#then onto faraway wanderers

[candidsoup]

Word of Honor - I realized something in Ep. 16

I realized that there was something that they probably cropped/zoomed in on the video in order to censor.

Spoilers for episode 16...

Episode 16 on YouTube

The Scorpion King and Zhao Jing are talking, and at about about 29:44 you can see Scorpion's arms move up for a fraction of a second. Then it zooms in a tiny bit to basically just show Scorpion's head, and Zhao Jing from like the top 4th? of his torso up. At 29:45-:46 you can see part of Zhao Jing's robe move a tiny bit. Scorpion is clearly pulling on part of his robe in a playful manner and they were like, oh, uh, we can't show that..... but if you pay attention that's definitely what is happening... I got the "vibes" between them already from this interaction, which is the 2nd time they're shown together. (Ep. 15 shows them talking but with Zhao Jing purposely obscured, so you just know Scorpion has some mysterious "godfather" -- the subs on Youku say "father" but "godfather" is what it said on Netflix, I believe, and may be a better translation for English speakers to understand they are NOT related...) I was surprised that not everyone gets the relationship they have with each other, tbh. Even if it's not clear earlier on, when that metaphor of the "gambler" comes in, and Scorpion says something like "I am a gambler too"..... I mean come on. But not everyone realized it? (Based on comments on YT videos and some people's reactions I've seen) Still, I wasn't aware of this little robe pull, at least not consciously, until just now. I just love noticing those little details. Knowing how much work they put in to include things, even if they might have been censored later, is fascinating (and really special!!!) to me.

[solbaby7]

Good Enough to Eat

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: porn with little plot, the less obvious take on size-kink, swearing, minors DNI, size kink, implied pre-existing friendship with almost in a relationship/mated undertones? whatever tickles ur fancy, prolly typos

summary: Azriel never really took a notice to little things—until you.

—

If Azriel was being honest with himself, he could admit he’d gotten carried away.

He just hadn’t remembered ever noticing it before—how large his frame was in comparison to a female. Not until you came around with a body too small to put into words with five times as much fire inside to make up for it.

He'd lost count of how many times his mind had wandered to less than savory places in your presence; fixating on the strain of your neck when peering up to look him in the eye as you rambled on about your day. A low hum of distant acknowledgment rumbles through his chest, an attempt to seem like he was paying attention to the words coming of your mouth instead of fixating on the inviting plush of your lips. "Az, are you even listening to me?"

"Of course," A lie saturated in sweet honey and presented on a golden platter but you eat it up all the same, smiling up at him with a knowing look buried in your iris. "Keep going."

There's a brief pause--a hesitation where you contemplate questioning that faraway look etched in his features. You decide against it, shaking it off with a little laugh before continuing where you left off.

Azriel hangs onto every quirk of your lip, the etherial glow that emanated from your form as the midday sun bristles through thin curtains. Such glorious beauty enhanced by the abyss of black that draped enticingly over your chest, twisting and crossing at your midriff until it blended seamlessly into the flowy little skirt that teased at your thighs.

He drinks in every inch of bared skin, fingers clenching into fists of barely contained want when picturing those legs thrown over his shoulders with your body propped against any surface sturdy enough to withstand your weight and his mouth buried between your...

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

A mix of guilt and embarrassment should burn in Azriel's chest for being caught not paying attention but with his brain so lost in the clouds, the truth just seems to spill right out. "You're so cute." A blush grows at the apples of your cheeks, neck jerking forward just a little to push your hair against your face to hide but Azriel has already seen it—already grown addicted to it and yearns for more. "Like a little doll. Makes me want to carry you around everywhere and see how high I can throw you."

"I've killed men three times your size."

"Even cuter, a murderous little kitten."

Your nose scrunches, lips poking into a pout and when your arms raise to cross at your chest in defiance. Azriel nearly groans with need, mouth salivating at the thought of marking that skin with endless reminders of who you belonged to. “I’m far from feline and I’m not little.”

Azriel’s brow raises in silent challenge, his hands moving before he can second guess himself and in an instant you become weightless. The surprised cry that pulls free is instinctual when you’re thrown about, limbs grasping at open air for purchase. “I don’t know,” He muses, catching you and flipping you over his back with an annoying ease. “You feel like lightwork to me.”

To and fro he twists you about, a bright smile stamped on his mouth when your frightened shouts shift into unrestrained giggles and grabby hands for stability. “Azriel,” The syllables are broken up from your choppy breaths, cheeks red and thoughts scrambled. “Put me down.”

“Put you down? I hadn’t even noticed I picked you up to begin with.”

“Azriel,” You repeat, more urgency in your cadence when you feel the soft fabric of your skirts teasing up the smooth length of your legs. “I’m serious—my dress!”

“What a dress it is,” The calloused drag of his hand is sinful when sliding its way up the back of your leg, working the material up, up, up until the chilled breeze from the opened window hits your exposed flesh. “I’m a little more interested in whats under it though.” A low groan pulls from his chest when his golden gaze eats up the pale blue pair of sheer panties. Azriel could feel the thin grip he had on his restraint slipping until nothing was left in his grasp but the hypnotizing malleability of your ass. “Not so little down here, huh?”

You should tell him to stop.

You could easily use that training Cassian taught you to wiggle from Azriel’s hold and throw him to the ground as reparations.

But like the whore you are, your hips raise ever so slightly, urging his inquiring touch to shift a few inches further. “Not sure if I can say the same about you.”

Azriel’s low chuckle rumbles against your belly, his nose training up the exposed curve of your hip before he’s shifting you once more. It’s more careful this time—his hand placement more intentional when sliding you down his front, hooking your legs at his hips until you’re forced to meet his eye. “Are you brave enough to find out?”

Breath hitches, snippy words caught in the back of your throat as Azriel crossed this imaginary line drawn in the sand with all of these implicating touches. You swear your heart is fixing to lurch from your chest from the anticipation of it all, thighs clenching tighter around his waist and before you can restrain yourself—hips roll against the hard bulge straining against his breeches. “Guess so,” You utter back, pupils blown out and fingers starting their exploration in the softness of Azriel’s messy ebony strands.

A groan pulls from his throat, grip tightening at your waist and with two steps your back is braced up against the wall. Azriel’s movements are a little sloppy in his eagerness, fingers catching on crossed fabric but it doesn’t seize his exploration of you. Warm palms skim over the length of your stomach, slowing over the tantalizing swell of your breasts. “I think about these a lot.” Azriel confesses shamelessly, voice rough with want; the fan of his breath against such sensitive skin forcing a shiver down your spine. “Seems almost unnatural for such a little thing like you to have these less than little assets. You make it hard for me to get things done around here.”

Your brains a little foggy, clouded with pure lust and distracted by the concentration it takes to maintain the steady rock of your hips against the clothed cock between your thighs. “I’d say sorry but—Azriel.”

Dark promise is etched into every stunning feature when he slowly works a thumb over the length of your bottom lip. It must be instinctual, the way his tongue traces over his own in sync. “This mouth of yours has nearly gotten you in this same position dozens of times.” Need pools in your underthings, seeping through flimsy material and dragging deliciously against your clit with each desperate rut. You barely notice when the golden warmth of the library fades into the cool darkness of Azriel’s room.

It only adds to the lusty delirium, his scent engulfing you like a wave and finally his lips press against yours. Twin moans fill the silence, curious shadows following their masters command in easing your hair from your shoulders and sliding the straps of your dress free.

Every touch feels like puzzle pieces slotting into place.

His tongue in your mouth, your hands tangled in his hair while his shadows blocked out the rest of the world until nothing was left but Azriel and you. “Nearly dozens?” You breathlessly repeat, neck craning to offer more space for the myriad of marks he intended to place there. “What took you so long?”

Insecurity. Cowardice. A million different reasons had stopped Azriel from ever daring opening this door but now that the knob has been turned and the threshold breached—he was happily trapped; proud to be held prisoner as long as you desired. “Who cares? I’ve got you now.”

Melting into him is as easy as breathing, kisses desperate and hands heated when tugging off any offending clothing without breaking the connection.

Years of exposure to Azriel in the training ring prepares you plenty to see his bare abdomen and the densely packed muscles that’s housed there. The rest, however, has your mouth watering, teeth biting into your bottom lip when the heavy weight of his cock settles teasingly between your legs. “Is that what you want? To have me?” He doesn’t bother with words, only nodding once as his mouth is entirely too occupied learning the shape of your breasts and the noises that sound when his teeth graze at hardened peaks. “Then, please stop teasing before I handle this myself.”

Probably the wrong choice of words, even if they are harmless and fueled by errant desire.

“Handle it yourself?” A surprised noise escapes you when the position is swiftly shifted, Azriel’s back now propped against the headboard and his arms don’t even shake when bearing the brunt of your weight. “I’d love to see you try.” The smug expression he bears is slightly worrisome and yet you don’t resist when the weeping tip of his cock is rubbed against your folds, slipping between and easing inside.

“Fuckkk,” The word drags off your tongue, lids shut and lashes fluttering from the pleasure of it all—you felt so full. So unbelievably full that all you can do is whimper your praise and hope that your body was able to handle what you were going to put it through.

Azriel knew he’d gotten carried away.

You just sounded so pretty. Looked well on your way to being so perfectly ruined with your hair splayed messily down your shoulders as you struggled to take the full length of him, even with arousal dripping onto the satin sheets. “You’re squeezing me too tight,” Azriel croons soothingly, attempting to ease the tremble of your calves with the slow drag of his palms. “Gotta breathe, baby.”

It’s easier said than done and after a few seconds of trying to force your lungs to do their fucking jobs, you ditch the efforts altogether and delegate to more pressing matters.

Azriel doesn’t anticipate your determination but he falls harder when your brows furrow with the effort, a deep groan rumbling right through him when your hips go flush with his own.

You barely give yourself time to adjust, too eager after finally being granted all you’d desired. It’s almost as if there’s all the time in the world and still not enough time at all when Azriel’s sat so sturdy beneath you, his eyes raking up every inch of your body and committing it to memory. “There you go,” He praises with hands on your hips to guide the lewd movements. “Just like that, perfect girl.”

You all but preen under the worship, hypnotized by the devilish rasp he adopts and everything combined ignites a dangerous desire to please.

To give and give and give until there was nothing left but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care when the process felt so godsdamned good. “Az, I’m so close.” The coil in your gut grows unbearable, the steady rhythm you’d maintained begins to falter but Azriel’s quick to pick up where you’ve left off, hips bucking up into you over and over and over until one orgasm blends into the other. Every muscle goes pliant, curling around him like a lifeline as he takes his fill.

You can barely remember your name when his release follows, his chest glistening and hair in complete disarray when plopping down to the mattress, easing you beside him.

There’s a moment of awkward silence where you suddenly aren’t sure where to put your hands. Is this the part where you were supposed to leave?

When you can finally move your legs again, you make a move to slip from the warmth of the covers, bare toes skimming the harsh bite of hardwood floors when Azriel stops you with one hand is gently curled around your arm. The deep navy sheets are lazily covering his lower half and it’s near impossible to drag your eyes away from the sharp cut of his physique now that you know what it felt like up close. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“It’s the middle of the day, I still have so much to do—I should get going.”

“Blow it off,” It’s almost embarrassing how easily you melt into the request, sinking into the way he tugs you back into him, shadows tucking you securely under the covers. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

[suashii]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝐼𝒩𝒮𝒜𝒯𝐼𝒜𝐵𝐿𝐸

info ⭑ itoshi rin x f!reader ﾉ 1.3k wc ﾉ nsfw [all characters written 18+] ﾉ vampire!rin ﾉ blood ﾉ oral (f!receiving) ﾉ praise ﾉ petnames (darling)  

you wonder if you’ll ever get used to the feeling of fangs sinking into your flesh, if you’ll ever be able to stop the sharp inhale of air as the skin breaks and blood trickles from the fresh wound. it’s a strange sensation but the wet warmth of rin’s tongue is familiar. he chases the oozing red liquid, sucking at your ankle as though your blood is his water—and you suppose it is, given his circumstances.

despite the unusual feeling of having lips latched onto you, having a mouth drink away at you, the bliss that accompanies the act is undeniably liberating. it makes you feel light as though you're floating and fogs your head with a sort of pleasure that keeps you from thinking about anything other than the softness of rin’s lips against your leg. it’s easy for you to lose track of time and you don’t notice he’s had his fill until his tongue flicks over the two marks he left behind before pulling away.

there’s a short routine that rin follows once he’s finished, one that you can bring yourself to watch, unlike the prior process. he takes a moment for his fangs to retract and his eyes to return to their ordinary color. the red hue that overtakes his irises as he feeds fades away is traded in for the aquamarine color that you’re accustomed to. when the traces of his vampire form go dormant, rin always covers the marks with a bandage, the anklet you wear with a charm of his initial jingling as he gently sets your leg down on the bed. 

the mattress dips with his weight as he comes to hover above you, soft lips finding their way to your neck. he kisses at your pulse and up to the curve of your jaw, the clean, fresh scent of him combined with the coppery one lingering on his lips wafting up to your nostrils. the aroma is grounding and it brings you back to earth from that fuzzy faraway place in your head.

your hands raise from your sides and up to rin’s head, fingers tangling in his hair as he continues to kiss away at you. your voice comes out breathy with your question. “was i good?”

“you always are,” he mumbles against your skin, his breath tickling you. that and the praise make your lips curl up into a soft smile. rin lifts his head from the crook of your neck, greedy gaze meeting your eyes. “i’m hungry for more of you, though.”

you’re almost sure by “you” he means your blood until you feel his hands caressing your tummy and wandering down to trace over the lace of your panties. his roaming touch and the intensity behind his teal stare tell you what he’s truly eager for. “can i?”

you nod without a second thought, spreading your legs wider to allow the man access. his fingers knead the plush of your thighs as he kisses his way down your body, stopping just before reaching your sex. his lips hover over the trim of your panties, teasing breaths feeding your restlessness. he must sense your impatience or be experiencing some of his own because just a moment later lithe fingers drag the fabric down your legs and toss the garment aside.

you’re well-acquainted with the look in rin’s eyes, the sharp one that appears when he’s spotted his meal—the one he wears before he sinks his teeth into you and before he buries his head between your thighs. it makes your heart jump in your chest but you know the feeling that comes after is nothing short of promising.

the first wave of pleasure washes over you in the form of a short flick of rin’s tongue against your clit. the unexpectedness of the motion makes you jolt a bit but puts a lazy smile on your lips, nevertheless. the smile slips a few seconds later—when his tongue finds its rhythm and continuously strokes the sensitive bud—and is traded in for parted lips, labored breaths pushing past them.

rin thinks that if he could live off this, the taste of you, the sound of you, he would. you’re music to his ears and honey on his tongue and you just may be the closest to heaven he’ll ever get.

his tongue glides along your folds, the point of it teasing your entrance with each stripe he licks and it makes you whimper. the whiny noise serves as fuel to the fire that is rin's desire. it feeds his already insatiable hunger. his fingers find your thighs, nails digging into the skin as his mouth works at your cunt—lips sucking your clit and tongue sloppily making a mess of you.

the sensation sets your nerves on fire, makes your thighs squeeze around his head. there’s an apology on the tip of your tongue for trapping him there but it never makes it into the air. a pleased groan rumbles from rin’s chest and the vibrations of it draw a grasp from yours.

there are a thousand thoughts bouncing around in your skull—ones about how good he makes you feel, how you need more—but the one word you can muster up in the moment is a shaky, “rin.”

“you taste so good, darling,” he hums against you, his blue-green gaze peering up at you from between your legs. his stare feels as though it’s penetrating your soul, reading into your deepest desires—not that it would take much more than simply looking at you to know what you want most at this moment. 

him.

and rin is more than happy to oblige. for you, of course, but because he wants just as much, too. another short hum sounds before he dives back into your pussy, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit and your essence smeared messily along his chin.

the short break might as well have been an eternity to him because he laps at you with fervor, as though he’s been starved—denied the taste of you. his hunger has plagued you with one of your own—one that’s building in your belly, one that only rin can satisfy. 

“more,” you babble, a hand weaving its way through silky strands of dark hair, “‘m so close.”

rin pulls away for only a moment to nip at your thigh and give you a short answer. “as you wish, darling.”

one finger delves between your folds, sinking into you, and then another. he curls them into your sweet spot instinctively, muscles acting on their own as if the movement comes as second nature to him. like he knows your body better than you.

you’re warm and wet around his fingers as they stretch you out. your walls flutter around him, the quivering picking up when his lips latch onto your clit again, sucking at the sensitive bud as his digits work at the spot that’s sure to make you come undone.

the lewd squelching, your call of his name like a prayer—they’re a song, and rin’s favorite part is approaching. it’s the part where your desperation for relief makes itself known through the moans bordering sobs floating about the air.

“that’s it, darling,” his voice buzzes against your clit, makes your back arch and builds the slow burn between your legs. his fingers continue to pump in and out of you, his tongue flicking your pearl once more before he breathes out a string of three words—a command. “come for me.”

as though his word is law, like he’s compelled you to oblige, you do. rin watches your eyebrows knit together and your lips part, a sense of complete bliss taking over your features. your thighs tighten around his head as you ride out your orgasm, his fingers languidly bringing you down from your high.

you look past the tears sticking to your eyelashes and down to rin. your chest rises and falls as you find the air to ask him a question. “satiated?”

he licks his lips, reaching for his belt. “almost.”

hey there, sua here! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

tagging my precious flora since she asked so nicely @pussydrunkfyodor :3

[arcielee]

the sword & the salver

paring: Suguru Geto x reader summary: Prince Satoru Gojo sends his trusted general, and friend, across the kingdom to retrieve the girl who saved him when he was a boy. You loathe the idea of having your life uprooted on the whim of some faraway prince, and General Suguru Geto is determined to see through his prince's command, by whatever means. word count: 3.8k+ warnings: AFAB reader, imagine that I am placing you in a crockpot and sprinkling some seasonings on top

Chapter II ~ Sunset and Friend

You awoke from the autumn chill with morning stretching across the horizon, streaking through the velvet night with its shades of oranges and yellows, the fuchsia hues of the sun rising to help warm the earth. The general was already up and waiting for you, shadows across his sharp features and his brow furrowed as he hitched his horse, a brown mare he called Mimiko, to the buggy. 

The cart was packed with the wicker baskets filled with the wrapped bars of soap from yesterday. You pushed them aside for enough room to place two of the molds that would continue to cool on the journey, setting one on top of the other. This had been a late night effort to ease your wandering mind, the amethyst that seemed to linger, and it would now be something to finish once you arrived at the market. 

