね。それじゃ、そろそろ行きます」

「達者でな」

出発ゲートに向かう王泥喜を見送ると、牙琉と二人になる。夕神はささやかな疑問をぶつけてみることにした。

「おめェさんよォ、禁酒までしてご苦労なこったが、泥の字が断ったらどうする気だったんだ」

数度瞬きをして、牙琉がにっこりと笑う。

「その時は、キミと初日の出でも見に行こうかなって」

勝手に予定を決められていても、何故か悪い気はしなかった。彼は、夕神がそう感じることまで見越していたのだろうか？

「実は、あんまり見たことないんだよね。一応、場所もいくつか調べてはみたんだけどさ」

牙琉はそう言って、空港の大きな窓際に夕神を導く。

「ここから、見えるね」

滑走路の向こうで、山の木々と、空の境目が橙色に染まっていく。ちょうど日が昇るころだった。

「綺麗だね」

牙琉がうっとりと呟く。黒いニット帽の際から、金色の後れ毛がいくらか覗いている。

（初日の出を一緒に見ることです！）

（独り占めって感じですよね）

みぬきの声が蘇る。彼ではなく、日の出を見るべき時だと、夕神は自分に言い聞かせた。

#klavquill #klavquill 1 #klavier gavin #simon blackquill

3 notes · View notes

yangholic · 6 years

Text

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus | Oneshot

christmas au— tooth-ache inducing fluff

wordcount— 4,479

pairing— kim seokjin x single parent!reader

a/n: this oneshot is part of a collaboration with @chimchimsauce for her 12 Days of Christmas advent!

Motherhood was one of the best things to have ever happened to you. Your daughter was the light of your life; your reason to keep going every morning. When you found out you were pregnant with Daeun, you had expected her father to stay. You two were young, dumb and supposedly madly in love. But the moment you broke the news to your ex, he split and was never heard from again. It was hard raising Daeun on your own, especially in a society that stigmatized single parents, but you did it all for her. Daeun truly was the light at the end of your tunnel. She reminded you of yourself— instead of watching YouTube on a sparkly new iPad like all the other girl and boys her age, Daeun found enjoyment in playing with your old toy kitchen playset. While other children wore brand new clothes toting this year’s most popular superhero or princess, Daeun learned the concept of ‘vintage’, which was code for hand-me-downs. Your daughter never cared that money was tight, which meant that she couldn’t always get what she wanted, because her heart was always set on one irreplaceable thing that money could never buy— that missing puzzle piece in her small family of two.

Today, Daeun had decided to wear rainbow leggings, a brown skirt— despite it being the middle of winter— and a fuzzy pink sweater. Her sense of style was honest to god horrible, reminding you of your college buddy’s obsession with mismatched Gucci pieces that were both gaudy, yet somehow tasteful. Smiling to yourself, you scrolled through your phone waiting to pass the time while Daeun scuttled about at her toy kitchen. And just like clockwork, as soon as your digital clock hit noon, there was a knock at your door and your daughter rushed to answer. “Daeun,” you shouted from the sofa, grabbing her attention, “What do you say when there’s a stranger at the door?” She gave you a puzzled look, a tiny smile plastered on her cherubic face. “But it’s just Jin, mama, and he’s your best friend!” A muffled giggle, which belonged to none other than Kim Seokjin, wafted through the door. “Who is it?” Daeun’s tiny, unassertive voice inquired. A low, baritone voice replied curtly, “Min Yoongi.”

Wide-eyed with fear, Daeun glanced at you over her shoulder. She did not know this person named Min Yoongi, who, in reality, was just Jin pretending to be his grumpy coworker. Seokjin’s prank had clearly caught her off guard because she looked like she was about to burst into tears. Seokjin could sense her discomfort from the other side of the wooden barrier and he was quick to rectify his mistake, “Daeun, it’s just me. It was a joke, I’m sorry!” The girl was beside herself with both fear and anxiety— two feelings both so new to her at the ripe young age of six. She was scared that there really was a strange man at the door, and worried because she had almost let him in. “Oh honey,” you cooed, pushing off the sofa and scooping your daughter into your arms. “It’s okay, don’t cry.” With one hand, you skillfully unlocked and opened the door, waving Jin into your abode. “See? It’s just Jin!” Daeun’s tearful frown morphed into a bright smile when she saw the blonde man before her. She wiggled out of your hold, muttering something about ‘not being a baby anymore’, and clung onto Jin’s legs, effectively trapping him in the doorway, slushy winter boots and all.

