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buckyownsmylife · 4 years

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Burn - Loki Smut

The one where a dark!Loki becomes obsessed with you and won’t stop until you’re his. Based on a request from the incredible @cosvic-brownie.

Warnings: non-con, smut, breeding, kidnapping, obsessive behavior, dirty talk, bdsm, bruising, possessiveness, spanking

Loki’s P.O.V.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” From the moment you two met, you had impressed him. While everyone recoiled at the mere sight of the prince, despised in Asgard, feared here, you treated him like he was any other - no, you treated him like he was proper royalty - like he deserved to be rightfully treated. You never flinched when he found ways to touch you innocently, like when he accepted the cup of tea you offered him in the mornings or when you showed him how to use the remote to turn on that lousy screen that everyone was so obsessed with.

He’d never before shown any interest in learning how to use such devices, but as soon as you appeared in his life, he took whatever means possible to be able to smell your sweet perfume that enticed him so very dearly.

Meanwhile, you never even noticed. Loki could easily see that all of his attention, his little ways of showing you his interest went completely unseen. It wasn’t that you didn’t care - in fact, the problem was the exact opposite: you cared too much. You had a heart bigger than yourself, and you showed your love for everyone equally, all the time.

Loki didn’t like that. He wanted you all to himself, or at least that you prioritized him just as he had done when he put you in the frontline of all of his thoughts. Sometimes, he could see why it was wrong of him to want you. But even in those moments, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Wasn’t he already a monster? You were the only possibility of him ever joining the light. He needed you.

So he patiently watched over your every move, ever the gentleman, always there to help and smile when you needed someone. He couldn’t very well let anyone else be the one who fulfilled your needs. While watching, he created and perfected his plan, while feeding his belief that you were the right person for him. In his mind, you were already his. Certainly, the way your eyes lit up when he joined you in the kitchen every morning or how you constantly asked for his opinions during conversations were your way of communicating without raising your team’s suspicions, right? They would never understand just how badly you wanted to be with him, alone with him, only with him. But he did. And he would do everything in his power to make you happy.

One day, an opportunity appeared. You had announced to everyone that you were going to use up some vacation time to finally get to travel a bit, and Loki could barely believe his own ears. This was really it. Somehow, you had understood his schemes and planned accordingly. Now, you’d finally be able to run away together.

Loki didn’t even sleep that night, just patiently waited in the darkest corner of your room until your bags were packed and you had fallen asleep. Grinning from ear to ear, he ran a single finger over the skin that had become exposed as your top scrunched up from your restless movements, and in a blast of dark green mist, you were both gone.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

At first, you couldn’t understand what was wrong. In fact, it didn’t really seem like anything was wrong. You felt… warm. Comfortable, even. Slowly, your senses started to awaken as your body did, and it was only when you tried to stretch like you usually did every morning that you realized that, in fact, something really was wrong.

“Loki?” You whispered, finding his green eyes looking at you expectantly as he grinned like the cat who got the mouse. “Why are you in my bed?” Just then, his fingers tightened around my waist, making me realize something much more important. “Loki…” I started, “Why am I naked?”

Instead of an answer, what I got was a kiss. My eyes widened at the feeling of his lips on mine. I had dreamed of this moment countless times, but I’d never imagined it to happen like this. It felt off, especially since I couldn’t understand what was going on. “You’re not kissing me back,” he took notice after some time of trying to pry my lips open with his.

“And you didn’t answer me,” I countered, and that same damn smirk appeared on his face again.

“Well, you’re in my bed, darling. And that means that you have to follow my rules. In my bed, no clothes are allowed.” That statement led me to realize two more things. First, there was a particular hardness well pressed against my lower belly, and there was absolutely no sort of barrier between our skins. He was naked too. Second, the light of the sun shining through the thin curtains felt different over us. Colder, but also bluer.

“Loki, when you say this is your bedroom… We’re not in the tower, are we?” By now, I think he had finally started to see that I was on the verge of a panic attack. Immediately, he let go of my waist, separating himself from me just enough so he could hold my face.

“Of course not, my dove. We’re on Asgard. Why are you acting like this? Isn’t this what you wanted?” My head was throbbing by then, as was another part of me that I was trying very hard to ignore. Now wasn’t the time to feel horny, no matter how attracted to Loki I’d been before… before he kidnapped me. Because this was what had happened. And it was wrong.

Very carefully, I pushed him away from me so I could sit up, mindful of the fact that I shouldn’t startle him or even make it clear that I was scared of him in any way. It wouldn’t serve my purpose and it might as well only offend or irritate him.

Besides, I wasn’t even sure I was scared of him, exactly. Was I confused? 100%. But if there was one thing that was clear here was that there was some sort of mishap going on. I was more afraid of the situation as a whole than of Loki himself. He just… he seemed so vulnerable. As was I, naked as the day I was born, in his bed in Asgard.

The reality of the situation suddenly dwelled upon me. I was trying to find reasons for what was going on because it was hard to suddenly change how I felt about the man I liked, but the truth was, I hardly knew him at all. And everyone did try to warn me against him.

Perhaps they were right. At least, things weren’t looking so great to me right now, and Loki was the only one to blame. Thankfully, he allowed me to sit up on the bed, but as soon as I was able to locate something to cover me with, he ripped it from my arms, making me jump.

“What is going on here, dove? I thought this was what you wanted. You told everyone you were going away, so we could finally be here, together.” A sudden surge of panic took over me. He really was bonkers. I tried my hardest not to show it in my face, but the second a frown took over his beautiful features, I knew I was screwed. “Why did your heart speed up? You’re starting to make me very confused, my dear…”

I opened my mouth a few times, racking my brain, trying to figure out a way to make it out of here. But I wasn’t fast enough. Loki seemed to have had enough of my behavior, and he pulled on my wrist so I’d lay down on the bed again, this time forcing my legs open so he could kneel between them, hovering over me.

“Despite what kind of egocentric personality people tend to associate with me, I don’t like to talk with myself, my sweet…” He held my jaw, making me look him in the eye. “So tell me, just what is going on?” I bit my tongue so nothing would come out. There was nothing I could honestly say that would make him happy. It was better to remain silent.

Of course, my silence already told him everything he needed to know. When Loki clicked his tongue, the sound resonated across the room, making me flinch despite my best wishes. “I see…” Was all he spoke, his eyes leaving mine to wander down, down, until they found that place I had unwillingly exposed to him and was trying very hard to ignore in the moment.

I knew what he would find when he turned his attention there. That’s why when he humorlessly chuckled, it didn’t surprise me at all, as it didn’t surprise me when two of his fingers lightly ran over my pussy lips, collecting some of the wetness that had gathered there.

“So I must be imagining this too, right?” I shivered when he moaned at my taste, his pink lips perfectly wrapped around the digits that had touched me.

Loki’s P.O.V.

“Just like I imagined the stolen glances, the little smiles… The way you talked to me. It was all a figment of my imagination, wasn’t it, darling?” She bit his lip at my words, guiltily avoiding my eyes as I raised my eyebrows. “Thought so. Well, if this is all in my head, I guess it doesn’t do any harm to take advantage of it, don’t you think?”

When her eyes widened as she processed my words, I waved my hand so hers would be restrained over her head in green silk just before she tried to sit up again. The image was everything I had dreamed of and more, and I couldn’t help but to purr, slowly running my hands over her delicious thighs.

“Relax, my dove… If you’re lucky, you might wake up to find out you’re still in the tower and this was nothing but a nightmare. But right now, you’re stuck in my dream, and I’m making the most out of it.” I delved into her waiting heat with unrestrained hunger. Just that teasing taste I had tried was nowhere near enough, I wanted to soak in her essence, bathe in it. When I was done with her, my sheets should be ruined by her wetness.

However, the more I licked on her little clit, slurping on her juices, the more I realized that I would never be done with her. How could I? Not when she tasted better than any royal feast I’d ever partaken in. Not when the little moans she tried so hard to suppress were igniting my flame, making me burn even brighter for her.

I wanted her forever. And not even herself will stand in my way of achieving that.

“Your taste is magnificent, my darling,” I moaned against her lower lips, the vibrations provoking a response strangled moan from her. Smirking, I sucked on her clit a little bit more before teasing her. “I’m sorry you’re not enjoying this, my sweet. If only you were feeling at least some of the pleasure I am from eating this delicious pussy.”

Just my words were enough to make her moan again. She wanted this, that much I knew to be true. It might not be in the way she expected it to happen, but now that it was, there wasn’t anything much she could do except to take what I was offering her.

The more I licked at her pussy, the more she offered me, granting me pride like nothing else. When her thighs started to quiver around me, I knew it was only a matter of seconds until she flooded my lips with more of her essence.

“Come on then, dove. No point in pretending anymore. Come for me, fill my mouth with your cream.” With a hoarse scream that tore its way from her throat, she did just so, and I happily drank all that she had to offer before deciding to let her taste herself at least a little bit. “Here, darling. See why you make me crazy?” She instinctively opened her lips a little bit when my fingers approached, dripping with her essence, but I forced them to completely accept my intrusion, pushing my digits as far as they could go inside her wet mouth, hearing her gag around them. “I can’t wait to hear that again, but it’ll sound so much better when you’re choking around my cock, my sweet.”

She opened her eyes at that, obviously intending on saying something back, but I only pushed them further down her throat before I brought my other hand in between her legs.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I wanted to fight back, I wanted to shout and thrash around, but more than anything, I wanted more of what he had to offer. And I hated myself for it. God, what was wrong with me? Loki was abusing me, taking advantage of me and I had never been wetter in my life. Still, I knew I had to keep trying to break free. I needed to show him he couldn’t do this to me.

The second one of his long fingers penetrated me, my body fell slack against the bed. I couldn’t keep fighting it, I needed him and I needed him right then. “Please, please…” I started to moan, and that picked up his interest because he separated himself from my clit just enough to raise an eyebrow at me.

“Please? Already begging, my dove? Can you imagine how you’ll be by the time I’m done with you?” The second he finished his question, he started to furiously fuck me with that single finger, creating just enough friction to get me on the edge of orgasm again, but not enough to make me cum.

“Loki…” I whispered, desperate for more of something, anything, really. By then, my body was completely covered by a light sheen of sweat. I should be feeling dirty, especially since I was relenting to sexual activities I didn’t really accept to partake in, but all I felt was arousal, desire, need.

He hummed around me, still relentlessly sucking on my clit. “I think it’s time you call me something else, darling.” Trembling, I struggled to wrap my mind around what he was saying. All the while, his finger kept moving, in and out, in and out, making me frustrated beyond belief.

“W-what do you want me t-to call you?” He pretended to think for a moment, his lips still trapping my nub between them.

“Sir,” was his answer, and just then he forced another finger inside of me, prompting a second orgasm that made me scream. “Thank me for your pleasure, my sweet, c’mon. Thank your master.”

“T-thank you, sir,” I obediently acknowledged as soon as I was able to speak again. He blinded me with the most predatory smile I’d ever seen, crawling his way up my body until he could pull me by the back of my neck, forcing me to accept his tongue this time.

“See, my sweet? I can be so nice to you if you continue being a good girl for me. Why can’t you accept this? My claim on your body?” As much as I wanted to provide some sort of answer, any answer, it was hard to even think straight as he pressed the head of his cock against my overstimulated clit.

“N-no, no,” I tried to warn him away, feeling too sensitive to have him touch me another time, but that only served to change the tide of his mood against me yet again.

“What is this, my dove? Already misbehaving again?” Tsking, he held my hips forcefully, surely leaving bruises behind. “I thought you were smarter than this, but I guess you’ll still need some time to understand, huh? This cunt, my beloved…” He cupped my sensitive pussy while speaking. “... belongs to me.”

And with that, he pushed his cock completely inside of me, making me writhe for air as I struggled to accept the invasion. He was so long, I could feel him in my stomach, and as he didn’t allow me any time to adjust to his length.

I choked once again, in my desperate need to find air, and while I felt like I was drowning, I could hear Loki’s melodic laugh in my ears. “Do you feel me, my sweet? Possessing you from the inside? Look how deep I am inside of you. You’ll never want to be empty again. You’ll beg for my cock over and over and over again. And I’ll give it to you, over and over and over still.”

Opening my eyes to watch the thrusts he coordinated with each of his words, I found his green hues fixated on my lower abdomen. I checked to see what I already knew - each of his thrusts in created a bulge on the spot, showing just how true his sentences were. My pussy lips gripped him each time he pulled out to leave only the tip in, desperate to have him inside of me again.

My own transfixed observation was cut short by an uncharacteristically rough grunt from the man so determined to own me. My head flew up just as his fingers collected some of the excessive moisture seeping from inside me, already dampening the bed as he fucked me, and used them to ruthlessly play with my clit.

“Now, dove, it’s time for you to cum again. I can’t control myself much longer, I need to cum inside this pretty little pussy soon.” The words sparked something inside of me, suddenly remembering yet another reason why I shouldn’t be doing this, not like this.

“L-Loki,” I tried to warn, my legs cramping as I struggled yet again to get him off of me, but to no use. The only acknowledgment I received was a slap to my pussy, a punishment that my mind immediately processed while my body convulsed as I cum around him. “Sir!” I screamed, just as he doubled his effort to fuck me silly, taking advantage of the fact that I could no longer take control of my body.

His brows were dipped in concentration when I came to my senses, a single drop of sweat even running from his hairline to his beautiful nose. “Sir…” I tried again, my voice raspy beyond the point of recognition. “Please, I-I don’t have any… If you cum inside of me, I-I’ll…” The knowing smirk that appeared on Loki’s lips only served to worry me further.

“Shhh…” He tried to calm me down, his eyes still connected to where we were both joined, to where he had forced me to accept him. Each brutal snap of his hips against mine made me instinctively flinch away from him, but he only impaled me back on his cock with much more roughness.

Loki’s P.O.V.

I was hypnotized by the image of her petal lips engulfing my hardness, sucking me in, begging me to empty myself inside of her. And I would, oh how I would. I’d make sure that if she were to ever leave my bed again, it would be with a part of me forever in her. She’d never again remember how it felt to live without bearing my child.

“I know, my dove…” I assured her, raising a hand to cover her lips when it became clear that she was going to start screaming again. “Don’t worry, I can smell how fertile you are. There is no way I won’t get you pregnant tonight. And if after that you still want to leave… Then I might just have to lock you up in this room, but one thing I’ll make sure of is that you’ll keep on giving me kids, one after the other.”

All we could hear around the room were the filthy wet sounds of my cock driving into her dripping pussy, and the grunts I couldn’t hold in anymore. Yes, I was close to bursting and perhaps there truly was something evil in me, because it was the way she struggled against me and the look of panic in her beautiful face that made me finally tip over the edge I’d been dying to ride ever since we met.

White light took over my sight as I slowed my movements, making sure she received every single drop of cum my cock was desperate to give her. When I opened my eyes again, it was to notice that she had at last given up on her pointless fight, and there were tears soaking the hand I was still covering her mouth with.

“Now, now, darling…” I cooed, slowly taking off my palm and using it to clean her face of the wet tracks on her cheeks. “There’s no reason to be sad. This is such a joyous occasion, the conception of our first child.” My words brought a new wave of tears to her eyes, prompting me to scoop her up and cradle her in my chest. “And you know what?” I whispered in her ear, keeping her tightly pressed up against me when she struggled to push me away. “I promise I’ll give you this same amount of pleasure every night. For the rest of our lives.”

You can read the follow-up I wrote for this fic here!

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki imagine #loki fanfiction #loki insert #loki insert fanfiction #loki x you #loki writing #my fics #smut #loki

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snowdice · 4 years

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Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 57]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

I’m going to do this and chill for a bit. Then maybe force myself to do my grading later.

Chapter 27

After an, honestly quite aggravating, breakfast full of Virgil’s cognitive distortions about the likelihood of being poisoned, Logan was relieved to finally be able to leave the dining area. In consideration to those serving breakfast, Patton did not lead them through the door in the back of the dining room that went directly to the kitchen, and instead took them out of the room and down the hall to a different entrance. This one had a guard stationed across from it as, despite what Virgil may believe, the castle workers did consider the possibility that someone would want to sneak into the kitchen for nefarious purposes.

Said guard, of course, saw nothing wrong with the prince and the head chef’s son entering the side door even with the bonus stranger. In fact, he may even have known Virgil could be coming through this door if Ms. Heart had mentioned him.

Though Virgil hadn’t managed to catch it, Logan knew enough about Patton’s mother that he’d surmised that she had insisted Patton bring the boy to meet her. It was bound to happen at some point anyway, Logan knew, and he wasn’t particularly worried. After all, this was Patton’s mother. Virgil himself didn’t even seem particularly concerned.

Logan had seen him panic and, while he tugged a bit at the sweater he was wearing, the motion was not particularly fervent, so he was likely just slightly nervous.

Of course, that may be because he did not know Patton’s mother specifically wanted to meet him and just assumed that they were starting the necessary process of introducing him to castle residents with a low risk person.

When they entered the hallway, Logan could already hear the usual noises of the kitchen: the clattering of plates, the bubble of conversation, and the sound of Ms. Heart’s voice calling out instructions.

He did see Virgil hesitate, but Logan couldn’t sus out why and Patton was already ahead of them and opening the door into the kitchen. It was fairly calm for the kitchen considering it was meal hours. Logan imagined that Patton had chosen the time between when the day guards ate breakfast before their shifts and the night guards after their shifts on purpose. There was still a bit of chaos as dishwashers attempted to catch up during the lull and a few orders were still being made, but overall the mood seemed, to Logan at least, to be light as Ms. Heart ordered her kitchen around.

Yet, Virgil clearly did not see the situation the same way that Logan did. He froze when the kitchen door swung open and some of the workers turned to look at them. He took a step back, bumped into Logan, startled violently, realized it was Logan, and then side stepped to hide behind him. Logan looked back at him in confusion, but Virgil said nothing, proceeding to mutely peer over Logan’s shoulder.

Patton had moved over to greet his mother as she wiped her hands off on a rag. She glanced over at Virgil and Logan and Logan saw Virgil shrink back a bit.

Logan could see Ms. Heart’s eyes soften as she tracked his movement. She turned to the woman next to her and said something before moving to remove her apron and hang it up in its designated area. Virgil’s hands clenched in the fabric of Logan’s shirt when she turned back to him.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Logan told him, but Virgil didn’t seem to believe him. Luckily, Patton had turned back and seemed to realize something was amiss.

He stepped back over to them. “Hey, honey,” he said. A plate clattered in the kitchen and Virgil just about ripped Logan’s shirt.

Patton frowned sympathetically. “Too loud?”

“Virgil,” Logan said. “You are digging your fingernails into my skin.” Patton shot Logan a glare. “What?”

“How about,” Patton’s mom suggested. Virgil’s fingernails dug more into Logan’s skin. “We go to my office.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Mama,” Patton said. “Come here, Virgil.” He reached over to touch one of Virgil’s hands and had to pull a bit to get him to release Logan. “It’s back that way, away from the kitchen,” he said when he managed to twine their fingers. He stepped around Logan, probably so there was still a buffer between Virgil and the kitchen and tugged him in the correct direction.

Ms. Heart shot a glance at Logan and Logan felt irrationally like she was trying to read his thoughts. Logan smoothed his features out and turned to follow Patton and Virgil towards her office.

As head chef, Ms. Heart had a small office where she could plan menus without the hustle and bustle of the kitchen and have meeting with people who needed to discuss dietary needs and restrictions. It was very well organized, but still looked fairly messy because of the numbers of decorations she had in it. She had a tendency to keep everything that Patton made her, thus she had his childhood drawings on the wall and little projects stacked on her desk and on the shelves. A lumpy cat statue acted as a paperweight on a stack of papers on her desk and there was a vase of fake flowers (as it could not actually hold water) sat near the window.

By the time Logan entered the room, Patton was trying to coax Virgil into sitting down on one of the two mismatched chairs, but Virgil was having none of it. He had turned to face the door and was yanking at his sweater in nervousness.

Logan noticed that Ms. Heart did not come far into the room, instead pausing near the door. She did, however close the door to give them privacy, and that seemed to distress Virgil more.

She seemed to contemplate him for a moment. “Hello,” she said, her voice softer than Logan was used to hearing. “You must be Virgil.”

It seemed as though he were willing himself to magically shrink, but he still replied. “Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Patton’s mom.”

“I know, ma’am.”

“There’s no need to be formal, Virgil.”

He hesitated. “Okay,” he said somehow quieter.

Her eyebrows drew together in concern, and it seemed that she decided to result to her default way of making people more comfortable. “Would you kids like some candy?”

Logan saw Patton’s hand squeeze Virgil’s lightly. “That would be great, Mama.”

She nodded and walked forward towards her desk. Virgil turned so his back was never to her. If she noticed, she didn’t react. She just grabbed a small tin off one of her shelves and took the top off. “How about a peppermint candy?” she asked.

She offered the tin out to them. Virgil stared at it like it was a venomous snake. Logan decided to act, stepping forward and taking three of the pieces of peppermint candy from the dish. He stepped over to Virgil and Patton and held out his hand, offering Virgil first choice out of all three.

He hesitated before glancing between Patton and his mother. He must have decided that Patton’s mom wouldn’t risk poisoning Patton and took one of the pieces. Patton took another one of them and popped it into his mouth. Logan ate the last piece.

“Thanks,” Virgil said to Ms. Heart before placing his piece in his mouth.

Logan watched Virgil’s eyes light up a bit when the flavor registered. His posture didn’t completely relax, but he seemed at least a bit less like he was contemplating jumping through the window. His trust was almost worryingly easy to buy sometimes. All it took was a not poisoned peppermint.

Ms. Heart seemed pleased by his reaction. “I’m actually going to be making some new ones soon and I’m trying to get rid of these. Would you like to take another one for later?” she asked, holding out the tin.

He looked at it warily again, but he still stepped closer slowly and took another piece. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Ms. Heart said, eyes looking over him intensely. “You look like you could do to with a few more sweets every so often.”

Virgil tilted his head in that way he did when he was particularly perplexed.

Patton giggled a bit. “She means your skinny.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Logan already gave me a malnutrition potion for that.”

“Did he now?” she asked, her eyes flickering to Logan. Logan winced. He was definitely in trouble for not bringing him directly to her. He was sure he’d hear all about it as soon as she caught him without Virgil in the room.

She turned back to Virgil with a smile, and Logan imagined Virgil had no idea how dead Logan was. “Well, that’s a very good start, but if there was need for a nutrition potion, we should be careful to make sure you get enough calories and nutrients every day going forward.” She sat down at her desk. “Why don’t you and I talk for a bit about making sure you get some good food.”

He still looked cautious but was predictably enticed by the promise of food. He did not sit still, but he did put his hands on the back of one of the chairs and slightly lean on it. “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed.

“Okay,” she said. “Well, I’m going to have a few more specific questions, but let’s just start with what are your favorite foods?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Virgil replied immediately.

“He really likes chicken alfredo,” Patton contributed.

Virgil perked up at the name of the food. “I did like that,” he agreed.

“Alright,” Ms. Heart replied. That’s a start.

Chapter 28

Thomas did not have to be told that something had gotten Helen Heart in a tizzy. He could tell just by the amount of food she had sent up on his dinner tray. She always made and pushed more food when she was stressed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he found both a hearty serving of roast beef and a mini chicken pot pie on his plate along with three vegetable side dishes and a side of macaroni and cheese.

He could also guess what had happened to illicit such a response. Thomas had caught up to Jeffers Deknis in his garden and they’d spoken at length about Logan and Patton’s new friend.

There was no way that after said discussion, Jeff had not mentioned Virgil (and more importantly his friendship with Patton) to Helen during their daily gossip sessions. There was also no way that Helen had heard the words “child” and “too small” in a sentence and hadn’t flipped. From there the inevitable sequence of events was clear: Patton went home, Helen talked his ear off until he agreed to bring Virgil to meet her, Helen met him and immediately committed herself to making sure he ate three square meals a day as well as multiple snacks.

Thomas had sussed all of that out before the kitchen worker bringing him his dinner had mentioned what had happened that day.

That in mind, he decided to wait until after dinner should have been cleaned up before walking his own dinner leftovers down to the kitchens.

Thomas was unsurprised to see Jeff already in the kitchen. He was sat at a small table off to the side where kitchen workers usually took their breaks. The only person other than Jeff and Helen left in the kitchen was a dishwasher who was finishing up. Helen usually spent a couple of hours after dinner in her kitchen or her office organizing for the next day and in case anyone needed food on an off hour, and then there was a night cook who would take over so she could go back to her set of rooms.

Helen took the tray of leftovers from Thomas herself and shooed the dishwasher out of the way. “I’ll handle the rest myself,” she told the girl. “You can leave.”

She nodded and started to take her apron off. Helen dumped the tray on the counter without care and turned back around to usher Thomas into one of the kitchen chairs. Thomas went willingly and she turned to fill the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove.