And last was your satchel, tucked next to whatever the general had packed. It was enough–a change of clothes and the mementos of your mother, her ivory comb and a crystal vial you kept filled with rose oil, as well as your father’s book, Atsumeru. Your necessities. 

Once Mimiko was harnessed, you opted to walk on one side, following along the dirt path that rose up and away from your home, following the trees that were starting to shift with the season. As the buggy jolted along, you dared to steal a look across the mare’s backside, able to see the general with how tall he was on the other side and the glint of his pommel.

You appreciated the divide the horse allowed, able to hide away until you found your courage with your tongue. The silence broke with your questions asked, with the same curiosity and same genuineness he showed you the day before. Geto answered each one thoughtfully, albeit carefully, still cradling a reservation to his chest. 

“How ever did you come across it?” You were referring to his sword, stealing another glance to watch him reach behind his shoulders and wrap his hand around the hilt, as if he was making sure it was still fastened. 

“I saw the stone glinting through the grass, and I thought it was a gemstone,” he admitted, his hand dropping back to his side while the other held onto the excess rope that was haltered around to lead Mimiko, his gentle guidance. “I only realized later that the earth was just trying to swallow her again.”

Her, you noted. “They say that it sings when you cut down your enemies.” 

Geto hummed, a hint of smile touching his lips. “I can imagine a lot of things are said over time, but I am sorry to disappoint you. She does not sing. However, I can feel her vibrate when danger is near.” 

“It is a she, then?” You were smiling in return. You could not help it. 

He nodded with the same sincerity that he carried with every step, with every action, though his mouth was still curling upwards, bold. “I found out that her name has changed over the years: siren’s breath, the dark lady. But I simply call her Nanako.” 

You teased the general. “And Nanako hums for you?” 

“Vibrates,” he corrected, looking over to catch your gaze; you felt your blood heating beneath, your hand pressing to the side of the halter on Mimiko to keep your steps steady. He lifted his other hand to show a scar that stretched across his palm, silver skin knitted together. “When I found her, she was surprisingly sharp. I later learned it is your blood that binds you, but only she decides if you may wield her or not.” 

Worthy, came the thought again. “Or not…” you mused out loud. “How fortunate for you, general. But what happens to those she decides against?”

He shrugged. “I suppose they are cursed, as legend says.” 

The ease of your conversation with the general allowed time to slip away, and soon enough you spotted the market ahead, growing larger with each step, thrumming with life. It was an endeavor started by the queen mother as a way to help the lull of trades, rotating location with the seasons and expanding regional goods to all corners of the kingdom.

You would come with your father to help sell his stock–an array of different smells on display, his encouraging mantra about cleanliness–until they were gone, and then you would walk with him as he bartered for supplies with the coin earned that day. 

After he was gone, it became your personal annual enterprise to return, to continue just as he had. 

There was a vacant stall at the end of one of the rows of vendors. Each had a small room attached, inside was a bed and a table place as a courtesy for those who traveled to attend, as well as space for whatever stock was brought along. 

Geto unbridled Mimiko before moving to start carrying in the wicker baskets. You grabbed a cloth to drape over the table out front for display, reaching to pull the canopy up to shade before you started dividing the bars by their scent. 

Passerbyers’ eyes lingered longer than their steps and you called to the general after the first basket was unpacked. He obliged to manage the front, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched your half-hearted attempt to tuck a felt pouch into the belt he had tied around his slender waist.

You found that your fingers were trembling with his close proximity and his amusement arched his brow. “It is for the silver,” you flustered, your skin aflame, recoiling and returning to the room in the back. 

You ignored his chuckle and instead looked over the last of the soap settled in the molds set on the table, solid and dyed pink from the berries. Each was wrapped with care and you set aside two before grabbing the rest to return out front. 

You were struck by the sight, by the crowd forming in front of the booth, fawning over Geto. 

He was flushed, his attention poorly split amongst the women who rallied around, the mamas and the grandmamas calling for his attention, the wives who were crimson when his eyes flickered over–all of them vying for purchase. They made bold declarations about his beauty, begging Geto to step away for a moment and meet with whatever offspring available; you gawked at the young girls who shyly watched the general from behind the spectacle. 

Your lips pursed, muting your laughter as you moved to place the newly wrapped bars on the emptying tabletop. Geto snapped his head towards you, his eyes pleading, but he remained courteous, rose tones staining his cheeks. 

“We are running low,” he called to you.

The response was immediate–the narrowed, scrupulous eyes of all the women turning to where you stood. You nodded your acknowledgement, quick to duck into the back and grab another basket. Behind, you could hear their brash comments begin again, stirring louder once you were out of sight. 

Evening came as a relief and Geto pulled down the canopy. Your eyes were wide as you looked over what was left of the inventory. “I… cannot believe how much you sold. At this rate, we might be able to leave tomorrow evening,” you looked up from the empty baskets at the general. “I would not have been able to do all this without your help.” You burned, your throat tightening. “Thank you.” 

Geto only hummed, still watching as you moved to pull out the two bars of soap you set aside from earlier. You moved to hand one to him. “I know it is not much, but I really do appreciate all your help…”

“Do I smell, my lady?” 

He was teasing you. Again. And you could not stop the smile that spread across your mouth, something that seemed so easy whenever he was near. “No,” you turned away from him, grabbing your satchel and hugging it to your chest. “I just thought… it has been a long day and they have nice bathhouses here, if you so choose to go.” 

You were quick to add, “But I am not commanding it.”

He said nothing and though you could not look at him, you felt his signature smirk scorching on your skin. “I am going to wash up now,” your words came out rushed with your exhale, and you moved to leave before he could respond. 

The streets glowed with the manmade lights flickering, leading to the bathhouse. Inside you found that the women were still tittering away about the handsome man who sold soap. They gushed about his height, his gentle tone, his sharp jawline and his silky black hair. 

You slipped off to the side, your lips curling upwards, and pulled a clean cloth to wipe away the day’s grime. You palmed droplets of rose oil to massage into the ends of your hair, helping the ivory comb through, and listened as they continued. 

“Oh my, he is so very handsome! Did you see how tall he stood?”

“His eyes took away my breath! How they shimmered in the sun!”

“He seems such a nice young man! I wonder if he has a wife…”

You tucked everything away, you mind heavy from the steam and the incessant chatter. I suppose he is rather handsome, came the thought and you quickly shook your head. You slipped away, unnoticed, back outside for a brisk walk under the sliver of silver, the stars bright above; the chill returned, sharp with the cover of night.

As you retraced your steps, your blood surfaced to warm your skin–surely not because of the repeated, intrusive thought that rattled inside your head: “Oh my, he is so very handsome!”

The amber pooled beneath the door and you opened without thought to find the general. You blinked, watching his defined backside that was decorated with the silver scars of  past battles. His arms were lifted, using a cloth to dry his hair, the black satin spilling and sticking to his broad shoulders.

Geto turned towards you and your eyes watched the gooseflesh that rippled across his chest and shoulders, tracing down to his slacks that hung low on his hips, to the lines that cut into his trimmed waist

Oh my. He is so very handsome.

You balked in the doorway and he moved at once to pull on a clean tunic, though it was untied and still graciously showed off the smooth planes of his chest. “I–forgive me, I should have knocked. I did not think–” you prattled, your mind white, your instincts jarring to command your body to leave again. 

He caught your wrist, his touch still strong, still careful, and your skin prickled from his hold. Geto paused, gathering his thoughts. “Thank you for the soap,” he chose to say, his cheeks stained red as his eyes flitted back and forth to try and hold your own bashful gaze. “You can sleep here. I can leave and stand post tonight–” 

“You should stay.”

You burned from how his eyes bore through you, but you could not stop your tongue from forming the words or dam your lips to keep them from spilling. “I noticed it is rather cold tonight, and there is nothing, anything, we need to guard while in this village.” 

Geto watched you, deciphering your intention as you continued to ramble on. “I am certain you must be tired, and I am sure you have shared quarters whenever you were out doing, uh, whatever things are required from a general…”

His returned smirk had you wishing the earth would swallow you whole. “I have shared quarters before,” his voice low, careful. “If you are comfortable with it, I will stay.” 

“Of course, why else would I suggest it?” You nearly spat, pulling away from him to seat yourself on the mattress. Your nerves were rattling your bones as you emptied your satchel on top, only to pack it once again, your hands busy, your eyes avoiding.

Geto said nothing. You could hear him rummage, pulling out a thin blanket and furs unfurled that he placed on top of the bed before he nested beneath. You set your satchel aside, balling your fists to stop how they trembled. The general remained quiet, only lifting the layers to cover you as you moved to his side.

Silence settled over. A heat permeated from him as you waited, your droning mind soothed by his steady breath, the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.

When you were certain he was asleep, you dared to move even closer to steal his warmth. You could smell the honeysuckle and tea tree oil from the soap, and how it complemented his skin. 

You took a breath and curled against his side. 

+ + + +

You could not remember the last time you had slept so well. There were no dreams, good or bad, just a calming comfort that had enveloped you.

The morning sun was already spilling through the window, but it was the murmuring market outside that pulled you awake. Your eyes widened with the realization that your head was on his chest and your arm was draped across, your hand resting on his hip. A small noise caught in the back of your throat, every muscle tensing to control your slow movements to unknot yourself from the general.  

You pulled away, sitting upright with a stretch, a yawn of relief, and only then did Geto stir, his eyes opening to find and focus onto you. “Good morning,” his voice cracked, a sleepy smile on his lips. 

“The public awaits you,” you tried to tease him, your head turning away with the shyness that was creeping back into your bones. 

The market was waking up and the patrons were posted out front, waiting. Geto pushed to sit up, his black hair mussed. “So it seems.” 

Today you saw an unexpected kindness from the general with how he was now managing the storefront. He was still courteous, always, but there was something almost enigmatic with how his eyes shone bright with each interaction. He offered a smile, but you noticed it seemed practiced and did not reach his eyes. 

Your stock was gone by the afternoon, leaving you awestruck with the sight. You palmed the felt pouch that was brimming with silver, incredulous at the amount. “This has not happened before,” you admitted to Geto, sheepish. He was pulling down the canopy to close shop, ignoring the sad sounds that echoed on the other side. “In all the years I have been coming here and this…” you trailed off, your eyes counting the coins. 

“It is a smart idea. It was bound to catch on.”

You looked up at Geto and he smiled, but this time, you swore that it glittered in his eyes. 

“I assume this means we can return to the capital.” He continued, his eyebrow arched. “Without biting?”

Oh. It was dawning, pulsing hotly through you, remembering the true reason for why he had been helping you. Your eyes fell back to the pouch balanced in both of your hands. “Oh, yes. Of course we can go, I mean, after we return the cart back home–” 

“Of course.”

“...but,” you continued to pull for something, for anything. “I would like to treat you to a meal before we leave.” 

There was a tavern renowned for its fresh baked bread and savory stew, simmered with salted meat and thick cut vegetables. You asked for a pint each, clinking your tankard to his own, your own smile feeling forced. “Thank you, general. Because of your help, I have enough to budget for the upcoming year. I even plan on looking to see what the capital has to offer for supplies.” 

He watched you, his same perusal gaze, his cheeks now rosy from the ale. “You truly do not mean to stay?”

“For what reason?” You tore another piece of the bread, soaking it in the broth. 

Geto hemmed for the right words. “You could have the power that comes with the crown to help people.”

You bit down, a thorough chew while you shook your head, collecting your thoughts. “That power has a different obligation. Prince Gojo holds that power because of the blood in his veins, whereas I would be little more than a gilded decoration in silk and jewels at his side.” This was how it was, you knew this. “Besides, there would be a showmanship expected of me… and I do not want that.”

His contemplation was glimmering with the amethyst of his eyes, shining beneath the dark lashes that framed them. “What do you want?”

You took another sip and swallowed to clear your throat. “I want to keep my freedom that has been created in the north. I want to continue my father’s practice. And I will not marry the prince–” you were rambling, but you felt the need to repeat this, urged on by his steady gaze, “–I have no wish to forfeit my life just so I may wear a crown of pretending power.” 

Geto was unreadable. Perhaps there was the possibility of emotions, but it seemed tightly wound and tucked away, hidden beneath his smirk. “Your independence is not worth the crown?” 

“My independence is invaluable.” You retorted, giggling, the ale warming your blood. 

The sun was tucking away when you finally left after checking over the other vendors and purchasing some herbs that you hung in the back of the buggy. Mimiko trotted gaily between you both, her load much lighter now, and you found you could fall back into the ease of conversation with Geto, an effortless flow that continued until the stars showed in the darkening sky above. 

He asked you about the leather-bound book you had with you, his continued curiosity to understand you. “I did not know you could read,” he said, and you knew it was not condescending but his genuine awe of your secrets unearthed. 

To be fair, education was more of a novelty for commoners, but you still chose to tease him. “That I do, general, as my father could not afford me the luxury to wait around with the hope that a prince I saved would return one day with the intention to wed me.” 

He surprised you with a snicker and your head was quick to look, your heart fluttering against your ribs at the sound. Geto wiped it away when he saw you looking, his face flushing. “You do not need to always use my title,” his tone changed, but still he remained guarded, cautious as always. “You may call me by my name.” A pause. “If you want to.” 

It was your turn to grow warm, your blood thickening beneath your skin. “Oh, very well,” you tried for flippancy, but your voice was strained as you tried out his name. “Suguru.” 

He was pleased and offered you another smile that shuddered through you. Suguru seemed reluctant to pull his eyes away, but he looked back to the front and yours followed. You saw an amber glow that stained the tree lines ahead and your skin prickled with the white smoke rising thick, blending to smear across the night sky. “Suguru…?” 

“I see it.” His voice was low, his concern knitted between his brows. “There must be a fire somewhere.”

The familiar path continued up the knoll that overlooked the river, leading home, and the smoke grew dense. At the peak, your stomach dropped as every emotion worked to petrify your organs; below you saw the reds and yellows of flames licking upwards, a hotness that was scalding, consuming the blackened skeletal remains of your home, swaying as it burned.

Reason was fleeting, lifting away with the smoke. “No–!” You tried to rush forward, propelled by a burst of hysteria that was running as hot as the fire. Suguru lurched and caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist, but you fought back, your desperation cracking your voice. “Let me go! I have to stop it! I must–”

His voice roared above the wood that cracked and splintered, your name echoing in the trees that were wilting with the heat. “It is too late! You will only get yourself killed!”

It was enough and reason returned, a bittersweet taste in your mouth. You stopped fighting him, but your body was shaking with the adrenaline still searing in your veins; rivulets of tears poured down your face and mixed with the ash in the air. 

“Suguru,” you were shattered, broken. “My home.”

“I know.” He softened, pulling you back. Your face tucked into his chest with a muffled sob and he was careful to turn you away from the sight of the fire. His voice was soft and soothing in your ear, repeating: “I know, I know.” 

Suguru held you as your body wracked with grief; his large hand rubbed your back, the pressure grounding you as your sorrow poured, hot and aching. You cried until you were raw from your tears and from the smoke, until you had nothing but small hiccups as you regained your breath.

Only then did he guide you back towards Mimiko, who shifted and neighed her concern. He took your hand and wrapped it around the halter before slipping away. You were rooted, staring into nothing as your mind tried to grasp, to make sense that you could never again go home; it twinged, sharp with the onholding heat. 

A hand touched your shoulder and you looked up to see Suguru. His posture was tense, uncertain, a heartbeat of silence as he tried to find the words before he gestured for you to follow. Your steps were numb, stumbling after, and he wrapped his arm around your waist to guide you further away, Mimiko in tow. 

There was a camp settled in an arbor of trees further downwind of the river, away from the destruction, though you could still see the smoke lift and dissipate above. The blanket and furs from before were placed by a small fire that smoldered, a softer echo, carefully contained within rocks placed and wet sand that bordered around. 

He was gentle to cradle your face, a damp cloth wiping you clean, and he pulled you towards the bed he had made, pulling you onto his chest once again, the hint of honeysuckle now smothered with smoke. 

“We are far enough from it.” He meant to comfort you, but you choked on another soft sob. “You are safe here.”

With his last words whispered, you held onto him like a lifeline, new tears flowing softer than before. Suguru would not let go, his hands touching your hair and your back, soothing but respectful, until it pulled you into a dreamless sleep.

taglist: @sugurubabe @alwaysfreakingout @paprikaquinn @yeehawbrothers

arcie's navi | jjk masterlist the salver & the sword masterlist

[catsuro]

put a ring on it || rin itoshi

“no, i’m not letting you go out there,” 

itoshi rin grabs your wrist in an attempt to pull you to his side but you pout, slipping from his grasp once more. the entire night he’s been like this: following after you, heart dropping every time you pull away just for it to soar again when you look his way with a teasing smile afterwards. he chuckles at the thought; it’s reminiscent of the way he pined for you all those years ago before you were his. before he was yours. you’d have noticed the way his eyes linger on you, pupils blown out and filled with adoration if you weren’t such a goddamn lightweight. 

“but rin, it’s single ladies! ‘s my favourite, you know that!” 

rin tucks your hair behind your ears. “i know that, but you’re not a single lady.” he tries to reason. 

“mmm yeah, i guess not…” a dreamy faraway look makes its way onto your face as your mind wanders to the heartthrob of a man you’ve been dating for 2 years, completely unaware that said man is standing right in front of you with a deadpan look on his face. he thinks he’s won you over before your brows furrow and a pout pulls your lips downwards again.

“but i still wanna dance…” you interlock your fingers with rin’s as you look up into his eyes. you can never get tired of the intensity of his gaze; even after two years, the bright teal peeking under dark, heavy lashes still make you pause in your tracks. rin was always so, so handsome. unfairly so. 

“just this one song, kay? then we can go home and do anything you’d like.” with a doe-eyed look, your pinky slowly curls around his and rin sighs. 

what a minx, he thinks. he still remembers the first time you linked pinkies with him, when the two of you were walking under street lamps after you waited for him to finish practice. it was you that waited for him as he navigated through his own feelings at 19, not quite ready and still unsure of what to do. then on that fateful night the side of your hand brushed his, once, twice, and before he knew it, rin trailed after your touch after being deprived of it all his life. 

now here you are, still loving him despite everything. 

rin ruffles your hair. “yeah, yeah. now shoo,” 

you raised your fist in victory before making your way to the dance floor, but not without turning your head to poke your tongue out at him. and rin mouths a ‘lukewarm’ back as if you aren’t the only thing that matters to him in this party– the only thing capable of making him feel. with hands in his pocket and back leaning against the counter, rin stays to himself, entertained by the sight of you dancing your heart out. and when your favourite part comes on, your eyes search for him over the crowd, 

“if you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it, 

don’t be mad once you see that he want it” 

rin nods as you sing the lyrics to him. he thinks you look the prettiest when you’re carefree like this, when you know that he’s there to protect you so you can feel safe.