It was endearing to see your daughter so comfortable with another man. In fact, besides your dad, Kim Seokjin was the closest thing Daeun had to a father figure in her life. She loved him— always telling you she wanted to marry Jin when she got older. And Seokjin, being the kind-hearted man that he was, would play along with her childish daydreams. Unbeknownst to Daeun, both you and Jin had decided to not disclose your romantic relationship to your then four-year-old daughter, due to not wanting her to get too attached. It was for the best, although hiding a big part of yourselves from your daughter was painful. There were moments when you both believed Daeun noticed the stray caresses or longing looks shared between the two of you, but in her childlike wonder, she continued to call Jin your ‘best friend’. The fact that she was so comfortable around Seokjin made your nervous; how would she respond when you decided to disclose your relationship with him? Would she be hurt that it had been kept a secret? Or thrilled at the aspect of her mom having a boyfriend?

“Daeunie, I thought you were mad at me,” Jin said as he removed his winter gear. He jokingly wrapped his scarf around the small girl’s head, covering her like a mummy. “No!” Daeun fumbled with the woolen fabric until she had made a small face hole for herself, “I just thought you were a bad guy and I was scared that- that mama would be mad for letting him in…” Now free of the confining garb, Seokjin kneeled down to level himself with your daughter. “Daeunie, sweetie,” he began, “You are a very smart girl, someone who’s brave and fearless. I just surprised you by playing a mean prank, and I’m sorry.” The blonde smoothed your daughter’s hair down and pressed his cheek to her head affectionately. “Forgive me,” Jin said, his plush lips peeling into a sorry smile. “Pretty please?” Daeun pulled back from Seokjin’s warm embrace, giving the man a skeptical look. “Hmmm,” the master manipulator feigned disinterest, causing Jin to fluster considerably. “I’ll give you three piggyback rides!” Daeun remained stone-faced. “I’ll convince your mother to give you ice cream for dinner!”

“Seokjin,” you warned, eyes pointedly glaring at him.

“Okay, maybe not,” he replied with a sheepish grin. Suddenly, Daeun clapped her hands together as she hopped up and down, “A makeover!” Jin acquiesced quickly, seemingly under the presumption that he would be giving the makeover. The young girl ran off towards your bedroom in search of beauty items, granting you and your boyfriend a few scant minutes alone. “So,” you muse, striding over and wrapping yourself around his broad chest. “When is Santa going to pay us a visit?” Seokjin had agreed to play ‘Santa’ for Daeun this year, due to her growing skepticism about the mythical Saint Nicholas. He hummed contemplatively, probably formulating one of his dirty dad jokes. “Depends, have you been naughty?” Jin’s hand began to wander down your sides, before settling on your hips, his lithe fingers trailing just under the waist of your pants. Soft, supple lips enveloped yours in a passionate kiss—tongue and all— despite the fact that your six-year-old daughter was one room away. “Or nice,” he added somewhat breathlessly, palming the flesh of your bottom. You jerk away, trying your best not to laugh at his lascivious joke.

Jin continued the barrage of crude humor, “I know Santa’s got a big package just for you, Y/N.” You scoff at his poor attempt at comedy, “Oh God Jin, that was so cheesy.” Despite your nonchalant dismissal of his jokes, you both knew his puns were secretly your guilty pleasure. “C’mon, baby. I know Saint Nick’s got three ho’s, but you’re the only one I want to ride on my sleigh.” He broke into his characteristic windshield-wiper laughter, curling over himself as he slapped his knee. You joined him in his merriment, laughing so hard tears begin to form in the junctions of your eyes. Your daughter returned with arms full of makeup and hair products, bewilderment evident on her face. “What are you laughing at?” The two of you regained your composure before Seokjin sat down on a nearby ottoman. “Wanna hear the funny joke I told your mom?” You shudder, knowing his child-friendly jokes are even more cringe-inducing than his naughty ones. Daeun settles herself at Jin’s feet, looking up at him with her big doe eyes. The blonde clears his throat dramatically, “What happens if you eat too many Christmas decorations?”