“It take it she met Virgil,” Thomas said to Jeff.

“She’s adopted Virgil,” Jeff replied, taking a bite out of a cookie.

“And what of it?” she asked. “Someone obviously needs to feed the boy. Speaking of, you’re grounding your son by the way.”

Thomas took one of the cookies for himself. “Why am I grounding Logan?” he asked.

“He was worried enough about his health to make him a nutrition potion, but still did not bring him to me,” she harrumphed.

“I see,” Thomas replied.

“In Logan’s defense,” Jeff interrupted. “the boy seems rather timid. He may have worried about you scaring him off.”

Helen slapped him with a dishtowel.

“Actually,” Jeff continued. “From what I’ve gathered he didn’t have contact with anyone since the time I saw him a couple of weeks ago until now.”

“Any adults,” Thomas corrected with a frown. “I’m pretty sure he, Patton, and Logan must have been around each other considering how close they already seem to be.” He paused, “Logan implied he wasn’t particularly… comfortable around adults.”

“I did get that impression, yes,” Helen said, pouring the hot water from the kettle into a tea pot and carrying it and some cups over to the table.

“He was incredibly jumpy,” Jeff confirmed. “I imagine he does not have good experiences with many people, but he seems to have grown attached to Logan and Patton. He defers to them in most things and seemed a bit protective.

“Where did he come from?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jeff said. “I found him hiding in the garden shed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did he sneak in?” Thomas asked.

“That’s what I would have thought,” Jeff replied, “but when I asked, he said he wasn’t trying to steal anything and that he was supposed to be in the castle. So, I’d assumed that meant he was the child of someone living in the caste.”

“But neither of us could find anyone who knew him,” Helen said. “Of course, we didn’t even know his name until now.” She seemed to decide the tea leaves had sat long enough because she started to pour them each a cup of tea.

Thomas took a sip. “Earl Grey,” he commented. “I guess I’m not sleeping much tonight.” It was her ‘planning tea.’

“We need a plan,” she said, “but we’re going to have to be gentle.”

“At least with Virgil,” Jeff said.

Thomas laughed lightly, “and what do you plan to do with the other two?”

“I have my ways.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “You say that,” she said, “but you’re too soft. The two of them learned to run circles around you and your powers years ago.”

“We should talk to them though,” Thomas said. “Separately from Virgil.”

“We should,” Helen agreed. “I already spoke to Patton a bit yesterday, but I will again. We should see if we can ask around and find out why he’s in the castle. We don’t even know how long he’s lived here. Or who brought him here.” The look on her face told Thomas she wanted to have a talk with his guardians whoever and wherever they were.

Helen took a drink of tea, it seemed to calm herself. “We need to make sure whatever has been happening to him is not happening in these walls,” she said.

Thomas had honestly… not thought about that. He’d assumed whatever made Virgil so skittish was in the past, but it was possible that it was ongoing. The thought made him sick.

“Perhaps you should try to talk to him, Thomas,” Helen suggested.

Thomas winced. “I am not sure that is a good idea...”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have the best track record… I don’t think me being around him would be a good idea.”

“Oh, please, Thomas,” Helen said disbelievingly.

“No, you don’t understand,” Thomas said. “He seems disproportionately afraid of me. I think it’s a mix of me being king and how we met.”

“How did you meet?” Helen asked.

“I… gave him a bit of a fright,” Thomas admitted. “Logan and Patton weren’t in the room and I didn’t know who he was. He… ended up under the bed. Then… the second time I saw him he accidently ran into me. He freaked out again.” The memory still made Thomas feel gross. It also made him think there was a lot more to his backstory than the three of them understood.

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“Perhaps Jeff can try to talk to him then,” Helen said. “It sounds like he was calmest around you. I’ll push Patton towards taking him to the garden more often. I bet fresh air would do him some good anyway.”

Jeff nodded. “I will try to talk to him a bit more.”

“Great,” Helen said, but Thomas already knew the conversation wasn’t over. “Now we need to talk about strategic events to throw over the next few months that Patton and Logan to invite Virgil to. We’ll start slow, but we need to make sure he feels welcome in the castle.”

Thomas met Jeff’s eyes. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since she’d made the menu for him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil mark the little box on the card. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day.

“Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”

“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.

“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

“You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught myself to read it to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

“That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn��t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.” Virgil could tell just by listening for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

“I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.

Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“Yes,” Logan agreed. He reached forward to touch it and opened it carefully. The print was small and didn’t look like the letters Logan had taught him so far. There was a small map on the side that Virgil could at least guess at the meaning of.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.

“Now,” Logan continued. “I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down bellow with his head in the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.

He pulled the book in front of him and looked at the cover. It was covered in drawings of different colored flowers. One simple white flower was in the center and there were three words on the cover. He squinted at it and silently tried to sound it out based on what Logan had taught him so far. He could guess that the larger word was ‘flowers’ based on context. So, he was pretty sure it read How Flowers Grow.

He flipped open the book. Logan was right, there were many hand drawn beautiful pictures. He could pretty much understand what was happening just from them even if he couldn’t read all of the words.

It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walk directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.

“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”

Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”

Patton giggled.

Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”

“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.

Logan just rolled his eyes.

Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

“Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

“Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

“Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

“Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

“I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

“Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

“Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

“How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

“Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

“I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

“You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

“He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

“I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

“No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

“How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

“Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

#proofread stories #not writing #not pieces fic

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solactier · 4 years

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This one’s for you @heytherestilinski

This is going to be quite the mixture of emotions, so I apologise in advance if my expression of said feelings is all over the place, but I simply must talk about the golden fanfiction that is Heat Waves and how it has swayed my soul with sounds of sweet bells.

To start, I should say, I’ve been in love with writing and reading for as long as I can remember. The ability to weave an entire world with mere threads of words is fascinating to me, always has been. I’ve taken in quite the number of books and fanfictions throughout my period of living, and considering so, I can confidently say:

Dakota’s writing is a force to be reckoned with.

But the force I speak of is the kind that is emitted from ember sunrises that one witnesses during moments between summer and autumn. They hold a certain glow that keeps a person sat there, for incessant hours, in pursuit of a special warmth that will leave them settled and content.

I have never been captured and pulled in by a descriptive style more than I was with Dakota’s, and I say this having read a multitude of her work. This author is admirable in a multitude of ways, and I’m genuinely excited for anything and everything they will produce in the upcoming future.

I could ramble for a good bout of time about many of Dakota’s works, but that would result in a document longer than Dream’s 19 page rebuttal, so let’s focus on one (for now).

Heat Waves

Two words that hold a grand amount of weight and cause hearts to shift.

I have a lot to say about this prosperous and glorious story, but at the same time I don’t because upon finishing a chapter, be it one of the first or the last, I am rendered speechless. My words of explanation and admiration morph into vibrations of zeal flowing through my veins as I absorb beautiful descriptions and powerful dialogue.

Heat Waves chapters aren’t ones I find myself totally rereading often, and here’s why:

When reaching the end of whatever chapter and scrolling through the final notes, I am left satisfied, completely. Dakota’s style is captivating in a way that allows me to read their sentences and phrases carefully and attentively, making sure the picture painted in my mind is as accurate as possible. I will encounter a certain, strong line and read it again, and again, and again before continuing on as to ensure I consume the sentiment being served, and mind you, it was served.

I came here at first expecting the usual or normal plate-size of feelings, but oh was I wrong, I was quenched, fully fed, if you will lol.

The reason for that is this narrative is not your typical fanfic troupe.

Heat Waves is a story about messy, unpredictable love, and that’s what makes it as enthralling as it is. It is poetic as it is real.

It’s thrilling lust turned to excruciating yet oh so warm love.

Dream misses and wants to hold onto George’s presence regardless of the pain it causes him, of the internal conflicts that have suddenly surfaced, of the changes he must face and make, of the haunting dreams.

Even if George’s actuality distresses and brings Dream affectionate confusion, he will still reach for him. He will hurt and hurt and hurt in order to grasp the heat he’s grown a little too addicted to because he prefers when George is around, rather than when he isn’t.

Dream’s mind spirals and his feelings scatter over interactions due to him knowing George very well, yet not knowing him at all. The two could flirt and exchange the most ridiculous of dialogue and nothing would change, and that’s where a certain dilemma is contrived: How much of this is real? What is considered serious among the numerous jokes him and George make? How far is he allowed to go? All of these questions tug at the curves of Dream’s brain and heart, and he is unsure about much, but despite that, he finds himself thinking all about George, during late nights, in the middle of June.

Dream undergoes a series of emotional disputes over whatever the fuck is happening between himself and George, and that, my friends, is the heartache that comes from truly having feelings for someone and wanting their every speckle. Of course, such strong desires can sometimes be unhealthy. Dream, at one point, is a bad friend to Sapnap (whom we all must agree to stan because damn sir your back must be hurting from carrying your two idiot friends’ passionate but disordered baggage. a king) by ignoring his calls and messages due to being caught up, tied, and trapped in the strings of yearning. This one guy is doing so much damage to Dream, but he’s fallen too far down the pit of affection to care, in fact, he luxuriates in it.

(I also honestly do not blame Dream for playing the song on loop, because same, really does make you feel things)

Dream loves George. He loves George so much that the simplest of phrases and statements set his nerves ablaze and sparks his soul with hope.

It’s so painful but so fucking invigorating.

Which is why, at one point or another, he must learn to let go, not completely, but enough to stop the analysing and obsessing and sweating and dreaming, and that’s what’s so enticing about this tale, that among the reaching, there must be patience in order to reach something stable. Dream has been going insane for far too long, pouring his heart out to the one he so desires, but with such want comes uncertainty and surprises. Who the hell would’ve thought George had feelings for Dream for a good while before reeling himself in, only for his emotions to be stimulated with affection all too unexpectedly.

and who would’ve foreseen the slap of pure angst that were chapters 9 and 10, George’s hopeful rejection.

We read the two flirt, smile and laugh until their chests ached, connect, talk and call for hours, send fucking snapchats to eachother, telling sentimental stories, and much more.

All for Dream to crumble, piece by piece, until he is on the floor and crying over missing a chance he’s been so desperately trying to take. After what felt like a blooming relationship, Dream is seen breaking.

Because George wasn’t ready.

Because George was hit by a sudden wave of emotion that is so confusing and overwhelming and what the fuck Dream.

Yet, not all has been lost. The blazing fire of yearning may have been rained on, but it has not gone out.

Because it’s not a no, it’s a not yet.

And I cannot tell you the power such a statement holds. It was such a simple phrase, yet it shook my core as it delivers something raw, something hopeful, something to look forward to and have you inhaling a breath of longing because embers are still sparking and maybe, maybe, that chance isn’t completely out of Dream’s reach.

He just has to work on listening, bettering himself, healing and reaching a point of self-contentment. A point where he knows: he’s right for George, he’s enough for George. And the same goes for the latter.

Everything is so messy and destructive and confusing, yet they still reach.

And that, that, is such a raw form of love that it left my chest tight. They both want to be the best for eachother. They want to work and try for eachother despite the pain it may bring. They wait, and with their patience comes progression, which slowly but surely, will turn into comfort.

And to have the ability to articulate and describe such a journey is insane in every sense of the world. This story takes your collection of emotions and rattles it, making you feel so much at once that when ending a reading session, you release a satisfactory breath.

It didn’t end with attained love, or accepting confessions, or a romantic moment during the visit, or promises of kisses, or whatever cliche closing you could think of.

It ended with two friends saying “see you soon”

And that was perfect.

Perfect enough leave me, the reader, content and in awe. Because this is a slow and difficult love, one that will simply need time, as time is what will heal.

I couldn’t have asked for a better ending. Dakota is truly an inspiration.

Thank you, for creating and sharing such a masterpiece of a story, and having your readers go through the entire spectrum of emotions.

I cannot wait for Helium.

#heat waves #dreamnotfound #hey dakota your writing is fucking flawless #not me crying over here #i had the song on loop while writing this lol #a story i will definitely return to #everybody say thank you dakota

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goblinconceivable · 3 years

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oh ffs, i have feels but also head exploded

So basically someone liked a story I wrote a million years ago and mostly forgotten about, and when that happens I often reread the thing. (I can’t be the only one who does that...) Can’t say I’ve thought about Alex/Izzie since I wrote it, couldn’t even tell you when I stopped watching the show, though I think it was before her cancer.

Anyway I infected myself with feels for them again. And I dig the style I was using, 1+1 started a third chapter for funsies and should have stopped there. Because I did some reading and watched some clips and it’s all too much and when that happens I meta.

Usual mishmash, structure desired but no work put into achieving it. Classic brain dump.

Okay, fundamentals first. I am for now ignoring how Izzie/KH left the show. Because they had to exit her somehow and I’m sure Shonda was pissed at her, (or was leaving the door open for her return but I doubt it.) Haven’t seen it, if I needed to I could work it into my conception of their whole arc, but since I’m more critically hung up before that point, not worrying about it.

What’s got me messed up is that RIGHT AFTER Izzie promised to not go crazy, she... went crazy. Like, WTF was that about? I get that GA is all about the soapy drama, that is why I stopped watching. First couple seasons: brilliant. Downhill from there. But two things:

1) We never get to see these two happily together. One hot second and bam.*** Every. Time. Shonda allowed it for Meredith and Derek, but in my brain other couples got it for periods of time at the least. But these two, nope. And know what? THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN FASCINATING TO WATCH. I could delve into this and might swing back around but trying to hit highlights.

2) It set them on two different storylines instead of one. And Izzie got the short stick. Yes I can see how it works on paper, but not on screen. There are limits to the visual medium and limits to how much screen time they were given, which pretty much destroy the ability to nuance something this complex.

a) Izzie’s in her own world dealing with a ghost and is basically in two relationships at once (mental note to look for parallels with Alex’s exit and Jo v Izzie.) Except one’s a dream and the other is a reality that is still developing, yet she can’t give attention to. She has to fight every time to be there for Alex in the real world, and we don’t really get to explore her struggle. It often just looks like distraction and distance and him being second right after she firmly laid out that she cares about him.

b) Alex is in a relationship and is super happy and excited and wants the perfection he’s dreamed about to be real so much he’s overlooking everything that’s off. In his own little dream world I guess, but like, the whole thing skews into this being the story of Alex while Izzie is wandering in circles somewhere over in that direction, all serving the purpose of advancing exploration and development of Alex’s character. When did KH ask to be let out? If it was after this point, Shonda svcks. I mean, it is cool to watch him really blossom, but since he’s doing it under his own steam I’m left with a bad taste in my mouth. Because he’s not really in a real relationship. I want to see him get that, I want to see it for real.

***What IS interesting, I’ll admit, is that when they’re not together, they’re beautiful. Which is most of the time, so they gave me that. I’m a massive fan of the bittersweet, the star crossed, the never-quite-on-the-same-page, the nuance, the “it’s a deeper connection, a deeper love than just romance.” Thank gosh, it is time for excited thoughts. Because there is a strong friendship and mutual reliance and helping each other grow, pushing and giving hard truths and encouragement, and yes romance is woven through this but not the genesis and used more in terms of nudging everything along the path.

I love that Alex basically imprints on Izzie. I love that he loves her the whole time. But he’s willing to step back. He may get jealous and resentful and petty and scared and mean. But those are natural human emotions, Izzie gets them too, and they’re fundamental to his character and through those things he learns and grows. Izzie doesn’t make him. She entices him. Yeah, often directs him, especially at first. But at some point he’s growing on his own, in fits and starts, in reaction to his own emotions.

For example, when Izzie tells him she slept with George, he gets pissed, but also admits why pretty readily. And he tells her the truth, remarkably straightforwards. He reaches out to her a lot. And she turns him aside a lot. And he keeps loving. Even if romance is off the table. He runs after her a lot. Sits next to her when she’s upset a lot. Is understanding a lot. He’s different with her, and look I’m a fangirl, it’s a trope, I swallow bait line and hook. Which should be bait hook and line if my vague understanding of fishing is correct. I fished once, with safety implements, and still cried even as they removed the fish and popped it back into the water. (Okay I just reread to sort out where I’d gotten too and it’s hook line and sinker. Statistically someone will probably read this someday, you have my full permission to laugh at me. Anyway...)

The quintessential moment, the revved to 100, of course being when Izzie is clinging to a dead Denny. They’re all standing around. No one even looks surprised with jilted Alex talks to her. In a really caring way. And this is still fairly early on, wasn’t watching anything but their scenes but this had to be rare sight eh? (Mebbe?) And then he picks her up and sits down holding her and she clings and cries and like symbolism and could essay that but not going to right now because the broad relevant stroke is that Alex loves Izzie selflessly. And this is the pinpoint core of why I can buy his ending, because he can’t NOT love Izzie. I don’t think he even wants to stop. Though he can set it down in his heart and let her go and doesn’t pine. But he never stops loving her and it’s so many kinds of love imperfectly yet perfecly forged.

Forged. But also born. Stars uncrossed. I have emotions without words and if I try I’ll never get out of it to move on, so moving on.

(Oh, George telling Alex to talk to Izzie because she won’t talk to him about whatever it was. Isn’t is crazy that Izzie’s emotional squishy bestie goes to the emotionally stunted bad boy to help her because... it’s an understanding of the two-way Izzie/Alex bond, but also this crazy trust that Alex will show up.)

I love that Izzie isn’t blind to his faults, truly doesn’t like his faults, but has eternal faith for who he is and can be. She always saw him as someone with walls, once she stumbled on a lose stone and got a glimpse inside. She knows. She doesn’t always understand, but she knows.

Slight divergence from that line of thought, but its a great moment when they get together and he’s fairly transparently trying to make sure they’re in a committed relationship by dangling other women in front of her, and she’s a little ticked that he seems to be taking it rudely casually. Probably a bit of insecurity, but I’d say more that she has a long history of not reading him from the perspective of him loving her. Ie, 100% not recognizing that telling him about sleeping with George would hurt him. And doesn’t get it until he comes in and he’s dropped the swagger and it’s a “I know I’m doing something wrong and I don’t know how to do it right so help me” thing.

(Random memories of Sloan/Don from The Newsroom when she’s crying on the floor and Don comes in a sits next to her. I wuvs them too.)

I love that she openly leans on him, when he offers support she takes it. She doesn’t ask why, she accepts it and leans into it and is open to it because she trusts him because she knows him. The bits where she hates him tend to fall out of romantic issues, but when that’s removed from the equation they’re in sync. And the thing is, just as caring is fundamental to Alex’s nature, trust is fundamental to Izzie’s. And those two things weave into each other. Kinda like rats and the food button. When Alex reaches out Izzie she honestly accepts it, a “reward.” So he’s comfortable doing it again, and again. And when she does rebuff him he’s seen rewards come out enough that he doesn’t just scatter. And when Izzie trusts him, he rewards her with gentleness and care. She has the rougher time of it overall, because Alex is more screwed up emotionally, and breaks her trust more often than she rebuffs him, but that’s where Alex’s constant love comes in. But I cannot recall enough critical moments to have a cohesive proof, so I could be a little off base.

In my head Alex has always loved Izzie more than Izzie loves him, but I think my memory was unfair. There is a real constancy to Izzie’s affection, though I don’t think she imprinted on Alex as he did on her. She’s a different person, loves differently, has different issues. But my longstanding impression is mostly because of Denny. Who she truly did love, though the qualities of that love deserve exploration which I will not at this time attempt. And Denny loved her. The whole “side loves along the way” being a trope. Though usually “it ended in death/deathlike state” is given to the man and so THANK YOU SHONDA. Thinking of classics like Jane Eyre and Rebecca though I think both were actually crazypants first wives. And I do think female character’s side guys have a habit of dying, but it tends to feel more like a plot point to shut the door on continued love, whereas Denny remains a part of Izzie’s life.

At any rate, despite superficial similarities, Alex doesn’t hit the trope because his crazypants relationship wasn’t ever really about the woman: yep Alex got Rebecca, and Rebecca was crazypants, and it was a plot point to get him to the crying. Rebecca wasn’t love. It was never love. BUT

She DID, in every way, highlight what needed to be highlighted. 1) That he desperately wants a family. 2) that caring for someone, not just about them, is fundamental to him, (and ties neatly into him caring for Izzie all those sitting on the floor conversations.) and c) it’s not entirely healthy. Which is ALSO why thrusting his new happy relationship with Izzie into caregiver role is insensitive and undermines the relationship because it only makes sense if we got to see them both happy in the relationship first. And then we can see the quality of his caregiving change. But we didn’t. So bugger it.

I do LOVE how they let almost the whole next season play out he fallout of all that. Something taken slowly! We got to explore it. Did feel a bit drawn out tbh. But it just emphasizes the weight of it, I guess. Especially as it was a subplot amongst 100 others. This was their development for the season. Which was mostly Alex. But Izzie’s reactions revealed some things about her as well. Majorly dancing around laying it out for a close look and I don’t know why.

Favourite moment? Maybe Izzie putting her hand on Alex’s chest when he’s freaking out and telling him to stop, he doesn’t need to say any more. Because he’s trying to convince her of something, and she understands. And the trying to convince is shredding him, and she knows that. It’s a very loving and accepting “stop.” She’d already taken charge of the situation, for the good of the patient. She’d already taken charge because she knew Alex couldn’t handle it, he was too deep in something to see clearly. And she’s still in charge. She doesn’t break down and cry for him, or try to comfort him, he’s been thrown back into childhood and PTSD might literally be at play and what he needs, and she understands, is someone he can trust, who’s calm and gentle but strong and solid, to say it’s okay. It’s going to be okay. You don’t have to carry this on your own. We have it now. Because when we’re little and in over our heads what we want and what we need is an adult to take the burden. And still the physical contact is comforting, her tone of voice reassuring. She creates a space where he can feel safe and heard.

Ugh, rewatching, and we’re watching him literally devolve. Stages of grief ya’ll. He’s using every tactic to try and get what he thinks he needs: being able to take care of Rebecca. He’s in denial that anything is wrong. He gets angry when Izzie grabs him, to the point of threatening to hit her (though it’s fighting words and not real threat, and Izzie totally knows that.) He dives into bargaining. She’ll be okay if he can take care of her. He can do it. He tries to convince her it’s true.

By the time he gets home it’s depression. Not just Rebecca, but about his mom. And Izzie approaches him differently. In the hospital it was immediate and she was “in charge,” and needed to be in all facets, but at home, with the situation taken care of, she’s a friend. An equal. Which is what he needs right now. His sticking point later is the crying, so I kinda wonder how he’d react just to having told her about taking care of his mom as a kid. Right at the start he told that kid about his dad, (dad beating up his mom and him beating up his dad) while Izzie was within listening distance and didn’t seem fussed. But it’s ultimately a story about him being manly and protecting his mom physically. Which would be why it’s several seasons in before this crops up - waaay more intimate information. Probably all lumped into one, with the crying as shorthand. And mostly that his past is a fact, it’s his emotions he wants to keep private and deny.

He clearly did try to drown his emotions with sex. I’m not sure it would have worked with a random girl because he’s way too close to crying to do much of anything. And obviously doesn’t work with Izzie because sex is apparently emotional intimacy and I guess comfort for men moreso than women, but it plays out as a desperate attempt to get comfort in a safer way. Bargaining again, I suppose. “Have sex and will be fine tomorrow.” But, as noted, he doesn’t get that far because it’s too heavy and he rather quickly is just sobbing.

Which is a lovely parallel to holding Izzie while she cried on him after Denny died. Though Izzie had no qualms and no massive emotional recoil because emotions and vulnerability are normalized for females Izzie is a particularly emotional person. And an inverse of all the times Izzie is an emotional wreck and Alex sits down besides her and offers her support and understanding.

Could also argue that Izzie just saying “I’m sorry... About Rebecca. And your mom” - it’s an emotionally intimate moment. Of understanding. She’s acknowledging the two situations, and isn’t trying to do anything about them, explain or push or anything else. Just make him feel understood and not alone and sex is the way he can respond to that. How to process that in a way that feels manly to him? Also notably Izzie does seem to be going with it, and it’s aborted because he starts sobbing. And is still saying “Please” which is amazing, because he totally was never asking Izzie to just sleep with him. He wants to make it stop - the pain, emotions, probably reliving memories. But also... stages of grief. He needs to feel it, so he can accept it. He really just needs to cry, and grieve, and not be alone.

And it’s like... this is where their love story feels epic because it would look so different if they didn’t have all the levels and layers of love. Take out the romantic/sexual aspect. Take out the friendship. The trust. The family. Take out anything and this can’t play out.

Who didn’t love moments like Alex explaining to Bernedette Peters that men sometimes need to protect their manliness in the eyes of the woman they love. And they’ll do shit things to protect that manliness, but it’s because they care. Which is obviously idiotic and while romantic on screen is very much not so in real life, but this is fiction so hey ho. It’s such a wonderful foil. Because the situation here was not that Alex took his pain elsewhere to protect Izzie’s opinion, but that Alex completely and for a long time shut Izzie out to protect his manliness, which is entirely counterproductive but the only option he could see. He minimizes his experience as a “bad night.” (I mean, if you remove all the adjectives, he’s not wrong.) He’s protecting his own sense of manliness to himself. He doesn’t like feeling that vulnerable. He let Izzie get too close. He’s afraid. It’s all a tangle. And it pays off when they come back together and he’s willing to be more vulnerable, almost, and then enthusiastically, happy to be.