“if you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it, oh, oh oh,” 

his lips curved to form a small smile, mind drifting to the velvet box he’s skillfully hid on the top of his cupboard. oh, you have no idea. 

rin is like. the most attractive boy in blue lock easily🥱

[fungus-no69]

School LIs x Pc/Reader (x Ivory Wraith)

You/your pronouns for pc, they/them pronouns for LIs, pc is mentioned to be uncanny and strange looking in general, pc is POSSESSED!!! by the IVORY WRAITH!!!!! attempted harassment by Whitney (it fails), burns in Sydney's, mentions of Kylar's parents (maybe spoilery???)

You're never really... here. Always a bit dazed with a faraway look in your eye, yet an alertness to you that means it can't just be disassociation or anything like that.

They see you talking to the mirror a lot, or if not, looking into alleys like you're supposed to be seeing something other than the knocked over bins and occasional stray. Even at the lake in the forest, you're crouched at the edge of it as water licks at your shoes. Sometimes, the shadows seem to warp around you or maybe, your eyes are just a bit too wide to be normal. Something about the way your knuckles jut out too far or even the way that your lip movements don't completely match up with what you're saying.

Sometimes they see you wandering around the street, like a puppet. Clumsy and artificial. If anyone did see your face in those times they'd comment on the vibrant, unnatural blue of your eyes. Or how your skin seems to lose any warmth in its undertones, or maybe the way that you hum to yourself- pressing a hand to your chest and holding onto your pyjama shirt.

Robin

They're incredibly concerned that they hadn't noticed before they woke up to seeing you climb out of your window???

Even when you disappear and only appear after a whole day- looking even more out of it than usual and covered in water and some... other sort of substance that Robin just doesn't want to think too hard about

They just assume that's another weird thing you do along with the... everything else.

Look they had reason to believe it's just normal 'you' behaviour okay!

They check on you each blood moon from then on, even offering for you to stay in their room at the end of each month.

If they see you trying to leave out of the window again they may panic and grab you- looking at your face and being chilled by your hollow expression, a smile that makes them uneasy crawling up your face as a voice that's not yours repeats their name

"Robin Robin Robin Robin"

'You' slip out of their grasp before they can react- disappearing behind the windowsill. They probably almost scream before seeing you're fine at the bottom.

They can't help you before you're gone, you'll probably return in the morning anyway.

Whitney

This bitch ass motherfucker was probably skulking around the alleyways when they saw you staggering towards Nightingale street

They popped up behind you and grabbed your shoulders- hoping to make you squeal.

You didn't.

Simply continued walking.

Whitney just shrugged it off after a second of sulking, adding it to their internal list of your oddities (No they don't think of you often shut up)

They keep following you, teasing, mocking, sexual innuendos- you name it.

They pause when they see you take a beeline into the forest because what the fuck? No one except for tourists and people with a death wish go there (especially on a blood moon)

They're not superstitious per se but everyone and their fucking grandmother knows that what you're doing is a bad idea.

They grab your elbow and finally get a good look at your face, blank expression with unfocused blue eyes that look out of place on you.

For a moment they think they've been following the wrong person around. But that's impossible because they know what their slut looks like!

They open their mouth, probably to insult you or make a comment but nothing comes out when you start repeating their name with a manic grin.

They stumble when you wrench away, breaking into a sprint into the underbrush.

They go to follow you but you're already gone.

Sydney

They instinctively know something's wrong when they wake up to you shambling out of the temple's pews

They know you're strange, that something's wrong with you on a good day! But this is a whole new level.

Even as goosebumps raise on the nape of their neck, something about you seems familiar. A lingering sense of deja vu keeping them from moving.

They manage to stand up after a minute, limbs feeling heavier with each step they make towards you. Even if they tried, they wouldn't be able to sleep now. The air is stifling and wrong.

You shriek when their necklace brushes your skin as they lean closer, it leaves a torrefied blue mark where it made contact.

Yeah no. That is not normal.

Even without their necklace scalding you, your scream leaves their ears ringing and their head pounding with agony. They can't hear themself over the sound of their heartbeat, bile rises in their throat and they can't process anything but the feeling of hands so cold they burn and the image of cobalt that sears itself into their mind no matter where they look or how hard they squeeze their eyes closed.

They must have been making some kind of noise though, because when they come to- they're kneeling on the floor in between pews with Jordan's hands on their shoulders and you're nowhere to be seen.

Kylar

They were already following you as soon as they realised that you seemed even more off than usual

Somewhat similar to their parents before they became... whatever they are now.

They don't want you to end up like that! So they fight their body's urge to flee and appear at your elbow- you don't flinch, as per usual.

They hope their presence soothes you, it doesn't. You don't look as bad as they were imagining but their skin is becoming clammy just by being around you. And not in the normal way either!

They start to blabber to you, hoping to get your attention but you don't even spare them a glance! Now you're starting to freak them out.

They try to look at you properly, closer. They don't like what they see.

Blue eyes fixed in front of you, pallid cheeks, blue lips. Your eyes flick down for less than a second before a grin curls onto your lips and you grab them, calling their name

They love it when you say their name but not like that! Not when your voice echoes in their ears and makes their mouth go dry.

As much as their nails dig into your arms and they grasp as hard as they can, you manage to slip away- like their hands just... phased through somehow.

As much as they want to- need to chase you, their feet are rooted to the floor like something's holding them there. They can't do anything but watch as you depart into the forest.

They know that something was wrong! You wouldn't run away from them right? Yeah! That must be it! Something's taken control of you somehow!

They're not sure which idea makes their stomach churn more.

[kometqh]

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓓𝓲𝓪𝓻𝔂..

Captain Rex x F!Reader x Fives

Pt. 2 Every night, without fail, you wake up crying, heaving as you realise the monsters of your nightmares have been long left behind on the battlefields you fought on alongside your beloved Clone Troopers, the 501st Legion. Every night, without fail, you note down all your thoughts and feelings onto paper, into your beloved Diary that your Jedi Master has given to you as a gift. What happens when the Captain and Trooper of the 501st get their hands on your prized possession? Word Count: 2845 Warnings: Very much unedited, most definitely not lore-accurate as I have just begun to watch Clone Wars. A/N: A spur-of-the-moment kind of fic, it will be a two parter story :) It does say Female reader as that is what I had in mind, however there are no pronouns or descriptions used that allude to the reader being female!

Your body shot straight up, sweat rolling down the side of your temple, shoulders heaving up and down rapidly through heavy breaths. You wearily scanned the area, the room you found yourself in, your bedroom, hidden under a blanketed darkness. You could vaguely make out the different shapes of objects in your room; the steel wardrobe, the desk seated in a faraway corner, the tall frame of the door. The small line of light that peaked through provided some comfort, some more visibly.

A shaky hand reached for the night light beside your temporary bed - a silver steel, upright lamp that provided a bright, white light. It didn't provide much comfort as hard white light flooded the room, but it was enough to convince you that the terrors in your dreams weren't physically present in your waking days. 

Heaving a slow, heavy sigh, you slid back down into the pale comfort of your sheets, hugging a pillow to your body. 

As you laid there, light still on, eyes shut, you were engulfed in the sound of deafening silence. You could almost hear the light buzzing of the mechanical structures of the ship, ringing in your ears. 

You sighed again, turning your body to face the door. The light from the outside tickled at your eyelids, forcing them to flutter open. With a groan, you shoved your nose deeper into the soft material of your pillow, beginning to count down, hoping that, the mental image of numerous General's jumping up and down like innocent sheep, would lull you back to sleep soon enough.

Mini Skywalker's, Plo Koon's and Obi Wan Kenobi's cluttered your mind, hopping over a tall fence as you silently counted, 'One.. Two.. Three' and so on. It was definitely interesting image to think of, but in the meantime, it did little to stop your body from tossing and turning, heaving and sighing, twisting in your sheets.

With another, heavy sigh, you reached into your bedside draw, pulling out a small notebook and pen. You flipped it to the most recent page, jotting down the date and time, a small curse leaving your lips as you noticed the time; 01:25. 

You were going to become a zombie at this rate.

Nethertheless, you began spilling words onto the page, the crease between your brows easing as time passed, the fast pace of your heartbeat steadying with each word that slipped past the boundaries of your mind.

By the time sleep had finally pulled you into it's clutches, your mind could tell the ship was leaving hyperspace, and approaching a new atmosphere, your diary and pen abandoned at your side, left open on the most recent page yet again.

You awoke when the ship had landed; merely five hours later. The metal hit the ground with a thud, successfully forcing your eyes open. You laid there for a long while, ears twitching as you listened to the distant sounds of clone troopers wandering the hallways, accompanied by loud chatter and laughter. 

Those moments, those peaceful moments, where your men could take a moment to relax and unravel were your favourite. You fought hard to keep every single one alive, the guilt chipping away at your sturdy resolve, discipline and beliefs in the Jedi rules. 

You had broken one of the most important rules from the very beginning; it was forbidden to form attachments. How could you abide by such a cruel rule, when you were stationed with the same men for the last three years, getting to know them, living with them, laughing and sharing meals? To you, such a rule shouldn't exist. You could tell many other Jedi also disagreed with it - Anakin Skywalker being one amongst many. Even Obi Wan Kenobi, whose rebellious personality did very little to hide his affections for a certain Mandalorian Senator..

Taking in a deep breath, you slowly opened your eyes, looking around the room. 

A warm glow peaked through the tightly shut curtains, warming your skin in a gentle embrace. Even though your eyes burned with exhaustion, you had willed yourself to get up. It was already 07:00, your men were definitely up and ready for their mission briefing. 

Though they'd have to wait a little longer, you supposed.

This was meant to be an easy, diplomatic mission centred around a Neutral planet. You and your troops, the 501st, would be ensuring the citizens' safety, and potentially discussing joining the Democratic Republic. 

After spending some time getting ready, you left your quarters, silently stalking through the hallways, a distant rumble of the canteen ringing in your ears. The closer you got, the more shouts and lively conversations you could hear. 

All of those men shared the same exact voice, but the small differences in speech patterns, accents, tone and volume, were enough for you to be able to distinguish between your squadron without even seeing any of their faces.

Tugging your robes closer to your body, you entered the canteen, heading straight for the food buffet. It was going to be a simple mission - grab some toast, some water, and escape before anyone could notice you. 

And simple it would of been, if it wasn't for a certain Captain's sharp eyes and enhanced instincts; as if an alarm went off in his head anytime you appeared within his vicinity. 

In no time, you felt his warm breath fan over the back of your neck, his chest close enough for you to feel the coolness radiating off his body armour.

"Good morning, Captain." You spoke softly, a hint of tiredness still laced within your voice as you blinked slowly, placing a piece of toast on your tray.

"G'morning General," His voice came out a rolling, warm rumble, directly by your ear as Rex leaned over you, "What are you having for breakfast?" He asked, his honey-brown eyes scanning over your food tray. 

"Nuffin special, Captain, just a plain toast and water, how 'bout you?" You asked, moving away from the queue and to an empty table. You looked to Rex, noticing the corners of his lips tugging upwards, the sight warming your closed-off heart. You desperately wanted to cradle the side of his face in your palm, to soothe over the lines that wedged themselves between his eyebrows, noticing his exhaustion still showing even after a decent night's sleep.

"I've already had my breakfast with Fives and Echo, woke up quite early actually." He spoke softly, a chuckle escaping his lips as his palm rested on the small of your back, leading you to your seat.

Confusion took over your body as you sat down, bringing the toast up to your lips, taking a bite. "So, why are you here then, Captain?" You asked through a mouthful, eyeing him up and down, confusion clear as day across your face. 

At that, his face hardened into one he wore often during meetings and battles, an uncertain heaviness clouding his eyes. His fists clenched atop his lap, his lips pulling into a thin line. He wished to discuss the mission with you; hoping to lessen the number of men needed. Though he wasn't sure how willing you'd be to give your men a small vacation, he still wanted to attempt to provide his brothers with some respite. 

What kind of Captain would he be if he didn't consider his soldiers' health?

"Actually- I wanted to discuss the mission with you, General," He paused, breaking eye contact as his gaze dropped to his lap, then scaled back up to focus on the ice-blue, steel table separating the two of you, "I was thinking-"

"Thinking too much isn't good for you Rex, you've got enough lines on your forehead already." You joked, interrupting the clearly tense Captain. As you eyed him up and down with a soft smile, his shoulders visibly relaxed, the thin line his lips had become turning into the softest of smiles, his cheeks puffing up into marshmallows over the stretch. 

"W-Well, I was wondering if you could allow my men to take this time to rest." He stated, his voice dropping to a low rumble as he eyed you from underneath a curtain of lashes. He was using his best puppy eyes, knowing very well what effect those had on you.

You blinked once, then twice, your eyes widening owlishly as you stared at Rex.

Was he.. Trying to woo you?

You sat just the smallest bit straighter, your shoulders stiffening as you begged the Maker for Rex to not pick up on the sudden stiffiness that clutched onto your body with a steel grip.

Why was he making things so much harder for you?

"R-Rex.. I'm not sure I-" You started, your stomach dropping as he released a defeated sigh.

"I know General, I know.. It's just that, after the last mission, we're all still quite exhausted." He spoke, his gaze unwavering as he leaned closer to you, his scent invading your nostrils. He smelled of the Canteen's breakfast, a faint scent of aftershave lingering over him. Had he shaved already? You never got to see more than a hint of stubble on his jaw and chin, before it was gone with the wind; like it never even existed.

That's why you were grateful for Fives; that man's goatee could never disappoint. You were sure a beard of some sorts would suit Rex so well - it wasn't too difficult to imagine with his brother around, serving as an example. 

What would it feel like to feel the short hairs underneath your fingers? To feel the smooth skin of his cheek under your palm? The soft plushness of his lips against yours-

"General?" He interrupted your fleeting thoughts, a glint of hope shining in his eyes as you shook your head lightly. 

It was the defeated, gentle sigh that gave you away. 

If it were anyone else, Rex would never dare to ask such a question. But with you- with you, his men felt most comfortable, most safe. They respected you, and could feel you returning that respect every time you'd prioritise their lives over yours, telling them to retreat, to find cover as you had a handle on every situation, on every battle. You never abandoned them.

"Fine.. But I'll need at least one of you to accompany me." You paused, quirking a brow at the Captain, conveying your seriousness in just one look. "And I'll need the men to be on guard, okay? We can't risk being caught off guard if anything were to happen." You finally finished, your toast long forgotten, cooling down in the chilled canteen, as Rex graced you with the gentlest of smiles, his gaze softening the longer he listened to you.

He knew he could count on you, and he would prove to you that this wasn't a mistake. That it wouldn't be. 

Clearing his throat, Rex stood up from his seat, rounding the table to you. 

"Thank you General, I can assure you that the squadron will be ready for any and every circumstance, and I will personally escort you to the meetings. You have my word." He spoke, reaching his hand out for yours. Confusedly, you extended your hand into his grasp, a hint of pink dusting your cheeks as he pressed a swift kiss to your knuckles.

"R-Re- Uhm, Captain," You stuttered and paused, clearing your throat as you prayed for the blush to go away, "There is no need to thank me." You insisted, slowly getting up from your seat. His gaze followed you, tracing over your body with an unknown emotion hiding behind his thick lashes.

"Thank you General, now if you'll excuse me, I'll go inform the others that haven't heard." He stated, bidding you a goodbye, cheers following soon after as Rex lifted a hand, signing a thumbs up to some of his men behind you. Your gaze followed his form as you watched him exit the canteen, his head turning to look back at you one last time before the doors slid shut behind him. 

"What the hell was that.." You whispered, continuing your breakfast as your thoughts ran at tens of miles an hour, a blush permanently settled on your cheeks.

-

"Captain, are you sure this is a good idea?" Fives asked as he adjusted his helmet, following Rex as they made their way to your quarters.

"Yes yes, I'm sure. She should be in here anyway." Rex stated, waving his brother's concerns off as they rounded the corner, your bedroom doors coming into sight. "Besides, she said we should meet her at her quarters before we depart." He insisted, coming to a stop by your doors.

Raising his fisted hand, Rex knocked on your doors three times before backing away, waiting for a response. 

As a moment turned into a minute, and a minute turned into three, Rex knocked again, this time calling out your title. "General? Are you in there?" He asked, his voice raised in uncertainty. When he received no reply once again, he shook his head.

"I don't think she's in there." He turned to Fives, feet ready to start moving again as his brain racked over any other locations on the ship that you frequented. Fives looked at Rex, quirking a curious brow at him, though his helmet covered any and all expressions he shot in his brother's way.

"Maybe we should go in? Who knows, maybe the General got herself stuck in the refresher." He quipped, a smirk tugging at his lips as Fives made his way over to your door. Pressing a button, the doors swiftly opened before him. 

Walking over to the doors of your refresher, Rex followed after Fives, taking his helmet off, unable to, unwilling to, stop his eyes from wondering all over your room, taking note of the lack of personalised decorations in your bedroom. There was a desk, numerous multi-coloured folders stacked neatly on top of it, a small lamp next to them.

He looked over your wardrobe, his fingers itching to pull it open, to see what other articles of clothing you owned apart from your Jedi robes.

As Fives knocked at the refresher doors, his helmet at his side, Rex inched closer to your bed, noticing a small notebook hidden just beside your pillow, still open on the most recent page. His fingers reached over for it, eyes scanning over the yellow-coloured pages, gloved hands gliding over the leathery spine of the small book. 

"Oooh, what's that?"

Before Rex could react, the book was snatched from his grasp, his head snapping upwards to see Fives flipping through the pages, turning and closing the book, only to gasp. That had Rex's ears almost twitching, a curious brow quirked up. 

"What? What is it Fives?" Rex asked, standing next to his brother. 

The silence that followed made him uneasy, and leaning his head closer, he looked to the book, his lips gaping open.

"Do you see what I see?" Fives inquired, a smirk tugging at his lips as he turned his head to Rex. All that Rex could do was nod in stunned silence.

"Y/n's Personal Diary.." Fives whispered aloud, eyes scanning over the firsts page.

A lump built up in Rex's throat, his fingers twitching nervously at his sides as Fives read over the words you had messily written in your diary, his heart thumping as he recounted each memory, a soft smile tugging at both brothers' lips as they could feel every emotion you had spilled out onto the pages.

Though they quickly scrambled to hide the small book behind their backs, interrupted by the sound of your bedroom doors sliding open.