“Uhhh,” Daeun scratches her head, then relents. “I dunno.”

“You get tinsel-itis!” Cue his maniacal laughing and Daeun’s bubbling giggle. Once their laughter quelled, your daughter remembers her initial purpose for her trip to your bedroom, and she gathers the items she dropped on the floor. “Jinnie, come here,” Daeun waves at the man blushing due to his bestowed nickname. He obliges and sits cross-legged before the six-year-old, ready to begin her makeover. Seokjin’s taken aback when she twists the tube of bright red lipstick and shoddily applies it to his lips. “Wha-”

Daeun interrupts him with a shush. “No talking during your makeover!” You shook your head, pleasantly surprised that your daughter could be so cunning. Jin, on the other hand looks like he’s about to pass out, his ‘beautiful skin’ being tarnished by the grubby hands of Daeun. And yet, he stays and lets her apply makeup haphazardly without a single complaint. Daeun truly did have Kim Seokjin wrapped around her tiny pinky finger.

•·················•·················•

Clad in matching a-line plaid red dresses, you and Daeun looked like the dictionary definition of ‘Family Holiday Card’. She wore white stockings and red mary janes, while you settled on simple black heels and candy cane earrings. Although you both had dressed up, something which Daeun loved to do, you could tell she was feeling perturbed. Usually, she was rambunctious like any other child her age, but today she was on the quieter side— more sullen and reserved than usual. Sitting you daughter on your lap, you begin to broach the subject carefully. “Daeun, baby… What’s bothering you?” She looked away, stubbornly refusing to answer. Unfortunately, her hard-headedness was one traits she inherited from your ex. “Nothing,” she pouted as she looked at her dangling legs. “Daeun, look at me,” you asserted, grabbing her attention immediately. The small girl looked at you, tears brimming in her eyes as she hiccuped her confession. “Mama… They’re so mean.”

“Who? Who is mean, sweetheart?”

“My classmates,” she explained between choked sobs, wet spots staining the crimson of her fancy dress. “They- They said Santa wasn’t real and they made fun of me for being a baby!” Your heart clenched for your daughter’s shattered innocence, but you knew this time would come soon enough— but not on the same day that Daeun was supposed to meet ‘Santa’. Wrapping your arms around her small frame, you cuddled her into your chest in an attempt to soothe her. “Daeun, just because they can’t see Santa doesn’t mean he’s not real,” you insist in an attempt to preserve her innocence. “In fact, I think he may be paying you a visit today to ask what you want for Christmas!” The pure, unfiltered joy that returned to your daughter’s eyes was indescribable; Daeun was mature in a sense— she valued the little things in life, even more so than most people your own age.

“Is he really coming, mama?”

You nodded with a wide grin, “I promise! Mr. Santa heard you were a very good girl this year.”

Daeun responded with a small gasp, tiny hands covering her mouth in shock. “And I can ask for anything?” Again, you nodded in agreement. The past few years, Daeun only asked for one or two things, but this year Seokjin agreed to help with funds for a bigger, better Christmas gift for your daughter. You knew she had been eyeing the latest Hatchimal that most of her friends had, and you’d do everything in your power to give her the one thing that she wanted. “But no pets, okay Daeunie? I already told Santa that our apartment doesn’t allow pets!” She let out a soft ‘aw’ in defeat before jumping off your lap and grabbing a cookie off a nearby plate. Just as she was going for a second, the front door creaked open followed by a ridiculously handsome Santa Claus walking in. Due to forgoing the potbelly, Jin looked like a younger version of Kris Kringle— if he were a model.