*But it does reference when he slept with Olivia when he failed his boards. So yeah, he’s done it literally too.

Backing up a step to revisit season 5. And actually they start out close. They’re all out in the cold waiting to greet patients and Alex grabs a blanket for her. He’s not irritated that Izzie keeps asking how he’s doing, just obviously in a bit of personal denial. And they’re totally messing around and lighthearted and look at each other with their heads really close and it begs some questions about the interim, though I guess they just haven’t talked about it deeper than “are you okay.” And per the Izzie/Meredith convo I guess they didn’t continue having sex (probably didn’t have sex that night either). Though the way Izzie looks at him as he leaves, she’s totally concerned that he’s not dealing with it.

Ah yes, forgot - so they just kept his breakdown unremarked upon, the superficial checking in is situational because Rebecca is a fact. They don’t talk about it, it’s fine. Pretending it did not happen. But it’s as soon as Alex thinks Izzie told Meredith about it that it goes pear shaped. It’s funny that his issue is the crying and he’s the one that told Meredith, but thematically Izzie saying “he’s opening up to me” is sorta the same. Also awww that even as she labels them friends, there’s this little glow inside her that they got closer. Emotional intimacy, what’s life without it eh?

So also 100% it’s high on Alex’s mind. That he did it, and so too that Izzie could betray him and tell others. Their relationship is so beautifully fragile in that short interim. It’s this little bubble where he’s okay that he was vulnerable with Izzie because she accepted it and isn’t making a big deal about it. And he does feel super close to her. But he can’t take anyone else seeing him in a non-manly light. For himself, and it works in terms of Izzie too if it’s an inside/outside situation. I’m a bit stuck and going in circles. If Izzie tells, then Izzie isn’t taking it seriously? Doesn’t understand him? I don’t think he’s even angry at her, if he looks weak to others then she’ll come to see him as weak? Halp, stuck.

Also so, I’ve seen it remarked upon that Izzie tends to forgive Alex when she maybe shouldn’t. But part of forgiveness can come from understanding the other person. Doesn’t have to be, especially for little stuff. But for big stuff?

Oh, and so weird but kinda cool that right after that rather self-aware conversation with Peters, he specifically lets Izzy see him with another woman. Were those scenes meant to be inverted? Or is he going into this eyes wide open? Trying to prove something? He’s hurting her though, is it intentional? Because cheating, by nature, is secretive, your person doesn’t know so you’re not hurting them directly, though of course when they find out it blows up. But the intention to wound is not there, it’s an escape. Proving that he’s really fine and back to his old self? They are not sleeping together so this isn’t cheating.

And even after that Izzy just shrugged it off. Popped in to tell him they maybe are getting kicked out, tries to get an apartment with him. She’s holding on to their closeness and friendship, despite him being prickly. And then... he smacks her or whatever they were doing which is back to flirty, and not meaningful but notably guides her out of the elevator before him. Though her barb about STD did hit him. Maybe he was trying to figure out how to stop being rude at her, and her continued friendliness was bufffer space until he could? He does say hello at the end, but who was she talking to about having no one?

It does bring up an interesting insight. It is true bout not something I thought about, that Izzie could be lonely, and actually does get as much out of their relationship as Alex ever did. They are incredibly close. And I think George might be married at this point, and thus no longer her “person”?

And then into the cryptic speak about them, while the father/son organ musical chair thing was happening. He’s looking over his shoulder at her, glances up, unspoken words yadda yadda. Follows her out into the hall when she leaves. The freeze out is shorter than I remember, but look, they kinda always keep communicating because freeze outs do not feel right. And I’ve moved to a blow by blow but Alex is trying to talk profession, and Izzie doublespeaks the “emotionally stunted” and he physically recoils and stutters like “yeah but no, that’s not what we’re talking about” and yet is now there and talking about them too. “Okay, ... I”m trying to be- I am, but this” WHAT is he trying to be/is??? Trying to not be emotionally stunted. Is emotionally stunted (or doubling down on trying?)

This is just such a beautiful conversation. Because Izzie IS emotional and caring but she has a mean backhand. Pettiness, ultimatum, she can smack back as hard as anyone smacks her. And she’s coming from a totally reasonable place, because he’s going hot and cold on her. And you can see that it affects him, and that falls out from that same pattern where he’s trying to tell her somehing and she’s not putting in a ton of effort to figure out what he’s saying, but is focused on her own needs and thoughts. ‘Cuz she’s hearing something like “give it up, you’re not going to get what you want out of me.” And he’s trying to say “I’m afraid I can’t be what you need, because I svck, please don’t make me try and fail.”

And they’re convo through parallels continues, Izzie calls Alex broken and is like “okay I do it your way my caring for you is pointless and it’s all fine.” Dad calls for son while kinda dying. I know they claimed different thought process but didn’t Alex call for Izzie when he was shot? And the payout from the series of exchanges: Alex is yelling at his standin to just step up and show he cares. With a hefty does of potential regret. It’s a 180, hoping that the kid does love his day, as well as getting emotionally invested. His relationship with his father isn’t mentioned, not sure if it’s meant to play into this, because he has previously acknowledged that he regrets losing his father completely.

(But then 10 seconds later she’s going to go crazy and by avoiding treatment it’s kinda like trying to kill herself and just... poor taste writers, poor taste.)

Cue a moment where Izzie knows what he’s trying to say and rewards it.

Enter Izzie being a little obtuse, I know I covered this but ending my personal cannon with them getting together - Alex literally says “are we going steady.” He’s literally saying “you tell me yes or no, and I will do that.” Of course he’s trying to say “I don’t know if you’re serious and I want to be please clarify and reassure” but one of those literal ones should have been enough. But then Izzie does always push him, not always intentionally, to be a little more direct, a little more vulnerable, trust her a little more. And the result is sooooo adorable!

And brings to mind when Izzie was trying to ask him out for the first time. And it went a tiny bit screwy and Alex flips it and asks her out.

There’s just so much awesome. *sobs* And there’s probably awesome in the cancer storyline too but I do not feel I can trust it and also it’s going to run full into Izzie being lame and leaving and all character development out the window? And I DO NOT want to see her trying to come back and Alex saying No. Because what will I see in the middle that gets them there? They always say yes. Eventually. And season 16 when JC is leaving the show is a bit on the long side, even if I ignore the details of the intervening years.

Throwing everything at the wall and maybe I’ll be done with dumping or can at least refine things. It’s the little speech I’ve only read and don’t want to hear bcause not sure how he did his line-read, but when he describes how he imagines Izzie’s life. In how much detail, how much he wants for her, what he knows she’s capable of building. He’s saying it to Jo and I’m uncomfortable with the idea he loves her, even if the letter to her does leak a “love you, in love with Izzie,” and I’m fine with Izzie loving Denny and don’t find it a problem Jo is still alive because I don’t see Alex going back but the thing where if he looks her in the eye he won’t return to Izzie and the kids is upsetting. And it’s just the kids and insta-family which is enticing. I mean, he’s not going to tell wife he’s leaving that he’s always loved his ex in a different way or anything. But he’s also not lying. He does mention to Meredith that he can’t go back to Seattle. He’d stay with Jo then out of... ? Halp. The best I got is he’s currently in a dream and if he goes back to his life, where he was happy, then he’ll lose the dream and it will disappear on him?

Slightly nicer is the elsewhere expressed (Meredith) idea that he’d set Izzie as unreachable. Thus, in line with what he told Jo, he didn’t want to contact her because he didn’t want to make it worse for himself, and his happiness comparison was completely excluding himself from the possibility of being part of Izzie’s life. It’s all happiness of them individually, not together. But yes, he always wanted to reach out, wanted to hear her voice and he never had an excuse? No excuse but curiousity, and that wasn’t enough to take a chance, but this was an excuse and he took it.

And the idea that he knows the right thing is to stay in Seattle, and being with Izzie and the kids is crazy, but it’s what makes him happiest, where he belongs. Meredith’s letter read first, so in that light, he’s overexplaining to Jo. Also exposition. References that conversation about his mental picture of Izzie, which I think was in the context of Jo questioning his feelings for Izzie. It scared him because... ? He focuses on the kids. It’s a little at odds with doing this for him, and a little suddenly ignoring the fact that he’s In Love with Izzie and I guess his mental image for Izzie was also his dream life and he gave it to her. Though where he thought her kids came from is possibly an oversight. Adoption?

Because it makes it sound like he’s torn between new and old love but the old love has is kids and wins. It’s a free pass to perfection. But he imagined a “whole life” for her, which is a massive investment opf time and emotional energy on someone he hasn’t seen in forever. I mean thinking well for an ex is al well and good but this sounds a bit beyond that, where she’s not a part of his life but a part of HIS life, believing she’s okay makes everything okay.

I am also willing to take up arms and claim that “I can’t look you in the eye because I wouldt be able to walk away...” doesn’t mean walk away from Jo, but walk away from Izzie. But that’s kinda tenuous. It just... it sounds like if he sees Jo he won’t be able to leave her, which puts her above Izzie (and even the kids, though he can still be in their lives) and that contradicts other statements, or at least their implications .

Though fair point that there’s a metric of who you’ll give up everything for. Izzie would for Denny. In a sense, I hear Meredith got her back in the Seattle hospital and she declined out of respect for Alex’s feelings. So in a way she gave up her life for Alex. And never reached out to him but did respond when he did. She picked up the phone. Maybe not knowing who it was, or they all kept their own phones. And Alex gave it all up for Izzie+kids. I want to know he’d give it all up for Izzie alone, and the life they could have had.

Or is it that he wouldn’t be able to leave Jo because, as noted to Meredith, it’s the right thing to stay in Seattle. And he’s become a man who does the right thing. And sometimes the right thing isn’t what we truly want, and to get that we have to be selfish. He one perfect thing is in Kansas. And it’s the family. It’s a family with Izzie. And his kids. It’s the whole package. If it wasn’t Izzie, the kids wouldn’t be enough? Also indicates that even with Jo was not exactly where he should be.

I’m also going with “some clues in various directions to satisfy various viewers but really offending most of them because this is all 10 years ago and people are newer viewers or forgot or hated Izzie when she left etc.” But preponderance of evidence leans in favour of this choosing what makes him happiest over what makes him happy.

ETA: he has a life for Izzie in his head because if she’s not happy, he can’t leave her where she is. He sees her as an optimist, the opposite of him and good things happen when you lean in that direction. He imagines her somewhere woody because that’s where they lived when they were married.

ETA2: Izzie didn’t notice Alex wanted to be exclusive. Because Izzie sees the good in him, but she doesn’t try to justify or explain things. She takes him at face value (mostly, she knows superficial crabbiness is just an unpleasant personality trait.) Until/unless she has very good evidence to he contrary. And THAT is why he has to take an active role and go to her. He does have to work for the relationship.

(Briefly skipped to a scene in season 6 (avoiding that season) and he actually says “I can’t be your nurse” which is so much character growth. Because I was afraid he’d gone full out into caregiver mode, which is not healthy for either of them. He’s protecting himself, but also pushing her to face up.)

CODAS

Watched Alex calling for/hallucinating Izzie when shot. Maybe it’s a Miranda thing? After freaking out right after she died, about how he can’t live without her, his breakup speech was essentially about how he realized he could survive without her. He doesn’t need her like that. And he was really hurt by the really shitty thing she did, leaving him. Thus valid conclusion that they should part ways and he’s not caught in the love/hate. But at some point after that, per hallucination conversation, he really wants her to... come back for him. To love him enough to not be able to stay away and come back for him it’s funny because the best way for her to love him was the respect his wishes and not come back. I mean she doesn’t even say anything after he asks that.

Interesting point “we married...” It’s a promise. He starts with “I’m sorry.” His breakup speech to her - rehearsed? He’s speaking from love and hate all blended and I think he’s a lot more honest and self aware, and he’s almost always been honest with Izzie. So his dying speech was also fear based? He’s scared, he’s in shock, like, physical shock. To when is his mind taking him? It’s natural to have regrets after a painful but necessary breakup. It’s been months but that’s still recent enough. So on the whole, inconclusive except yeah, he isn’t over her, but he admits during their breakup that he loves her “so much.”

Also love his “frozen together in time... and now we’re not.” They’ve both grown and changed, and so has their relationship, but there connection hasn’t. That hasn’t changed.

So back to his Izzie speech, which is meaningful intentionally as in 300th episode, where years later he was wondering still about her, enough to create a good life for her. A happy, rich and full life. He imagines it clearly and deeply enough to add smell to it. Smell is heavily linked to memory and emotion.

As happy as he is with Jo. Maybe it’s contentment? Something missing for each of them but not something he consciously knows? Meh. Back to frozen. He has an image, a full rich image of her and her life. It’s immersive but static, a snapshot. And the him who looks at that snapshot is the same him over time.

Letter to Meredith. “It’s about me.” Which is sorta back to breakup speech. It was about him, ending the relationship. He didn’t deserve to be left. And this is about him, not leaving Izzie+kids. There’s movement and beauty in this.

Meredith/Alex talking true love. So I’m torn. Jo refused his proposal, and the question is if you only get one true love. Did he think Jo was a true love, and if she refuses him it’s not? Or is he hoping that true love happens after they’re married? Given the constancy of his love for Izzie, from fairly early on, even if he didn’t call it that at the time I’m pretty sure it’s indisputedly much earlier than marriage, and she turned him down all the time, which would forestall true love worse, right? Can’t say as I’m not watching any Jo/Alex, cannot will not no need don’t gotta.

#alex x izzie #grey's anatomy #brain dump #meta #why couldn't i just leave well enough alone #and mess around with a vignette for funsies and a writing exercise #and not actually look at canon #because now i have feels #and am confused #and there are barriers to my feels #but it's okay i will live in my own little AU #and remember and know more than i did #given it was many many many years ago #i mean over 13 #right after season 4 started #izzex

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benaffleckofcrowdsurfing · 4 years

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Lazerquest - part 1

Alex Turner x Reader

Chapter 1/?

Description: you are an impulsive bartender who recently moved to London after traveling across the United States and living on the road for a few years. You befriend Alex, a musician who recently got out of a long term relationship, and you show him the ways of your free-spirited lifestyle in an attempt to help him move on from his ex. However, you become more of a muse than a friend for Alex and all is revealed when he releases his band’s fourth studio album, “Suck it and See”.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: none ;)

**************

“You know, Y/N, this isn’t a terrible place to have to work,” your flat-mate, Tatiana, sighed. The two of you were sat sipping glasses of red wine at the bar of a rather bustling club in London. You couldn’t stop thinking about how six months ago if you had told yourself that you finally settled down in one spot for long enough to get a serious job and a flat with a lease for more than 6 months, you would have laughed in your own face. Although, you could say that about anything you had done as of late. Your recent life decisions had been everything but predictable.

“I know. I’m just not thrilled to be the only female working the bar. The guys here sketch me out and I’m not too keen on getting womanized in a foreign country. That was on my mind enough as is when I was living in my parents’ house,” you joke. As lighthearted as you and Tati were being, you very much did feel uneasy. After travelling the United States for nearly 3 years after high school, you felt that you needed to move on to something bigger and more exciting, but you had never left the country before and you knew only one person here.

You had always been the spontaneous type. Your parents worried about you most of your life, as you were extremely impulsive and constantly making brash decisions. When you turned 18 and decided to take off across the country on your own instead of going to college, they were absolutely furious. You went nonetheless, what they thought had never stopped you before. Your excursion was originally only going to be a year long, but you absolutely loved being on the road. You had met so many wonderful people and seen so many wonderful things that going home never once crossed your mind. You just kept on sleeping in hotel rooms and on strangers’ couches until you turned 21.

That couldn’t last forever, though. You were getting bored of the lower 48 states, and your parents, still completely livid that you were ‘wasting’ their college money on what they saw as a cross-country bender, cut you off financially. It was an extremely stressful time, you can vividly remember searching for hours on end for roommates and jobs in Europe before meeting Tatiana and getting a bartending job in the UK.

Now, 2 short months later, you were in London, living alone with a stranger. Luckily, though, you and Tati were getting along famously and your flat already felt like home. You were eager to start this new adventure.

Tati looked over at the clock before pouting a bit and resting her hand on your knee. “Looks like it’s time for your first day of work, love.”

“Shit. I’m nervous. Do I look okay?” You got up out of your seat and did a little spin for Tati. She squealed and gave you a hug.

“You look fantastic, love. Now go make some money!”

You smiled at your new friend and bid her farewell before walking towards the back of the club. Once you approached the door with a sign that read “EMPLOYEES ONLY”, you took a deep breath. Here we go kiddo. New job. New country. New life.

The second you placed your hand on the door, a large man barged through it. The man huffed and began to tell you that you couldn’t go into the kitchen unless you were an employee. He stopped his lecture and just smiled and when he noticed you were in the club’s uniform of a black dress, Mary Jane heels, and a red name tag, though.

“Oi! You must be Y/N, then?” He chuckled. When you shyly nodded he gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I’m your manager, Chuck. Let’s get you behind the bar, shall we?”

**********************

After an hour or so of Chuck showing you where things were, how to ring people up, how to use the cash register, and making sure you actually knew how to make drinks, he left you on your own to serve customers. There were only a few stragglers left in the club as it was near closing time, and all you had done the whole night was pass out some tequila shots to a group of rowdy middle aged women and make some small talk with a man who reminded you a bit of Frank Gallagher from a show called Shameless that you used to watch back home. You were exhausted and started to clean up behind the bar so you’d have less to do when the bar closed for good. It was nearly 2 in the morning and all you wanted to do was get out of your tight ass dress and your heels.

“What kind of work uniform is a slutty dress anyway, huh? I look like I work on the corner” you mumbled to yourself as you wiped down some glasses.

“I think you look lovely, miss,” a voice said from the corner of the bar. His accent was unlike most men in Londons’ and his voice was raspy and thick. His sudden presence startled you a bit, making you jump a bit and let out a gasp.

“Didn’t mean to creep up on yah and scare yah like that, I’m sorry.” The man chuckled. When you turned around you saw an attractive man, maybe a bit older than you, smirking at you and smoking a cigarette. He had messy hair and a tee shirt on, you thought he looked like he had just gotten out of bed.

“You’re alright, it’s my fault for zoning out while on the clock. What can I get for you?” You smiled weakly, partially hoping he’d just order a quick drink and then get out of your hair so you could go home.

“Well, what are you good at making?” the man asked. “I’ll take anything as long as it’s alcoholic.”

You smiled. Making drinks for friends back home had been one of your favorite things to do, and you were excited to show off your skills to an actual customer. “Well, I’ve wanted a grapefruit daiquiri since the beginning of my shift. How does that sound?”

“That sounds fantastic,” the man rubbed his hands together in excitement, “but first I’d like to know how long you’ve been in London. You sound quite American.”

Oh brother, you thought. The attractive stranger seemed to be here to stay and the idea of making conversation when you were this tired made you want to cry. If you had been any less worn-out you would’ve been more than eager to talk to him, brown eyes were always a weakness of yours and there was something particularly enticing about this boy’s, but right now you just wanted to curl up into a ball and sleep.

“Well go on then, don’t just stare off into space and leave me hanging,” the boy said.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit tired. I’ve only been here for a few days now.”

The boy was rather amused by this. “A few days? And here you are working the closing shift at one of the best bars in London? I’m going to need some more information, love. You’ve drawn me in now.”

The boy’s excitement perked you up a bit. You had been rather proud of yourself to land a job at such a well-known club with only over-the-phone interviews, and you weren’t going to miss the opportunity to brag a bit. Especially to a cute boy.

“Yeah, I went to bartending school like right after my 21st birthday back in the states and then when I was looking for jobs here in the UK a few months ago I saw there was an opening here. I was really surprised to even have gotten an interview, especially since we had to do everything over-the-phone,” you beamed, knowing that it was impressive to get a job like this in the way you had. The boy looked at you intently while you made his drink. His eyes focused on your hands gripping the cocktail mixer and when you began to shake he had to do his best to hide a smirk.

“You know I never caught your name,” the boy cleared his throat and broke the momentary silence.

“You could’ve looked at my name tag,” you murmured just loud enough for him to hear and rolled your eyes playfully.

“Well I’m sorry Miss Sassy, I find it impolite to stare at a woman’s chest without knowin’ her. Not my fault that’s where your name tag is,” the stranger chuckled, then looked closely at the red tag pinned to your dress. “It’s nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Alex.”

you did your best to hold in a giggle. Alex sounded good saying your name, his accent was rich like honey and you couldn’t help but think about how it’d sound in…other situations.

“It’s very good to meet you, Alex, now here’s your daiquiri,” you said after pouring the contents of the shaker into a martini glass and adding a sprig of mint to the top. You slid the glass across the bar and nodded your head in satisfaction when he took his first sip and let out a little laugh.

“My goodness, Y/N, that’s a fantastic drink.”

“Thought you might like it. Now drink it quickly, it’s nearly closing time and I’ve still got to wipe down the counters and walk myself home,” you imitated pointing at a watch in your wrist.

“Walk yourself home? Love I couldn’t let you do that. Why don’t you let me finish this drink while you clean up and I’ll escort you home. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to you,” Alex proposed. If it had been anyone else you would’ve politely declined the offer, you knew that walking with a complete stranger in the middle of the night was just as sketchy if not more so than walking alone. But something about Alex made you want to trust him. Even when he had been checking you out while you were making his drink he hadn’t been creepy, his brown eyes had a sort of innocence to them and his smile was soft. You felt comfortable with Alex, and thought his company might be nice on the walk home.

“Deal.”

“Brilliant. Now get to work, Y/N, I’ll be done with my drink before you know it.”

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years

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Protea (Part 5)

She hears Snapdragon before she sees her. That steady and familiar clank-clack of her necklace. Mai could swear that she has added more knick-knacks to it. Her eyes hone in on it for a moment. She wonders if maybe the woman swaps out which trinkets she wears around her neck every now and again, or maybe she simply has several of these necklaces.

“No flowers today?”

“I’m all out?”

“All out?”

“I was only planning on sticking around until the festival was over.”

Snapdragon’s brows crinkle. “But I thought…” She swallows. “Mohi’s gonna be mighty disappointed.”

It dawns upon her that she had forgotten to mention that when she had offered the woman a job. “Stop looking at me like that, I’ve decided to stay.”

The woman seems to perk up again. Mai doesn’t think that she has ever seen someone’s eyes light up so brightly.

“What made you decide to stay?”

“I guess that I needed a little excitement in my life.”

“Oh. Where are ya gonna get that?”

Mai quirks a brow. Snapdragon points to herself and Mai nods. “I’ve never explored an abandoned industrial park before. My parents would kill me.”

“Where are you gonna be staying?”

“The palace.”

“The palace. How did you manage to get room there?”

“I used to date the Fire Lord.”

She blinks.

“It’s a long story. It ends...not so well. But he owes me and my family so I’m staying there.”

“That’s incredible. I’ve never been in a palace. Unless you count the factory. Sometimes I call that my palace and I made myself this throne, I can show it to you one day.” She resembles. Mai folds her arms and gives a slight smile as she continues. “But an actual palace...maybe one day you can take me there!”

“The flowers aren’t in yet so we have a few days off. I can take you there now, if you want. We can get you to the royal spa and wash some of this dirt off of your cheeks.”

“It’s not dirt, it’s oil and grease.”

“Because that’s much better. Come on.” Just as she turns around she catches Snapdragon rubbing her cheek. The effort was valiant and well-intended but she has only spread the grime to her nose and the back of her hand. Mai wonders if the woman will even take well to having a real bath.

.oOo.

Up close the palace is twice as thrilling with its spoked and multi-tiered roof. What a delight it would be to get the chance to shimmy her way up the side of it and leap from tier to tier. To grip those large golden spokes and find footholds in the windows and on the balconies. Of course, she wouldn’t trade her factory for it but the offer is pretty.

It is only when she lingers in its shadow that it becomes so terribly daunting. It isn’t so much about it’s impressive, awestricking size as it is the promise of what waits for her inside. All of those glamorous people and their lavish lifestyles. Their clean faces and pristine manners.

“Come on.” Mai gives her a gentle nudge.

She quietly follows her up the stairs. More stairs than she has ever ascended in her life.

“Nervous?”

“Why do you say that?”

“You aren’t chattering my ears off.”

“This isn’t nervous silence, it’s a...uh...it’s a happy hush.”

“A happy hush?” Mai quirks a brow. For once her amusement is quite thinly veiled. “If you say so.”