A scream left your lips as your gaze landed on the two armoured men, heart racing wildly at the unexpected scare. Their gazes didn't linger on you for too long, a faint pink ghosting over their cheeks as they looked anywhere but you.

"H-Hi General, we tried knocking but-" Rex begun, unsure of how to explain why he and his brother were snooping around your quarters.

"We were worried that you got stuck in the refresher when we heard no answer, so we wanted to make sure you were safe and ready for our trip." Fives finished Rex's sentence, casting his brother and Captain a side glance, his lips stretched into an awkward, innocent grin on his face. 

"R-Right.. Sorry, General, it won't happen again."

"That's quite alright, I'm actually flattered you men were worried about me," You spoke softly, hand covering your mouth as you giggled at their explanation, your heart warming at the thought that the two cared so much for your well-being. Though you wouldn't let yourself show just how much that thought made you blush. "Now come on, we've got meetings to go to." You exclaimed, waving the two men over as you made your way out into the hall.

Giving each other a knowing glance, Rex and Fives followed, quietly telling one another to hide the diary. Rex nudged Fives with his elbow, now too far gone to quietly and innocently return the book to its original place.

"Just shove it into your bag.." Rex hissed out through thin lips, rushing after you as he cast his brother one last glance, making sure the diary was stored safely in one of their backpacks. 

[tightjeansjavi]

From Eden | AU Pirate! Joel Miller x Mermaid f! Reader

A/N: at long last, we have arrived. This fic was totally self indulgent for me as mermaid lore and pirates has always been a huge interest for me ever since I was a child (I blame pirates of the Caribbean) this is my first time dipping my toe in fantasy writing, but I am so excited to share this with you all. 🏴‍☠️🖤

~word count: 6.6k~

Summary: a prince with a desire for a new life, endures on a journey he’ll never forget. A journey that ends with you by his side always.

Warnings: angst, swearing, implicit smut, ambiguous ending that leads the reader to decide what has become of Joel, mentions of drinking, mild violence, awful mothers/fathers, arranged marriages, pirate talk, death, grief, magic, fantasy, mermaid lore, old English (that may or may not be historically accurate) reader has no physical description, no use of y/n minors dni! (+18)

The sea calls to me, mother. It beckons me. The salty breeze whispers my name. Do not fret where I have ventured. Tis be only in vain. Mourn me not for my departure. I will not live a life I wish not to live. I desire adventure and friendship. I do not wish to be pacified by marriage, and the duties forthcoming with it. I disdain the thought of growing old and grayed without discovering what the world has to offer. I will bear you no grandchildren, and our lineage will wash away with the tide. Pity me not, for I pity you. Leave thou tears unshed, for I will not shed my own in the thought of you.

-J.M 1721

On the eve of Joel’s wedding, under the flickering soft glow of candlelight, the husband-to-be dipped his feather quill lightly into the ink reservoir. He pondered what words would flow onto the parchment resting below his palm. The seconds ticked by as he sealed his destiny in ebony ink. Annabeth would find better. Someone more suitable for her mundane needs. Joel would not be her husband, she would not become his wife.

“My lady, does your mind ever drift and dream of faraway adventure? Does your heart not shriek in the darkest of night for more than these measly castle walls have to offer?” He gingerly took her hand in his own, fighting the bile that rose in his throat as his eyes drifted down to the ring presently shimmering on her finger. The ringer he dutifully betrothed her with.

“My prince, my only wish is to be your dutiful wife and bless you with as many sons and daughters my body can carry. Tomorrow brings new beginnings. In the evening light we shall be married, and you will bed me as you please. Is this no longer what you desire? My prince, what has become of thee?” The backside of her dainty hand rested upon his forehead for she was afraid he had come down with a delirious fever.

“Annabeth, my flower, I wish to see the world. I wish to know what lies beyond the steady horizon. To taste the sea upon my lips, to clench the sand beneath my palms. You speak of me as your prince, but I wish to not be addressed as one. I do not wish to bed thee.”

“Thou speaks evil upon thy tongue. My prince, oh how you wound me so. I wish not to be in a loveless marriage with a man who yearns for the caress of the sea. Why must your heart and mind wander? Why must you disobey your mother’s wishes? Have I not devoted myself to thee?”

A heavy sigh through the evening breeze. Joel’s forehead came to rest upon her bosom as his lashes fluttered shut. “Dearest Annabeth, thou hast not lived in happiness. Thou has lived by her mothers law since thou was just a babe. How cruel that you are expected to marry not out of love, but for status. Dost thou truly want to live a life imprisoned by marriage?”

She wept silent tears for she did not want to be married to a man that did not love her. She did not want to bear his children. She had dreams of a life far richer. Far away from silver platters, incessant lectures, and garments far too tight to breathe in. Her chin fell to rest upon his head as salty tears rolled down her cheekbones.

“My prince, I have always dreamed of becoming a poet. Mother disapproves. She believes that women cannot be anything but wives and mothers. I do not wish to bear children. It is expected of me, but I loathe it.”

Joel chuckled, pressing a kiss to the soft skin between the valley of her breasts where a smooth silver pendant lay. “Thou mother is an impudent cunt.” She giggled softly at his quick tongue.

her fingers threaded themselves through his hair, twisting ringlets mindlessly. “Mother would have thy tongue for use of such foul language.”

He snorted. “Dost thou disagree? Annabeth, it is just you and I in the gardens this evening. No one shall reprimand thee for speaking the truth.”

“My mother is a foul, loathsome, impudent cunt.”

“Recite it again, my flower.”

“My mother is a cunt.”

“Encore” he hummed.

“My mother is a cunt. I detest this all-too tight dress, and I do not desire to marry thee.”

“Bien joué, ma fleur”

“My prince, I thought thou despised French studies?” She pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head.

“Oui, mon chéri.”

She sighed, soft and gentle as she laid back into the soft cooling grass, gazing up at the glittering sky above. Joel followed her body, resting the side of his head in the lap of her flowy fabric dress.

“My prince, where will thou venture?”

“Tortuga, my flower. There I will be a prince no more. My lineage will fall as my mother weeps, and I shall step into piracy, and sail the high seas just as I have always dreamed.”

“Thou wishes to become a pirate?” She queried.

“Indeed. Tis true, my flower.”

“Thou shall make a handsome pirate.” She softly giggled, gently stroking his soft curls that she would admittedly miss terribly when he would depart.

“Just as thou shall make a brilliant minded poet.” He assured her.

Dark maroon wax dripped languidly along the pale parchment. Joel sealed the letter with a practice hand. His heart raced within the depths of his ribcage as the realization set in that he would be a prince no more. No more pretentious royals, no more stingy small talk, no more ballroom dances, no more lectures.

Joel Miller was to be a free man for the first time in his 17 years of life. The dying candle along his desk was blown out as the smoke curled and lingered. Below his window and past the looming castle walls, Joel could hear the sea whisper his name. In a giddy haste he packed his necessities in a leather bag. He took one last gaze over his room before departing into the ominous night.

His midnight black steed was steady under the saddle as the moonlight guided their way to the port docks. They rode swiftly and silently through the cobblestone city streets. Moving through the shadows with a soft squeeze of his inside leg to spur Hendrix forward. Joel’s horse was one of his prized possessions. A jet black colt with a tiny star being his only white marking. He would be saddened to never see his hooved companion again.

He could taste the salty sea air along his taste buds as the crescendo of crashing waves neared. With a soft tug on the reins, Hendrix slowed to a steady walk along the dock. He was so close to freedom. It was there, in his grasp as he discarded the hood of his cloak around his shoulders. Joel had studied many books on ships and how to maneuver one. It was frowned upon by his mother, so for this reason he’d sneak out late at night and find himself enriched in the library on the east end of the castle. It was now or never for him to put his knowledge learned under a real test. So much for trial and error.

“My prince?” The old sailor hobbled from the shadows of the creaky dock. A lantern trembling in his weathered grip. A quizzical expression crossed his sagging features as he watched Joel dismount from his steed.

“Thou shalt not speak of what thy has seen. I offer my horse in trade for your ship. Hurry please, my fellow. Before they become aware of my untimely departure. I have gold to offer thee as well. My horse can carry you wherever thy desires to wander.” Joel uttered, urgency stricken in his tone.

“My prince..is thee not set to be married in the morn? What use do you have for my ship lad?”

“Good fellow, I simply wish to leave the life I once knew and explore the world and all she has to offer.” He pulled out a sack of gold coins from under his cloak. “All I ask of thee is to speak to no one. Take care of my horse. He’s a good steed, and I shall miss him dearly.”

“Aye, adventure calls thy name?” The sailor pocketed the gold and grasped the smooth leather reins in his palm. “Best be on your way then, laddie. Your steed will be in good hands.”

“Bless you, sir. I wish you good fortune in your days to come.” He gently patted Hendrix along his silky smooth neck. “I shall miss you, my dear friend.”

Just like that, Joel Miller was no longer a prince. His name held a title no more. The tide pulled him out further, and further as he let out a sound filled with glee. A ship of his own to sail the high seas, what a pirate's life f’me.

In the far off distance, Joel could faintly hear the panicked bells ring. The prince was found to be missing from his bed chambers. Where had he gone? No one except Annabeth and an old sailor knew the truth of the prince’s disappearance.

Being a pirate was not all it cracked out to be. Well, in the first few years of entering piracy. His hair had grown longer, longer than it had ever been. It was speckled with sea salt and curled at the nape of his neck. The curls were unruly both from the sea, and maidens that enjoyed tugging on the strands with slender fingers. His once clean shaven face had grown into a patchy beard. The whores he bed didn’t seem to mind how it would scratch the apex of their thighs as he went to town on their pulsing cunts. He felt far more like that of a man with his facial hair. Oh the horror his mother would feel if she were to know of how her once proper, budding son became a frequent customer at one of Tortuga’s many brothels.

He always paid in gold handsomely. It drew the eyes of company that he did not wish to partake in. He was strong, sure and able to fight without breaking a sweat but as soon as a pistol was pulled and he had yet to obtain one, he quickly realized he would not be coming out of this altercation unscathed. He did however get a few good punches in before ultimately handing over the gold coins he kept on his person.

He thought he had the opposing pirates out-fooled by keeping a stash of his gold back at the inn room he inhabited..until he returned later that evening to find his room ransacked and his gold stolen. So be it, he thought. At least they didn’t take the rum.

That’s how he presently found himself in a drunken stupor, wandering the streets, getting into more fights than he could count until a fellow pirate took pity upon him one early morning…

A swift kick to his gut from a heavy boot sent Joel coughing up the rum that was still sloshing in his stomach. He groaned, reaching for his pistol but it was knocked from his grasp and landed a few feet away.

“Get yer ass up laddie.” A gruff voice spoke above him.

“Who the fuck are you—”

Another swift kick had Joel scrambling to sit up as he finally grasped his pistol and cocked it at the intruder. “I suggest ye fuck off back to wherever ye came from.” He growled under his breath.

“Yer drunk, matey. Ain’t gonna get a clear shot even if ya tried.” The older pirate crouched down to his level with a low chortle.

“What’s it to ya?” Joel snarked back.

“Ye got a ship lad? A crew?”

“Aye. I have a ship..I do not possess a crew. Do ye not have a ship? What kind of pirate doesn’t have his own ship?”

“Lost ‘er at sea I’m afraid. Ye have a ship, but be needin’ a crew. I can provide the crew if ye provide the ship, savvy?”

Joel was weary of the older pirate’s offer. He had preferred to sail the seas alone but considering his current state..what more did he truly have to lose?

“Ye have a deal.” He nodded in agreement.

“Smart lad ye be.” He helped the younger pirate to his feet, clapping him on the back stiffly.

Joel had become a seasoned pirate in a short period of time under the guidance of the older pirate. When he passed of old age, Joel became the captain. His ship and crew echoed through the Mediterranean channel. He felt that he had become unstoppable. Driven with greed and the desire for more, he led his crew to their watery grave too soon.

“Captain! She’ll never fit through! You’re goin’ to kill us all!” His secondhand warned him as they steadfastly approached shipwreck cove.

“Aye, she’ll fit! Have I ever let thee down?” His grip along the helm was steady and true.

“No sir, thee have not!”

“Hold ‘er steady boys!” Joel’s confidence wavered when he faced the cold hard truth that his ship would not fit through the rocky channel. He turned the helm sharply to avoid a collision but he was too late, the bow struck true.

“Abandon ship! Abandon ship—” his men yelled in a panic.

a deafening boom

flames

blood curdling screams of his frightened men being dragged down to Davy Jones Locker.

blood oozed from a gash along Joel’s eyebrow as he struggled to pull himself up to his feet. His ears were ringing as he took in the sight before him. Everything in his sight was burning. The wood creaked and groaned as the growing flames licked at his skin. This was the first in many moons that Joel truly felt terrified. He dove into the depths below, using the strength he had left to swim to the nearest shore.

He swore through the murky waters that he caught sight of shimmery scales..a swishing fin. Or perhaps it was his deluded mind playing a trick on him. Mermaids were just old wives tales after all. Creatures of the depths that woo men to their watery graves with alluring songs and seductive beauty.

He struggled to breach the surface as exhaustion seeped into his veins. His lungs screamed for air as he fought against the strong current with everything he had left in him. Suddenly, everything went black.

As a young mermaid you were taught to fear men, whether their ships carried white sails, or black. All men were to be feared. Your father forbade you and your sisters from ever making yourselves known to the surface world. It was too risky especially with the uprising of pirates. Your sisters like to toy with lone sailors lost at sea. They used their beauty and their natural talents of song to lure their victims to the depths.

Their song was melodious, angelic, and addictive; it was almost as if the men were under a trance and unable to escape your sister's snares. It was all a game to your sister’s of course. When your father caught wind of what your sister’s were doing in the pitch black of the night, he encouraged it.

You had no interest in drowning men. You had no reason to cause harm to another being that had inflicted no harm to you. Why couldn’t men and mermaids live in peace?

You spotted the ship crash into the rocky channel from afar. You saw frightened men jump into the sea, thinking that they would survive to see another sunrise..till your sisters dragged them to where the sunlight never reaches. Ripping them limb from limb to become mere fish food.

You witnessed the last body to hit the water from the safety of a looming sponge coral. You watched his arms struggle to pull himself to the surface, desperately clawing for air. When he gave in to what he believed to be his fate, and his body began to sink like deadweight, you made the split second decision to save this man. You swam as fast as you could, gliding through the water as you wrapped your arms around his torso and swam towards the light.

He was heavier in the water, but you were strong willed, and determined to save his life. When you breached the surface the man in your steady grip made no signs of life as you swam to the shore and hauled his body along the wet sand. You discovered that he was quite handsome, with hair that fell in ringlets, and soft pillowy lips that paired with a strong aquiline nose.

This man, pirate or not, was stunning.

Your hand gently came to rest along his cheek, feeling the stubble along his patchy beard lightly prick your skin like a sea urchin. You checked his body for injuries in a haste. Your fingers gently pushed back his hair to find the gash along his forehead. It ran fairly deep into his brow line, while crimson blood continued to trickle down his face only to be washed away by the gentle waves along the shoreline. The sea had healing properties as you knew, and the many plants that dwell below the surface were rich in nutrients, and could heal even the deepest of wounds.

You worked quickly as your fear of the man waking up was becoming prevalent when you observed his dark lashes fluttering and his body twitch. You gathered up a bit of seaweed that was used to heal open lacerations on the skin's surface. You delicately lay a strand of seaweed across his dripping brow. The blood clotted as the miracle plant adhered to his broken skin like glue. Magic, or science? The world may never know.

Your eyes zoned in on the pooling of blood through the once white linen of his shirt. There was a stray fragment of splintered wood sticking out from his side. The intrusion went fairly deep and it would require a little more work.

“Oh, fiddlesticks. I’m deeply sorry, sir. If you can hear me, I’m afraid this is going to hurt a tad.”

Am I dreaming..or is that a maiden's voice?

I must be dead, for I have never heard a voice tis so soft and sweet sounding.

With a small huff you grasped the end of the jagged wood and gave it a firm yank.

Your jolly sailor bold let out a deep gravelly wheeze as his hand subconsciously went to clutch at his side. More seaweed was gently laid upon his open wound and when you were satisfied that beautiful man would not bleed out upon the sand, you turned your body to head back to the sea.

With a flip of your shimmery tail you disappeared under the waves surface, and back to the depths of your home. You didn’t wander far as your own curiosity got the best of you. You hoped that your jolly sailor bold would awake to see another day. Perhaps your sisters and father wouldn’t send a search party for you. Perhaps they would believe you to be crushed by the bow of the ship. For now, you waded in the coral reefs below the surface to patiently wait.

Joel awoke suddenly in a disarray to his surroundings. All he could remember was his prized ship crashing into the rocky channel, his men’s frightened screams, and then everything went to black. How did he end up on the shoreline? Did he swim?..The current was far too dangerous to tread. The waves would knock him down..did someone save him? Or, was it something?

He slowly rose to a sitting position as he tried to rack his brain for any missing important details. His head turned to the side as he glanced down at the apparent indentation along the wet sand. Someone was with him. An Angel? No, it could not be. Joel wasn’t a religious man by any means. Besides, why would an Angel help a pirate such as he?

“‘Must be dreamin’”, he concluded. “Or I’m really dead. Dead as a man can ever be. Forever lost at sea.” His fingers reached up to brush his hairline where he felt a dull pain. He expected to feel the coolness of blood on his skin instead he was met with a strange slimy, yet soft texture. His hand reached down to his side where the splintered wood had been wrenched from and he was met with the same feeling.

“Blimey. What Devil’s work be this?” He twisted his body to get a better look at the wound on his side. His eyes widened the slightest when he saw the seaweed adhered to his skin. Upon closer inspection, the plant was very much still alive, and he could see the tendrils weaving together slowly acting as a suture.

Confused, and ridden in exhaustion, his body flopped back down along the sand with a soft thump. He was unsure how many hours he had slept under the gentle sway of palm trees, and the steady sea kissing at his feet. When he awoke it was due to a voice he had heard. A whisper through the thick vegetation that lay a few yards behind him. It was the same soft voice from earlier. A woman’s voice; the most beautiful voice had ever touched his undeserving ears.

Struggling to his feet, he staggered towards the voice, and used the sturdy bases of the palm trees to balance him. His body was still fairly weak, but he’d be damned if he didn’t meet the maiden that possessed such a sweet sounding tune.

