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incendio22 · 1 year

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FOR THE HOPE OF IT ALL

Chapter 16: The Story of Another Sallow

During Christmas me, Ominis and Sebastian stayed at Hogwarts. Sebastian and Ominis because they don't have a family to go home to and me because I wanted to stay at Hogwarts with them. My parents were disappointed, but eventually gave in and allowed me to stay. The last month Ominis and I had spent lots of time trying to trace Anne Sallow's footsteps in order to find her whereabouts. She had done a very good job hiding, but we managed to track her down to Manor Cape. Both Ominis and I found it curious, since there weren't many residences in Manor Cape. Mainly abandoned castles and animal dens. Maybe that's the reason why she was almost impossible to track down.

A couple of days after Christmas, but still before the new year, Ominis and I decided to head off to Manor Cape. The professors were busy taking time to themselves and didn't really look out for the students in the same way they normally do, which made it a whole lot easier to sneak away from the castle for two days without being noticed. We only told Sebastian we were going to see Anne, but not where. It seemed to upset him, which was reasonable. He did, however, tell us to give Anne his best.

I put on the sweater Sebastian gave me for Christmas. It was a maroon knitted sweater and I absolutely adored it. He had explained that he found it funny, because 'I was the only Slytherin who looked good in red'. With his words in my head I put my hair into two braids and put on a hat. It was freezing outside and we would have to fly for several hours in order to get there. I had talked Imelda into letting Ominis borrow her broom. It was hard to convince her, since she had gotten it only a year ago and she wanted to take it with her home so she could practice over the holidays. However, here we were. Standing on the courtyard, getting ready to leave.

''Ominis.'' I begin. ''I know your wand helps you out with practically everything, but are you positive that it's safe for you to fly?''

''Relax, Y/n.'' He laughs. ''As long as you don't fly me into any danger, it will be alright.''

''I just had to ask. I mean, I wouldn't be able to fly if I couldn't see.'' I state the obvious.

''Well, I'm not on the quidditch team for a reason. But, I can get from point A to point B without any problems.'' He explains.

We take off and start our journey. It's snowing quite a lot, but the sun is shining which makes it look magical. Just like a picture, I think to myself. The sun is burning my eyes, but it also generates a small amount of heat which I'm thankful for.

By lunch we land and have one sandwich each. I try to explain to Ominis how beautiful the nature is, but you can only do so much with words. He tells me that he can see it by picturing it in his head, but of course that cannot possibly resemble the beauty that actually is.

Before the sun sets we arrive in Cape Manor. It's getting dark and cold so we find some shelter for the night before we seek out Anne tomorrow. Ominis lights a fire in order to keep us warm. Throughout the night we discuss several topics. Sebastian's healing process, my feelings towards him, Anne, the loss of Professor Fig. Ominis is clever and has many insightful thoughts.

''What do you think this prophecy means for us?'' I ask him.

I have been unable to process the actual meaning of the prophecy. The awful images flashing in it, the voice cold as ice freezing me into the core. The worst part is that we don't even know what it means for us, right here and right now.

''I don't know.'' Ominis' face looks almost camouflaged from the lights coming from the fireplace. ''But I fear that it might force me to reach out to my family.''

''I can only imagine how difficult that must be for you.'' I say sympathetically. ''How long ago did you cut them off?''

''After I begun my 2nd year at Hogwarts.'' His voice is low. This is obviously something that is bothering him and that he finds difficult speaking about. ''Ever since, I haven't had a family. I practically lived with Sebastian during summer. Which is why it was so hard for me watching him getting consumed by dark magic last year. I saw him revitalize my family's fate.''

''It must have been difficult. Cutting the cords with your family and having to fear about your best friend walking down the same path.'' I say in a soft voice.

''Oh, it was. But it's better this way, not having anything to do with my family.'' He says calmly. ''But it's also why I fear that this prophecy might mean that I have to see them again. Naturally, I have to do it if it means I can save the future from even more and darker wizards, but it will cost me a lot.''

I never even thought about it that way. To me, it was all about the future of the wizarding world. It never even occurred to me what it might cost for the people close to me. And I find it so altruistic that Ominis would reconnect with his family if it meant saving our future. For a prophecy we might not even live to see happen.

We wake up the next day, freezing to our cores and exhausted after a night of awful sleep. In our best efforts to make the most out of the day, we immediately head out and start looking for Anne's house. We have no information about her exact location, except that it's a small cottage next to the sea.