Inside the palace is somehow more elegant than its grand exterior. Portraits and tapestries cover gold trimmed walls. Candles flicker in filigree wall holders fixed to many great pillars. Everything is huge, almost absurdly so. She wanders up to a vase and eyes it. She thinks that she can squirm her way into and stand within with her head only just peeking out of it. She makes off to try when Mai says, “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t you dare crawl into that pot.”

Snapdragon frowns and scrambles to catch up with her.

“You really like exploring, don’t you?”

She nods, “you should see the jungles of Hira’a. They were really fun to explore. I was found in a jungle, you know?”

“That explains a lot.”

They pass by several guards and servants. Their eyes seem to follow her. The unease works its way back in, pushing out her sense of adventure. She finds that the stares of the servants have nothing on the glances she receives when Mai leads her into the banquet hall. Around the table are what she can imagine are councilmen, esteemed generals, and noble folk.

She had made a small effort to clean herself up today but she feels absolutely filthy amid all of them. They all smell so pleasantly and there isn’t a smudge of mud on them at all. Not on their finery and certainly not on their skin. Her tummy turns with flutters and queasiness.

“It’s alright.” Mai assures her.

“I don’t think I fit in well with this lot.”

The murmur as Mai leads her past them and she finds herself sticking close to the woman.

“Hi, Mai.” The Fire Lord greets.

“Zuko.” Mai returns the greeting.

“Who is this?”

“Just call her Snapdragon. You’ll understand if you talk to her more.” She pauses. “She wanted to see the palace so I’m giving her the tour and taking her to the spa.”

“Please do.” Comments a man near the far end of the table. “She smells of industrial waste.”

“She smells like an alley dweller.”

Snapdragon stuffs her hands into her pockets and tries to focus on something else. Something like the food. She has never seen so much of it in one place. She thinks that they have everything here; teeming blows of various and colorful fruits, plump roast duck, cabbage stew, miso soup, and plenty of noodles. And it all smells so enticing--unlike her, apparently.

“If you want to take her there you can and then you can join us for dinner. She can wear one of Azula’s outfits.”

At least some jubilance returns to her. She’s going to get to taste the delightfully scented food. Not only is she going to eat lavishly but she will get to do it in comfortable robes.

“This way.” Mai beckons.

The room she finds herself in next is also amazing. The dragon reliefs jutting from the backmost wall gleam in the sunlight that pours through a wide slit on the ceiling. There are plenty of shiny things in here. Glass bottles in many shapes and sizes, golden combs and brushes, a few small sculptures, and these little polished stones that accent the corners of each table. Snapdragon looks to the left and to the right before swiping one of the empty bottles and a polished stone.

“How are you not in jail?”

“I take worthless stuff, I don’t get caught, ‘n you don’t tattle.”

“You can keep the bottle, they won’t miss that. But, remember when you told me that sometimes you find stuff that isn’t trash and so people chase you?”

She nods.

“The stones aren’t trash. They’re rare gems and you will get chased.” She swipes the gemstone back and puts it at the corner of the table. “By the palace guard.”

Snapdragon rubs the back of her head. “I’ll just keep the bottle.” She sits herself down and leans back. The chair isn’t exactly comfortable and the sink is cool on her neck. Though it becomes significantly more pleasant when the servants arrive and begin scrubbing shampoo into her hair. Yet it is still so jarring to find herself being spoiled like this. And she still has a bath waiting for her. They are surprisingly gentle when working the more matted knots out of her hair. A few times they cut the knots out entirely. They finish washing her hair and sit her up. She didn’t realize that she’d be getting a haircut.

“There were a lot of knots that we couldn’t work with.” One of the servants apologizes softly. “We’re going to cut your hair and make it even.”

She stammers out a word or two of consent and by the time that they are done with her, her head feels so much lighter.

“I’ll show you to your bath.”

She follows the girl to the bathroom and slips out of her dirty robe. Once she gets herself situated the servant offers smiles, “would you like me to?”

“Like you to what?”

The girl laughs. “Give you a scrub.” She gently rubs the soap against Snapdragon’s shoulder. “Some nobles enjoy not having to do any of the work. The princess let us soap her back and arms but preferred to do the rest herself.”

“Oh…” she replies. “I’ll do it myself.” It is one thing to lounge in the communal bath and another entirely to let someone get that touchy.”

The girl hands her the bar of soap. “When you are done with it you can hand it back.” She gestures to another girl. “And when you are ready to get out Yora has your towel ready.

Snapdragon nods. She hadn’t realized that bathing was such a complex ritual.

“Try to relax.” Yora says. “We’re here to make bath time more leisurely for you.”

She supposes that it is nice to not have to scamper around for a towel and a change of clothes. She sinks into the tub and scrubs away at her arms until the water is dirtied. They drain it and fill it again until it comes away crystal clear. A floral aroma rises in languid curls of steam and she feels herself drifting off. She ought to savor the comfort because she probably won’t get a chance like this again.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Mai calls into the room.

The reminder leaves her belly rumbling so she gestures for the towel. She wraps it around her body and Yora pats her hair dry with a second one. The first serving girl hands her the most elegant robes.

.oOo.

She looks rather lovely. Well groomed and without that layer of, Snapdragon is rather pretty. Her eyes are wide and bright. Her freckled and soft. If not for the gaps in her teeth and her gangly limbs, she could very well pass for nobility.

That is until she actually takes her seat and begins eating. She doesn’t do it with the poise that the rest of them do. In fact she is a fast eater and she doesn’t bother with silverware nor chopsticks. Not even with the soups. She makes her way through the platters eating only bits and pieces, as though she can’t decide what to eat. And Mai think that, that is just it. She has so many options that she doesn’t know which to choose. Her innocent curiosity is almost endearing. If only she had some table manners.

At last Snapdragon seems to find a favorite and focuses on a helping of roast duck.

“Very good.” She says between mouthfuls.

Mai’s face flushes for her. The woman is clearly blessed with obliviousness and with her focus entirely on enjoying her meal she is spared the weight of a roomful of judging glowers. The only other person who doesn’t openly gawk at her is Zuko, who makes an effort to look away. She guesses that he understands what it is like to be spellbound and captured by the grandeur of the palace and its spoils.

Mai taps her and Snapdragon looks up from her roast duck. “You might want to slow down, you’re going to make yourself sick.”

And the ignorance is gone. Her face flushes. “They’re all staring at me.”

Mai grimaces. “Yeah. That too.”

She has to admire the woman’s resilience. She finishes her roast duck and a bowl of miso soup in spite of the disgusted stares. She helps herself to a small dessert as well--a bite or two of mochi--before setting it down.

.oOo.

Snapdragon leans back in her chair. She doesn’t think that she has ever been this full in her life. She certainly didn’t realize that being so full could ache like being completely empty. Though it is a much different kind of ache. A more sluggish, heavy ache. She supposes that it beats the painful, yearning kind.

“You feel nauseous, don’t you?” Mai rolls her eyes. “I told you to slow down.”

“I never get this much at Mohi’s place. I wanted to try…”

“A bit of everything.” Mai nods. “I can bring you back here again, you know.”

She surveys the table. Many of the nobles are pushing in their chairs and shooting her begrudging parting glances. “Do you think that’sa good idea?”

Mai shrugs. “Who cares. Honestly, I think that this place could use someone like you. It wouldn’t be so dull and uptight if everyone here wasn’t so…”

“If they didn’t act like someone shoved a prickly pear up their...”

Mai chuckles before cutting her off. “I was going to say rigid. But, yeah, that too.”

Snapdragon folds her arms across her chest.

“You got some sauce on your face.” She dabs at the corner of the woman’s mouth. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“I can’t stay here. Mohi gets worried. She ain’t say it but I know she does.”

“Alright, I’ll let Zuko know that I’m taking you home.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t recommend that. Jus’ let me go, the streets ‘round Mohi’s ain’t nice at night.”

“Then I’ll tell Zuko to loan you a pellinquin.”

“I can walk by myself, I’m used to it. One time I took down three muggers, I only got one black eye and my nose was really swollen and…”

“I’ll also bring a few guards along.”

.oOo.

“Are you sure that you want to leave? If you want you can stay in the palace with Mai.” Zuko offers.

“I’m sure.” Snapdragon nods. “I like being in my nest.”

“Your nest?”

“Don’t get her started on that, Zuko.”

“It isn’t any trouble. I think that it would be nice to have you around a little longer.”

“Uh...no thanks.” Snapdragon murmurs. “I’ll come back with Mai some time.”

“The nobles were making you uncomfortable, weren’t they? They’re usually not around.”

“I don’t think I belong in a palace.” Snapdragon says. “It’s easier out there, you know what’s goin’ on in people's heads. Nobles like to be all secretive and slick. That’s what Mohi says. In the streets you get punched in the face and then you know who to look out for. You never know who hates you in a place like this.” She takes a breath. “I mean I do ‘cause I guess that I’m such a freak that they couldn’t hide how they felt.”

“You’re not a freak, Snapdragon.” Mai sighs. “All of these people have decades of etiquette training. Do you know how hard they drill this stuff into your head? If you ask me, that’s what’s freaky.”

“Did they drill it into your head?”

Mai sighs, “why do you think I’m so…” she gives Zuko a pointed stare. “Blah.”

“You ain’t blah.”

“Thanks.” She mutters. “Can you loan us that pellinquin now, Zuko.”

He inhales sharply. “I’ll get a few guards to accompany you.”

“Do you want to come back here some time?” Mai askes. “Or have you been traumatized.”

“I don’t really like the folks here but…” She holds a hand to her tummy, “the food is great and,” she runs her fingers through her hair, “it’s nice to be all clean. Jasmine smells nice.”

“How about this, I’ll tomorrow I’ll meet you at the factory and I can teach you some palace etiquette.”

“I still wanna be in my nest.”

“We can converse in the palace gardens and in your factory. Don’t you want to explore a new place.”

Snapdragon nods.

Mai takes just a moment to wonder just what she is getting herself into. But, Agni, the woman had been so delighted when she stepped into the palace. She supposes that Snapdragon will be worth the hassle of...of dealing with Snapdragon. Mai’s lips quirk up into a slight smile. “Alright, let’s get you back to Mohi’s.”

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Mai #Maizula #Fanfiction

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fourteenaway · 3 years

Text

Little Lion Man | The Story of Cary / Part III

tw: rape, infidelity, pregnancy, stepcest

Exactly at seven-thirty that night, the door chimes sounded, punched by an impatient finger, forcing Caren to hurry lest the man waken Cary who hadn't liked being put to bed at such an early hour.

If she had taken pains to look her best, so had Harry. He strode in as if he already owned the place and her. He left behind a drift of shaving lotion with a piney forest scent, and every hair on his head was carefully in place, making her wonder if he had a thinning spot. She figured she’d find out for herself sooner or later.

She took his coat and hung it in the hall closet, then sashayed over to the bar where she busied herself as he sat down before the log fire she had burning nothing had been overlooked; She even had soft music playing.

By this time Caren knew enough about men and the ways of pleasing them best. There wasn't a man alive who wasn't charmed by a lovely woman bustling about, eager to wait on him, pamper and wine and dine him, if you asked her.

“Name your weakness, Harry."

"Scotch."

"On the rocks?"

"Neat."

He watched her every movement, which was deliberately graceful and deft. Then, turning her back she mixed a fruity drink for myself, lacing it lightly with vodka. And with her two little stemmed goblets on a silver tray, Caren seductively ambled his way, leaning to give him an enticing view of her braless bosom. She sat across from him and swung one leg over the other to allow the long slit of her rose-colored dress to open and expose one leg from silver sandal midway to the hip. He couldn't take his eyes off it.

"Sorry about the glasses,” Caren said smoothly, well pleased with his expression, "I don't have room in this cottage to unpack everything I own. Most of my crystal is in storage and I have here only wine glasses and water goblets."

"Scotch is scotch no matter how it's served. And what in the world is that thing you're sipping?" By this time he'd shifted his gaze to the low V of her gown.

"Well, you take orange juice freshly squeezed, a dab of lemon juice a dash of vodka, bit of coconut oil, and drop in a cherry to dive after. I call it A Maiden's Delight."

After a few minutes of conversation, they drifted to the dining table, not so far from the fireplace, to eat by candlelight. Every so often he'd drop his fork, or spoon, or she would, and both of them would go for it, then laugh to see who was fastest. Caren was, every time. He was much too distracted to spot a missing fork or spoon when a neckline opened up so obligingly.

"This is delicious chicken," he said after demolishing five hours of hard labor in about ten minutes. "Usually I don't like chicken-where'd you learn to prepare this dish?"

Caren told him the truth, “A Russian dancer taught me, she was on tour over here, and we liked each other. She and her husband stayed with Leeland and me, and we'd cook together whenever we weren't dancing or shopping or touring. It took four chickens to feed four people. Now you know the nasty truth about dancers; when it comes to eating we are not in the least dainty. That is, after a performance. Before we go on we have to eat very lightly."

He smiled and leaned across the small drop-leaf table. Candlelight was in his eyes, sparkling them devilishly.

"Caren, tell me honestly why you came to live in this hick town and why you've got your heart set on me for a lover."

"You flatter yourself," Caren said in her most aloof manner, thinking she was very successful in appearing cool on the outside while inside she was a web of conflicting emotions. It was almost as if she had stage fright and was in the wings waiting to go on. And this was the most important performance of her life. Then almost magically she felt she was on stage. She didn't have to think of how to act or what to say to charm him and make him forever hers. The script had been written a long time ago when she was hidden and first found out her mother had married him.

"You're not being honest with yourself," Harry said softly, "You know better than anyone where that missing piece is, or I wouldn't be here."

His voice was so low and seductive as he stood and took her into his arms to dance.

Caren put her head on his shoulder as they went on dancing, "You're wrong, Harry, I don't know why you're here. I don't know how to fill my days. When I'm teaching class and when I'm with my son, then I'm alive-but when he's in bed and I'm alone, I don't know what to do with myself. I know Cary needs a father, and when I think of his father I realize I've always managed to do the wrong thing. I've read my reviews that rave about the potential I had... but in my personal life I've made only mistakes, so what I accomplished professionally doesn't matter at all."

Caren stopped moving her feet and sniffled, then tried to hide her face, but he tilted it upward, then dried my tears and held his handkerchief so she could blow her nose. Then came the silence. The long, long silence. Their eyes met and clung and her heart started a faster thumping.

"Your problems are all so simple, Caren," he began, "all you need is someone like me, who needs someone like you. If Cary needs a father, then I need a son. See how simply all complicated matters are solved?"

Too simply, she thought, when he had a wife and she was discerning and cynical enough to know he couldn't possibly care for her enough.

“You have a wife you love," Caren said bitterly.

Caren shoved him away. She didn't want to get him too easily, but only after long and difficult struggles against her mother, and she wasn't here to know.

"Men are liars too," he said flatly, with some of the zest gone from his eyes. "I have a wife and occasionally we sleep together, but the fire has gone out. I don't know her. I don't think anyone knows her. She's a bundle of secrets, wound up tight, and she won't let me inside. It's gone on so long I don't care to be let in now. She can keep her secrets and her tears, and eat her way out of her anxieties and whatever it is that makes her wake up in the night and go and look in that damned blue album! Now she's overweight and she's written she's just had plastic surgery, a face lift, and I won't know her when she comes back. As if I ever really knew her!"

Caren panicked inside, he had to care! How could she break up a marriage that was already coming apart? She needed to feel she'd accomplished this against overwhelming odds!

“Go home!" Caren said, pushing at him. "Get out of my house! I don't know you well enough to even listen to your problems, and I don't believe you. I don't trust you!"

He laughed, mocking her, aroused by her puny efforts to push him away. His libido was fired and it flamed in his eyes as he grabbed her upper arms and drew her hard against him.

“Now you come off it! Look at the way you're dressed. You had me come here for a reason. So here I am, ready to be seduced. You seduced me the first time I saw you, and for the life of me it seems I've known you much longer than I actually have. Nobody plays games with me, then calls it a draw. You win or I win, but if we go to bed together we might wake up in the morning and find out we've both won."

Red lights flashed, Stop! Resist! Fight! Caren did none of those things. Caren beat on his chest with ineffectual small fists as he laughed and picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

With one hand he gripped both of her legs to keep them from kicking, and with the other he turned out the lamps. In the dark, with her still beating on his back, he carried her into her bedroom and threw her down on the comforter. She scrambled to get up, but he came at her fast!

There wasn't a chance to use the knee she had ready. He sensed her dancer's ability could defeat him so he lunged, caught her about the waist so they both tumbled to the floor! Caren opened her mouth to scream, but he clamped his hand upon her open lips, then pinioned her arms with his iron strength and sat on the legs that tried to kick herself free.

“Caren, my lovely seductress, you went to such a lot of trouble. You seduced me long ago, ballerina. Until the week before Christmas you are mine, and then my wife will be home-and I won't need you."

His hand eased away from her lips and she thought she would scream, but instead she bit out, “At least I didn't have to buy you with my father's millions!"

That did it. He crushed his lips brutally hard down on hers before she realized what was happening. This wasn't the way she wanted it! Caren wanted to tempt him, set him on fire, make him chase her, and give in only after a long and arduous pursuit that her mother could watch and suffer through, knowing she could do nothing or she'd talk. And yet he was taking her heartlessly, more ruthless than Leeland at his worst!

Savagely he bore down on her. He squirmed and writhed to grind in, even as his hands ripped and tore off her clinging rose dress. All she had on then was pantyhose, and soon he had those pulled down so her silver slippers came off and stayed inside of them.

With his lips still crushed brutally hard on hers, he carried her resisting hand to his zipper and squeezed until her knuckles cracked. It was either tug it down or have her fingers broken! How he managed to wiggle out of his clothes, even as he held her naked beneath him, she’d never know.

When he was naked, but for his socks, she kept on wiggling, writhing, squirming, butting and trying to scratch or bite while he kissed, fondled and explored. Caren had her chance to scream several times—but she too was breathing fast and hard, and jerking upward to force him off. But he took this as a welcoming arch of invitation. He entered, and had his too quick satisfaction, then pulled out before she had any.

"Get out of here." Caren screamed. “I'm calling the police! I'll have you thrown in jail, charged with assault and rape!"

He laughed scornfully, chucked her under the chin playfully, then stood up to pull on his clothes.

“Oh," he said, mocking her with an imitation of her own voice, “I am so frightened.” Then his voice was deeply earnest.“You aren't happy, are you? It didn't work out the way you planned it, but don't you worry, tomorrow night I'll be back, and maybe then you can please me enough, so I'll feel like taking the time to please you."

"I've got a gun!" She declared thought she didn't, “And if you dare set foot in this house again you're a dead man! Not that you are a man. You are more brute than human!"

“My wife often says the same thing," he said casually, zipping up his trousers shamelessly, without the decency to even turn his back. “But she likes it just the same, just as you did. Beef Wellington, you can have that tomorrow night, plus a tossed salad and a chocolate mousse for dessert. If you make me fat, we can burn off the calories in the most pleasant way possible,and I don't mean jogging."

He grinned, saluted her, put one foot behind the other to turn in a smartly, military fashion, then paused at the doorway as Caren sat up and clutched the remnants of her gown to her breasts.

“Same time tomorrow night, and I'll stay the night-that is, if you treat me right."

He left, and slammed the front door behind him.

Caren began to cry, not from pity for herself. It was frustration so huge she could have torn him limb from limb!

She’d lace the beef wellington with arsenic.

A small timid sound came from outside her door then.

“Mommy... I'm scared. Are you cryin', Mommy?" Came Cary’s soft voice.

Hastily she pulled on a robe and called him in, then held him close in her arms. “Darling, darling, Mommy is all right. You had a bad dream. Mommy isn't crying... see?"

Cary peered into her face worriedly, he heard too much, not that he understood it all. Cowering in his bed scared, before he finally got up and got to his mother’s door.

Caren brushed away the tears, for she'd get even.

Three dozen red roses arrived while Cary and she were eating breakfast, he long-stemmed variety from the florist.

A small white card read: I'm sending you a big bouquet of roses, One for every night you'll have my heart.

No name. And what the devil was she supposed to do with three dozen roses in a matchbox house? She couldn't send them to a children's ward; the hospital was miles and miles away.

Cary decided what to do with them, "Oh, Mommy, how pretty! Uncle William's roses!"

For Cary she kept the roses instead of throwing them out, and in many vases she scattered them throughout the house.

He was delighted, and when she took him with her to dancing school he told all the students, roses were all over his home-even in the bathroom.

After lunch Caren drove Cary to the nursery school he so loved. It was a Montessori school that was inspiring him to want to learn by appealing to his senses.

Already he could print his name, and he was only three! He was like Daniel, Caren told herself, brilliant, handsome, talented, oh, her Cary had everything—but a father.

From his bright blue eyes shone the quick intelligence of someone who would have a lifetime curiosity about everything.

“Cary, I love you."

"I know that, Mommy. I love you too," he said before he waved good-bye as she drove off.

Caren was there to meet him when he came from his school, his small face flushed and troubled.

"Mommy," he said as soon as he was beside her in the car, "Victor Harding, he said his mommy slapped him when he touched her there."

And he shyly pointed at her breast, “You don't slap me when I touch you there,” Cary whispered.

"But you don't touch me there, not since you were a little baby and Mommy nursed you for a short while."

"Did you slap me then?" He asked, looking so worried.

"No, of course not. Babies are meant to suckle their mother's breasts, and I would never slap you for touching there, so if you want to try me, go ahead and touch,” Caren said.

Cary lifted his small hand and reached out tentatively while he watched his mother’s face to see if she'd be shocked.

Oh, how fast the young learned all the taboos, Caren thought.

And when he'd touched and God's lightning hadn't struck him down, he smiled, very relieved.

"Oh, it's just a soft place," he laughed at the pleasant discovery he made before he threw his arms his mothers neck, “I love you, Mommy. Cause you love me even when I'm bad."

"I'll always love you, Cary. And if you're bad sometimes, I'll try and understand."

Yes, she was not going to be like her mother. She was going to be the perfect mother, and someday he'd have a father too.

How was it that little children, such young ones, would already be talking of sin and being slapped for only touching?

Caren stopped to buy stamps before she reached home, and left Cary dozing on the front seat.

Harry was in the post office, which was no larger than her living room, buying stamps too.

Charmingly he smiled at her, as if nothing untoward had happened between them the night before.

He even had the nerve to follow her to her car so he could ask how she liked the roses.

"Not your kind of roses," she snapped, then got primly into her car and slammed the door in his face. She left him staring after her without a smile-in fact, he looked rather miserable.

At five-thirty a special-delivery man brought a small package to her front door. It was certified so she had to sign for it. Inside a larger box was another box, and inside of that was a velvet jewelry case which she quickly opened while Cary watched, all eyes. On black velvet lay a single rose composed of many diamonds. Also a card with a note that read, ‘Perhaps this kind of rose is more to your liking.’ She put the thing away as a trifle bought with her mother’s money, so it wasn't really from him, no more than the real roses.

He had the nerve to come that night at seven-thirty just as he'd said he would. Nevertheless, she readily let him in, then led him silently to the dining table with no to do about cocktails or other niceties. The table was set even more elaborately than the night before. She'd hauled out some boxes and done some unpacking, and on the table were her best lace mats and covered silver serving dishes.

Neither of them had as yet spoken. All his forgive-me roses she'd gathered together and they were in the box near his plate. On his empty plate was the jeweler's velvet container with the diamond rose brooch inside. She sat to watch his expression as he put the jewelry box aside casually, and just as casually moved the flower box out of his way.

He reached for the domed silver lid, ostensibly hiding the Beef Wellington underneath. His gaze lowered to stare at the huge platter that held one hot dog and a small dab of cold canned beans.

The disbelief in his eyes, his utter offended shock gave her so much satisfaction she almost liked him.

"You are now gazing upon Cary's favorite menu," she said, gloating. “It is exactly what he and I ate tonight for dinner, and since it was good enough for us, I thought it was good enough for you, so I saved some. Since I've already eaten, all of that is yours alone, and you may help yourself."

Scowling, he flashed her a burning, hard look, then savagely bit down into the hot dog which she’d sure had grown cold as the beans. But he gobbled down everything and drank his glass of milk, and for dessert she handed him a box of animal crackers.

First he stared at the box in another expression of dumbfounded amazement, then ripped it open, seized up a lion and snapped off the head in one bite.

"I take it you are one of those despicable liberated women who refuses to do anything to please a man!"

"Wrong. I am liberated only with some men. Others I can worship, adore and wait on happily.”

"You made me do what I did!” he objected strongly. “Do you think I planned it that way? I wanted us to find our relationship on an equal basis. Why did you wear that kind of dress?"

"It's the kind all chauvinist men prefer!"

"I am not a chauvinist, and I hate that kind of dress!"

"You like what I've got on better?” Caren sat up straighter to give him a better view of the old nappy sweater she had on. With it she wore faded blue jeans, with dirty sneakers on her feet, and her hair was skinned back and fastened in a granny's knot. Deliberately she'd pulled long strands free so they hung loose about her face, slovenly fringes to make her look more appealing. And no makeup prettied her face.