As he drew nearer, the voice became clearer and easily detectable. Oh, it was so beautiful. Chillingly beautiful. It would be fairly easy for a man to be driven into madness from hearing a song so saccharine.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as coal

My happiness attend him wherever he may go

From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I'll wander, weep and moan

All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home

He followed your voice till he was greeted by the lagoon tucked away in the jungle. The water was crystal clear and below there were all kinds of coral and sea life thriving. What he was first to take notice of was the fair maiden that laid basking along a smooth damp rock. He could only see your upper torso that appeared to be covered by shimmering silk that wrapped around your breasts like drifting seaweed. His lips parted in surprise as he had never laid his eyes upon a maiden so stunning in his lifetime.

A twig snapped under the weight of his boot as he crept closer. You had not caught wind of your jolly sailor bold till your keen ears detected the sound of a twig snapping. It was enough to send your mind in a fury of panic as you dove below the surface. Your tail flapped as you slipped off the rock, it created a wild splash from the movement.

“Wait! I do not mean to frighten thee! Please, don’t go. Are you the maiden that saved me? I awoke on the sand..confused how I came to rest there. Please, need not to be afraid. I promise I will not harm thee.” He slowly approached the entryway to the lagoon, crouching down onto his knees.

You slowly peeked around the corner of the rock you had previously been sunbathing on. “I am the one to save you sir, but I am no maiden.”

“What are thee then? You appear to be a maiden, one that I now owe my very life to. I will forever be in your debt.”

“I am one with the sea..one of her many children that dwell in the depths below. You do not owe your life to me sir. I only wished to do a good deed.”

“One with..the sea? Is this a riddle? My head hurts far too much for any riddles, my dear. Do ye have a name?”

“Tis not a riddle, sir. For I am a mermaid. The sea is my home. I cannot utter my name to thee as it is forbidden.”

“A mermaid? Poppycock. Mermaids are just silly wives tales. I do not believe in such stories.” He swallowed a scoff that crawled up his throat.

Your tail suddenly swished above the surface as Joel clambered back, rubbing his eyes with his fists.

“By god, I must be dreamin!’ How can it be? Body of a woman, tail of a fish. Are the tales true?” He asked in disbelief.

“‘You are not dreaming, sir. I am as true as can be. Do I frighten thee?”

“No, no. I am simply just awestruck. A real life mermaid. I have never been confronted with such beauty to behold.”

You cautiously swam closer. You couldn’t help but to be drawn to the thrill of danger, even when every fiber in your scaled being was screaming at you to not draw nearer. Your arms slowly rose from the surface and came to rest along the rocky shore as you looked up at him through soft lashes. “And you, are you my jolly sailor bold?” You asked softly, tilting your chin to rest upon the top of your wrist.

Joel’s cheeks inflamed. Never had he felt so flustered by another being. His hand reached up and nervously scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve never been pressured with such forward questions. Are your kind allowed to dwell with pirates?”

“For a pirate such as thee, you are quite sweet, and charming. Are all pirates like you?”

“I’m afraid not, my jewel. Most of us are quite brutish in nature. I come from Royal blood, and no matter how many years I have been away from my old life, my manners always find a way to sneak through. My men—” he paused rather suddenly. “My crew..were they saved? Please, tell me that they’re alive and not forever lost at sea.”

“Your men..didn’t survive. I’m so sorry, sir. My sisters are not as kind as I. They dragged them to the depths..ripped them limb from limb. Father would have a heart attack if he saw me conversing with you.”

“Fuck.” He whispered as he fell back onto his haunches and buried his face in his hands. “It’s all my fault. I am the cause of their deaths. If only I had listened..if only my ego did not shroud my judgment, they would still be alive.”

Your hand gently came to rest upon his arm. It caused you great distress to see another being in pain. Physical, or the mental kind, you felt it through and through. “You cannot beat yourself up over what has already been done. Not when you are still breathing air into your lungs, and tasting the sea along thy tongue. Do not weep for the dead, sir. You will see them when the time comes.”

Joel flinched at the soft contact, as it had been many moons since he felt the touch of a woman on his skin. “Joel.” He whispered. “My name is Joel, and I wish for you to whisper it as softly as thou sings.”

“Joel..I like the way it falls from thy tongue. Where doth thou wander from?..how did thou turn to piracy?”

“I like the way it sounds rolling past thy lips. I ran away from home, many years ago. I traded my trusted steed for a sailors ship. I was set to be married and live a life that I did not wish to live. My wife to-be was the only person to understand me, and my dreams. For you see, the sea has always beckoned me, and I finally answered it.”

“You ran away? That sounds awfully exhilarating. I’ve always wanted to leave my father and home behind. I suppose in a way I have, now that I am here with you.”

“Oh, it was. I still remember the rush through my veins when the sea carried me far away. All my life I had been searching for a purpose, and once I finally had it in my grasp, I could not forfeit what I always dreamed of. My jewel, why did thee choose to save me?”

“Your actions are very admirable, Joel. I struggle deeply with allowing other beings to be in pain. It goes against my nature. That is why I have never partook in my sister’s ploys. I never desired to drag lonesome sailors to a watery grave. Your life is just as special as the next. I could not bear to see thee perish.”

Your words touched a place inside Joel that no woman had dared to try and reach. It wasn’t that he was closed off to affection, he just simply didn’t have the heart for it. He bed women for an evening and he’d return to the sea the following morning. It was like clockwork. He only had felt for Annabeth, and even then he felt that it was platonic over romantic. He loved her, but not in the way that made his heart race and his palms sweat.

“I appreciate thee for saving my life. I do not feel that I am deserving to live while my men have died in a brutal fashion, but perhaps I shall take thee as a blessing.”

“Joel, every living being is deserving of life. Your woes shall burden you no longer. Doth thou wish to be happy, and at peace?”

“I wish for that, yes. How do I live with the grief in my bones?”

“You learn to forgive, and forget. You see the world for its simple pleasures of beauty, and grace.”

“Such as thee?” He boldly asked.

“If you wish it.” Your palm gently rested upon his own as you coaxed his hand from his face. “I have never thought pirates to be so..handsome.”

He leaned into your gentle cradled touch along stubble covered cheek. “How do you find such beauty in danger? I’ve killed many men. I’ve played the fool, and the instigator. I’ve made honorable decisions, and piss-planned mistakes. I am that of a scoundrel.”

“No, my jolly sailor bold. If thee were to be that of a scoundrel, you would have brought harm upon me. You are gentle at the core.” Your hand slowly drifted down to his exposed chest, feeling his heart skip a beat under your palm.

“You speak of that as a poet. I’d fancy to hear more of your honeyed voice.”

“Only if thou tells me tales of being a pirate.”

“Deal, my jewel.”

For many suns and moons, you and your jolly sailboat were engrossed in one another’s stories. He’d steal glances at your lips every few sentences as your fingers were gently toying with his soft ringlets. He’d recite to you stories of his past life, and present. Stories of adventure and thrills above the surface.

He craned his head to catch a glimpse of your shimmering tail below the surface. He was fascinated, as much as he was enamored. “Do you ever wish that thou had legs?” He softly asked as you twirled a curl gently.

“Sometimes I do wish for it. The sea has so much life and color to offer..but the surface land does spark my curiosity from time to time. I’ve seen ladies in fancy dresses upon ships with white sails. They always look so beautiful.”

“My dear, those ladies may look beautiful in their garments, they however can hardly breathe in them. You would be miserable in that life. Unless you somehow found your way to freedom.”

“Oh, would I be expected to marry for status? Not for love? I had no inclination to believe that their garments were suffocating, how dreadful.”

“Yes, your parents would have picked out a husband for you, before you’d properly experienced a childhood. You’d be forced into incessant lectures, proper etiquette, training and how to be a functioning member in society. Did I fail to mention you’d be forced to attend fancy parties and engage in mindless small talk? Life above the surface as a royal was draining at best.”

“My father has already picked a husband out for me. He is a fine merman, he just..doesn’t make my heart sing. Oh, how I’d love to dance under the moonlight. To hear a live orchestra..or an opera singer..”

Joel turned his nose up when you stated that you already had a husband picked out by the hand of your father. “I see.. Well, you did run away, did you not? You no longer have to marry. Not when you’re here with me. If you wish so terribly to dance, then we shall. All you have to do is wish for it, my jewel.”

“Joel, how are we to dance when you have legs. and I possess fins..” your lips curved in a soft pout.

“My love, in the crystal water you dwell in of course. Do you trust me?” He slowly sat up to rest upon his strong elbow.

“Of course I trust you. You have given me no reason to not trust you. Do you wish to dance with me under the moonlight, my jolly sailor bold?”

“I do, my jewel.” His words whispered against your skin like a soft warm breeze.

Just like that, Joel had stripped himself of his belongings, his holster that held his pistol and sword were discarded to the side as he struggled to unlace his boots. He had the ghost of a boyish grin across the shadow of his jawline. He truly was that of beauty.

You slowly swam backwards, wading in the gentle water as he swung his legs over the ledge and slipped in. His body was fully healed by now and only a scar along his browline and side were visible.

“Promise not to laugh..I am not the strongest of swimmers.” He chuckled as he swam towards you.

Under the pale moonlight and stars above, you were captivated by his golden tanned skin that was now speckled with water droplets. The gold that hung around his neck shimmered like your scales and the rings that encased his fingers.

“I’d only ever laugh in good fun at thee.”

“I never knew a mermaid could hold such humor.” He winked coyly.

“I never knew a pirate could be so..cheeky.” Your arms slowly looped around his neck as his gentle hands rested upon your scaly waist.

You slowly began to move your bodies under the water, mimicking that of a man and woman dancing to the sweet sound of a violin. The water rippled as the crickets chirped along the shore.

Joel Miller had never been in love; he decided now that his heart belonged to you, a mermaid that he believed was brought to him by fate alone. How blessed he was to be given a second chance at a fruitful life. He didn’t need a ship, or a crew. All he needed was you.

“Joel..” you whispered through the calm evening air.

“Yes, my jewel?”

“Do you believe that it’s ever too soon to tell someone you love them?”

“No, my love. I do not believe that there is ever a time too soon, or too sudden to confess your love for someone.”

“Then if that is to be true, I love you.”

“I love you, my sea.” His forehead gently came to rest upon your own as his hands slowly and delicately slid up your body. He stroked your hair, your cheekbones as his thumb dragged across your lower lip. “I wish to kiss thee. Do you wish it?”

You leaned into his gentle touch as your fingers threaded through his sea-salt speckled curls. “I wish to feel thy lips upon my own.”

He turned his head to the side, nose gently brushing against your own as his lips met yours. His hands were now gently cradling your face with the utmost care as he kissed you like a lover does for the first time. Your lips moved in synchronized harmony, you and your jolly sailor bold.

Upon one summer's morning, when the sea was at her angriest and the wind howled a ghostly tune as the skies above darkened to pitch black, Joel had decided that a life above the surface was a life he no longer wanted to live. He wished to be with you, forever.

“My jewel!” He yelled for you as he raced for the lagoon that had become yours and his personal oasis.

You swam up from the surface of the lagoon, his voice was like that of a beacon. “My Joel, you shouldn’t be out here. You must find shelter. The storm is picking up and I am frightened that you will be caught up in her fury.” Your tone was urgent as he crouched along the edge of the lagoon.

“My Jewel, my light, please. Please listen to the words I speak. The storm does not frighten me. I have no desire to seek out shelter when I am safe here. I wish for you to take me to the depths. I wish for you to take me to your Eden. Please, my heart aches terribly that I can not be with you fully. The surface world has become my prison. I don’t wish to dwell in it any longer.”

Your face fell upon his confession. Tears blurred your vision as you shook your head vigorously, grasping his hands in your own. “No, my jolly sailor bold. Do not wish such a thing. You are not suited to dwell in the depths of the sea. I forbade it.”

“Please. Please, I am begging you. I have given thee my heart, my soul, take me all; for I am yours.”

“Joel..my heart breaks for thee. You will never return to land if you make this choice.” His hand gently cradled your cheek as he wiped away your tears.

“It is a choice I am willing to make. I wish to be with you for the rest of eternity. Till the sun rises in the west, and sets in the east. Till mountains crumble, and the sea dries, and the earth cracks and shatters to dust. I wish to be with you, always.” He murmured softly.

“Take my hand, and never let go.”

“Never, my jewel. I will never let go.” He promised to you.

He grasped your hand bravely in his own. He kissed you swiftly, holding your face as close to his as possible. He could taste the salt dripping from your tears mixing in with his own. He took his final lungful of air, before you dragged him below the surface.

Joel Miller, once a prince turned a pirate; Was never seen by the surface world again. Some say he was driven mad by the loneliness, and grief that he took his own life and drowned in the sea's treacherous depths. Others say the sea always called his name, beckoned him to return home, and so he did. The sea claimed him, and he her, just as it had been written.

Tagging people I think will enjoy: @dinsdjrn @cavillscurls @sinsofsummers @thetriumphantpanda @cupofjoel @morning-star-joy @darkroastjoel @tessa-quayle @saradika @chaotic-mystery @kirsteng42 @korynnekorynne @amanitacowboy @last-girl @lovers-liability @pedrostories

Banners made by the lovely @saradika

[detroit-become-dyke]

for @klancekisszine's D/WTIYS <3

(I'm following from @thatsgoodweather)

Incredible art by @/_lucidverse_ on IG:

Keith and Lance lay on the indigo grass of the newly liberated planet, their elbows splayed behind their heads, resting gently against each other. Keith’s long hair filled the space between them, tickling the top of Lance’s head. The pair gazed up at the stars as they so often did together. Trying to find home.

“I think it’s that way,” Lance pointed just above the horizon behind him, his index finger fully obscuring Keith’s vision.

“What makes you think that?” Keith postured, playfully knocking Lance’s hand aside.

“I don’t know…” Lance trailed off. “I just…feel it.” Lance settled back down onto the grass and let his eyes wander, no longer fixed on the faraway Earth.

The two sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying each others’ company. “Hey, what do you think those stars look like?” Keith prompted, a lightness in his voice that Lance was noticing more and more often.

“What stars?” Lance asked without really looking. And then he saw them. The constellation filled the sky’s zenith, a broad expanse of galaxies and nebulas and stars and planets. And it looked…just like them. “Its–it’s us!” he exclaimed, sitting up straight, his head tilted straight back, the slender line of his neck flexing.

Keith sat up on one arm so he could better see his boyfriend. Eyes sparkling and smile wide, Lance lay back down on the grass, reaching one hand out to Keith as he did.

“You see that little curlicue?” Lance pointed. “That’s the tip of your bangs that never stays in place!” Keith followed the line from Lance’s finger and laughed.

“And that smattering of stars? Those are my freckles!” Lance continued.

“And our lips–our lips…” Lance quieted down, a smile still playing on his lips. “We’re kiiiissing.” Lance teased.

“As if we haven’t kissed a hundred times already.” Keith pointed out.

“Only a hundred?” Lance pouted.

Keith rolled his eyes.

“How about a hundred and one?” Lance proposed, sitting up again and pulling Keith with him.

“You’re insufferable,” Keith breathed, even as he leaned in close.

Their eyes closed the moment their lips brushed together, Lance’s arms coming up to rest on Keith’s broad shoulders. Keith’s own arms wrapped around Lance’s midsection, holding him tight–a promise to never let go. In the middle of that grassy indigo field, the two boys kissed with sweet passion. And in the middle of the constellation above–the very stars that echoed their kiss–in the middle was a supernova.

[dira333]

Sharing Secrets in the Dark - Reo x Reader

A/N: I think I can stop saying that Reo isn't my favorite...

“What was the hardest thing in your time at Blue Lock?” Hisako asks the team.

She’s the other Manager besides you and you’re glad she’s here and as bubbly and talkative as you are quiet. You don’t feel pressured to talk when she’s around, let your eyes wander and take in all the little things no one else seems to notice.

Like Reo leaving the room right after Hisako’s question, the look on his face new and uncomfortable. 

You get up to follow him, have to remind Isagi that you still exist so that he lets you pass.

Outside, Reo’s already gone, but you have a hunch on where he went.

Unsurprisingly, you find him on the field, dribbling a ball with an almost murderous expression on his face.

“Hi,” you greet him, your own voice echoing in your ears. 

He puts a smile on his face the second he hears you talk, but it doesn’t stick. It slides off his lips and reveals the scowl underneath.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask, “Or do you want me to start the Blue Lock Man Program so you can play? I’d offer to play Goalie myself but that wouldn’t be much fun for you.”

He hesitates for a moment before he nods. “I’ll shoot some Goals.” 

It’s not surprising that he doesn’t want to talk to you. After all, you’ve only been introduced a few days ago and whatever’s bothering Reo, he doesn’t seem to be the kind of person to spill his heart to just about anybody.

You still take a seat on the side, the artificial grass tickling your bare feet as you sit.

Three Goals in, Reo stops to catch his breath and looks over.

“What do you think of Nagi?”

“He’s tall.” You offer and Reo laughs so loud it echoes.

“And what about his character?”

You pull your lower lip between your teeth to think. There’s not just the question of what you think, but also what he might want to hear. Or how he wants to hear it. Reo and Nagi seem close after all.

“I think… he takes a lot of things at face value. If he doesn’t care enough or doesn’t want to spend energy on it, he doesn’t, no matter how important it may seem to others. It could be a bit unnerving because most people tend to create energy to get what they want and go beyond their limits. I mean, I’ve seen him stop eating even though he was hungry just because he didn’t want to chew any longer.”

There’s a faraway look in Reo’s eyes. You wonder if he will tell you, confide in you what bothers him so much.

But just as he opens his mouth, he’s interrupted.

“Starting without us? How rude!” Bachira bounds onto the field, steals the ball from Reo, and passes it to Isagi.

The moment is gone, but you can still feel Reo’s eyes on you even as they play.

-

You turn at the sound of the door.

The rooftop is mostly covered in darkness, but the golden light of the street lamps doesn’t reach the newcomer's face. But you know that hair…

“Hi, Reo.” You speak up from where you’re sitting.

He turns toward you. 

“Hey. Are you okay?” His voice is low and careful as if talking to a scared animal.

With a start, you realize that he’s not here to destress himself. He must have followed you up here.

“Yeah, sure.” You croak out and wipe the remaining tears from your cheek. “I just overreacted.”

“I would have reacted the same way.” Reo offers gently, slowly inching closer. “Can I sit with you for a bit?”

“Sure.” You nod even though he can’t possibly see it in the dark. His body is warm next to you, his warmth reaching you even though you’re not touching. He feels safe, like a living, breathing shield. Some of the tension bleeds from your muscles and you sigh, wrap your arms around your knees, and stare at the streets below you.

“Do you think I’m useless?” You ask. “You can be honest. I want to improve.”

“I think Barou is a dick.”

You snort at this decisive comment. 