We quickly realize there are multiple cottages by the shore, a whole lot more than when I last was here about a year ago. But one cottage draws our attention. It has a small garden filled with magical plants as well as a thestral. I almost have to rub my eyes. I have never seen anyone have a pet thestral, but I suppose most people cannot even see them. For some reason I am intrigued and walk closer to get a better look.

The house is tiny, not more than 25 square metres and I notice that the yard must be bigger than the house itself. On the door I read Sallow. It feels as if my heart stops beating for a second. Of course this was Anne's house. The plants are exactly the ones Sebastian started growing this summer. The house even screams 'Sallow'. I tell Ominis that this must be her place.

We walk up to the house and I knock nervously on the door. A face shows up in a small window in the door, looking even more nervous and scared than me. The face quickly alters into confusion. Anne opens the door stands in the doorway.

''Y/n? Ominis?'' Her voice sounds as if she doesn't believe her eyes. ''Why are you here? How did you find me?''

Ominis gives her a big hug. He looks incredibly happy, so does Anne. They both must have been to the same hell and back after what happened last year, but could not even find peace and comfort in each other. They let go and she looks at me.

''I can't believe this.'' She says, admitting that she is doubting whether or not this is actually happening. ''Did Sebastian send you?''

''We sought you out. Sebastian didn't send us.'' I explain to her. ''We found something that we think you might be able to help us with. You wanted to become an auror, right?''

''Oh, yes. Like Uncle Solomon.'' She says and smiles. Her eyes look sad. ''But I don't see how I can help you.''

''We found a prophecy. We think it has something to do with me, or at least my family.'' Ominis says. ''Please, have a look.''

He hands over the prophecy to Anne. She looks full of doubt and hesitates before she looks at it. It takes almost a minute of her processing what she just saw before she opens her mouth.

''Oh, Ominis. I'm so, so sorry.'' She says and takes his hand. ''You're the last person in the world that should have to go through this.''

''What does this mean?'' He asks.

I sit in silence, trying to understand what's going on and if I can grasp whatever it is that Anne saw in the prophecy that we were unable to. Anne gives me a strained face. It is obvious that she doesn't want to tell whatever it is she realized.

''I'm just gonna say it. No sugar coating or anything.'' Anne says. Ominis and I nod simultaneously. ''Someone in your family will give birth to the probably greatest dark wizard we have yet to see.''

We all sit silently, exchanging looks and unsure about what to do with this information.

''Do we need to kill them?'' Ominis asks after a good moment of silence.

''I'm not sure.'' Anne admits as she suddenly starts gasping for air, obviously in pain.

She stands up, walks out the door to her thestral and pets it. She is taking long, deep breaths as she is calming herself.

''Are you getting any better?'' I ask her regarding her curse.

''Not really, but I've learned to live with it.'' She looks sad. ''I just have to ask... How is Sebastian?''

''He's getting better. He has been struggling, but he seems to be on the right track.'' I tell her and smile gently.

''I'm glad to hear.'' She gives me a kind smile. ''You know, he wouldn't stop talking about you. I'm glad he has you in his life. Despite the things he did, I still think he deserves happiness. If he can ever give himself that kind of peace.''

I smile at her, thankful to be in Sebastian's life but sad that they can't be in each other's.

''How have you been?'' Ominis asks her.

''Not too well. He took away my last family. I'm still unsure if I will ever be able to forgive him.'' The tone in her voice is sad, but she still sounds very kind.

''I understand what you mean.'' Ominis says. ''I'm still trying to forgive him, too. It's not an easy thing to do.''

''How do you do it?'' Anne asks him.

''I try to put myself in his shoes. Even though I would never walk the same route as him, I still understand why he wouldn't give up on you.'' Ominis gives her a gentle smile. ''There are many bad people doing good things, every day. He's a good man that did one bad thing. And it's really unfortunate that the price for his mistake would be this high.''

A single tear is running down Anne's cheek. I wipe it away and wrap her in my arms.

''I know he only wanted to help, but I cannot forgive him for taking away Uncle Solomon. I just can't.'' She's struggling to put her words together as she bawls her eyes out.

''You don't have to.'' I try to comfort her, hoping that she can find the peace to forgive him. But I also understand why she can't. At least not now.

''But I want to!'' She's still bawling.

''Then you're going to find it in your heart to do so, when the time is right.'' Ominis says gently. He is really good at comforting. ''But now is not the time. You need to be patient with yourself and your feelings.''