He was dressed to kill.

"At least you look honest and ready to let me do the pursuing. If there is one thing I despise, it's women who come on strong, like you did last night. I expected better from you than that kind of sleazy dress that showed everything to take the thrill from discovering for myself.”

He knitted his brows and mumbled, “From a damned harlot's red dress to blue jeans. In the course of one day, she changes into a teenybopper."

"It was rose-colored, not red! And besides, Harry, strong men like you always adore weak and passive stupid women, because basically you're meek yourself and afraid of an aggressive woman!"

"I am not weak or meek or anything but a man who likes to feel a man, not to be used for your own purposes. And as for passive women I despise them as much as I do aggressive ones. I just don't like the feeling of being the victim of a huntress leading me into a trap. What the hell are you trying to do to me? Why dislike me so much? I sent you rose and diamonds, and you can't even comb your hair and take the shine from your nose."

"You are looking at the natural me, and now that you've seen, you can leave."

Caren got up and walked to the front door and swung it open. “We are wrong for each other. Go back to your wife. She can have you, for I don't want you."

He came quickly, as if to obey, then seized her in his arms and kicked the door closed. “I love you, God knows why I do, but it seems I've always loved you."

Caren stared up in his face, disbelieving him, even as he took the pins from her hair and let it spill down. Out of long habit she tossed it about so it fluffed out and arranged itself, and smiling a little he tilted her face to his.

“May I kiss your natural lips? They are very beautiful lips."

Without waiting for permission he brushed his lips gently over hers.

Why didn't all men know that was the right way to start? She wondered. What woman wanted to be eaten alive, choked by a thrusting tongue? Not her, she wanted to be played like a violin, strummed pianissimo, in largo timing, fingered into legato, and let it grow into crescendo.

Deliciously she wanted to head toward the ecstatic heights that could only happen for her when the right words were spoken and the right kind of kisses, given before his hands came into play.

If he'd done for her only a little last night, this night he used all the skills he had. This time he took her to the stars where they both exploded, still holding tight to each other, and doomed to do it again, and then again.

He was hairy all over. Leeland had been hairless but for one thatch that grew in a thin line up to his navel.

She turned off her mind, and gave in to her senses and to this man who was now treating her like a lover.

But he didn't love her, she knew that. Harry was using her as a substitute for his wife, and when she came back she'd never see him again. She knew it, but still she took and she gave until they fell asleep in each other's arms.

When she slept, she dreamed. Leeland was in the silver music box her father had given her when she was six. Round and round he spun, his face ever turning toward her, accusing her with his jet eyes, and then he grew a mustache and was William, who only looked sad.

She ran fast to set him free from death in a music box when it turned into a coffin-and then it was Daniel inside, his eyes closed, his hands folded one over the other on his chest. Dead, dead.

‘DANIEL’, she shouted.

She awoke to find Harry gone and her pillow wet with tears.

Why did her mother start this, perhaps had she not, maybe she would have found Daniel right away, and before anyone else. She would have fallen in love with him with no revenge to carry out or repayments to deliver. But then she wouldn’t have Cary. But perhaps she still would have found Leeland and maybe he would have been what she wanted had she not had so many other priorities and he would have been good to her too.

Holding tight to her son's small hand she led him out into the cold morning air on her way to work.

Faint and far away she heard someone calling her name, and with it came the scent of an ocean breeze.

‘Why don't you come, Daniel, and save me from myself? Why only call in your thoughts?’ She thought.

Part one was done. Part two would begin when her mother knew she had Harry's child.

Harry and her didn't have to sneak around furtively to meet.

The houses where he lived were far apart and no one could see them when he came to her through the back door that opened out into a yard with a fence. In back of that was a country lane, shrubbed, and made private by many trees. Sometimes they met in a distant town and their lovemaking in a motel room was wild, sweet, tender, erotic and altogether satisfying, and yet she froze when he told her at lunch, “She called this morning, Caren. She'll be home before Christmas."

"That's nice," Caren said and went right on eating her salad and anticipating the Beef Wellington that would show up soon.

He frowned and his fork loaded with salad hesitated on the way to his mouth. “It means we won't be able to see as much of each other. Aren't you sorry?"

"We'll find ways."

"If you aren't the damndest woman!"

"Don't get so worked up over nothing. All women are monsters to men, and maybe to ourselves. We are our own worst enemies. You don't have to divorce her and give up your chance to inherit her fortune. Though she could outlive you and have the chance to buy another younger husband."

"Sometimes you are just as bitchy as she is! She did not buy me! I loved her! She loved me! I was crazy about her, as crazy for her as I am for you now. But she changed. When I met her she was sweet, charming, everything I wanted in a woman and wife, but she changed."

He stabbed the salad fork toward his mouth and chewed viciously, “She's always been a mystery-like you."

“Harry, my love," she said, “very soon all mystery walls will crumble."

He went on, as if she hadn't interrupted, “That father of hers, he too was a mystery; you'd look at him and see a fine old gentleman, but underneath was a heart of steel. I thought I was his only attorney, but he had six others, each of us assigned to different tasks. Mine was to make out his wills. He changed them dozens of times, putting this family member in, and writing another out, and adding codicils like a mad man, though he was sane enough right up until the very end. The last codicil was the worst."

Of course, no children for him, ever, she knew.

"Then you really were a practicing lawyer?" Caren asked.

He smiled bitterly, then answered, “Of course I was. And now I am again. A man needs something meaningful to do. How many times can anyone tour Europe before boredom sets in? You see the same old faces, doing the same old things, laughing at the same jokes. The Beautiful People what a laugh! Too much money buys everything but health, so they have no dreams left to purchase, and no aspirations, so in the end they are only bored."

"Why don't you divorce her and do something meaningful with your life?"

"She loves me.” That's the way he said it. Short. Sweet. He stayed because she loved him, forcing Caren to say, "You told me when we first met that you loved her, and then you say you don't which is it?"

He thought about it for a long time.

"Honestly, ballerina, I'm ambivalent and resentful. I love her, I hate her. I thought she was what you seem to be now. So please, smother that bitchy side that reminds me of her and don't try and do to me what she did. You are putting a wall between us because you know something I don't. I don't fall in love easily, and I wish I didn't love you."

He seemed suddenly a small boy, wistful, as if his pet dog might betray him and life would never be good again.

Caren was touched and dared to say, “Harry, I swear there will come a day when you know all my secrets and all of hers, but until that time comes say you love me, even if you don't mean it, for I can't enjoy being with you if I don't feel you love me just a little."

"A little? It seems I've loved you all my life. Even when I kissed you the first time it seemed I'd kissed you before, why is that?"

“Karma," she replied and smiled at his baffled expression.

Harry spent more time at her small home than at his huge one. He piled her with as many gifts, as he did Cary.

He ate his breakfast, lunch and dinner with them on the days he didn't spend in his office, which she privately believed was more a facade for appearing useful than a functioning law office.

Her dancing school suffered from his attention, but it didn't matter. She was now a kept woman. Paid to be his mistress.

And Cary was delighted with the little leather boots Harry gave him.

“Are you my daddy?" asked Cary, who would be four in February, "No. but I sure wish I was and I could be,” Harry answered.

It was only second before Cary was out in the yard, tromping around and staring down at his feet that fascinated him now that they wore cowboy boots.

Caren and Harry lay entwined after their lovemaking, listening to the wind blending with Cary's shrill laughter, racing after the poodle, Rainbow, that Harry had given him.

A few snow flurries were beginning to fall. She knew she had to get up soon so Cary wouldn't run in and catch them, just to tell them it was snowing.

He couldn't remember other snows, and barely would the ground be sugar-coated than he'd want to make a snowman. Sighing first, she kissed Harry, then reluctantly pulled from his embrace. She turned her back to pull on bikini panties as he propped up on an elbow and watched.

"You've got a lovely behind," he said. She said thanks, "What about my front?" He said it wasn't bad and she threw a shoe at him.

"Caren, why don't you say you love me?"

Caren whirled about, startled. "Have you ever said it to me and meant it?" She asked as she snapped on a bra.

"How do you know I don't mean it?" he asked with anger.

"Let me tell you how I know. When you love, you want that person with you all of the time. When you avoid the subject of divorce, that alone is an indication of how much you care for me and just where I belong in your life."

“Caren, you've been hurt, haven't you? I don't want to hurt you more. You play games with me. I've always known that. What does it matter if it is only sex and not love? And tell me how to know where one ends and the other begins?"

His teasing words were a knife in her heart, for somehow, without meaning to let it happen, she'd fallen madly, idiotically in love with him.

According to Harry's enthusiastic report, his long gone wife came home from her rejuvenation trip looking smashingly young and beautiful.

“She's lost twenty pounds. I swear, that face lift has done wonders! She looks sensational, and damn it, so unbelievably like you!"

It was easy to see how impressed he was with his new, younger-looking wife, and if he was only trying to take the wind from her too confident sails, Caren didn't let it show.

Then he was telling her she was just as necessary to him as before in a tone that said she was not.

“Caren, while she was in Texas she changed. She's like she used to be, the sweet, loving woman I married."

Men! How gullible they were! Of course her mother was sweeter and nicer to him now that she knew he had a mistress who was very accessible, and that the other woman was her own daughter. She'd have to know, for it was whispered all about how much Harry’s mistress looked like a younger version of his wife.

"So, why are you here with me when your wife is back and so like me? Why don't you put your clothes on and say goodbye and never come back? Say it was sweet while it lasted, but it's all over now, and I'll say thank you for a wonderful time before I kiss you farewell."

"Well," he drawled, pulling her hard against his naked body, “I didn't say she was that sensational looking. And then again, there is something special about you. I can't name it. I can't understand it. But I don't know if I can live without you now."

He said it seriously, truth in his dark eyes.

So she'd won.

Quite by accident her mother and her met in the post office one day. She saw her and shivered. Her lovely head lifted higher as she turned it slightly away, pretending she didn't know her.

She would deny her as she'd denied Cassidy, even though it was so obvious that they were mother and daughter and not strangers.

But Caren wasn't Cassidy. So she treated her as she treated her, indifferently, as if she were nobody special and never would be again.

Yet, as she waited impatiently for her roll of stamps, she saw her mother dart her eyes to follow the restless prowl of her young son who had to stare at everything and everyone.

He was a handsome, graceful, and charming boy who drew the eyes of everyone, who had to stop and admire him and pat his head.

Cary moved with innate style, unstudied and relaxed, at ease wherever he was, because he thought the whole world was his, and he was loved by everyone.

He turned to catch her mother's long stare and he smiled.

"Hello," he greeted. “You're pretty-like my mommy,” he told her.

Oh, the things children say! What innocent knowledge they had to see so readily what others instinctively refused to acknowledge.

He stepped closer to reach out and tentatively touch her fur coat. “My mommy's got a fur coat. My mommy is a dancer. Do you dance?"

She sighed, and Caren held her breath and thought, ‘See, Momma, there is the grandson your arms will never hold. You'll never hear him say your name. Never!’

"No," she whispered, “I'm not a dancer,” and tears filmed her eyes.

"My mommy can teach you how,” Cary smiled.

"I'm too old to learn," she whispered, backing off.

"No, you're not," said Cary, reaching for her hand as if he'd show her the way, but she pulled back and glanced at Caren reddened, then fumbled in her purse for a handkerchief.

Cary frowned slightly and went on unperturbed, “Do you have a little boy I can play with?" He questioned concerned to see her tears, as if having a son would make up for not knowing how to dance.

"No," she said in a quivering weak whisper, “I don't have any children.”

That's when Caren moved in to say in a cold, harsh voice, "Some women don't deserve to have children."

She paid for her roll of stamps and dropped them in her purse, “Some women like you, Mrs. Walters, would rather have money than the bother of children who might get in the way of good times. Time itself will sooner or later let you know if you made the right decision."

She turned her back and shivered again as if all her furs couldn't keep her warm enough. Then she strode from the post office and headed toward a chauffeur-driven, black limousine.

Like a queen she rode off, head held high, leaving Cary to ask, “Mommy, why don't you like that pretty lady? I like her a lot. She's like you, only not so pretty."

Caren didn't comment, though it was on the tip of her tongue to say something so ugly he would never forget it.

In the twilight of that evening Caren sat near the windows, staring toward her mothers house and wondering what Harry and her mother were doing. Her hands were on her abdomen which was still flat, but soon it would be swelling with the child that might be started.

One missed period didn't prove anything except she wanted Harry's baby, and little things made her feel sure there was a baby.

She let depression come and take her though. He wouldn't leave her and her money to marry her and she'd have another fatherless child.

What a fool to start all of this, but she'd always been a fool.

And then she saw a man slipping through the woods, coming to her, and she laughed, made confident again.

He loved her! He did and as soon as she knew for certain, she would tell him he was to be a father.

“Caren, you told me there was no need for precautions!"

"There was no need. I want your baby.”

"You want my baby? What the hell do you think I can do, marry you?"

"No. I did my own assuming. I presumed you'd have your fun with me and when it was over you'd go back to your wife and find yourself another playmate. And I'd have just what I set out to get, your baby. Now I can leave. So kiss me off, Harry, as just another of your little extramarital dalliances."

He looked furious. They were in my living room, while a fierce blizzard raged outside. Snow heaped in mounds window-high, and she was before the fireplace, knitting a baby bunting before she began a bootie. She was getting ready to slip a stitch then knit two together when Harry seized her knitting from my hands and hurled it away.

“It's unraveling!” Caren cried in dismay.

"What the hell are you trying to do to me, Caren? You know I can't marry you! I never lied and said I would. You're playing a game with me."

He choked and covered his face with his hands, then took them down and pleaded, "I love you. God help me but I do. I want you near me always, and I want my child too. What kind of game are you playing now?"

“Just a woman's game. The only game she can play and be sure of winning."

“Look," he said, trying to regain his control of the situation, “explain what you mean, don't double talk. Nothing has to change because my wife is back. You'll always have a place in my life/"

"In your life? Don't you mean more correctly, on the fringes of your life?"

For the first time she heard humility in his voice, "Caren, be reasonable. I love you, and I love my wife too. Sometimes I can't separate you from her. She came back different, as I told you, and now she is like she was when we first met. Maybe a more youthful figure and face has given her back some confidence she lost, and because of it she can be sweeter. Whatever the cause. I'm grateful. Even when I disliked her, I loved her. When she was hateful, I'd try and strike back by going to other women, but still I loved her. The one big issue we fight over is her unwillingness to have a child, even an adopted one. Of course she's too old to have one now. Please, Caren, stay! Don't leave! Don't take my child away so I will never know what happens to him, or to her...or to you."

Caren laid it out flat, “All right, I will stay on one condition. If you divorce her and marry me, only then will you have the child you always wanted. Otherwise, I'm taking myself, and that means your child too, far away. Maybe I'll write to let you know if you have a son or a daughter, and maybe I won't. Either way, once I leave, you are out of my life for good.”

Before the fireplace he stood with his arm up on the mantel, then he rested his forehead on that and stared down at the fire. His free hand was behind his back and clenched into a fist. His confused thoughts were so deep they reached out and touched Caren with pity. He turned then to face her, staring deep into her eyes.

“My God," he said, shocked by his discovery. "You planned this all along, didn't you? You came here to accomplish what you have, but why? Why should you choose me to hurt? What have I ever done to you, Caren, but love you? True, it started with sex, and sex only was what I wanted it to stay. But it has grown into something much more than that. I like being with you, just sitting and talking, or walking in the woods. I feel comfortable with you. I like the way you wait on me, and touch my cheek when you pass, and rumple my hair and kiss my neck, and the sweet, shy way you wake up and smile when you see me beside you. I like the clever games you play, keeping me always guessing, and always amused. I feel I have ten women in one, so now I feel I can't live without you. But I can't abandon my wife and marry you. She needs me!"

"You should have been an actor, Harry. Your words move me to tears."

"Damn you for taking this so lightly!” He bellowed. "You've got me on a rack and you're twisting the screws! Don't make me hate you and ruin the best months of my life!

With that he stormed out of her home, and she was left alone, ruefully regretting that she always talked too much, for she would stay as long as he needed her.

#i hope harry walters sr burns in a fire....oh wait...HHAHAHHAHAH #you should have been an actor harry - son is an actor #cary: musing #harry: musing #caren: musing #cary: story

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life-loss-leaving · 4 years

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Ok, so I’ve had some time to think about it and I think I’ve come to the realization of what really bothered me.

This is gonna be long — you were warned.

This series started off so... enticing.

It was funny, deep, great soundtrack, hot, chemistry spot on.

I started watching “live” right after the “Everything” scene. I remember watching that clip and feeling stunned for how good it was. Sarawat looking at him like that and Tine starting to finally ( or so I thought) catch on on what was happening, thinking “something’s off here”.

Then the kiss. Sarawat finally letting out his frustration, telling him “I want you” in the only way he figures Tine will understand at this point, after already countless songs dedicated to him.

Then the “I’m jealous, are you happy?” I really felt that. Deep down. I was so moved by that scene, I couldn’t believe it was really happening. I was so overjoyed because it was so raw and out there and real. I was grateful for that scene, I don’t know how else to express it.

Then episode 7. The best one yet. The leading up to the big confession, Tine finally realising (or yet again, so I thought back then) that he was starting to fall for Wat. Imaging things, fantasising about getting kissed again, getting jealous and doing something about it. The scene with him telling Wat they didn’t need to pretend anymore, that their fake relationship had no purpose anymore and that Wat could move on and be with who he really wanted. War’s stunned and heartbroken expression. His eyes so hurt that were like “can’t believe you actually think I want someone else” “how is it possibile you don’t understand it’s you I’ve wanted all along?” That was so intense, I felt it.

And then the kiss — again, but this time sober, Wat trying to break through Tine’s disbelief and get the message across “ I like you. I’ve liked you since the second I saw you”

That’s when the problems with the series began, in my opinion. At this point, Tine knew both that Wat wanted him and that he felt something for Wat in return. At this point, his doubts and his denial — even with his closest friend — started to sound off to me. Anyway, I told myself he needed more time and waited. We all waited for that sudden realization that would come — If it hadn’t come yet — and would push him to do something about it. We all waited but that realization never came.

Until the fight scene. Wat taking care of his wounds so sweetly and them looking into each other’s eyes like that. I literally saw Tine moving forward to kiss him, nope.

The couch scene. The couch scene was a punch to the gut, NO LESS. The missing piece, finally, i thought. This is it! Tine being flirty and asking “how do you kiss someone until they drop?” — plainly asking for a kiss that they didn’t even show and I tried to convince myself hadnt happened — because they wouldn’t do that to us, would they? I was relieved the day after when Tine kept acting like nothing had changed. And the plastering. Ugh, a kiss was so obvious there.

Even them getting together felt... plain. Honestly, building up for 10 episodes and they get together like that? Wat having to ask ONCE AGAIN and Tine needing to be convinced it’s real once again?! Then the hug - cute, but ok - he had a cast on. They move in together right away — which seems to be a trope in bl’s in general and that makes no sense to me, most especially in this case, with Tine not being comfortable at all up until two minutes before.

Episode 10 was fluff, obviously. They kept fooling us with a kiss that never came and at that point I just knew we were just never gonna get one. Because if you hint at them sleeping together before you even show them kissing and you’re GMMTV, then you’ll just never show it all.

Still, I knew drama of some sort was coming so I hoped we would get some good — meaningful — decent drama that would actually serve something. Make the couple progress in their weak spot.

But no. We get Tine getting scared of ghosts, which led to Wat confessing things Tine knew already — just in deeper details ( the whole concert thing was out of the bag since episode 7, so I don’t know what the big surprise there was, if not for us seeing Wat being whipped as shit, which, I’ll give you that, was cute as fuck.) and even after that great confession, still no affection, not even a hug, not even Tine patting his head for once. Nope.

And then episode 12. The disaster. Let aside Win’s incredible acting skills throughout the whole episode, I really see no point in making Pam the rival when we all know that 1)that’s not who she was in the novel 2) Sarawat is so in love with Tine it’s ridiculous.

Last episode was rushed, made no sense at all and didn’t solve any issue. If the point was to show Tine’s insecurities, well, they shouldn’t have let them be solved by a file of a usb drive, basically with Wat saying ONCE AGain he’s in love with Tine. Whohooo big surprise. We didn’t know that.

I don’t know what happened along the way.

I feel bad because it’s supposed to be a love story and still the roles are so unbalanced.

Tine is so passive. He never initiates anything. And it’s not just the kissing — even though I think we all agreed when two people love each other, that’s what they tend to do ?! And really, when you realise you love someone, and they’ve told you they would kiss from your hair to your shadow if you were his Boyfriend — man, what the hell happened to that?!

They messed up.

Because you know what the real drama would have been? They should have shown Sarawat needing Tine to prove his affection for once.

Maybe Wat confronting him about his constant “I’m not so sure about it” attitude.

And maybe Tine could have looked deep down himself to understand whether what he felt was actually love and not just the kind of affection that comes from receiving so much.

That was the issue of this couple.

Sarawat didn’t need to prove himself ONCE AGAIN.

And the concert ending? — man, what the hell?!

They high five?! Seriously. It’s so — it makes no sense.

And for the record, I don’t blame this on the actors, they have chemistry over the roof.

So, to end this super long post, they took something that was perfect and just — little by little — tore it apart.

That’s it, bya.

#2gether the series #2gether #sarawat x tine #gmmtv #THIS WAS SUPPOSed TO BE ABOUT THE FINALE ONLY BUT I NEEDED TO EXPLAING MYSELF #saratine

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peachy-inserts · 4 years

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KamiBaku Drabble

Pairing: Kami/Baku (Platonic)

Word Count: ~3k

Warnings: Mention of abuse

Synopsis: When Denki asked to accompany Bakugou on a day to revisit his childhood home he thought things would be all smooth sailing until he met the tree Katsuki's apples fell from.

[[MORE]]

It was typical since moving into dorms full time that students would go home on weekends to visit their parents or go to do their weekly laundry and meal pick ups. People tended to get home sick more often than anyone could have anticipated when they made the move, so it really only made sense that amongst the crowd even the toughest of them all would break down and go visit his parents at least every so often. When he mentioned going home and being absent from campus for the day, so to "count him out of their bullshit plans," Kaminari was the first to chime in asking if he could tag along for the trip. Kirishima and Midoriya had both made mention of having been to Bakugou's childhood home and meeting his parents, so to say he was jealous was greatly an understatement! How could Bakugou go as far as to have had Izuku over more recently and not him when he always insisted he couldn't stand Deku? It took a bit of begging and a back and forth argument that went on longer than anyone expected it to, but eventually the hot headed blonde caved in and huffed his cooperation.

At first it came off as maybe Katsuki would only allow the visit to be one time as he reminded Kaminari to not get too comfortable while they're there, though as the crowd dispersed to their rooms and everyone settled in for the night it was left down to just Kirishima and Denki. They sat adjacent each other in the mostly quiet room, the hum of a much too hot computer and quiet music played in the room to fill any uncharacteristic silence between them. "Man, I just don't get why Bakugou is so against me being at his house, I'm not that bad! Is he embarrassed of me?" Kaminari's tone was best characterized as slightly disappointed, through his typically playful mannerisms,a pout situated on his face as he looked at Kirishima for reassurance.

"It's nothing that deep, his mom is just a lot to handle," the shark toothed boy placed a hand on the yellow head's shoulder, "She's like Bakubro, but totally unchained. They butt heads, so it's probably more about her than you. He doesn't like to stay there too long ever."

It was enough to put Kaminari momentarily at ease, imagining what a woman half as bad as Bakugou would even be like; Not a pleasant image, he decided after he made it past the initial internal debate of whether it scared or enticed him. He thanked Kirishima for his input and shivered when the idea of female Bakugou snuck up on him again, proving it would be one of his many thoughts that haunted him in his darkest, unfocused hours. The two stayed in the same room for a while longer, extending their goodbyes for far too long before catching a glimpse at the time and finally deciding to turn in to their own dorms for real this time.

Morning light came much faster than Kaminari was ready to face it and Bakugou followed close behind to bang on Kami's door and threaten him to be downstairs or he'd leave without him. It was commonly held over Denki's head though never really acting on it as Katsuki always waited for the other, offering a scold or smack to his back at most- but nonetheless it always served as motivation for Kaminari to actually get ready instead of dilly dallying. They were both dressed and fed before leaving UA, making their normal small talk up to their arrival before noon. Denki's first impressions didn't match Kirishima's description at all- sure Bakugou's looked a ton like him and was similarly hot headed, though she seemed mostly normal, only really ever raising her voice at Katsuki for being grumpy, for instance, or not calling ahead and telling her he'd be bringing a friend. Mitsuki was kind to the yellow head and told him praises of how he at least accessorized better than her son. It was all going incredibly in Kaminari's honest opinion, though the longer they stayed Mitsuki's remarks only became more harsh and her assaults to her son less restrained.