“Ho Ho Ho! Merry Christmas, Miss Daeun!” Said girl sprinted towards the man in red, eyes wide with excitement. “Santa! You’re real!” Seokjin, in his most believable rendition of a Santa voice, chuckled, “Of course I am, I came to visit a very special girl today.” Your daughter tugged Santa towards the plate of cookies she had laid out for him, “I made you sugar cookies with lots of sprinkles!” Seokjin grabbed a cookie and bit into it, overacting every single mannerism, although Daeun seemed to not notice. After settling into the nearby armchair, ‘Santa’ patted his lap signaling Daeun to sit. “Miss Daeun, someone told me that you were a really good girl this year! All A’s in every subject?” She nodded with a proud smile, her cheeks flushed from the praise. “Yup! Mama says I’m a smart girl!”

“Well then, I certainly think you earned the right to anything you want this Christmas, Daeun,” ‘Santa’ said as he patted her shoulder. Your daughter sat contemplatively on your boyfriend’s knee, her eyes following something unseen. “I want- Well- It’s a secret, okay Santa?” Jin nodded, the fluffy white beard bouncing as he did so. Daeun leaned into him, her hand cupping around his ear so as to hide her words. You studied Jin’s expression, gauging his reaction. Much to your surprise, his eyes widened into saucers almost as large as the wire-framed glasses he wore. “O-Oh, Daeun, that’s a lot to ask for,” Seokjin stuttered as he gawked at you. He recovered quickly, though, continuing with more positivity, “But I’ll do anything to make sure your wish comes true.” It was as if Jin was speaking to Daeun as himself rather than ‘Santa’, which made your heart melt. The young girl cheered giddily, wrapping her arms around the suited man. You took a photo, capturing the tender moment on film— it was times like these where you felt the overwhelming love you had for both your daughter and Kim Seokjin.

“Well, Miss Daeun,” Jin exclaimed, rubbing his back mockingly. “This old man has to go see other good little boys and girls.” Your daughter gave the jolly man in red one last hug before sprinting off to her room, most likely to play with her dolls before bedtime. Making sure the coast was clear, Seokjin removed his beard, wig and hat, sighing at his release from the torturous devices. Silently, he pulled you into his torso, breath ghosting on the crown of your head.

“Thank you for doing this,” you murmur against his chest, the sinewy pectoral muscles softened by the fake white trim of Santa’s coat. “I know it’s not easy dating someone with a child.” Seokjin inhaled sharply, a hand coming to card through his hair. “About that,” he said, voice cracking slightly. “She- She told me what she wanted for Christmas and I don’t know if I can fulfill her wish…” You peer up at the blonde man before you and study his face; his eyes were searching somewhere far beyond you— as if he were looking a thousand miles away. “She said,” he began, choking on his words once more, “She said she wanted a dad.”

“A dad?” You repeated, simultaneously perplexed and awestruck. Your sweet, darling Daeun had never once mentioned such a sentiment. Any other single parent might feel a numbing inadequacy that their single-parent household was not enough for their child, but you— you felt happy. Perhaps this was your daughter’s way of telling you she had accepted Seokjin and was comfortable enough with him being a permanent presence in her life. After mulling this fact over for a few seconds, you glanced back up at your boyfriend, only to see his rich brown eyes brimming with tears. “It’s time we tell her,” he sighed, a smile peeling at the corner of his lips. “Daeun should know her mom has found someone that can make her Christmas wish come true.” The Santa hat he once held now lay in a pool of discarded items, as you two engaged in a kiss full of passion and promise; a promise of love, a promise of a happy family. As you and Seokjin stood entwined in one another’s embrace, your daughter peeked her head into the living room, excited to show you her styled doll, only to see someone who looks vaguely like Santa Claus kissing you, her mother.

•·················•·················•

“Smile,” the waiter exclaimed as the flash of Jin’s cell phone nearly blinded the three of you. Daeun blinked, scrunching her nose in discomfort. Seokjin sighed dramatically as he looked at the picture, his hands ruffling his hair. “Aigoo, I look so old! Is that a wrinkle on my forehead? Y/N, we need to retake it.” The blonde raised his hand, ready to flag down another server, but you stopped him. “Jin, you look way younger than 27. Plus, the restaurant is swamped tonight, so please just let it go.” Framing his face with a thumb and index finger, Jin cockily wiggled an eyebrow. “Do you promise I’m the most handsome man in the world?” You knew the man was just fishing for compliments, but nevertheless, Seokjin’s cheekiness never ceased to amaze you. “I hope you go bald, Kim Seokjin.”