“He’s your teamm-”

“No, don’t make excuses for him. He’s a dick. You’ve been nothing but helpful to all of us. He’s just grouchy because Rin managed to score more goals than him. He gets pissy when someone else is better than him.”

“But Hisako-”

“Don’t tell her, but I think she could talk a little less.” He turns his face, and you think there’s a smile on his lips, but you can’t really tell in the dark.

“You’re just saying that to be nice.”

“I’m not nice. Just honest.” He leans over and brushes his hand against your arm.

Goosebumps rise under his touch. A warm scent fills your nose. It’s not the Blue Lock 3 in 1 body wash scent you’ve come to loathe and your breath catches in your throat.

“Just like I thought. You’re ice cold. May I warm you up?”

“How?” You ask, mouth running dry when he takes your hands into his, thumb running over your knuckles. He brings them to his mouth and blows on them, his warm breath shooting through you like electricity.

Something fizzles between you, a new kind of tension you would never have expected.

You wonder if he’d kiss you, tonight, on this rooftop. 

But the moment shatters with the sound of the door being thrown open, Bachira’s voice cutting through the night.

“Reo-chan? Are you out here? We’re looking for you and Manager-chan.”

Reo drops your hand and gets up, dusts himself off as he walks over to Bachira.

“I’m here. I heard a noise, but I think it was a Tanuki.”

“A Tanuki?” Bachira sounds scandalized. “On a rooftop? Are you seeing things?”

“It’s dark out here, okay?” Reo scoffs. “Also it’s way too cold out here for her to be staying outside for so long. She’s probably in her room. Has Barou gotten a grip yet?”

Bachira sighs. “Not yet. But Kunigami is working on it. We think he’d apologize if he saw her.”

“Ah well, serves him right to feel guilty a bit longer. That was uncalled for. Let’s get inside, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

“Not much to freeze off…” Bachira teases and the door clicks shut behind them.

-

“It’s getting warmer.” You remark a few weeks later.

Just outside the reach of the street lamps, Reo’s shoulder bumped into yours and stayed there. He runs warm and having him next to you is like having a personal space heater.

Ever since that first night, you’ve found yourself up here again and again.

All it needed was a shared look, one eyebrow raised or lips pulled up to one side, and you knew to come up here after dinner.

So far you’ve managed to bring up a blanket and two spare pillows to sit on. Only once you had to turn back at the door because of the weather, heavy rain pelting every available surface.

“What a shame.” Reo mumbles.

“You like the cold?” You ask, always eager to learn more about him.

No matter how many secrets you spill up here, there still seems to be more to know.

By now you know what his worst moment at Blue Lock was - Nagi turning his back on him to play with Isagi, have shared memories of your childhood and dreams of your future.

Talking has never come easy to you, but it does with Reo.

“I like warming you up.” He says and your blood rushes to your head. 

“I- don’t… don’t say something like that.” Your voice sounds way too hoarse to be natural.

“What?” He asks and you wonder if you’re imagining the little quiver in his voice. “Can’t I be honest with you?”

“I… I’m just… I…”

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, voice so low you can barely hear him about the noise in your ears. Maybe you even misheard him. He’d never ask that, right? Maybe he asked if you’d miss him. That you can answer easily.

“Yes.” You say, quietly, like a mouse.

Only a heartbeat later his lips are on yours, warm, a little chapped, but so gentle in their touch.

Your heart stops, then barges on, racing in your chest. His hands are on yours, warm fingers around cold ones. You’re holding hands as he kisses you, again and again and again, as if he’s trying to imprint their touch onto you, so that you’ll never ever forget it.

-

The first kiss breaks a dam and the flood takes everything with it.

Reo’s play improves so significantly that Rin and Barou are now constantly wearing a scowl on their face. He doesn’t seem to get tired when playing and when he passes, he risks moves so crazy Bachira comes running right after, hugging him with excited squealing.

You don’t think that anyone suspects anything.

The two of you keep carefully calm around each other. You hardly ever speak to him outside the rooftop, just like you hardly ever speak to anyone. 

You hand over towels and waterbottles, massage Chigiri’s leg in between breaks or run from Barou when he misses a goal. 

You bite your tongue when Hisako drowns Reo in affection and you keep yourself out of reach of Isagi’s arms - he has developed the annoying habit of hugging people after a good game. Your efforts are rewarded with soft kisses, the caress of his hands, the warmth of his hugs.

More then once have you fallen asleep on the rooftop, curled into each other, your nose pressed against his neck as you inhale a scent you’ll never get tired off.

“I like it when you’re a little jealous.” He tells you one night when you complain about Hisako droning on and on about Reo’s latest streak of victories. “Makes me feel a little better about being jealous myself.”

“Like you have a reason to be.” You tease and lean forward to kiss his nose. 

“I just…” He huffs. “I can’t help thinking about Nagi turning away from me. Like I understand in my head that it was necessary for him to improve and that I want him to improve, but everything in me screamed ‘Mine!’ when he did that. I want to you to improve and be better and have a better life too but the thought of you turning away-” He stops in the middle of his sentence and swallows harshly. You press a kiss to his Adam’s apple, trying to soothe his unease.

“I’m not an egoist.” You remind him. “I don’t have to be. I like compromises too. If you can’t have all of two things, you could settle for half of both, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“If Ego finds us out and I have to choose between you and managing Blue Lock, I can’t have both, right? But I could keep being a manager, just for another team and I could… keep you?” You don’t really mean for it to sound like a question, but you’re also not confident enough to believe that he’d want to go through the effort of dating you when you’re not conveniently around.

Reo’s answer is a kiss that silences your doubt. 

“When we get our free weekend,” he says when you’re both breathless, molten into the pillows like candle wax, “Will you come with me and meet my parents?”

-

Jinpaichi Ego manages to glare down at you even though he’s sitting and you’re standing.

“It was never the plan to have two managers for this team.” He begins and your heart sends shockwaves of ice through your body.

This is it. He’s kicking you out.

“So while the boys are getting ready for their game today, I have to decide which one of our dear managers I want to keep. I have only one question for you, but I’ll give you a little context.” He smiles and your heart beats so fast and loud, you wonder if he can hear it.

“Today we’re playing against a team of Star Players. I won’t mention their names but since I know you’ve been a soccer fan for quite some time, I can assure you that you’ve always dreamed of meeting them one day. It wasn’t that easy to get them to agree to a game, but I managed to lure them in. Here’s the catch. They will leave with one of our managers, who I praised highly. Now I’m going to ask you your question. Will you be egoistic and go for the best team or will you stay where you are?”

Your mind is racing. Your time with Ego has been significantly shorter than those of the boys but you’ve learned one thing… He often says one thing and means the other.

Does he really want an egoistic manager? Shouldn’t those whose job it is to care about the team be selfless in nature? Also, he didn’t specifically mention that the best team would be the opposing team. With his confidence, he surely meant that the best team would be the Blue Lock team. But what if you misunderstood?

“What’s your answer?” Ego asks and you ball your hands into fists, clench them so hard you can feel your fingernails digging into your skin.

“I want to stay with Blue Lock.”

“Explain your reasoning.”

“I…” You swallow thickly. “I care about this team. And I think they have it in them to be the best team, so why would I settle for a different team?” 

Ego’s eyes widen and you wonder if he’s just furrowed his brows, hidden from your eyes by his bangs. You shouldn’t have phrased it as a question.

“I believe you mean you want to stay with Reo Mikage.”

Your heart stops cold. Your mouth is so dry you can’t unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth. 

“If you have nothing left to say, you can go.” 

“I…” You cough, try to gather at least some semblance of self-control. “Thank you.” You bow deeply. “For my time here.”

Ego stays quiet, a weird look in his eyes. He doesn’t speak up, and you shuffle out of the room, doing everything you can to keep from crying.

-

Hisako’s sitting on her bed when you enter your shared room, playing something on her phone.

You know she’d been with Ego before you and her unaffected mood is like a kick in the gut.

Ego probably already knew he’d keep her. 

You quietly start to pack.

“Oh,” Hisako’s voice stops you in your tracks. “Did Ego say something when we’re going to leave?”

You shake your head and unclench your teeth to speak. “He didn’t but I… it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Right, right. Who do you reckon we’ll get to manage? Do you think we’ll play the Japan U-20 again?” She’s twirling her hair around her finger, her eyes locked on the wall as she’s thinking. “I wouldn’t mind massaging Oliver Aiku’s legs.”

You freeze in your movement. 

“Did you… Do you want to manage the other team?”

“Of course.” Hisako has mastered sounding like she’s smarter than you whenever she talks. But you might as well just be the only one hearing that. “Blue Lock is about striving to be the best. Who would I be not offering myself to manage the best?”

You don’t answer but she’s already caught on.

“Don’t tell me you said you wanted to stay where you are!”

“I…” You start and close your mouth again.

“Oh, what’s that?” Hisako’s behind you in a heartbeat. Her closeness unnerves you, but you don’t want to be rude. Your eyes race through the room, trying to pick up on something out of order.

“Is that one of Reo’s hair ties?”

You go rigid at her words, watch her pick up one of the distinct purple hair ties he had gifted you a few weeks ago. 

“It’s mine.” You rip it from her hands and clutch it to your chest.

Her eyes widen for a moment before she laughs, almost toppling forward with the force of it.

“Oh, poor you.” She stretches out her hand to ruffle your hair. “It’s okay to have a Crush on your players, but you can’t steal their stuff.”

She’s still laughing as she steps away from you again to take a seat on her bed.

Overhead, the speaker cracks to life.

“Girls, we’re leaving in twenty minutes. Please pack all your belongings and meet us at the entrance.”

Hisako huffs. “Twenty minutes? Well, I suppose you can help me pack since you’re finished with your stuff already.” 

You nod, glad that she seems to have forgotten about Reo.

“Oh, and make sure to give back his hair tie,” Hisako winks at you as she grabs her duffel bag, “I would hate to have to interfere.”

-

It’s weird to see Hisako’s back on the field, to not have her talk so much nobody’s asking you questions.

You’re constantly on the move, handing Bachira a bottle of water, getting Barou a new towel, avoiding Reo… You barely have time to take in the other team but when you do, you’re taken aback. 

You heard about the match against Japan U-20. It had been the main reason for you to apply for the manager position. It must have shaken up the sport because on the other side of the field is the National Team. All of them are adult men in their prime. 

And Ego is nowhere to be seen.

No wonder your team is so tense. This could very well end in a disaster.

“How are we even going to win this?” Isagi voices your terror. 

“He wouldn’t let us play if Ego didn’t believe we could do this.” Bachira, always the optimist, barely manages to keep up Isagi’s spirit. 

Your own worries move to the back as you take in the team.  These boys might not always be the easiest to get along with but you believe in them. You believe in Reo. 

“I…” The word leaves your mouth before you realize it. All eyes snap up to you and you feel your knees wobble. Oh no. You hate it when people look at you when you talk.

Somehow you manage to lock onto Reo’s kind eyes, on the vibrant shade of purple of his hair and the curl of his nose as he waits for you to continue.

“... believe in you.” You croak out, wringing your hands. Now that the words are out, it’s a little easier to continue talking.

“If I’d have to choose to manage the best team in the world or Blue Lock, I’d have to choose Blue Lock. There’s no other team as good as you.”

You’re too focused on the slow pull of Reo’s lips to see him coming.

When Ego stars clapping behind your back, you jump away in surprise.

“Well said, Manager. Now, you’ve heard her. I didn’t bring you here to be unsure of your abilities. I brought you here to show them that you’ve got what it takes. You’ve trained under me, you won’t fail. Listen up, I’ll only go over this once.”

-

“Reo. You’re out.” Ego’s voice is cold and careless. You’re standing next to him, muscles tensed from head to toe. You have to fight everything in you not to jump to Reo’s side.

He’d been the focus of some intense defense during the last quarter and one foul had brought him to the floor. You suspected that under the ice pack his knee was turning all shades of blue and purple.

“No! I’m good! I can still play!”

Ego turns his dark eyes to you. “Manager? Tell your boyfriend to listen to his trainer.”

You gasp but no air reaches your lungs. 

Someone asks “What?!” and Rin rolls his eyes, calling all of this “Annoying.”

Reo’s eyes are wide open, his jaw slack.

You manage to take in a raspy breathe, than another.

“I…” You start, blinking to get rid of the fog. You swallow hard. “If Reo says he can still play, he can play.”

Reo snaps up as if pulled by an invisible string. 

Ego takes a long breathe out throug his nose before he huffs.

“Alright. It’s your decision. If he hurts himself, you’re going to be responsible for it.”

You don’t dare to look at Ego or anyone else. There’s confidence in Reo’s eyes and you nod, forcing yourself to stay as calm as you can possibly be.

-

Blue Lock wins.

You tell yourself that you’re not surprised. It had been a tight squeeze at some point, like it often is, and there are half-moon-shaped red marks on the heels of your hands from squeezing too hard. 

But Blue Lock wins and Reo comes running, grabbing you by the waist and lifting you like you weigh nothing, pressing you into him like he’s not just sweated out half the ocean.

“Get a room!” Someone rumbles behind you but you’re laughing.

If Ego kicks you out today, this will make a worthwhile memory. 

“Good job, my diamonds in the rough.” Ego drawls, looking over the boys with a fondness in his eyes you can’t have imagined. “This will teach them what they’re up against.”

“Uh…” Someone says behind you and you turn to see Hisako.

You admire her confidence even as her eyes flicker over you and Reo and her brows furrow for a second.

“I’m sorry.” Ego’s voice is too nice to be genuine. A shiver runs down your spine at the sound. “This is no longer your team.”

“But they don’t need a Manager outside of this game.” Hisako points out. “They just told me. I’m…”

“No longer wanted at Blue Lock. You can leave.”

Hisako’s mouth is wide open and you feel bad for her until she screeches like a banshee.

“What about her?!” She points a finger at you. “How’s she allowed to stay? She basically never talks!”

“Last I checked talking isn’t a requirement for being a Manager.” Reo quips nonchalantly. 

“Must have messed that up.” Bachira offers sweetly. “Cause all you ever do is talk.”

Hisako turns practically magenta and opens her mouth, but Ego is faster. 

“Leave.” His voice leaves no room for argument. “Before I make you.”

-

Your hands holding the tray shake from nerves but you manage to press the button that opens the door.

When you step inside, Bachira hollers your name.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, bounding over to you.

“Reo invited me.” You mumble, looking for him in the crowd.

To your surprise, Kunigami has him in a headlock, ruffling his hair. Next to him is Chigiri, doing a poor impersonation for you.

“But Mr. Ego! I believe in my boyfriend who I love! If he says he’ll win against the National team all by himself, he’ll do it.”

“I didn’t say that!” You disagree and Chigiri snaps out of it, having the decency to blush a little.

“Sorry, Manager-chan!” He laughs.

“We just have to teach this punk some manners.” Kunigami declares. “Has a girlfriend and doesn’t even tell anyone.”

“That’s none of your business!” Reo huffs out and manages to break free. He walks over to you, smile lighting up his face as he pulls you into the circle.

“Sit next to me, okay?”

“Not fair!” Bachira whines. “Manager-chan has the best food on her tray.”

“We all share!” Reo scolds and slaps away a hand that’s moving towards your plate of Takoyaki. 

And they do. A piece of everything lands on your plate that never seems to get emptier until you realize that Reo steals food from everyone, slyly putting it onto your plate.

“Stop it.” You hiss and knock your shoulder into his. “I’m going to burst.”

“No such thing.” He says and drops another piece of steak on your plate.

You try to glare before you get distracted by something you’d been craving ever since you got here.

“Oh, is someone eating that pickled radish?” You point at the little bowl. “I love those.”

Laughter rings through the room. It doesn’t feel like it’s at your expense but you still wonder what it was that you said that was so funny.

“By the way…” Barou clears his throat and pins you down with a glare. “I wanted to say sorry.”

Someone gasps and you can’t hold it against them. 

You swallow, feel the warmth of Reo next to you and the fullness of your belly, how a day filled with excitement has made you tired. You smile.

“I forgive you.” You pause for a second, take a breath. “But if you ever say something like that again, I’ll slap you!”

There’s a lot of laughter after that. Like when Nagi drapes himself over your shoulder, asking if you want to be his girlfriend too - and declaring a relationship too much work when you explain why that won’t be possible. 

At some point the space between yawns turns so short you can barely talk and Reo pulls you up.

“I’m going to walk you to your room,” he declares, pulling you from the boys that make exaggerated kissing noises.

His thumb rubs over the back of your hand as you stumble along. 

Just one corner away from your room he pulls you close and stops to press a kiss to your mouth, to edge of your jawline, the curve of your neck.

“I love you.” Reo mumbles, his breath washing over you. 

“I love you.” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck.

In a way this reminds you of the beginning of you two, alone in a hallway, sharing secrets.

But this is no longer the beginning and there’s no end in sight.

@shoulmate

[blakeswritingimagines]

4:13 pm

You had been absent-minded all day which was normal for you except when your eyes trailed over Nico's large frame, biting down on your lower lip as your head tilted once more letting your eyes linger deep in thought. Before snapping back up to his face as you grew confused, having not heard a word, he just spoke to you. "I'm sorry, Nico, what'd you say?". "You alright, babe? You were totally staring at me. Did you hear a word I said?" He asked as he noticed the faraway look in your eyes knowing that if he played his cards right you'd be needy and melting under his touch, slowly shaking your head as you bit down on your lower lip again feeling bad that your thoughts about him had wandered off. Causing you to lose focus again, "No, I'm sorry, I was thinking about something." You spoke with a shrug trying to downplay what you had just been thinking about as if shy about it suddenly. Laughing as he held you close "Yeah that's what I thought. I think it's cute, though, whenever you do that. Now…" He leaned down whispering in your ear "…what were you thinking about? Tell me~" Leaning into his hold as you wrapped your arms around him, smiling up at him, enjoying the sound of his laughter. Clearing your throat as you shook your head attempting to hide in his chest thinking this moment could pass until you shivered due to how his voice sounded in your ear, looking down at the ground with a pout realizing he wasn't about to let up and let this go as you shrugged and mumbled out the answer not letting him properly hear your response. He laughed and lifted your chin. "What was that? I can't hear you. You weren't thinking like….dirty thoughts about me or anything, were you?" He smirked. Pouting more as he forced you to look up at him but made no attempts to look away again, only to tighten your hold on him. "It's not my fault you always look so good, Nico." Feeling yourself become flustered but rolled your eyes as you started to focus on and play with the chain around his neck instead as you answered the question "I was thinking about, you know you maybe….spitting into my mouth?". "Oh? Sounds like some interesting thoughts there, don't you think?" He gave a teasing grin then pulled you closer. "How about this. Come closer, just in front of my lips. I have something to show you." "I'm always thinking something about you, baby." You spoke honestly but normally said nothing about it, feeling your breath hitch in your throat as you looked up at him meeting his eyes as you slowly nodded your head leaning closer without hesitation then let out a soft whimper as you felt him tenderly pry your mouth open with his thumb. He took a breath letting a single, cold breath hit over your bottom lip, and then let a thick and gooey spit drip out of his lips right onto your tongue "Hmm…it seems like my spit tastes like heaven to you." He teased before kissing you.