Her compliments to Denki soon had been replaced entirely by insults towards Katsuki and swift smacks upside his head when he would raise his voice or try and defend himself. He had never had any such interactions with his own parents who would nag the hell out of him sometimes about being lazy or having a couple bad grades- it quite frankly made him a bit uncomfortable and scared to watch the tense scene. There was nothing he could do except stand by like it was a fiery train wreck in the middle of the living room until finally Mitsuki crossed a line that forced Denki to speak up. He had figured none of it was his business and he'd only make things worse if he chimed in, that there must have been something to the whole situation he was missing, but when words fell from the older woman's mouth about how Bakugou was a disappointment for not being able to save himself during the kidnapping the boy couldn't help but finally raise his voice a bit to interrupt her. "I'm sorry, Mrs.Bakugou, but the training camp wasn't his fault by any means. He actually put up a better fight than anyone else could've- he's topping our class in multiple of the subject areas and they seemed to be like villains who knew exactly what they were doing and had somehow planned every move of the attack. There was no way he could've possibly gotten out of there alone!"

Kaminari's fists were plastered to his sides, balled from anxiety in hopes he'd be able to stand his ground against the woman who went from endearing to intimidating in the matter of a half hour. He feared he would have landed himself on the attacking end of Mitsuki Bakugou by getting over emotional and yelling, though her voice came much softer than her expression, "Kaminari, was it? You're a great friend, but talk like that is what goes to his head and makes him the way he is. He's been too praised for things he doesn't deserve to be ever since he was a child and it's done nothing good for him," she had retorted, placing a hand on top of his head, forcing his eyes to the ground as if she had done it a million times in her life before, all one swift and uncombated motion. "With all due respect, I don't really think he's to blame for this behaviour," Kaminari couldn't help but to remark, only hoping she didn't catch on to what it implied, quickly continuing to give her something else to focus on, "he works hard and deserves all the validation he's received. Bakugou is incredibly strong and deserves every right to be as confident as he is. Even if he's a little rough around the edges and acts mean, that doesn't mean he should be torn down for everything." Her glare was hot and made Kaminari feel sick as his stomach nearly lurched underneath it's weight. He felt as if he could fall into a pile of dust at any moment when her gaze stayed fixed on him for a long moment like she was deciding what to do with him or how to respond. It was with that Mitsuki finally sighed and removed her hand from her son's head to leave the room. She didn't want to argue with a kid or make herself look any worse than she already did, so she was left little choice but to nod defeatedly and excuse herself.

It was needless to say Kaminari was thankful when Bakugou finally announced they were leaving, having passed the time snooping through Katsuki's childhood room as the blonde did his laundry or speaking to his father, Masato, who was uncharacteristically pleasant in comparison to his wife and son. He could easily say without a doubt that Katsuki's father was the highlight of the visit after he nearly pissed himself getting into a scuffle with Mitsuki. The woman seriously scared him and the moments he was left alone only made him think harder about how she must be when no one is around to defend Katsuki. It chilled him to the bone to consider and apparently made him shiver noticeably considering Bakugou called him out on it.

"The old hag scare ya?" He asked as he slung his bag over his shoulder, dry, folded laundry and tupperware of meals Masato made him take jostled around, "you shouldn't have even tried arguing with her all she does is get even more pissy. You're lucky you're not her kid."

"I noticed as much… I thought for sure she was gonna try to kill me," Kaminari chuckled a bit nervously, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walked alongside each other. "What I said was from the heart though, she has no business saying crazy shit like that, Bakugou. That's no way to talk to your kid!"

He didn't mean to coax Bakugou into snapping, but the loud and familiar yell was a signal he accidentally already had.

"What do you fucking know?"

"Hey, I just mean that you're strong and she was totally dismissing it. She was way harsh and said all that shit that's not true."

"I can handle it myself, Pikachu, leave it the fuck alone."

It was a bitter feeling to know it was best he just shut up and walked to the campus without another word about it. He wanted to help Katsuki and hated to see the way his mother was so blatantly cruel. Kaminari bit his tongue and lowly exhaled, keeping up pace until the large campus building was within view. Katsuki didn't make any attempts at conversation and locked himself in his dorm by the time Kaminari had finally been left alone with his recollection of the day. It killed him to see that Katsuki backed down from his mom and surrendered to her words. The few sharp smacks to the back of his head that were nothing like the far more forgiving ones from when they had first arrived that served more as a scold. Everything in the house seemed clean and perfect like there was nothing going on inside those walls short of an ideal tv family- the whole situation hurt his mind to try to wrap around if he was being honest.

Kaminari tried to stop himself multiple times over and it was a struggle to not talk about what happened, but the very next time he and Katsuki were alone the angry boy was the first to break the silence with an aggressive bark, "Don't even think about bringing up that shit from last weekend." It was written all over Kaminari's face and the kid hadn't been the same toward him since they got back from that trip.

"Bakugou, she treats you way wrong, I can't just sit here and act like it's totally normal how she hits you and so casually talks about you like a burden!"

"Everyone's parents get on their ass about fuck ups, it's not like I'm the only person with a naggy old hag breathing down their neck."

"Yeah parents get on their kid's case over little shit, but not like that- Bakugou your mom is practically abusive for lack of a better word," the yellow head crossed his arms firmly over his chest, whether to comfort and protect himself or show he would stand his ground he wasn't sure, but he instantly felt his heart sink and fingers clutch into his own shirt.

The words stung when they left Denki's mouth and he was quick to try to take them back, wishing he could just slam them back into his mouth like he never actually said them, his frantic attempt to apologize cut off with a quiet, defeated, "I know."

"I know that she is, okay?" Bakugou reiterated, raising his voice to his normal tone, "I can't do anything about it though and I asked you not to come to my house but you insisted. It's not an easy thing to look at your mom and say that she's abusive even when she is, but you don't understand what it's like." Deep down Katsuki always knew his mother didn't treat him right and what he experienced wasn't and shouldn't be normal, but it hurt even more to admit it when he was so often compared to her. People always tell him his personality is the exact match of the woman who's degraded and hit him from the day his quirk manifested. She was harsh and would say unnecessary things about how he wasn't doing this right or that enough, wasn't careful enough, wasn't nice enough, wasn't ever enough. Something about seeing the look on Kaminari's face finally let him say what he always was aware of. The yellow head seemed genuine and had never done anything but tell Bakugou what he did well and when he was being a bit too much, it didn't make sense it was all just a build up for him to catch the other weak in this moment and fuck him over. Hell the dunce face didn't have it in him to even consider it and Bakugou was well aware of that.

"Talk to me, bro, I'm here. I don't believe any of that shit she said and I definitely don't pity you. You're hella strong to put up with all that and still be as well off as you are," Kaminari rested his hand on Bakugou's shoulder and gave a squeeze, Bakugou bringing his hand to pat Denki's.

"I really don't think there's anything to talk about. You might not believe what that hag has to say, but she's right. I am weak, irresponsible, and disrespectful, it's my fault I got kidnapped, and I should've done more to fight back."

There was something in Denki that broke when Katsuki's eyes cast to the ground the same way they had earlier when Mitsuki shoved his head and he restated her words. He knew Katsuki always freaked out when the others got too affectionate with him, but he figured it was worth it this once to take the chance and pull Bakugou into a hug. He waited for the screaming or shoving, a sharp burn on his side maybe as the other popped a hole in his clothes, but there was no such reaction. Katsuki sat with his head rested on Kaminari's shoulder silently, seemingly fine until a wet patch formed in the fabric of Denki's shirt and there was a tremor in the blonde's shoulders.

He had no idea what to do and it scared him to even think that Bakugou was crying on his shoulder, body frozen in shock, afraid to touch him until he was able to come back to his senses, registering the gravity of what was happening. His arms were gentle to link behind Katsuki's back, one hand resting on the back of his head to ensure he wouldn't go anywhere. Katsuki would never say it, but he would always appreciate the silence Denki offered while he cried for the first time, that he could remember anyways, to someone else. To Denki, it showed in the way Bakugou became just a tad bit nicer after, offering Denki tag along or lending notes from the week to study.

----

Hello everyone, mod Arden here! Its been a while since i last posted, so i decided to share a little something i wrote not long ago. I never intended to post it so please be gentle with any criticism you have, this was a self comfort drabble of sorts and still is very much so to me. Thank you, i hope youre all safe during these times of rona.

#katsuki bakugo #denki kaminari #bnha #bnha scenarios #hcs #bnha hc #bnha hcs #my hero academia #bnha blog #mha blog #mod arden #tw abuse #bnha katsuki #bnha denki #bnha short fic

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retroandreal · 5 years

Text

Stay Ready (Lyris x MC)

Not going to take all the credit, but the people who I talk to through the Lovestruck Discord really allowed me to come out my comfort zone when it comes to fic writing. Tagging @official-alex-cyprin cause you’re my writing hype-friend and wedding fails hype-friend as well HAHAHA.

AN: This fic was inspired by my favourite RnB song atm “Stay Ready” by Jhene Aiko ft. Kendrick Lamar. MC and Lyris meet at the taven she works at, but things are formed through a different way; promises, time limits, emotional limits, and the limits of love.

Angst and tiny speckles of smut

Warnings; self-doubt and slight bullying due to MC’s looks

“My girl, you need to stop dozing off! Your regulars have been trying to get your attention for the past… I don’t know how long!”

I look up at Rosie as apologetically as possible “I’m sorry, I’ll get onto it, ASAP”, hoisting up my tray balanced with 7 pints of ale I head to the 5-person occupied table and greeted with an uproar of hellos and hugs. Nothing special really happens at my job as a barmaid but my regulars make it a little more bearable and upbeat.

The soft strumming of melodic stringed notes extracts my attention out my inner circle of regulars. With the tunes slowly approaching, I look back at Rosie to have a spat with the bard that was oh-so-late to the bar’s open stage night but greeted with the most beautiful sight of light pastels and flicks of precious gold metals decorating their neck, wrists, naval and hips…

“Hello, little bird… are your eyes lost?” I look up to see the enticing sight of heterochromia; jewel purple for the left eye and golden brown for the other. I stammer my response only coming up with absolutely no response at all. The beautiful being in front of me; a perfect blend of masculinity without compromising his feminine charms chuckles in an almost melodic tune similar to his harp.

“I see, well, my name is Lyris” holding out his perfectly soft looking hand despite his callouses, no doubt formed by his string instruments.

“M-MC…” I dare not look him in the eye as I fear my blushing will betray me.

“Mind if I play a few of my tunes? I see you are in need of a pick-me-up”

“Please, I ought to give the no-show bard a piece of my mind if he ever shows up”

Lyris and I go our separate ways, doing chores, serving, but unconsciously never letting my ears stray from the soft sounds coming from the musician.

~~~~~~~

After a few hours, Rosie takes her departure and leaves me to close up shop and do the final round of cleaning the tavern. Taking in a panoramic view, I drop my shoulders knowing how much work needs to be done.

“My bird, you seem disheartened. May I assist you in your final minutes?”

I look at his expensive looking drapes and cloth covering the expanse of his body.

“Ha! With clothes like that? You are no doubt from Altadellys. Tell me… what’s someone like you doing in a place like this? Nonetheless; in the Winter Wilds, barely covered and in expensive materials. Don’t tarnish your image for the likes of me”

I eye him as his pricks a loose strand of thread from his wrist, then looks me right into my eyes and instantly warming up my cheeks.

“You see… that mouth of yours is dangerous and blunt, yet adds to your charm… just like your ears”

I subconsciously reach to grab my ears, self-conscious as no one has ever called them cute.

“Besides” as he removes my hands “the quicker it will be for you to show me up to my room”

And not even 10 minutes later, Lyris has me pinned to the door of his room in a feverish lip-lock.

~~~~~~

“Come to Altadellys with me”

I blink rapidly at him almost suppressing a laugh behind my long hair.

“Frost! Don’t joke this early in the morning! I thought you were serious!” I playfully swat his shoulder, but he just looks at me, no signs of a joke in his expression.

“Wait… Are you serious?”

“My bird, why would I lie to you” he says as he kisses the tip of my nose

“Lyris, look at me, then look at you. I would never fit in there…”

“MC… I have never felt as free as I have since the start of last night. I’ve needed something like this in forever”

My mouth is now agape, trying to properly process why this beautiful being has made such a proposition to me

“I just have this feeling” he continues “You and I are meant to be”

Pondering for a bit he then looks at me like he just hit an epiphany

“How about just 24 hours? That’s all, after that you’re free to return to the Winter Wilds. How does that sound?

I take my time thinking; it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity to experience the Capital and he’s giving me an out after 24 hours… nothing could possibly go wrong, right? I sit up, facing my whole body directly to Lyris

“Ok, ok I’ll come with you”

He then scoops me up into a tight hug, almost knocking the wind out of me. Damn, he’s stronger than he looks, and I’m liking it a little too much…

“There’s no place like here, so Stay Ready my little bird”

~~~~~~

“As you already know; the capital is divided into 4, reflecting the 4 seasons” he narrates.

“Ok, lemmi guess… Spring court? A Prince?”

“Correction; I’m a spring courtesan, I have no official ties and I can mingle with whoever I want”

I bask in the words that he just said to me; a courtesan? So, like… an escort? Would make sense since he was quick to have me under him in the span of 3 hours of meeting him. Hopping out of the lustrous, floral carriage, Lyris is instantly met with the cooing and flirtatiousness of the capital’s noblemen and ladies alike. Their unbotherdness into recognizing another presence with him gob smacked me back to the heavens… until one of the equally royal looking women looks at me, scans me up and down and turns her back to me, swatting me with one of the many ruffles of her ballooned dress across my ankles. Jeez, tough crowd in Altadellys… I already want to go back.

“My lively ladies, I must depart and escort my company around our beautiful city”

Met with multiple protests, whining and dagger-like glares in my direction, I shuffle behind Lyris and he leads me away and bids a songful farewell to the slowly dissipating crowd. Hopping back into the carriage, he leans in, dangerously close to my ear and whispers;

“I promise I’ll stay only with you; you taste so good and I simply refuse to share”

Man, this person knows what to say to make me feel better. But I know I’m smarter than that, I can’t let my guard down if the rest of the citizens of the capital treat me like this. A bowl full of poisonous candy with the chance of eating the one delectable treat doesn’t outweigh the risk of me getting hurt here. My ears alone show that I don’t come from here and I’m specifically from the Winter Wilds, and don’t get me started on my freckles. Distracted by my own thoughts, I fail to notice a royal noble dressed in many shades of blue enter our carriage and cuddled up close to Lyris.

Am I jealous? I’m close enough to hear the tail end of their hushed words:

“…careful who you’re with…. scandal…. ceremony”

Now, I finally realise what I have gotten myself into; a royal mess. I have to leave Altadellys.

~~~~~

Settling down in a local tavern after nightfall, a chamber maid enthusiastically and instantly calls it upon herself to serve Lyris with the most amazing customer service known to man; making sure his bed and table are sparkling clean while she barely glances my way as I search for a garment rack to hang my oversized coat. Bunkering down in an intimate corner room, Lyris carelessly flops down on the bed and rests his chin on his hands, peering up at me.

“So, MC, how do you- “

I quickly interject placing a delicate finger over his plush lips

“I’m not staying here. I want to go back now but thank you for everything”

Quickly jolting up from his seemingly comfortable position he spreads his arms open, mouthing ‘come to me’ in a slight whisper only just loud enough for me to barely hear. Bundling up in his warm embrace, the first signs of tears threaten to fall from my eyes and he gently rocks me in his arms. I know he’s carefully thinking about his next words.

“Look at what you’ve done to me. I’ve changed because of you. It’s only going to ever be you. Please stay!”

He jerks me away from his firm torso to look me directly in the eyes. The beauty of his heterochromia acting as a tantalizing persuasion to stay with him for even just one more night. But I know my self-worth. No matter how much of a fantasy come reality this situation is, meeting Lyris and experiencing Altadellys; it isn’t enough to make me stay, not worth the snarky comments, the discrimination, the isolation, the loneliness. I know I’m better than this and I need to tell him.

“I’m a spring courtesan, you say you’re just a Winter Wilds girl, yet…” as he brushes a few stray hairs away from the side of my face, he cups my entire face, thumbs caressing my ears and expanse of my freckles on my cheeks, “you’ve brought the sun to me, I’ve never seen such light in anyone’s eyes. I brought you here so I can see them in my world, but I’ve only eclipsed them with the darkness of us nobles. My bird, what can I do to bring that light back?”

Looking down at the loose threading of the bed’s sheets, I croak out through tear-filled sobs; “All that I know is right now; nothing’s for sure. You’re not telling me something, who was that woman in the carriage with us?”

Lyris’ gaze falters, I know I’ve hit a sensitive spot. Was he forced? Does he not like her? Does she not like him? I quickly interrupt him;

“I’m guessing the truth ain’t pretty…” Sliding my hands around the nape of his neck, I place a brief, but emotion filled kiss on his lips.

“But coming from that pretty mouth, everything seems true. But even you can see, I don’t belong here. A Wilder girl and a spring courtesan… even if you spoil me with gold, I will never be able to grow. Allow myself to grow. The life in Altadellys is the life us Wilder people die to live in, but I’ve been given my life there and I’m not about to turn my back on it to live half a fantasy”