While Jin sulked over your joke, Daeun busied herself by doodling in a sketchpad. You recognized yourself— partially due to the red and white triangle dress somewhat resembling your own. Next to you was a smaller stick figure, presumably Daeun herself. There was one last stick person: a bald man with crude red bowtie. Gesturing at the unfamiliar figure, you ask your daughter who she supposedly drew. “Who’s this, honey?” Daeun scoffed as if it was obvious who the mystery person was and points her red crayon across the table, “mama, it’s Jinnie of course. Look at his bow!”

Seokjin leaned across the table, handing your daughter a paraffin stick titled ‘unmellow yellow’. “But why didn’t you use this color for my hair?” Daeun tilts her head innocently, eyes wide with confusion. “Mom said you were gonna be bald…” You nearly choke on your water as you try to stifle the laughter that threatened to ruin the ambiance of your dinner. Seokjin looked dumbfounded, and you were sure the man was about to give himself a heart attack. Patting your daughter on the back, you praised her work and gently steered the conversation away from Seokjin’s impending baldness towards a more serious topic.

“Daeunie,” you said, rubbing your hand over the expanse of her back. “Jin and I have something very important to tell you, okay? Please put your crayons down and listen to us, and then you can go back to drawing.” She nodded, giving both of you her undivided attention. “First, honey, I want you to know that if anything we say makes you upset, then let us know and we’ll stop,” you inhaled sharply, making eye contact with Seokjin, who nodded in encouragement, before continuing, “You know it’s always been just us two for the longest time, and I couldn’t ask for anything more. Having you was the greatest thing to ever happen to me, and I’m glad you’re my little girl.” You planted a kiss on Daeun’s cheek, which she happily accepted. “But mama’s been hiding a really big secret from you, and she wants you to know tonight because it’s a special day.”

Your daughter flashed a toothy grin, “Because it’s almost Christmas!”

“You’re right, sweetie. Because it’s Christmas Eve.” Reaching across the table, you laced your fingers with Seokjin’s— displaying a subtle, yet succinct level of intimacy. “I wanted to tell you that Jin and I are a bit more than ‘best friends’. Actually, we like each other very, very much. We’ve liked each other for a very long time, and he makes me happy.” Seokjin continued where you left off, and his hand trembling slightly as he addressed your daughter. “I like your mom a lot, Daeun. She’s a very special woman, and I want to be in her life— and your life— for a long time. I know that initially, you may not feel comfortable with me being around all the time, and that’s okay. I will do whatever it takes for you to feel secure. Your happiness matters to me too, because I’ve always thought of you as a… daughter,” the last few words catch in Jin’s throat. What he said clearly impacted him because his eyes were brimming with unshed tears. He feared rejection— not just by others, but by the most important person in your life. The last thing Kim Seokjin wanted was to encroach on Daeun’s comfortable, stable life with you.

Daeun was reactionless. It worried you slightly, but, in all honesty, no reaction was better than a tantrum. After a heavy bought of silence, it appeared that Daeun had finally processed the bombshell you’d dropped on her. A pair of unsure eyes stared at you apprehensively, “So… does that mean I have a daddy now?” You released Seokjin’s hand to instead cup your daughter’s face, brushing down any fly-away hairs. “He doesn’t have to be if you don’t want him to. I know this is a lot for you to process, and we’re not expecting an answer from you right this minute.”