[hurpdurpburps]

Otherside Picnic Manga Yuri Club Special Story 6 English Translation

SPOILER WARNING: Takes place immediately after the events of File 6 - Resort Night at the Beach of the End in Vol 2 of the novels.

Written by: Miyazawa Iori

Translated by: @hurpdurpburps

-

Chapter 6: Ishigaki Island, A Dazed Vacation [1]

The hotel room was air-conditioned and comfortable.

It was mid-afternoon, with the sun almost directly overhead. Although the glaring sunlight outside our windows was so bright that it was almost painful, it didn’t reach the inside of the room. With the lights off, the room felt dim, as if cut off from the rest of the world.

We were in a hotel room at a resort on Ishigaki Island.

Toriko and I were laying on a large bed, dazed.

We’d barely escaped the beach on the Otherside that we’d wandered into from the outskirts of Naha, and ended up on the faraway island of Ishigaki. On the verge of a mental breakdown, we’d impulsively fled to a resort hotel on the island in search of a place to relax.

The walk-in rates for our room was expensive, but I wasn’t in a position to point that out. We were in desperate need of some rest and refreshment.

We were doing fine immediately after our return from the beach on the Otherside, but as time passed and the tension that had been building up for so long was released, our condition deteriorated.

I suppose you could consider it a state of collapse. The shock we’d experienced from the Otherside was probably too much to bear. Somehow we had managed to check in, but I barely remembered anything afterwards. I was sure we’d entered the room and collapsed onto the bed... I couldn't remember anything after that. Everything felt like a fragmented dream, but I most likely simply blacked out.

It was already late morning when I woke up... After visiting the bathroom and drinking some water, I returned to bed, neither speaking nor thinking about anything.

Although it would’ve been more accurate to say I wasn’t capable of thinking about anything. A few hours had passed since then before I was finally able to take stock of our situation and put it into words.

"Are you awake?" I asked, my voice husky.

Toriko groaned in response as she stared at the ceiling.

"Good morning."

"Mmmm…" Toriko cleared her throat and repeated herself. "Good morning..."

"Are you going to sleep a little longer?"

"Dunno..."

And that was the end of our conversation.

We continued laying in bed, dazed. Toriko was on her back, staring at the ceiling. I rested my head against the headboard on a pillow, looking at the wall across us.

I could hear the gentle sound of waves beyond the windows.

Occasionally, I could hear people's voices coming from somewhere outside. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but they seemed to be laughing happily.

Come to think of it, we were at a resort. If we got up and went downstairs, there’d surely be tons of fun stuff to do.

And yet here we were, simply lazing in our room, wasting our time away in the shade and air conditioning, doing nothing. I knew better, but had no desire to do anything at all.

Depending on how you look at it, this might actually be the most extravagant way to spend time at a resort - staying put in a comfortable place, resting our body and mind, in a tropical location [2]…

Little by little, I could feel my ability to think return, but it was still a far cry from my normal state of being. Just remembering the scene on the beach, that deep blue sky above our heads-

I suddenly felt faint, and when I had finally regained consciousness, the clock had moved forward by about twenty minutes.

This is no good, I have to stop thinking about it. It’s bad for my brain.

I shook my head and lowered my gaze.

At some point, Toriko had decided to use my thigh as a pillow. Her long hair spread out messily on the sheets. She was sleeping on her side, so I couldn't see her face.

Perhaps in contrast with the bright sunlight outside, the inside of the hotel room was tinged with blue, as if it’d been passed through a filter. Toriko's golden hair appeared dull in the desaturated scene around us, and it felt as if I’d stumbled into a tranquil scene from a movie.

Without thinking, I reached out and stroked Toriko's head.

Toriko made no reaction. Facing away from me, she accepted my touch as if it were the most natural thing to do.

I had the sudden realisation that we’d missed our college classes, but I suppose it couldn’t be helped.

It was impossible for us to return right away, due to both time and distance.

I didn’t feel like rushing home immediately. Neither of us had recovered yet.

How many days did we intend to stay when we checked in?

We haven't been asked to check out by this point, so I don't think It’s just one night.

I'll confirm it later... It’s fine for now. I don't have the energy to think about such things.

But I'm starting to get hungry-

As if on cue, I heard Toriko's stomach growl just as the thought crossed my mind.

I waited until I had the energy to speak, then said, "You must be hungry."

"Mmn…" Toriko replied.

"Do you want to eat something?"

"Where...?"

“Dunno. The hotel must have a restaurant or something, right?"

"Or room service…"

"That sounds good too." My stomach started to growl just as I said that.

This time, it was Toriko’s turn to say it. “You must be hungry.”

The both of us burst into a fit of laughter.

It seemed strange that our stomachs were the first to complain, even though we hadn't fully recovered yet.

TL Notes

General note: I adopted a more 'literary' prose style to match the tone of the novels. Hence, the translation in this series will be significantly more liberal than my usual analytical posts. Feel free to ask me anything.

[1] The title of this short story is 石垣島、呆然のリゾート, which can be translated literally as “Ishigaki Island, Stunned Resort”, which makes no sense, so I made a more liberal interpretation.

[2] The term used here is 南国, which refers to Southern regions of Japan such as Wakayama, Kōchi, Kyushu and Okinawa, or even Hawaii and Guam in a 南洋幻想 context. Anyways, the gist of it is that due to the ‘tropical island’ connotations that come with 南国, I decided to translate this line as such.

List of Yuri Club's Otherside Picnic Short Stories [my translations]:

1. Shinjuku, The First Meet-Up (新宿、初めての待ち合わせ)

2. Hasshaku-sama Epilogue (八尺様エピローグ)

3. Ochanomizu, The First Afterparty (お茶の水、初めての打ち上げ)

4. Ikebukuro, Cafe Meal For One (池袋、ひとりカフェ飯)

5. Naha, After The Big Job (那覇、大仕事の後)

6. Ishigaki Island, A Dazed Vacation (石垣島、呆然のリゾート)

7. Mercedes AMG, The Backseat (メルセデスAMG、後部座席)

8. Otherworldly Elevator, On The Way Back (異世界エレベーター、帰路)

9. Kozakura Mansion, Pizza Party (小桜屋敷、ピザパーティー)

10. TBD

11. TBD

[deathbystero]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 - 𝐃𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐝

𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 - 𝐃𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐝 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐀𝐠𝐞 (𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝟏𝟖𝟗𝟒) - 𝟏𝟗 𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐧 - 𝟏𝟖𝟕𝟓

Born in the late 1800s, David grew up as an only child on a small impoverished farm alongside his mother after his father abandoned the family. He left no note, no warning of his departure, just the mere scraps of his belongings and a small amount of money. David was forced to take on the work of caretaker in his place and was robbed of his childhood in favour of work. His mother had been unwell for quite some time, spending most of her days lying in bed or sleeping. At times she would look so frail, so helpless, that her son’s heart would ache with sadness and pity. He spent each day trying his best to keep her fed, to keep her alive, but the faraway, dazed look in her eyes never wavered and David began to wonder if he was doing enough.  He tried everything in his power to get her well once again, spending what little money they had remaining on medicine, but every effort seemed futile, as though all attempts to help his own mother were vain.  

Even so, she continued to decline steadily and one day, when her breathing began to fail completely, David finally gave up hope.  

He packed his meagre belongings and decided to leave home without saying goodbye, before any other family members caught wind of his plight. His heart was heavy with regret as he boarded the first train that would take him as far from home as possible. He didn’t know where he was going or what he would do with himself once there, only that it felt  necessary that he escape and never turn back. 

The journey passed by in a blur and when the train finally came to a stop, David was disoriented and lost amidst the crowd of unfamiliar faces. Guilt ate at him as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings, but even as he scanned the station platform, seeking out some sign of familiarity despite never before leaving the comfort of the farm, he was met with nothing more than the bustling crowd of strangers and confusion. 

He wandered about the streets aimless until nightfall approached and exhaustion crept it’s way into every muscle. As the sky darkened, David found himself sitting in an alley far from the crowds, back against the rough brick of a rundown warehouse, his face buried in his knees as he tried desperately to stem the flow of tears that brimmed his eyes. His thoughts turned back towards home, where his mother lay ,and he wondered if anybody had found her yet. Had anybody even bothered to look?  Would they ever? 

The air turned cold and clouds covered the dim glow of the moon. David shivered, trying to conserve whatever warmth he could find against the biting evening air, shrinking into his threadbare coat, one that had belonged to his father before he left. The garment did little to protect him from the harsh winds and he wondered how many nights he’d survive if this continued. 

After some hours, the stars began to peek  through the smatterings of dark clouds overhead. It was just beginning to sprinkle, and the raindrops glistened against the pavement like diamond dust. The droplets fell gently onto David’s head as he stared upwards at the endless expanse of stars above, his mind filled with thoughts, both of life and of death. Was he dying right now? Was this it for him? He was just going to die here and there might be someone who cared. If he lived through today, he'd have nothing. He was alone on the road to nowhere.  Nobody cared. No one was coming for him.  Nobody would miss him.  Nobody loved him. 

Footsteps sounded on the wet pavement somewhere up the alleyway ahead and David froze, unsure whether he should stay seated or get up and flee. Did it matter? He had nothing for them to take but the sparse belongings in his bag and his coat. He would freeze to death out here anyway so he might as well get it over with. 

He slowly unfolded from his crouched position and lifted his head toward the source of the sound, watching as a figure advanced toward him, their movements slow and measured. David tensed as the figure drew closer, prepared to run if need be, however the person slowed and then stopped a few paces from where he sat. 

“Are you okay?” Asked a voice, smooth and rich like honey, but laced with an edge that made David shiver. He nodded stiffly. 

“Fine.” His words came out more of a croak and he cleared his throat in an attempt to rid himself of the huskiness. “I’m fine, I don’t know…” He trailed off, his mind reeling with a thousand questions and concerns that he couldn't begin to process. 

The stranger  stepped forwards and crouched in front of him, studying him for a long moment. The pale moonlight reflected off of his glasses and cast dancing shadows around him as he surveyed the boy in front of him closely. David shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, a strong metallic smell permeating the air about him. 

Eventually the stranger offered his hand, smiling slightly in greeting. “I’m Max.” David stared blankly for several moments before reaching out tentatively to shake his hand. 

“David,” he managed to force out in reply, still confused, before pausing. “Do… Do you live in this neighbourhood?” The man laughed. 

“No,” Max responded in amusement, “Not exactly.”

“Oh…” A silence hung between them, the sound of a gentle breeze whistling through the empty streets filling the gap. David could feel his skin prickle with nervousness, something about the man’s presence unnerved him. Max's smile was warm and inviting, yet David was unsure whether it was genuine or just an attempt to put him at ease before he robbed him of his possessions and murdered him. It was rather difficult to say. 

“What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?” The question broke David's musings and prompted him to finally turn his attention to the man in front of him. 

“Walking.” He replied shortly. 

Max titled his head quizzically, “Nobody goes out walking at such a late hour unless they're on their way somewhere, but even then nobody would dare come out into the city at this time of night unless something was wrong. Especially not down this alleyway.” 

David looked back at the ground and shrugged, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Well... It's just nice to walk,” he said quietly.

Max made a noise in his throat, something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “You've got no home, do you David?” He asked gently.  

David shook his head, feeling a slight sting of betrayal in his chest.  “No, I guess not…” He admitted, cheeks burning in shame.  He was too tired to lie to this stranger. “I'm not really sure what I’m doing. My family's gone and I don’t have much to my name anymore.” He paused, staring intently at a crack in the road that he could have sworn hadn't been there earlier, fingers fiddling with the frayed ends of his shirt sleeve nervously. “I'm just wandering.” The statement hung awkwardly in the night air. 

Max hummed thoughtfully, “Come with me.” He stated suddenly, rising from his kneeling position and turning to look directly at David. “I think I might have something that can help you. Get you out of this mess.” He paused and the blonde frowned. 

“What?” He questioned.

Max smiled warmly, offering David a hand to help him to his feet. “Follow me.” He mused. “Follow and join me, David.”

That same night, David became a member of Max's little family.

A/N - I wasn't originally going to post this but it was just sitting in my drive and it felt wasteful to not do anything with it. Obviously, this post and the others to come are my own take on each one of the boy's lives before they were turned and are in no way canon, they are simply silly little stories I came up with over the christmas break.

[bajistadiamond]

Yuu and the Magical Power of Songs

Yuu Singer, Scarabia (Arabian Nights)

Yuu was very happy to be in Scarabia (Even if he didn't remember saying yes to Jamil's invitation).

Jamil on the other hand didn't know if he was right to bring Yuu. He had hypnotized him into being another witness in Kalim's "madness and tyranny", but now he was regretting it himself.

If per se, Kalim is a sun. Together with Yuu that force of light was multiplied by a thousand.

Jamil was grateful that Yuu was a good cook and more focused than his personal karma.

The first night was turning out to be a lot of fun, even Jamil was enjoying himself.

Kalim was talking to Yuu.

The surnamed Asim didn't know why, but ever since he saw Yuu at the entrance ceremony he felt a connection. As if his magic told her to protect him. But he kept it to himself, maybe it was nothing, which was why he hadn't told Jamil.

Kalim was still sad that the other had not joined the music club.

But Yuu didn't want to, even though she had gotten better at controlling her power. He didn't feel safe using it on a stage with multiple people watching.

Kalim then excitedly suggested that he sing something for them, he swore to him that if anyone made fun of him he would punish him (Yuu thought that Kalim would just send him to a corner).

Yuu accepted and positioned himself in the middle of the windows that opened onto the balcony.

Yuu thought of a song he could sing and one of his favorite songs from Aladdin came to mind. Which belonged to his family before a distant relative sold the rights to that creation to Disney.

Which, unknowingly, was a song that had been created some years ago by her great-grandmother in that world.

Jamil was also focused on time. It was almost time to hypnotize Kalim when…

~ Oh, imagine a land, it's a faraway place ~ ~ Where the caravan camels roam ~

All of Scarabia looked at Yuu as flutes could be heard in the background playing a mysterious and ascending melody. As she sang, Yuu moved her hands gracefully to add drama to the lyrics.

~ Where you wander among every culture and tongue ~ ~ It's chaotic, but, hey, it's home ~

Viper was speechless. Whenever Yuu sang something in the depths of his being, he told her to use the aforementioned to be free and another thing he didn't understand, but he always ignored him. At that time, he wanted to pay attention to that voice even though he didn't understand its meaning.

~ When the wind's from the East ~ ~ And the sun's from the West ~

Everyone felt a warm wind that came from nowhere and everyone could see that the stars in the sky shone brighter. Yuu ever since he was a child hated the fact that he couldn't tell that Arabian Nights was created by his great-grandmother. But every time he sang it he felt an enormous warmth, he felt at home every time he sang it.

~ And the sand in the glass is right ~ ~ Come on down, stop on by ~ ~ Hop a carpet and fly ~

Suddenly, the rugs that those who were sitting on began to float. They all gasped in surprise, but laughed with delight and continued to enjoy the moment. In itself, they already had a hard time with the attitude their dorm leader was having. Yuu felt the magic flow through him and taking advantage of it he led everyone on the carpets outside; Although he was afraid of dropping someone, he put those worries aside when he saw that many had their pens ready in case of an emergency.

~ To another Arabian night ~

The note was so loud, it could have been heard even through the mirror. Yuu's rug was higher; from the perspective of the Scarabia students it seemed that Yuu touched the moon. Yuu's smile became more mischievous as he swayed his hips to the music that no one knew where he came from.

~ As you wind through the streets ~ ~ At the fabled bazaars ~ ~ With the cardamom-cluttered stalls ~

Kalim and Jamil felt that they had heard that song before. Kalim felt it more, wondering if he maybe he had known Yuu before from NRC or some relative… Jamil wanted to have Yuu to himself at that moment, the dance he made reminded him of the dancers at the parties in the Asim mansion. He knew that he was a servant, that was why he was planning Kalim's downfall, maybe he should use Yuu power to get the job done faster? No. Jamil didn't want his diamond in the rough to distrust him, he needed it…or rather he wanted it.

~ You can smell every spice ~ ~ While you haggle the price ~ ~ Of the silks and the satin shawls ~

The rugs moved across the deserted bedroom; the sands rose transforming everything into a bazaar. The lights, the colors, the aromas, nothing was missing. Jamil couldn't help but feel nostalgic.

~ Oh, the music that plays as you move through a maze ~ ~ In the haze of your pure delight ~

Many in the dorm were originally from the Land of Hot Sands, or as it was called the Scalding Sands worldwide. They felt a huge connection to the song.

~ You are caught in a dance ~ ~ You are lost in the trance ~

Yuu dances amazingly; every move was well timed. And she was getting excited, she was about to do something crazy that she hopes would work out as he planned.

~ Of another Arabian night ~

Yuu… jumped back. And everyone cried out in concern. Kalim instinctively tried to control the rug he was on forgetting that Yuu laa manipulated. The other students were about to use magic on him, when Yuu's rug moved quickly and wrapped him in a swirl of lights.

~ Arabian nights ~

And in the next instant, Yuu was back on the carpet, but wearing a beautiful white gown with sleeves made of lace and a gold headdress with rubies in her hair that sparkled in the moonlight.

~ Like Arabian days ~ ~ More often than not are hotter than hot ~ ~ In a lot of good ways ~ ~ Arabian nights ~

Everyone in Scarabia could only stare in awe as sparkles and wisps of gold came out of Yuu's hands transforming into dancers mimicking the same dance. But, everyone swayed their bodies to the rhythm of the song. Jalim only had eyes for Yuu; him for the first time he wanted something and would do anything to have it.

~ Like Arabian dreams ~ ~ This mystical land of magic and sand ~ ~ Is more than it seems ~

Grim just smirked at Yuu's spectacle. He loves Yuu's songs; he may always say that Yuu is his subordinate, but for Grim the human was his brother first and foremost. Even Yuu wanted him as such, so he and Yuu would be the most powerful wizard duo in Twisted Wonderland. And that was a promise or he stops calling himself Lord Grim.