Desperate to recreate that physical intimacy from the night before; I cling to the expensive fabrics on his arms as he leads my head towards his, momentarily resting his forehead against mine before out mouths meet. For the last time.

~~~~

(Lyris’ POV)

I fear to wake.

I know she is not here.

Her warmth remains, but not her.

Broodingly making my way to my castle quarters, I head straight to my harp; the same harp that brough the Winter Wilds girl and I together for just a precious moment in time. The music flows. Notes and melodies being created as naturally as breathing in the air of spring. The lack of natural sunlight from my window mosaic tells me that nightfall has come. How long was I fiddling with my strings? But of course, with MC as my muse, time seemed to wisp away.

“I wrote a million rhymes to scrabble your star power”

A knock disrupts my train of thought.

Hortensia; “My wingless angel, it is time” muffled behind the thick oak of the door.

Placing my harp down, I think of her one more time, but not the final

“I have to stay ready, for one day to see her rise as my queen and Altadellys’ queen”

#reigning passions lyris #reigning passions #Lyris of the Spring #lovestruck lyris #lyris #lovestruck #lovestruck smut #lovestruck voltage #voltage inc #voltage games #voltage usa #voltage otome #amara x mc #lovestruck sevastian #reigning passions piama #piama of the spring #lovestruck xenia #reigning passions xenia

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junjosekaimangalover · 5 years

Text

Tomoe X Reader - The Sly Fox and his Darling Mistress

Kamisama Hajimemashita X Reader ~ * Requests Are Open * Kamisama Kiss/Kamisama Hajimemashita X Reader Tomoe X Reader - The Sly Fox and his Darling Mistress - * Smut * - * Requested By Chelsea MIchaelis ChessXArieforever * ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I don't own the Anime series Kamisama Kiss/Kamisama Hajimemashita and I don't own any of the characters from the series. I only own my writing skills and my imagination.

I am sorry for the lateness but here is your oneshot and I hope you enjoy it.

Please enjoy~~

Plus, for other readers. The person who requested this has asked me to put her username in here instead of Reader so I will put her name here, just so you guys don't get confused.

Chelsea = Reader ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It all happened so suddenly on one ordinary day like this, and something so bizarre that I would only expect it in my dreams had actually happened. It was an event that I will never forget in my entire life......and probably Tomoe won't forget it either. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 3 Days Before: Your POV: ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I was leaning my body against a chest filled with all types of stuff that the Mikage had left behind. Files, Talismans, Spellbooks, Potions, Comforters, Books, Pillows and all other kinds of stuff. The chest filled with all this stuff was stuff was huge that I almost fell in.

" W-Whoa! " I yelled out as I almost fell into the large chest but then I just fell on my butt on the ground after leaning back. I landed on a bunch of books and potion bottles and one suddenly landed on my lap.

" Ow that hurt, what's this? " I asked myself and picked up the small purple bottle with clear liquid in it. On the small purple bottle it said: " Warning: Do Not Consume Whatsoever! " and on the back were side effects listed off: " Side Effects: This potion can last up to three or four days and is very potent. Be very careful when consuming this and only use a drop and not the whole bottle. "

" Huh.....I wonder what kind of potion this is....Maybe if I go ask Tomoe he'll know! " I said while standing up and wiping the dust off of my summer kimono. I ran out of the room that I was cleaning in and into the kitchen where I could smell Tomoe cooking something really delicious. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tomoe's POV: ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I was cooking some pasta with mushrooms and chicken in it when I heard the sound of someone coming in the kitchen with me.

" Tomoe! " I jumped in surprise slightly and turned around to see my mistress Chelsea behind me with a confused/excited look on her face.

" You scared me a little Chelsea, what is it? " I asked as I turned back around to my pan with my food dish in it.

" Well, I was wondering if I could ask you something since you've been here the longest. " She asked me.

" Sure, ask away. " I replied while stirring the pasta back and forth with a spatula.

" Well, you were taken in by Mikage in your time of need correct? " She asked.

" Yes. " I replied.

" And he was what you would say a good Land God right? " She asked again.

" Yes, he was a well respected Land God. " I said while turning around and facing her after putting the lid on the pot.

" So my question is.....Since you were his familiar at the time, were you aware of everything he did with his duties and the items that accompanied along with those duties? " She finally asked. I raised an eyebrow towards Chelsea and walked over a few steps to her.

" Why are you asking me this peculiar question Chelsea? " I asked her.

" W-Well It's because I was cleaning out some of our storage and I found something that might be really dangerous and my decision on throwing it out is based on your answer so that's why I am asking. " She replied while looking into my eyes and then looking down shyly.

" Ah, so I take it that all that loud booming sounds I heard before was you cleaning our back storage. " I said with a smile.

" Y-Yes those sounds were coming from me in the backroom. I'm sorry if I worried you Tomoe. " She said while hanging her head down. I walked over to her and embraced her.

" You didn't worry me Chelsea, if you were in any real danger then I would be there for you. " I said while petting her head and she made a slight little squeal noise which I found really cute.

" I'm glad to see that I didn't worry you Tomoe. " She said while looking up at me.

" Don't worry but to answer your earlier question, I was aware of everything that the Mikage did despite his mysterious aura he had to him. I was also aware of everything he used to make the humans wishes come true. " I said.

" Oh good so let me ask, do you know what this potion is? I found it when it fell on top of me and it has a very curious label warning on it see? " Chelsea then pulled a small purple bottle with clear liquid in it from out of her kimono sleeve. I took the bottle from her hand and looked at the Warning label on it.

Warning: Do Not Consume Whatsoever!

Side Effects: This potion can last up to three or four days and is very potent. Be very careful when consuming this and only use a drop and not the whole bottle.

I read the label over and over again, it wasn't very descriptive and I had not seen this potion before.

" Hm, how curious.... " I said to myself while glancing at the bottle again.

" So you don't know what this is? " Chelsea asked me.

" No I'm afraid not but since it does seem like it is dangerous, my best advice is for you is to just toss it out because since we have no idea what this potion can do it's best that we just toss it before something bad happens. " I said while taking the purple bottle and placing it on top of the counter.

" Good idea, just wanted to see if you knew anything about it before making a decision. " Chelsea said while relaxing a bit.

" Thank you for taking me into consideration Chelsea, now how about we have our dinner? " I asked her while taking a big spoonful of the pasta dish and placing it all into a big bowl for the two of us.

" Sounds good! " Chelsea lit up and sat down waiting for her and my dish to be served on the table. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Next Afternoon: While Tomoe Is Out With Mizuki And Kurama: ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chelsea's POV: ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hum, Hum, Hum, Hum~

I was humming softly to myself as I was wiping the table clean and then making up the bed. I fluffed the blankets and pillows together when I sudden heard a loud bang from the front entrance sliding doors.

" I'm Home Chelsea...! " I looked behind me to see Mizuki and my beloved familiar Tomoe stumbling together. Tomoe was being held by Mizuki up on his shoulder.

" Oh Tomoe, Mizuki, is everything alright? " I asked worriedly by given by the state those two were in.

" Oh we're fine, we just had some sake and it seems that your beloved Tomoe had experimented with a different type of sake so here is your handful. " Mizuki handed me Tomoe who looked like he was about to collapse.

" Oh well I better take care of him so I'll see you later Mizuki. " I said as I showed Mizuki outside and closed the doors. I carried Tomoe over to my bed and layed him down on it. I flattened out my kimono after placing him on my bed and I noticed that he was stirring and was all flushed. I placed a hand on his forehead to make sure that he wasn't running a fever and he wasn't.

" I hope you're not getting sick. " I whispered and I stood up from the bed edge and was going to the kitchen to get a wet wash cloth but as I was about to walk away I was suddenly grabbed by Tomoe from behind me.

" Huh? " I looked behind me to see Tomoe's flushed face.

" Chelsea..... " Tomoe whispered my name into the shell of my ear.

" Y-Yes Tomoe? " I asked.

" You smell really nice.... " Tomoe smelled my hair and sighed in relaxation.

" T-Tomoe? Are you feeling okay? " I asked as I turned around to face him.

" I feel a little different than usual......a little hotter than usual..... " Tomoe said while loosening his kimono a little while I blushed a little as I stared at his physique.

" H-Hotter? Do you need cooler clothes to fit in Tomoe? I'll go get you some new clothes! " I said as I was about to head to the dresser and pick out some new clothes for him but I was grabbed by Tomoe.

" No, I was thinking of getting cooler and hotter in another way. " Tomoe said while grabbing my waist and sliding one of his hands down inside the slide entrance of my kimono. I blushed like crazy and was a stuttering mess.

" Tomoe, what is going on with you tonight? You're not usual this intimate with me. " I said.

" Well, how about we change that, I suddenly feel the need to have you and want you right here and right now. " Tomoe said as he started to feel around my chest.

" A-Ahh! " I moaned out loud.

" I love it when you make cute noises like that, it makes me want to ravish you even more than I already do. " Tomoe then untied my obi that was around my waist and threw it to the floor. My kimono was opened up slightly and that only seemed to entice Tomoe even more.

" Tomoe, this is so unlike you. " I said while blushing like crazy.

" To you it may seem like it is unlike me but you have no idea how I feel when I see you. When I see you smile Chelsea it lights my heart up like crazy and when I see your beautiful figure and personality just walking around the shrine it really makes my desire for you go on a rampage. " Tomoe whispered in my ear.

" Oh Tomoe! " I said his name as I was having tears of joy run down my face. I was turned around to face Tomoe and when I stared into his eyes I felt like I could just drown in them. I wrapped my arms around his neck and I leaned up to kiss him.

" Chelsea, I love you to death. " Tomoe kissed me passionately back and then he took off his obi and kimono from his body and as it fell to the floor, I sat there in awe on how handsome he looked.

" Oh my.... " I said.

" You like what you see Darling? " He asked me.

" I really do.... " I said looking away.

" Good, now it's your turn. " Tomoe suddenly removed my kimono in one swift movement and before I knew it, I was completely exposed. I blushed even harder and tried to cover my naked body but Tomoe grabbed both of my wrists and held both of them above my head.

" Don't cover your beautiful self Chelsea, I want to love you and show you how much you mean to me. I want to show you on what you do to me and prove what the beautiful goddess you are. " Tomoe started to kiss my neck and lick the shell of my earlobe. I moaned out again and felt my body starting to heat up a bit.

" Oh Tomoe.... " I said.

" Oh Chelsea.... " Tomoe then kissed my shoulder and then down to my collarbone and then down to between my breasts. In during that time my arms and hands were still being pinned up by him. He then led his hands down to run down the curves of my body and he started to kiss my stomach and that obviously led further down.

" T-Tomoe! " I yelled out.

" Yes? " Tomoe said.

" Th-This is our first time so can you be gentle with me? It's my first time....you know? " I said quietly.

0 " Of Course Chelsea, I wouldn't have our love between us like this in any other way. " Tomoe smiled gently.

" Thank You. " Tomoe then continued to cover my body with kisses and licks, I was a moaning mess and decided to experiment with something. I touched his soft fox ears and rubbed them gently.

" Ahh! " I heard Tomoe moaned out loud.

" Oh....is that a soft spot for you Tomoe? " I asked as I panted slightly.

" It....it's more of a turn on for me...... " Tomoe blushed deeply.

" Oh then what about this? " I took Tomoe's tail and rubbed it and placed it between our bodies. Tomoe blushed even more.

" Ohhh Chelsea..... " Tomoe moaned out my name.

" So I take it that your ears and tail are a very good turn on for you. " I said as I leaned in closer to bridge in the gap between us.

" Yes they are....which is why I don't let anyone but you touch me like that.... " He said to me.

" Aww well if you want, I could always do it more often. " I said slyly with a grin on my face.

" Please do Chelsea... " Tomoe grabbed my waist again and kissed me hard with so much passion again that I almost collapsed from all of his love.

We made so much love in the past three days that I wasn't able to leave bed for four days. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- After all that: After three days: ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- " Morning sweetie. " Tomoe said as he layed next to me. I opened up my eyes to only see a naked Tomoe by my side, hugging my also naked body tightly.

" Morning Tomoe.... " I whispered softly as I blushed lightly and looking away from him.

" You still blush even after all that happened in the past few days? " Tomoe asked me with a smirk.

" Well yeah, it was a LOT to take in from you. " I replied while still blushing like crazy.

" But you and I enjoyed every second of the past three days. " Tomoe said while kissing my forehead.

" Yeah I did. " I giggled softly and placed my head on his chest and rested my eyes once more.

" I love you Chelsea Victoria... " Tomoe whispered to me while closing his eyes as well.

" I love you too Tomoe....more than you will ever know. " I replied as I fell asleep again. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In Mikage And Mizuki's POV: ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- " So, you still put the potion in the new sake you gave him despite the warnings I put on the label? " Mikage asked me.

" Yeah, I know you wouldn't keep poison around so I just wanted to see what it would do and here is the result of that action. They made love to each other for THREE DAYS STRAIGHT! I don't know how Chelsea could stand that. " I said.

" Yup, I didn't think she could handle it either. " Mikage said while looking in through the doors and seeing Tomoe and Chelsea sleeping side by side each other and cuddling one another.

" So why would you have a potion like that laying around? " I asked Mikage with confusion on my mind.

" The love potion was a gift from a fertility god who I came across with in the past. I did a favor and he said that he would give that to me if me and my future partner wanted to have a child and thinking that someone might think it's a potion for luck or something like that they would obviously consume it not knowing what it truly is. That's why I put a label on it with it saying to not consume it. " Mikage explained.

" Ah, I'm glad things turned out well for them. " I said while crossing my arms together and smiling. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Well, here you go. I hope I did you proud by this oneshot that you requested. If you want to request more or want me to redo this then feel free to message me.

Off to writing more oneshots.

P.S - This is my work so please don’t steal it.

#tomoe x reader #tomoe x oc #kamisama hajimemashita #kamisama kiss #fanfiction #fanfic #romance #oneshots #imagines

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chucksbruins · 5 years

Text

author’s note: First of all I need to say the biggest thank you to everyone who took the time to read the first part, you all left so many amazingly kind messages and I was absolutely blown away! A special shoutout to @seggstars and @psychospeak-blog for being so encouraging <3 If you ever feel so inclined, I’d love to talk to you guys so feel free to drop into my asks and let me know your favorite lines and any predictions you might have for this fic!!

word count: 2.5k

warnings: drinking, swearing

Part 1

c2. Unexpected and Unprepared

I was completely and utterly exhausted as I slumped onto the now familiar barstool of Pel’s Pub. Five weeks had passed since my first visit to the small bar, whose heavy wooden door served to be a beacon of warmth against the bitter cold nights that settled in Dallas during February. Having grown up in Philly,I thought I was prepared for any sort of weather but Dallas was testing me more than I had expected. The cool nights failed to be accompanied by a familiar white dusting, leaving only barren trees and my breath in front of me with nothing to force me to appreciate the time of year.

I’d found myself frequenting Pel’s at the end of every week, finding comfort in the dim lights and murmured conversations of the other regular patrons. Pel and his wife Alice truly fit the mold of what I’d expected from the South, always greetingher with a welcoming smile and a genuine kindness expressed through long conversations over pitchers of good beer. I’d learned the two had met their sophomore year of college – Pel the school’s football kicker and Alice his quiet but feisty English TA. Pel could talk for hours about how lovely his wife was and the girl couldn’t help but always smile goofily, the warm beer-induced flush extending from her cheeks deep into her heart. It was nice, I thought, to be reminded of what true love looked like – a stark contrast to the definition of love that I had believed in for the past decade.

“You seem tired today hon’, everything alright?” Alice asked, sliding a beer across the counter to rest in front of her.

I let out a heavy sigh, “Just exhausted, I knew teaching fifth grade was going to be a hands-on job I just don’t think I realized how hands on it really was.”

That was the truth – I had wanted to be an elementary school teacher for as long as I could remember, and I knew from my years of interning in classrooms as a teaching assistant that teaching meant way more than just being a glorified babysitter, but nothing could prepare me for what it was like to have a classroom all on your own. The twenty-three kids who lined up outside my classroom door every morning were, in my unbiased opinion, just about the best group of kids a first time teacher could ask for. However, that didn’t mean they didn’t exhaust me with their endless questions and energy, and after five weeks of running after them day after day, I was ready to crawl under the covers and hide there until the only way I was setting foot back into that classroom was if our principal physically dragged her.

There were other parts of teaching that I hadn’t been prepared for either – the complete and utter lack of funding for supplies, let alone decorations meant I had squeezed every extra penny I could find into crayons, stickers, posters and wallpaper to distract from the dismal grey brick walls but the room still resembled a prison cell more than it did a welcoming classroom.

Alice chuckled, “I bet those kids just absolutely adore you, I know I would have loved for our Aiden to end up with you as his teacher – maybe then he’d have liked school a bit more!”

I smiled tiredly and let out a small laugh, “I don’t think I’ll be getting any awards for being a life-changing teacher any time soon”

“Well not with that attitude hon’! I’ll leave ya be, don’t want to sound too much like your mother, I’m sure you get enough of it as is”

I stared wide-eyed at Alice before forcing my face to normalcy, shooting the woman my best attempt at a smile and hoped she hadn’t noticed the momentary freeze, but before I could get too lost in thought I heard the barstool beside me scrape against the floor.

“A teacher, eh?”

Of course. Of freaking course he would show up tonight of all nights when my hair hadn’t been washed in two three days with my face bare and limbs thrown into a pair of leggings and old, ratty Dartmouth t-shirt. Not that I had dressed up all the other times I had dragged myself to Pel’s, but I’d at least made the effort of having showered in the last 24 hours on the off chance that the annoying brunette would make an appearance. I did try to shower daily for reasons other than maybe seeing a boy, but he was definitely at the back of my mind the couple of other times I’d considered showing up to Pel’s a little bit greasy. After five weeks and no reappearance, I figured I was safe and yet here I sat, face-to-face with the bearded not-so-stranger from my first visit to the bar.

“Fifth grade” I responded, hoping short answers would give the boy the hint that I wasn’t in the mood for his flirting tonight.

“Damn, wish I’d had you as my fifth-grade teacher, maybe I wouldn’t have dropped out in middle school if I knew I had you to make proud,” he flashed his eyebrows, shooting me a grin that was growing all too familiar for my liking – as was the feeling in my stomach that occurred every time he flashed it.

“Pretty sure you can’t drop out until high school bud, you must have been a real delinquent if they let you give up that early”

He barked out a laugh, his grin never faltering.

“I’m just kidding, wanted to see if I could get a smile out of you. You’ll be happy to know I never actually dropped out – some might have even called me a star student”

I couldn’t help myself from rolling my eyes, shooting him the most unimpressed look I could muster.

“Let me guess, you slept with all your teachers?”

“Just the hottie in the administrative office who could hack the system and change all my grades.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, a giggle escaping my lips before I could trap my lip in my teeth to stop any more laughter from escaping. He was so obviously a fuckboy it was almost comical, but I had to hand it to him for how easily it seemed to come to him. I’d encountered too many guys to count who were just straight up assholes with such an obvious disregard for the idea of respecting women, but it was clear the man standing in front of me wasn’t like that. He was just a natural smooth talker whose good looks had obviously gotten him through life judging by the expensive watch that adorned his left wrist. Maybe he was a model or something.

“So Eliza Mae, you’re a teacher, I’m guessing you went to Dartmouth which means you’re a real nerd and you like to spend your free time drinking alone in this pub – I’ve heard AA can really change your life, might want to look into it,’ he joked, his grin and gleaming eyes just begging you to get fired up.

“You always insult the girls you’re trying to sleep with?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as my mouth pulled into a smirk.

“Who said I was trying to sleep with you?”

“I’m a female, aren’t I?” I shot back, taking another sip of my beer to hide the flush that had erupted across my cheeks.

He laughed again, this stupid loud belly laugh that caused him to throw his head back before settling his eyes on me once again.

“Touché Eliza Mae, touché”

“It’s just Eliza, and it doesn’t seem fair that you know not only my first and middle name and you haven’t even bothered to tell me yours.”

He looked a little bit surprised at my comment, probably thrown by the fact that I would even care to know what his first name was after my harsh response to his attempts to chat me up.

“It’s Tyler,” he said “Tyler uh, Seguin”

“You sure? You seem a bit hesitant about the last name, sure you’re not just trying to pull a fast one on me?”

He laughed again, “Nope, I promise Eliza Mae that’s my real name, trust me if I was trying to ‘pull a fast one you’ I would not have given you that name.”

“What, are you in witness protection or something?” I asked, slightly confused.

“Witness – no, no” he said before leaning in a bit closer. “I’m a professional hockey player for the Dallas Stars,” he explained, the expression on his face making it clear he expected me to be utterly flabbergasted by this new information. While I had to admit, I definitely respected all the hard work and sacrifice that it took to get to that level, I had never been a huge hockey girl – I was much more inclined to sit in a cold football stadium than I was any hockey rink. It wasn’t that I was unimpressed with the fact that he played hockey, the news just didn’t exactly entice me to drop my pants for him right there – it wasn’t like the guy invented penicillin or anything.

“Oh, that’s cool I guess,” was all that I allowed myself to give him, smirking at how my indifference caused a look of obvious surprise to overtake his dark features.

“It’s not nearly as noble a profession as becoming a teacher, but most girls would think it was pretty impressive that I made it in the league,” he teased, his surprise replaced by his resting state of overconfidence.

“That’s the whole reason for playing though, right? The girls I mean,” I teased right back.

“The girls and the free stuff,” he cracked, his eyes playful as they met my own.

For the second time that night, my only response was to laugh as I took another swig of my beer mug, which was significantly emptier than it had been at the start of my conversation with Tyler. Before I could muster an equally witty response, he opened his mouth to speak again.

“Seriously though, teachers deserve way more credit than they get – I mean all of my school teachers deserve a medal for having to put up with me, your kids are lucky to have you. Although if you’re half as feisty with them as you are with me I bet you’ve scared them all into behaving,” he teased again and I was defenseless against the blush that threatened to creep across my cheeks. After twenty minutes of banter, the contrast of his sincerity made his words just that much more meaningful. No matter how confident they may seem or how many hours they spent shadowing, any new teacher will tell you how terrified they are of messing something up. Eliza believed so strongly in how important a good education was and the last thing I would ever want was to leave my students unprepared and set up to struggle when they moved up to middle school next year, so Tyler’s words warmed my heart – no matter how unfounded they might be.

I muttered a shy ‘thanks’ into my mug as I took another large gulp of my beer, hoping the liquid would wash down the butterflies that had crept into my stomach as a result of his words. Tyler noticed the now almost-empty mug and gestured to Pel to send down two more.

“Oh I really shouldn’t” I protested, “it’s getting pretty late so I should get going.”

The look of disappointment that flashed across his features wasn’t lost on her, although it was probably born more out of the realization he had spent thirty minutes talking to a girl and wasn’t going to get rewarded with sex than anything else.

“Here,” he gestured, “let me follow myself on my Instagram so I can follow you back” he said as he reached for my phone, but I pulled it close to my chest before he could grab it from my hands.

“I don’t have an Instagram,” I explained, shrugging my shoulders with a semi-apologetic look as he dropped his outstretched hand next to my own on the counter. Brushing the tips of his fingers over mine, his eyes darkened and his voice dropped – I recognized it as his attempt to sound sexy and while I wasn’t going to say it didn’t work, it was more amusing than anything else.

“How am I gonna get in touch with you then?” he asked, acting as if he couldn’t walk into any bar in town and instantly get laid by fifty other girls.

“Well funnily enough, Instagram isn’t the only app to exist on your phone – there’s this thing called ‘Messages’ that some people use to text and even a phone app in case you ever, god forbid, need to call somebody. But I don’t like to give out my number to strangers so I guess you’ll just have to wait until next time we see each other to convince me to hand that out”

Taking a final swig of my beer, I stood – slightly more off balance than I’d anticipated, the effect of the beer and adrenaline resulting in me being just a tad more inebriated than I’d planned on getting tonight. As I wobbled his large hand shot out to my waist, gripping through my t-shirt just above my hip bone to steady me.

“Next time, eh Eliza Mae?” he asked, his grip on my waist just barely tightening, squeezing before he dropped his hand back to rest on his knee.

Despite the tangle of flustered thoughts that flooded the lonely horny part of my brain, I forced myself to hold his gaze. Professional fuckboy or not, I was not about to let him know how much his simple touch had affected her.

‘God,’ I thought ‘get it together Eliza.’

My only response was to roll my eyes as I slung my bag over my shoulder and stepped away from him, trying to put as much distance between his hand and the burning skin above my hip.

Giving him one last smile, I strolled away from him until I was leaning against the heavy door preparing myself for the inevitable cold that awaited me outside. Giving Tyler one last look over my shoulder, I couldn’t help but smirk when I found his eyes still staring after her.

“Goodnight, Travis” I called, finally shoving open the door as I pulled the scarf tighter around my neck before stepping out into the cold.

The last thing I heard before the door slammed shut was the deep, melodic laughter that I knew belonged to only one patron of the bar – and suddenly, the warmth that filled my chest made it so that the night air didn’t seem so bitter cold anymore.

#two ghosts #tyler seguin #tyler seguin fic #tyler seguin imagine #dallas stars #dallas stars fic #dallas stars imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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wolfpawn · 5 years

Text

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 30

Chapter Summary - Danielle wakes up in a very enviable place, next to a naked Tom. Can the pair make up for lost time?

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum@nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Danielle groaned as she heard the alarm go off, she wanted nothing more than to sleep for another ten minutes, or perhaps a day. It was only when she was reaching around she groaned, not able to find her bedside locker.

“I have it.” A deep voice groaned from behind her. That shocked her, and she turned to see the speaker, only to nearly fall as she did so. “I have you.” She stared as Tom grabbed her. “You’re a tad skittish in the morning.” He smiled kindly as he pulled her back to him, this time, her chest to his. Reaching around her, he found the offending phone and tapped on the screen, silencing it. “You said you had work at seven, so I set my alarm for five, since, you know, you had fallen asleep, so we can get you showered and fed before work.”

She looked at him, still trying to process everything, her usually alert brain still not fully awake. “I…thanks.”

“You’re not very good with mornings are you?” the idea of learning something new about her making him smile almost innocently.

“I usually am, but today…” she blushed deeply.

Tom beamed at her. “Did I wear you out?” He asked playfully.

“Not funny.” She leant in, her nose brushing along his neck, looking at the freckles she had never seen on his chest, along with the few hairs, toying with them.

“You know, as much as I adore this time with you, your dallying is not a good thing, you are going to have to get up now, or flip between a good breakfast or a shower, and I would have to urge you towards the shower.”

“Well, that’s what happens when I sleep next to someone like you.” Danielle jested.

“Ouch.” Tom chuckled. “If that happens every time we are in close proximity, I am not going to complain.”

“Do I smell as much as I think I do?”

“Well, to me, you smell very enticing.” Tom grinned, wrapping an arm around her.

“You are supposed to be getting me to get ready for work, remember.”

“You were supposed to get up before my filthy brain remembered I had a beautiful naked woman next to me.” He retorted.

“No, we don’t have time.” She tried to pull away.

“Do you have to go in?”

“Yes, we discussed this before, safety officer.” She turned to get up and went to take the blanket with her.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

“And that includes the blanket, how?”

“You’ll see me naked.”

“Elle, darling, I saw you from every possible angle naked not too long ago, as well as having slept beside you naked, it is safe to say we should be comfortable in this way with each other now.”

“I can’t.”

Tom frowned. “Why not? Do you regret…”

“What, no, it’s just, you’re you, and I’m ordinary.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, I feel like I should be insulted.”

“You are a sexy movie star, I’m just a normal person.”

“You think I’m sexy?” he grinned.

“I’m not answering that right now,” she replied, going red with embarrassment.

“Well, for the record Danielle Hughes.” Tom sat up, intertwining their hands and pulling her around to look him in the eye. “I happen to think you are the sexiest woman in the world or did my eagerness last night not convince you?”

“You really think I’m…you need to get a guide dog.”

Tom erupted in laughter at her. “Not sure how you have the sense of humour you have Elle, but I love it.”

“Great, blind and mad.” She stated dramatically, causing Tom to pull her towards him again and kissing her.

“Shower, and I’ll get you breakfast.”

“You don’t have to, you must be exhausted.”