Suddenly, your daughter’s bottom lip puckered, followed by the sound of a soft whimper. Trying to prevent her from crying, Seokjin reached across the table and offered his hand. “Why don’t we talk about this outside?” Although she initially looked surprised, Daeun reluctantly agreed, before attempting to zip her coat up to no avail. Once again displaying the utmost patience, Jin knelt down to help with the zipper. Once the two found themselves in the crisp, winter air, Daeun immediately scooped up a measly amount of snow and chucked it at Jin. “Hey, that was rude. Just bec-”

“Mama belongs to Santa!” Daeun crossed her arms over her chest, angered, yet somehow still adorable. “I saw her giving him a kiss! So that means she doesn’t like you. Please don’t lie to me…” Combing through his hair, Seokjin tried to conjure a reasonable explanation for the actions your daughter had witnessed. Fat tears rolled down Daeun’s cheeks, threatening to freeze her eyelashes. “I ju-just want a dad to take me to d-daddy daughter dan-dances,” she hiccuped. “I ge-et made fun of cuz I don’t h-have anyone but m-m-mama.” Seokjin’s heart nearly broke at the sight of your daughter so overcome with emotions over wanting a father figure. He didn’t know if it was too direct, but his instincts had him scooping Daeun into his arms. He stroked her hair, effectively soothing her sobs into small sniffles. “Daeun, I’m sorry if we made you think that we lied to you, but your mother and I really do love each other. I was the one who actually dressed up as Santa,” Jin explained. He felt bad for ruining the illusion of jolly Saint. Nick, but assuaging Daeun’s worries were more important. “Santa was supposed to come, but he got sick, and we didn’t want you to be sad, so I borrowed his coat and hat!” That explanation seemed to pacify her, and soon she was back to playing with the freshly fallen snow, crafting another snowball from the fresh powder before lobbing it at his legs. “Can we play like this every Christmas, Jinnie?” Seokjin dipped his hand into an unbroken mound of snow and retaliated, missing Daeun by a long-shot. “Of course we can, Daeun. Nothing would make me happier.”

•·················•·················•

The years went by, and the three of you continued the same Christmas Eve tradition: go out to eat dinner, followed by Jin and Daeun’s infamous snowball fight. Each year that Daeun grew closer to becoming a young adult, she would ditch more of her old values. Unfortunately, that meant Santa was no longer of importance to Daeun. Her affinity for vintage clothes changed to favor of more stylish apparel, and asking for Barbie dolls soon became asking for a cellphone. Because of her transition into early-adulthood, both you and Seokjin worried that Daeun would outgrow the childish tradition in favor of hanging out with her pre-teen friends. But every year, she would have to practically drag Jin outside to play, stating that ‘the cold will keep his face firm’.

This year, Daeun had hinted that she had a special gift for your fiancé, although she never gave you more than a few vague clues. As your small, unconventional family huddled around the Christmas tree, you noticed Daeun nervously fiddling with a red envelope in her lap— as the number of gifts slowly dwindled, the more fidgety she became. Finally, after the last present had been distributed, Daeun stood and cleared her throat. “This last gift is for you, Jin. I know you promised to grant me this wish 8 years ago, but I think it’s only right for me to be the one to let you know that I’m ready.” She handed Seokjin the envelope, and both you and your daughter studied his reaction as he opened it carefully.

“Dear Jin,

Thank you for being there for my mom when no one else was. You treat her so well, and I am grateful for that. When I think of ‘true love’ I think of the relationship you two share, and I want to find the same type of romance when I grow older (also, don’t worry, I won’t date until I’m at least a sophomore in high school). I’d also like to thank you for being there for me. You always supported me in school and in life. I’ll always remember you being patient with people who questioned if you were my biological father whenever you’d take me places, or the times when we dressed up as twins for father-daughter dances. Thank you for taking care of me and showing me that a real father doesn’t need to carry the same DNA, but instead should carry the same overwhelming feeling of love.

Love,

Daeun.”

Jin sniffled, trying his best to suppress the tears that reddened his eyes. You wrapped your arm around Seokjin’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him, knowing how overwhelming it must have felt to receive such a heartfelt letter. He clutched the note in his hands, scared it would disappear at any moment. Watching as your daughter reached behind her back to procure a long, flat parcel wrapped in festive paper, you felt Jin stiffen. “Open it,” Daeun insisted, placing the packet in his hands. Tentatively peeling away the layers of wrapping paper, Seokjin gasped when he saw the contents of the folder.

Adoption papers.

“Merry Christmas, Dad.”

#bts christmas #bts christmas au #kim seokjin christmas #kim seokjin christmas au #bts single parent au #kim seokjin single parent au #bts christmas fic

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