~ There's a road that may lead you ~ ~ To good or to greed through ~

The sands moved creating a whirlwind that surrounded them all. The sky darkened as lightning flashed white and gold.

~ The power your wishing commands ~ ~ Let the darkness unfold or find fortunes untold ~

The whirlwind disappeared, but now there was a large tiger statue that Jamil recognized as the Sand Sorcerer's Cave of Wonders. Meanwhile, Yuu waved his hands to the sky. Her right hand glowed white and her left hand glowed purple and black.

~ Well, your destiny lies in your hands ~

Yuu then clasped his hands together causing the magic to coalesce and become a golden orb that he cradled in his hands. He lit up Yuu's face giving it a mysterious look when an unknown voice was heard.

~ Only one may enter here ~ ~ One whose worth lies far within ~

The sand monument's eyes glowed red, and its mouth gold. A shadow could be seen in the doorway; a shadow that Scarabia's students saw as the founder of their dorm.

~ A diamond in the rough ~

Yuu looked at Jamil when he said that sentence. The black-haired one felt very flattered by that. But, it is his opinion that the diamond was Yuu while he was a piece of coal. Jamil knew it, it was a snake as his last name described it, but he didn't see any other options he wanted freedom (and Yuu)... He didn't want to keep hiding his potential. The statue vanished and the sky cleared. The rugs were moved around the gardens and terraces of the bedroom.

~ Arabian nights ~ ~ Like Arabian days ~ ~ They seem to excite, take off and take flight ~ ~ To shock and amaze ~ ~ Arabian nights ~ ~ Neath Arabian moons ~ ~ A fool off his guard could fall and fall hard ~

The rugs floated back into the room and settled back into place as if they had never carried students feet off the ground in the desert. Yuu's rug descended much slower following the final rhythm of the song.

~ Out there on the dunes ~

Saying that, Yuu pointed to the vast desert behind the windows that opened onto the balcony. And then colored fireworks exploded in the sky. Ending the song.

Everyone stood up and applauded, others whistled with excitement at the incredible show and display of magic. Kalim was elated, and as he gave Yuu a hug he asked again if he was sure he didn't want to join the music club. Jamil looked at the sky forgetting for a few seconds all his problems and his plan. An Arabian Night without a doubt"

[ekafics]

THE WAVERING HEART

wanderer x reader x lyney

a thing i made for my communication class but why not post it? >:3

royalty au ; sfw [ i named scara kazeshi here >< ]

In a faraway kingdom, lived a young princess named [ y/n ]. A beauty in both mind and body, she was known far and wide for her kindness, charm, and intellect. Princess [ y/n ] possessed all great qualities for a queen and is destined to one day take her father's place on the throne. But there was a catch, [ y/n ] was still single. She needed a king to wed, to rule by her side and stand with her as she led the kingdom.

Does the princess not have anyone she fancies? Oh, that is very far off as the beautiful maiden finds herself in a position of great conflict— her affections have been drawn towards not one.. but two gentlemen!

Her heart is torn, her mind is at odds. She yearns for one man, yet her heart also beats for the other. Indeed, it is a situation that has left her in much distress. To add insult to injury, none of the two men who caught her interest met her family's strict expectations. One was a great and beloved magician, while the other was a wise wanderer. Princesses could only wed a prince or someone of noble descent.

[ y/n ]'s thoughts raced as she tossed and turned in bed, unable to fall asleep. Sighing, she sat up and rubbed her weary eyes. Her gaze fell on the window as the night sky was illuminated by a sparkling display of stars and a shining full moon. She lit her bedside candle and as the flame gave light to her room, her eyes landed on the beautiful vase containing a bundle of rainbow roses. Her cheeks reddened, recalling the giver of the gift— the one and only magician, Lyney.

The princess got up and walked towards the pretty flowers. Her eyes softened as she recalled the first time she had met the charming magician.

"How fortunate am I to have encountered such a remarkable flower out here in these meadowlands?"

Startled by the sound of the sudden voice, Princess [ y/n ] abruptly stood up from the bench and turned to face the mystery man. She swiftly brushed away tears and straightened her dress before meeting the kind gaze of the stranger. The stranger looked at her with awe, noticing her damp cheeks. Princess [ y/n ] lowered head trying to hide her face as the figure got closer to her.

The stranger was now mere inches from her, his stylish attire immediately capturing her attention. A top hat and an outfit adorned with intricate details, exaggerated his magician persona. However, it was the vibrant lavender of his eyes that held her gaze the most.

Before she even had time to react, the stranger's hands formed into a snapping gesture and a beautiful rose materialized between his fingers.The princess' eyes widened in surprise, her breath caught in her throat as she gazed at the beautiful flower. She was unsure whether to accept it or not. Sensing her hesitance, the stranger chuckled and gently took hold of her delicate hands.

"For you, mon cheri." The princess’ cheeks flushed but still managed to stammer a faint ‘thank you..’

"I am Lyney, Lyney the magician. It is truly a pleasure to meet you. I must say, you are even more beautiful up close.” He said, "Though I did not expect to meet you here outside all alone, especially since there's a banquet open to everyone hosted by the king.”

The princess fidgeted nervously with the rose's stem trying to think of a response. But her head was swimming with thoughts, and her heart was racing with excitement. Though the once sorrowful expression plastered on her face had disappeared the moment the magician appeared.

"Ah, I’m not a big fan… of big gatherings.." Princess [ y/n ] murmured softly and lowered herself onto the bench with a sigh. “My father is also trying to find me a suitable husband now that I am 21..” As she sat, Lyney took the moment to slide in beside her, sensing her unease.

"Would you allow me to stay here with you until you feel ready to return, my princess?" Lyney asked, his voice gentle. At his question, the princess' face lit up with enthusiasm and she eagerly nodded, getting closer to the magician. Lyney chuckled, finding himself flustered at their proximity.

"So, you're a magician, Mr. Lyney? I have never seen a magic show before." She sulked at the thought, remembering back when she was a kid how she saw a magic show poster and begged her father to take her, only to be turned away. “In fact, I don’t think he’d ever allowed me to go out and do fun stuff..”

Lyney's expression softened as he heard the princess' story, feeling a pang of sadness for her experiences. Seeing the frown on her face just breaks the magician’s heart, he was determined to give her the happiness she deserves.

"You don't have to wait for any show, my dearest princess." Lyney said, his tone low and husky. He took a deck of cards out of his jacket and began shuffling them in his hands.

He looked up at her, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’ll give you one. Right here, right now, I am the great magician Lyney after all!”

Princess [ y/n ]'s eyes widened in excitement at the idea, and she leaned in, her cheeks flushing with anticipation. Lyney was going to put on a magic show just for her. She couldn't believe how lucky she was to have met him, and her heart was racing with the thought of what magic tricks he might pull out of thin air. She sat, eager and ready, waiting for him to begin.

“Your own private and exclusive magic show, my princess.”

Ever since that day, the magician and the princes would see each other at least once a week in the meadow. They would stroll and admire the breathtaking flowers that surrounded them. Laughter was always shared in every circumstance they encountered. Every time they had to part ways, Lyney made sure to give the princess a rose as a symbol of his affection and love for her. The princess always blushed and smiled at this sweet gesture, unable to hold back her feelings for him.

The princess' eyes lingered on the precious flowers from Lyney, her fingers caressing the vibrant petals of the beautiful roses, she made sure to preserve them long and take good care of them. Not long afterwards, her gaze landed on an equally sentimental object - a finely crafted doll. The princess giggled and recalled the memories of the day when a certain wanderer had presented it to her.

Holding the doll close to her heart. Despite its small size, it felt as if it captured the warmth and affection of a certain wanderer in its soft embrace. A sense of nostalgia washed over her as she reminisced on that fateful day they had met.

“Princesses are supposed to have knights accompanying them.”

A voice said, making the 15-year-old Princess [ y/n ] look up from her crouching position to see a boy close to her age staring down at her. His indigo eyes put the rarest amethyst gems to shame. He had a palette of blue and white mixed together, a striking similarity to the blue sky. She sniffled and wiped away the tears that had fallen from her eyes, suddenly hearing her empty stomach rumble.

“I… I was following a rabbit but I didn’t think I’d end up this far from my kingdom..” She stammered, her voice hoarse from crying. “You can’t blame me! Everything looks the same out here in the forest… anyone would be confused and lost.”

The boy sighed and slightly rolled his eyes, but his hands quickly reached out to help her up. “I can accompany you back, but it might take a while.” Princess [ y/n ] let out a breath of relief as she grabbed the boy’s hand and let him help her to her feet.

“I’m Princess [ y/n ]! Delighted to meet you!” She curtsied, trying her best to appear royal even in her sorry state.

The boy chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. I know who you are.” He said, waving a hand dismissively. “Let’s get going.”

“May I have your name?”

“…. No..”

Princess [ y/n ]’s heart sank at his dismissive attitude. The boy next to her had the audacity not to introduce himself, and she couldn’t understand why. She had always been surrounded by people who treated her with utmost respect and this boy’s attitude made her feel like she was nothing more than a pest to him. She stopped walking and started to sulk, feeling more tears well up.

The boy noticed the princess wasn’t beside him already. He looked back and saw her with crossed arms and furrowed eyebrows. He groaned, wondering if all princesses were this stubborn. Why did his name matter to her anyway?

“It’s Kazeshi. Are you happy now?”

The princess clapped her hands in victory as she was able to get the boy’s name. She gave him a grin and started walking besides him again, feeling proud of herself. Kazeshi let out a defeated sigh.

"Do you think my father has forgotten about me? Or worse... abandoned me?" She asked the boy beside her. He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and replied, "No. I don't think so. I'm pretty sure they've started a search group already. Like you said, this forest is pretty big." Kazeshi pulled out a snack from his travel bag and handed it to the princess. "Here, eat these for now."

Princess [ y/n ]'s worried expression changed to relief as the boy's words registered in her mind. She was grateful for the Kazeshi’s help and kindness, even though he seemed a bit harsh at first. She gave him a thankful smile and ate the snack from his travel bag. Throughout their walk, Princess [ y/n ] could only think about how lucky she was to find the boy in the forest.

The duo had finally reached the entrance of the kingdom, having taken almost a day and a half to return. Princess [ y/n ] greeted her fellow subjects, relieved to be back in her home. She turned to face Kazeshi and gave him a grateful hug. Kazeshi returned the gesture, feeling awkward as he tried to navigate the moment.

"Thank you, Kazeshi! I will speak to my father and let him know about your help. I'm sure he'll reward you for getting me back home safely!" Princess [ y/n ] said excitedly. She held onto Kazeshi's hand and led him towards her home, the royal castle.

Kazeshi’s cheeks slightly tingled as she felt [ y/n ]’s soft and warm hands grab his, though he quickly dismissed the feeling. “There’s no need, I’ll be on my way soon. I am a wanderer afterall”

Princess [ y/n ] stopped her tracks at Kazeshi's words, her expression changed to one of confusion followed by sadness. "Wait.. you're leaving?" She asked, a frown forming on her face.

Kazeshi tried to say something, but his words caught in his throat. He had no idea why he felt a pang of sadness in his chest when he saw the sad look on Princess [ y/n ]'s face. They had only known each other for a day, and yet, he couldn't help but feel a sense of attachment to the princess. He hates to admit it but he enjoyed every bit of their journey together and he loved her company.

"Well...this is very upsetting but—"

"I'll visit." He cut her off, surprising himself with his own words. The princess' eyes widened in surprise as she tilted her head, unsure of what to make of his statement.

"'I... I'II visit you often," Kazeshi continued, feeling a sense of nervousness wash over him. "If you'd let me of course.”

The princess smiled, the biggest she had ever smiled. She let go of his hand and gave him a tight hug, her laughter filling the air. "Of course I'll let you visit often!" She exclaimed, delight etched onto her face.

"You'd better!" She added as a playful threat, her eyes twinkling with joy.

As promised, Kazeshi frequently visited the princess and together they walked around the kingdom, explored new places, tried new experiences. The princess always looked forward to their outings, and she even started sneaking out of the kingdom to accompany Kazeshi on his short travels. After these said travels, Kazeshi would always bring her back home safe and sound.

Years went by and the princess celebrated her 18th birthday. Kazeshi presented her a doll that had an uncanny resemblance to him, made with love and dedication. The doll had all of Kazeshi's features, from his purple hair down to the colors of his clothes. It was like she had a mini version of the wanderer beside her, and she found herself looking at it with admiration and affection.

“Aww this is so cute! It’s like a mini you!” Princess [ y/n ] giggled. She held the doll up and spun it around holding its small arms with her fingers. She hugged the doll tight against her chest, feeling a warmth that she never felt before.

As the princess spun the doll around, Kazeshi couldn't help but admire her figure. The gown she was wearing hugged her body nicely, accentuating her curves and her hair was styled perfectly to accentuate her features. Kazeshi coughed and turned his gaze to the side, a bright pink dusting his cheeks as he caught himself staring at the princess.

“I’m glad you like—“

“Like it? I LOVE IT!”

His face softened hearing that she loved his humble gift, and the fact that it was made entirely with love and crafted with his own hands added an extra layer of sweetness to the moment. He was pleased to see the princess excited and happy but he knew that their evening would soon come to an end. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, trying to find the right words to tell her the news. "I don't want to ruin your special night princess, but…”

The atmosphere suddenly changed as the princess clutched at the doll. “But…?”

"But I have been given a duty. Something that might disrupt our time seeing each other. I won't be totally gone, but I don't know when I'll be able to visit or stay with you again."

The princess’ mood shifted to a more bright emotion as she dismissed the now young man’s words. “Oh I don’t mind! The longest time you didn’t visit was like what? A month? I’m sure I can wait for 2 or even 3 months!”

Kazeshi’s breath hitched, feeling bittersweet from the princess’ enthusiasm. “This.. might even take me years.”

Princess [ y/n ]’s optimistic demeanor changed in an instant as she heard Kazeshi's words. “Y-years? Oh.”

Kazeshi let out a heavy sigh as he took a step closer to Princess [ y/n ]. He gently placed his hand on her wrist and pulled her closer to him. "Please don't be sad, I'll come back." Kazeshi said softly. "I always do, don't I?"

Princess [ y/n ] frowned, feeling Kazeshi wrap his hands around her body and a hand resting on the back of her head. She sighed, realizing that she was being childish. She knew that they weren't kids anymore, and this wasn't worth crying over. Or was it?

"I just never realized how much your presence meant to me until now." He had been a loyal friend and companion, and she couldn't imagine her life without him. [ y/n ] felt the warmth of Kazeshi's body against hers, and for a moment, she forgot about the impending reality.

Though, the thought of Kazeshi leaving her for a period of time stung a little. It was then she realized that she was just Kazeshi's dear friend— nothing more. Who was she to stop him?

Princess [ y/n ] clutched the doll tightly to her chest, feeling a sense of comfort wash over her. She missed Kazeshi's visits, it felt like an eternity since she last saw him. She couldn't help but wonder about their future. Where was he? When would he return? She didn't know since Kazeshi never mentioned anything to her but she hoped it would be soon.

Still, even if she longed for Kazeshi she couldn't deny the fact that Lyney had also captured her heart. His charms, his skills, and his kind nature were all traits she held in high regard. As she sat on her bed, lost in thought, a knock on the door interrupted her reverie. It was her personal maid, Melissa, who entered the room with a lamp and a tray of snacks. “I knew it, you’re up thinking about those two again huh?”

“Oh Melissa! What shall I do?” Princess [ y/n ]’s voice boomed as she laid her head on the maid’s lap. Melissa sweatdropped as she tried comforting the young lady. “Ah well, my mother always said that when you are torn between two men, you should choose the second one.” Princess [ y/n ] sat up and looked at Melissa with a puzzled look. “Why so?”

“If you truly loved the first man, your heart would never fall for the second one.”

END.

what you guys think!! feel free to comment! plus my requests are open but it might take a while for me to make them ><

stay safe, love you all !

[cupidzgf]

☁︎‎‎‧₊˚ EREN JEAGER - you celebrate eren's birthday in bed

contents: older eren, no titans au (that's why he's happy in this 😭), fluff. that's it

The sun peeked through the curtains, dazzling rays of light dancing over the sleeping figure beside you. He's curled in the thin bed sheets, his muscle-crafted back glimmering under the morning sun, slow, even breaths leaving his parted lips. He looked peaceful like this, like the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders, with messy brown hair tousled across the nape of his neck.

Eren was the epitome of beauty and all things divine. The very definition of such elegant words- the color in black and white. Even then, they did nothing to justify the sincerity in his smile pulling taught at his cheeks, the mirth marred in his voice whenever he teased, or the ever-creeping darkness in his eyes when they happened to gain a faraway sheen. It was those very things that no poetry or painting could ever capture. Only the memory seared into the back of your eyelids could merely hope to do it justice.

"Hey," his voice rasped, a low and rough sound, "What are you doin' up, sweetheart?"

You softly smiled, resting your chin on his chest while sleepy eyes blinked down at you, long, dark eyelashes framing the bluish/green of his sparkling irises. "Happy birthday."

He grinned, his vibrant eyes flashing in the morning light. Then, it twists into something mischievous as his hands latch onto your hips, pulling over his shirtless body so his mouth can find yours within seconds. His lips molded with yours in a passion that couldn't be rivaled and furious enough to send your head spinning. It takes a moment for you to gather your bearings before you lean in with equal vigor, letting him indulge in the pleasures of your body.

His kiss slips from your mouth, wet lips trailing down your jaw to your neck, where he makes a point to suckle the skin, tongue cruising over what you imagine was a blotchy purple hickey. His advancements do not falter, however, lips pressing and tongue swirling over various spots on your neck, leaving a dark splotch over your pulse point where you're whining into Eren's skin. He presses an apologetic kiss on the area once he's finished, his smile curling into a grin against your skin. You lift your head to get a better look at his reaction, finding him already staring at you with an expression shadowed by lust.

"Couldn't ask for a better present, wrapped up so pretty for me in these sheets. You're just begging to be opened, aren't you?" Your cheeks and nose are painted in a coloration vastly different from the rest of your skin, a low chuckle escaping his vocal cords at your embarrassment.

His eyes wander shamelessly down your body draped in nothing but blankets and a tee shirt, a murmur escaping his lips so silent you almost missed it. "Happy birthday to me."

You bury your face back into his torso to escape his reaction, and a hand rubs along the length of your spine in soothing circles as if to show you his appreciation. "I got you a present if you want it now."

"You spoil me, love," he chuckles, the sound reverberating in his chest before his voice falls to a hush, imploring you to take his following words to heart. "But there isn't anything I could want besides you."

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