“Well, you did a lot of it, if my memory serves me correctly.”

“From the jetlag, Tom.”

“Actually, my daft brain is wide awake, much to my body’s chagrin, so I am more than happy to be assistance.” He pulled himself up, groaning as his back ached in the process. “Though next time, I rather we sleep upstairs.”

“I think I suggested it at one point, taking things upstairs.”

“I was in no position to go anywhere, you were finally on my lap, your lips against mine, your…well, there was no way I was stopping things.”

“You are a pervert, Thomas Hiddleston.”

“Guilty, use my guest shower.” He instructed, throwing on his boxers when he got them off the other sofa.

Danielle seized the opportunity to grab the blanket. “Sure, I’ll be down soon.” She promised, collecting her clothes, looking at them oddly as she did.

“Are you worried about everyone seeing you wearing the same clothes?”

“No, just not looking forward to putting on yesterday’s underwear again.”

“Go commando.”

“That doesn’t go too well for women.”

“Seriously?”

“Well not ones that had someone…” she made an odd face. “in them.”

“Speaking of which, do you…?”

“I had bloods done after leaving the paramedics and I’ve had the bar for almost three years.”

“Well, I knew you’d be clean, I just wanted to know if you’d need a trip to Lloyds or Boots before work.”

“I’m good.”

“Good.” Tom scratched his head.

“I better go get showered.”

“Towels are in the storage closet in the hallway.”

“Thanks.” She ran off to get ready.

Tom went into the kitchen and threw together what few bits he had grabbed from the shops on his way home from meeting Benedict. It was essentially breakfast bars and coffee, so he swore to stop at a shop on their way to the studios. A few minutes later, Danielle came back. “That was fast.”

“Well, you don’t have conditioner,” She shrugged, taking the coffee. “Starting me strong today.”

“I can make you tea if you’d like”

“No, you’re fine, I need this.” She inhaled deeply and sighed. “Yum.”

After a few minutes they rushed out the door, Danielle still not fed properly. There was a Tesco open not far from where the studios were, so Danielle grabbed some food inside, also grabbing clean socks and underwear while she was at it.

“Smart girl.” Tom commended as she jumped back into his Jaguar.

“Down there’s for dancing, remember” She smiled fondly.

“Yeah.” He pulled in outside the studios. “Elle?” she looked at him fearfully. “When is not too soon to see you again?” She was about to speak but he interrupted her. “I mean, I want to see you tonight, but I know that’s going too fast, I just…now that we…I don’t want to waste any more time.”

“How about a meal later, at my hotel?” she suggested. “I have a four am start tomorrow, but it means I’m actually off today at lunch since all the cast is demanding they have some rest.”

“How about I pick you up, and we get a late lunch slash early dinner, that way, you are tucked up in bed by eight to get at least some rest?”

“I’ll see you at one thirty so Mister Hiddleston, so long as that suits.” She grinned.

Tom leant over to her side of the car. “Well, Miss Hughes, until then.” He smiled, kissing her.

Slightly flushed, Danielle got out of the car and watched him reverse and pull off before turning around and walking to the studio security, showing her identification. “So the beautiful Irish girl has a suitor, I was getting worried.” The security guard commented.

“And why is that?” she asked curiously, loving the daily banter she usually had with that guard.

“Because Miss Hughes, if one such as you were to be left on the shelf, what hope is there for a grouchy fart like myself?”

“Do you know what my favourite thing about you is Josef?”

“What is that my dear?”

“Your ability to make even me smile.” She grinned before collecting her bag and walking off. “That is a talent in itself.”

“I would have thought so too, were it not for the way you looked at him.” Daniele stopped walking and turned to look at him. “I see a happy future for you both, you know how I know?” Danielle shook her head. “Because my babushka, my grandmother, she told me as a boy, that only when a man and woman truly love one another, they look equal parts elated and heartbroken, when any goodbye happens, no matter how short. Their sadness in the goodbye, but their elation in merely getting to kiss their loved one again.”

“And they say the Russians don’t know romance.” She smiled, her face slightly reddened.

“Only the American’s say that, but let us face it, what do they know of love? They divorce if their partner snores.”

“That’s true, have a nice day Josef.”

“You too, Ms Hughes.”

“Well, you look like you had a good night.” Danielle turned to see Luke Evans beside her.

“I don’t…”

“Nothing says got fucked each way to next Saturday like turning up to work in your crumpled clothes from yesterday and stinking of…” he sniffed her for a moment. “Men’s shampoo and body gel, you and Hiddles have some fun last night?”

“How?”

“I worked with Tom on High Rise, I went to premières with him, I know his products, and today, you reek of them.” He stated factually.

Danielle went puce as the actor walked off chuckling to himself.

Tom – Hey, I need to speak with you, are you at home?

Benedict – It is five to seven in the morning, why are you up?

Tom – Why are you up?

Benedict – I have a toddler, what’s your excuse?

Tom – I want to tell you in person.

Benedict – How far away are you?

Tom – Half an hour.

Benedict – I’ll have the kettle boiled.

#I Hate You I Love You #Chapter 30 #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic

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werewolfdays · 5 years

Text

snippet- Hunter Encounter

so this snippet is kinda long lmao. Jayde deals with a unique problem-

“So, Jay,” Nadya started with a coy smile, lifting her mug up to her lips for a quick sip of coffee, “Is this a date?”

I exhaled an amused breath, letting my gaze wander around the coffee shop before settling back on her with a crooked grin, “What else would it be?”

Her irresistible brown eyes reflected the string of lights hanging from the window we were seated by. “Well, you did try to pass it off as a stakeout, but now I’m not so sure.”

Nadya was only teasing to relieve the tension. It was a stakeout. I had gotten word that there was hunter activity a couple towns away from the Lodge. If that was true, then they were far too close to my home and my pack for me to be comfortable. This was a situation I needed to jump on before it got out of hand. Which was why Nadya and I had been here all morning, seated by the window with the best view of the main street of this town. I also kept an extremely close eye on the customers coming and going. Anyone here could be an enemy.

I had planned to go and check it out on my own, that would be safer, but I realized that this would be less conspicuous. Me stalking a town by myself will definitely raise red flags if there really were hunters around. But two young women enjoying coffee together? Way easier to blend in that way. It wasn’t like I was only using Nadya for cover, though. Stakeouts could take hours or even days. Why not use some of that time to enjoy being with her?

“You caught me.” I joked, crossing my arms on the table and leaning in, “I made up the hunters so I could drive you an hour and a half away for a date at a coffee shop that we definitely couldn’t have gone to in the town by the Lodge.”

Nadya leaned in too to give me a sarcastic smirk, “You’re so romantic.”

“How about I buy you a piece of pie to make up for it?” My eyes drifted over to the display cases by the counter that were filled with all types of enticing baked goods.

She raised an eyebrow in intrigue, “You really know your way to a woman’s heart.”

“I’m proud to say that I know yours very well.” I winked and got up.

Once I got to the counter, the barista smiled warmly at me. It was usually easy for me to tell if someone had a genuine or fake smile, but people in customer service were always harder to read. I was pretty impressed by that. If I had to serve idiots all damn day, I wouldn’t have the patience to keep up the happy-go-lucky act. The boy struggling with the espresso machine behind the girl taking my order didn’t seem to have that particular talent either. He grumbled profanities under his breath as he hit every visible button, but the machine only stuttered and grumbled in response.

“I’ll take a slice of the pecan pie.” My hand motioned at it through the display case while I fished out a five dollar bill from my pocket.

The girl accepted the money, that pleasant grin ever present, even when one of her other coworkers groaned loudly at the boy struggling with the espresso machine. “We could warm it up for you if you want?”

“Sure, that’d be great.” I nodded and returned back to our table.

“What’s the plan if we find hunters?” Nadya asked when I sat back down.

“Depends on how many there are.” I replied with a shrug, taking a quick swig from my mug. “If there’s only a few, then I can take care of it. If it’s a big group, then we’ll go back to the Lodge and form a plan to lead them away.”

Her expression suddenly became dark, “By ‘take care of it’, you mean…”

I took a deep breath, “Nadya, you know I can’t let hunters be this close to us.”

“I know, Jay.” Nadya gripped her cup of coffee in both hands, “And I know what these people do. I’m not arguing against it, but…”

“You don’t have to be involved.” I assured her.

She struggled to make eye contact with me, “I already am.”

I didn’t realize until then that Nadya was right. It hadn’t even crossed my mind because killing hunters was hardly anything to me other than a necessity. Every hunter life I ended was making life safer for the people I love. It was purging the world of the actual monsters. But regardless of how I felt about it, it was still taking a life. That was something that Nadya was deeply uncomfortable with. And I was making her complicit.

I shook my head at myself, looking down at the contents of my mug in guilt, “Fuck, I wasn’t thinking.” How could I have been so stupid? Why didn’t I bring Skye or Toby instead? They would make more sense, but no, I had to bring my human girlfriend along because I couldn’t stand being away from her for a day or two. Christ, how selfish could I be? “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you with me.”

“No, no,” Nadya shook her head at me, “I chose to come. I want to help keep the Lodge safe-- keep you safe. It’s just… I’m still trying to accept the other part of it.”

A very brief smile tugged at the corners of my mouth in response to her bravery and determination to protect our home, but also understood the grim reality that Nadya was coming to terms with about living this life. Half of me was shocked that it hadn’t scared her away from me yet.

“I know.” I replied softly.

“Here’s your pie.” A voice said, and I looked up to see the boy that was having issues with the espresso machine place a plate down between us, along with a couple of forks and napkins.

“Thank you.” Nadya replied, giving him a grateful smile as he nodded and walked away. Then, she looked to me, “Let’s take a break from the morality talk for some pie.” Her joke was lighthearted, and she flashed a playful look while picking up a fork to take a bite.

I laughed at her when she smiled in satisfaction. The thick, sweet scent filled my lungs, making my mouth water. “Pie beats morality every time.”

Nadya chuckled, shaking her head, but shrugged in agreement. She went for another forkful and motioned at her plate, “You want some? It’s pretty good.”

“Sure,” I went to pick up the other fork.

As soon as my fingers made contact, there was a violent burning sensation to my hand. I had already halfway picked it up, but the painful shock caused me to involuntarily drop the fork. A loud clang sounded through the small coffee shop when the metal collided with the ceramic plate and then came to rest on the surface of the wooden table. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw startled heads snap in our direction. Nadya jumped in surprise too, looking at me in confusion.

I only had a moment to understand and react. The fork was silver. It was a trap to expose me. Without a doubt, there was a hunter in this coffee shop and they were watching me very carefully. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. The encounter had to be on my terms. It was imperative that I pass this off as clumsiness. So, I shook my head in faux amusement at myself, made eye contact with Nadya, and forced myself to pick up the fork again.

Immediately, intense burning flared all over my hand like I had grabbed the fork out of a molten furnace. It took everything in me to keep a calm expression. “It’s okay,” I told Nadya quietly through clenched teeth while I speared a bite off her plate to pacify her concerned look, “The fork is silver.”

Her eyes widened, glancing down at the hand that I could barely contain a tremble in, “What are you--?”

“Relax.” I told her, carefully taking a bite and placing the fork back down. The relief I felt from not being in contact with the horrid metal anymore nearly made me sigh loudly, “What small town coffee shop has genuine silver utensils?”

I saw the thought process in Nadya’s eyes as she put it together. Her face became calm as well and she casually ate another bite. “What do we do?”

“Just finish our stuff,” I answered, subtly rubbing my stinging hand on my pants to soothe the burns, “Then we’ll take a walk and see if anyone follows us.”

“Your hand,” Nadya reached for me when I put my arm back on the table. She gently grabbed my wrist, turning it around so she could quickly glance at the burns. In order to make it look like she was flirting, she began to caress my forearm. It wasn’t all an act, I could feel the underlying effects of her genuine comfort.

I smiled and gave a dismissive shrug, “It’s fine.”

There was a flash of concern across her face and I guessed it wasn’t only for my hand. Our stakeout suddenly became real. A hunter was in this coffee shop that wanted me dead or worse, and I feared for Nadya’s safety if she got in their way. We continued on like nothing was wrong in hopes to throw them off, but there was a deep seated feeling of unease that was growing inside my chest. It was telling me that we definitely didn’t go unnoticed, nor did we completely diffuse suspicion. There were eyes on us, and it took more than a little self control not to look for them.

Once we were done, Nadya looked at me expectantly, and I nodded. We casually got up, making our way to the exit with no rush. Again, I felt those eyes on our backs, scrutinizing our every movement, making my spine prickle.

My shoulder brushed Nadya’s when I stepped closer to her, “Do not leave my side unless I tell you to.” I instructed quietly.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” She replied, reaching for my unburned hand to lace our fingers together.

Her contact gave me a boost of confidence, and I pushed the front door open with a jingle from the annoying little bell on the wall. “Let’s go around the back.”

“You don’t think they fell for it?” Nadya asked.

We rounded the corner and I led her down the alley between the coffee shop and some sort of clothing store, “Nope. I think whoever set that trap knows exactly what I am. They won’t go after you though, so if I tell you to run, you run.”

“We’ve been through this before, Jay.” Nadya scolded, “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

My jaw clenched to grind my teeth at her reply. Nadya’s resolve didn’t surprise me. In fact, I expected it. I knew I should love her for it, and a part of me did, but it still scared me like always. I’d never let go of the foolish hope that one day she would listen to me if we were ever in a bad enough situation.

“Well, do me a favor and don’t be a hero.” I cringed internally at the unintentional harshness of my words.

Nadya opened her mouth to argue at the same time that I opened mine to elaborate on my meaning, but a figure stepped in our path before the argument could start. “You’re shitting me.” I cursed dryly at the sight of the boy that was fighting with the espresso machine.

I suspected that one of the employees was a hunter, but the sight of this prick with his apron still on and gun raised in an unsteady hand wasn’t what I was expecting. “Don’t you move, mutt.” He commanded with a wavering tone.

My arm instinctually moved to shield Nadya, slowly pushing her behind me. Her hand gripped my bicep nervously, the scent of her distress already spiking. Thankfully, she didn’t fight me. Not yet at least. Once I was placed between the young hunter and Nadya, I studied my enemy.

The kid couldn’t have been older than sixteen, and the way he was holding his gun, the fear in his eyes and the tremble in his body, revealed his inexperience. This was probably the first time he was out on his own. There was very little confidence in his demeanor, which was also telling. It was obvious that no backup was coming any time soon. He probably thought he could make his dad proud if he bagged a werewolf by himself. That would be his mistake.

I scoffed, “You’re a little in over your head, kid.”

“Shut up.” He spat defiantly, gripping his pistol tighter. I could see from here that the safety was still on. Then, he addressed Nadya, “I only want the wolf. You can still leave while you can.”

“He’s right.” I agreed nonchalantly. “Why don’t you go grab us another coffee?”

Nadya’s rapidly growing anxiety filled my senses, “Jay--”

“I told you to shut up!” The boy’s voice cracked, “You’re coming with me, got it?”

My eyebrows shot up, “Well, I guess I can’t argue with the big man here.” I gently pulled out of Nadya’s grip and stepped forward without breaking eye contact with the little hunter. To his credit, he stood his ground. Though he did tense at my approach. “Why don’t we just wrap this up right now, huh? Get it over with. Pull the trigger.”

“Jayde, what are you doing?” Nadya asked tersely.

My gaze didn’t leave the boy’s. “I wanna see what the kid’s got.”

“Be careful what you wish for.” He bit back.

I raised my arms briefly before letting them fall back to my sides in boredom. “I’m waiting.”

There was a quiet pause as the air filled with a thickness of all the emotions being felt. Anxiety, hatred, anticipation. Everything around us seemed to go still while the young hunter mulled over his options. I smirked at his struggle, the look on his face not entirely dissimilar to the expression he had with the machine in the coffee shop. Then boy’s face suddenly twisted in fearful resolve, and he shut his eyes tight. His finger squeezed the trigger. Obviously nothing happened.

When his eyes opened in shock and met mine, I shrugged. “The safety.”

He frowned, turning his gun to inspect it, which gave me the opportunity to attack. My left hand shot out to grip his wrist and wrench it to the side. A pained shout echoed in the alley as the gun clattered on the ground when I squeezed his wrist hard enough to force him to let it go. My right hand swung to deliver a blow to his gut. Air was pushed out of the hunter’s lungs in a groan, but he recovered quicker than I was expecting. I saw a flash of silver in his left hand before something hard and burning connected with my jaw.

I released him and stumbled back, my hand going to the area affected. I looked up to see the silver knuckles held in his fingers. A crooked grin slowly tugged at the corner of my mouth at the new challenge presented to me. This fight finally got interesting. Maybe the little brat had some tricks up his sleeve after all.

My forearm blocked his second punch from his right hand, distracting me for the half second he needed to throw another blow with the silver knuckles. The burning caught me in the mouth, splitting my lip open and filling my mouth with the first taste of my own blood. I quickly kneed him in the gut, the force of my hit sending him back a couple paces, but he remained standing.

“That all you got?” I taunted while he was doubled over and retching.

Fury glazed over his eyes at his humiliation, and he wiped his forearm under his nose. With a lackluster roar, the hunter charged me. I let his weight throw me against the side of the brick building where he kept me pinned. The impact caused me to grunt, and he pounded his fist into my ribs over and over again as hard as he could. I started to regret dragging this out once I felt that the silver really was adding more pain to his strikes. When one of my ribs cracked, I realized I needed to do something to stop this, but my mind was going a little hazy. The silver knuckles connected with my face again, making more blood flow from my mouth and nose, running down my chin and staining my shirt as much as the boy’s hand.

“Get away from her!” Nadya’s voice awakened my senses, shaking me out of my daze.

She came up behind the hunter, grabbing him and trying desperately to pull him off of me. Unfortunately, the unwanted nuisance tore his attention away from me for a horrifying moment. He spared Nadya one angry glance before swinging his elbow back to strike her in the face. Nadya cried out, stumbling away and barely keeping her footing. I saw her hand go to hold her mouth, the first trail of crimson trickle between her fingers.

The game was over now. No more fucking around. Rage lit up my eyes and made my skin tingle. I gripped the hunter’s shoulders and whipped him down to the ground with every bit of strength I could muster. All of the air was forced out of his lungs, and I sure as hell didn’t give him the chance to recover either. I drove a right hook hard into the side of his face, feeling something crunch under it’s force, and laid into him again. I pictured him hitting Nadya, and punched him one more time for good measure.

Shockingly, the guy was still conscious. His face was pretty fucked up now, but he was still kicking. Time to finish it. I didn’t really like the fact that I had to kill a kid, but he was a hunter. Maybe not as much of a threat right now, but he’ll grow up. Who knows how many families and packs this kid will murder? How many people his family has already tortured and killed? It had to be done. I knew it. The best thing I could do was to make it quick. The question was, How? I could break his neck. Shoot him in the head. Stab him in the heart…

As I was running through the options, his eyes bore into mine. He knew he was done for. Any other hunter would be glaring at me in defiance. Or cursing me out, going off about how their family members would seek revenge against me. But he was staring up at me in pure terror. The certainty that there was no way out of this was crystal clear in his watery eyes. In this moment, I wasn’t holding a werewolf hunter at my mercy. I was holding a child.

Something about it made me hesitate. It wasn’t like I haven’t killed someone like him before. Though, to be fair, those were different circumstances. Desperate times where I was alone with no other choice. And I was more or less a child myself during that time. Hell, a few years back, I would end this little twerp without a second thought. So, why the fuck was I struggling with it now?

“Jayde,” Nadya gasped, bringing me back to earth again. Her voice sounded so close, yet a thousand miles away.

My hand wrapped around the boy’s throat in resolve. I noticed with a scowl that my palms were sweaty. It has to be done. My heart began to pound. I have to protect my pack. My head was throbbing, my skin was burning and tingling. The kid’s fear filled my lungs, nearly drowning me. I have to protect my people. I wanted to be hit again. Why can’t I do it?

“Fuck.” I growled in deep frustration, switching my grip to grab his collar roughly, “If I ever see your face again,” My words were slow and menacing as I looked directly into his blue eyes with my glowing golden ones, “I will rip your throat out. Got it?”

He stared up at me, utterly dumbfounded and distrusting. “What?”

I stood, dragging the beat-up teenager with me, “If I see you again, I will kill you.” My shove was hard enough to knock him on his ass once more, “Not all of us are monsters.” I am. Or I was. “Now, get the fuck out of my sight.”

The little hunter stared up at me like I was speaking another language. Eventually, my words finally sunk in and he scrambled up to run away, glancing back at me once more before he rounded the corner like he thought I was going to change my mind. As soon as he was gone, I turned back to Nadya. The back of her hand was pressed to her lip to stem the bleeding, but she lowered it in shock. Gazing upon me like I was a stranger. Why was everyone looking at me like that?

“You let him go…” Nadya stated in wonder.

My eyes were immediately drawn to her blood. “Shit.” I hissed.

The split in her lip didn’t look any worse than mine, but I still rushed to her side and gingerly cupped her face to get a better look at it. God, I was so stupid. If I hadn’t fucked around like an asshole, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt. In my lust for a fight, I neglected Nadya’s safety. It may as well have been me that did this to her. What is wrong with me?

I was carefully turning her head from side to side in case I missed anything when Nadya echoed her words, “You let him go.”

“I did.” I confirmed plainly. Finding no other injury on her that needed immediate attention, my hand went to her lower back to steer her out of the alleyway towards the car. “Let’s get out of here.”

Many quiet minutes passed in the car. Street sings barely even registered. The pain from my injuries was nothing but a low buzzing in the back of my head. It was almost maddeningly quiet as my decision really started to sink in. Well, it wasn’t really a decision. It was a mistake that I was almost certain would get someone killed. Being unable to kill a hunter wasn’t a feeling that I was familiar with. Hell, being unable to kill anyone wasn’t something I struggled with. I almost wanted to turn the car around. Track that boy down and force myself to do it. But I knew that even if I did, I still wouldn’t be able to follow through.

The panic and confusion slowly turned to anger. I wanted to punch the steering wheel and curse myself. People were counting on me. They trusted me to take care of this hunter. To keep our home safe. And I let the little bastard go because of, what, empathy? Hunters didn’t deserve a moral code. Why?

“Why?” Nadya echoed my thoughts.

Her befuddlement was starting to irritate me. “Did you want me to kill him?”

I saw her shake her head out of the corner of my eye. “It’s not about what I want.”

I scoffed humorlessly, “Well, you certainly want answers, don’t you?”

Nadya didn’t seem deterred by my mood, “You didn’t let him go because of me, did you?”

My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steering wheel tighter and squeezed my eyes shut for a couple seconds. “No.”

“Then what happened?”

A long sigh escaped my lungs, and I had to hold back a wince from taking in such a deep breath, “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

The words weren’t forming because I didn’t know. And it frustrated the hell out of me. What if I froze like that when someone I love is in danger? It made me feel afraid of myself. Like I was broken in an entirely different way. How many ways can I break?

“I’m sorry.” I told Nadya with a pitiful shake of my head.

“Are you apologizing for not being able to kill a teenager?” She asked in disbelief, “Because that’s not something you should be apologizing for.”

“No, it’s not that.” My arm came up to wipe my nose when I sniffled, “Well, it kind of is, but it’s not that simple. Don’t you understand how much danger I’ve put us in? I’m just pissed off at myself and confused. I’m sorry that I got you hurt.”

Nadya was quiet for a moment, “It’s not all your fault. You did tell me not to be a hero.”

“I didn’t mean it to sound the way it did.”

“I know.”

The car fell into a silence again. One that felt like it would linger until we got home, but after a while, Nadya spoke up again, “You wanna tell me what you were doing back there?” When I frowned at her, she elaborated, “I know how you fight. You were letting him hurt you.”

“Nadya,” I sighed her name, “You really want to bring this up right now?”

“Yes, because look at you.” Her voice raised ever so slightly, “That fight could’ve been over before it started, but you just… you let him hit you. I thought you were going to let him shoot you!”

“I wasn’t going to let him do any serious damage.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Nadya shouted. It wasn’t an angry shout. It was pained. “That’s not the first time you’ve done something like that.”

Just the thought of trying to explain it to her right now made my stomach flip. “Drop it.”

“I don’t want to.” She replied in that stubborn tone.

“Well, I do.” I snapped, shooting her a warning look.

Guilt made my eyes well up when I saw Nadya’s expression. I rarely ever snap at her like that. I hated it, but I was feeling too many goddamn emotions and I didn’t need her bringing up any more grief. My eyes returned to the road because I couldn’t handle looking at her anymore, and silence returned. A silence that felt more unbearable than the last. It felt like an eternity to get home. The only good thing that the eternity gave me was enough time to calm down. And to rationalize.

So, I let the hunter boy go. Even if that blows up in my face, which I was pretty sure it will eventually, I was still confident enough in my abilities to deal with the fallout. Nadya was right. I didn’t have to feel guilty about not being able to kill a child. I couldn’t imagine how she would be looking at me now if I had followed through with her witnessing it. The way she said my name when I was trying to do it made me realize that if I hadn’t stopped myself, she would’ve tried. Maybe through her shock, she was proud of me for letting him go.

I watched a bruise already forming at the corner of Nadya’s mouth while she was cleaning me up in our bathroom. Having her home and safe helped sober me up too. “I’m sorry.”

Her warm eyes glanced at mine, but I could tell she was still a little vexed with me. “You apologize a lot, you know.”

“About the fight,” I started, ignoring her comment, “It’s hard to explain, but fighting… being hit… it makes me feel good sometimes. Like I need it or something, I don’t know.”

Nadya paused at my words, slowly lowering the hand that was cleaning off the blood. “I figured it was something like that.” She said quietly.

I gave a small nod, “You don’t have to worry.”

“Jay,” She reached for my hand, lightly caressing the bruises along my knuckles with her thumb, “I know you think you need it, but there are other things that can ground you. All you’re doing is hurting yourself. Hurting others. You know how you feel when I get hurt? I feel the same thing every time I patch you up.”

“I know.” My gaze fell, “I’m sorry.”

Nadya’s finger tapped under my chin to get me to look at her. When I did, she said, “Don’t apologize. Just try to be more gentle with yourself, okay? That’s all I want for you.”

A grin gradually formed across my lips as she casually started to treat the silver burns on my hand. “You could convince anyone to do anything, you know that?”

Half a smile tugged at the uninjured corner of her mouth, “Which is why it’s my responsibility to only use it for good.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” I joked with a light chuckle. Nadya winked in response.

Once my hand was wrapped up, I set it on her waist to pull her closer while the other one lifted to rest against her cheek. “Hey,” I prompted with a stroke of my thumb.

“Hm?” She hummed, resting her forehead against mine.

“Thank you.”

I caught her smile before I shut my eyes. It made me smile too. Now that everything seemed to calm down, I got the all too familiar craving for her lips. Their softness and warmth would soothe that last bit of dread in my heart. Nadya must have been longing for the same because I felt her begin to lean in. Glad that I didn’t have to initiate, I went to eagerly meet her halfway. Our lips were just about to touch before I had a realization that made my heart freeze in panic.

The hand that was cradling her face shot down to her shoulder to stop her. “Wait.” I nearly jumped away from her.

Nadya stared at me in surprise and confusion, “What’s wrong?”

“Your lip,” I pointed out. Both of our lips were split, and even if mine wasn’t, my saliva would have still gotten into her open wound. I almost just turned Nadya into a werewolf with a kiss.

She touched her lip like she only noticed now that it was split. Then the realization of how close she came to being turned dawned on her. “Shit,” She muttered in wonder.

I was thinking the same. Frustration bubbled up in my chest again. Never did it occur to me that the hunters could take away my ability to kiss Nadya. I knew it was only for a few days or so— however long it takes for her to heal, but it still greatly annoyed me. Kissing her meant a lot to me, and the fact that they could sever that so easily made me want to punch something.

“I should’ve broken his fucking legs.” I growled under my breath.

Nadya smiled apologetically at me. “If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure you broke his jaw, so he won’t be kissing anyone for a while either.”

“It does make me feel better, thank you.”

She released an amused breath, “And there are other places to kiss. Like here.” Nadya brought up my hand to press her lips into my open palm, “And here.” She gently pecked the most noticeable bruise on my jaw, “Or here.” Her fingers brushed my skin when she moved my hair out of the way to expose my neck, planting a warm kiss to my pulse.

Each place her mouth touched was exactly what I needed. I felt all the complicated feelings I’ve been plagued with melt away at her contact. But where it replenished, it also made the urge to kiss her more unbearable to resist.

“You’re being a tease.” I warned.

She leaned back, sporting a smug expression, “Just think of it as extended foreplay.”

That made me laugh, and I had to hold my injured side for a second until the pain passed, “You’re terrible.” I said, pulling her in to kiss her temple.

“You love it.” Her eyes were bright with mischief.

I rolled my eyes dramatically and walked out of the bathroom with Nadya trailing close behind me.

#ocs #original characters #original writing #original story #werewolf #My writing #poor Jayde being a disaster #my ocs #Jayde #Nadya #Jayde pov

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