Anne offers us a cup of tea and some pumpkin scones. It is really delicious and filling since we didn't eat any breakfast. We sit at her kitchen table for a couple of hours, talking about life, thestrals and magic plants. As the sun begins to set, we must head back to Hogwarts. I give Anne a big hug and some comforting words. As Ominis tells her goodbye, she takes his hand.

''Ominis.'' She looks into his eyes. ''Don't overthink the prophecy. You know what you have to do.''

He looks just as confused as I feel. Anne quickly finishes her sentence.

''Oh, don't get me wrong. The prophecy will come true if no action is taken. But you will find a way so we don't have to walk down that road.''

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #hogwarts legacy #slytherin #fanfic #fanfiction #ominis gaunt #for the hope of it all

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malkumtend · 3 years

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Warmth - set in the ILYL universe (set between ch. 12 and ch. 13).

Art by @lonely-ghost-606

Windclan cats had been able to adapt to many things. Their legs, long and tight with muscle, gave them the strength and speed needed to chase rabbits and hares. They could fix their senses to the breeze that split through the grass, breathing in the wafts of prey that waited tree-lengths away. And their sleek, thin coats allowed them to rush through the moorlands, and not feel heat swell through layers of useless fur, even when the sun was hot and angry above Silverpelt.

Crowpaw was proud to say he had reaped the rewards of each of these benefits.

However, as his small, unprotected by fur, paws crunched through the blanket of snow, he really wished Windclan had discovered ways to fight the cold.

But they hadn’t. Often enough, they were warmed by their sheer raid movement on the moors, so rain hardly gave them a problem. And snow was a rarity among the clans themselves.

Here, in the mountain air, where the sky grew dark and the air descended into a bitter mist, where snow lined the rock like white, frozen moss, Crowpaw wasn’t so lucky.

His paw dug into the unbroken white once more, and the damp freeze clawed him once again. He winced as cold ran it’s tongue up his leg, then glared into the winter horizon, seeing the acres of snow they still had to navigate.

“Crowpaw?” Crowpaw hissed back a growl as he looked up at Brambleclaw. The Thunderclan tom had stopped, strong paws not even shivering as he waited in the snow. “Are you sure you don’t want us to stop to find some shelter?”

Every cat, all thick furred and stationary, looked back at the apprentice. They all shared the embarrassed look of pity.

Crowpaw’s ears burned, but even that offered no help to his shaking back. “I’m fine!” Crowpaw said, he had to grin his teeth so he didn’t stutter. “It’s not that cold!” The worst part was that was true. There was no snow falling, just a plethora of short, but cutting gusts of wind. It would undeniably get colder when the dusty afternoon sky began to darken. Crowpaw groaned. He didn’t even want to think about that.

“Sure.” Stormfur muttered.

Crowpaw tried not to hiss. I’d like to see how you do without all that fur, fish-breath!

Feathertail glared at her brother then faced Crowpaw worriedly. “Crowpaw, it really doesn’t matter. None of us would mind.”

“Feathertail’s right.” Tawnypelt agreed. “It’ll do you no good to push yourself, Crowpaw. It’s only going to get worse from here.” She mewed with a whip of her tail. “It’ll be better if you keep your strength.”

“I said I’m fine!” Crowpaw meowed, stamping his forepaw furiously. He cringed when he hit a fresh patch of snow. “I-I don’t need to rest! If you all do, that’s your problem. I’ll just carry on by myself!” With that, he began to storm past the cats, trying to use his anger to heat the chill biting his paws. It grew with every disbelieving or piteous look he was able to catch.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself!” Stormfur snapped, shaking his head as Crowpaw passed him with a quiet snarl.

Crowpaw was about to say something bitter, but most of his energy was saved for trying to keep himself warm. He sighed drearily, watching with a frown as his breath blew away in a vapor of steam.

He kept his head high, for some reason thinking that would help him conserve heat if he kept his head away from the snow. It wasn’t working. Crowpaw bit his lip in frustration, but he didn’t stop. He may have hated being half-frozen, but he hated being pitied more than anything. He’d rather sleep furless in icy water than be the reason the group stopped for a moment.

The Two-legs pillaging Winclan wouldn’t wait for him. He couldn’t either.

However, the constant, slithering powder of frost that made his back hurt was just as merciless.

Little by little, Crowpaw slowed down in his walk again. The cats he had proudly stormed ahead of began to pass him again, one by one, this time keeping their mouths shut. It was clear anything they said would just make it worse for their prickly accomplice.

Still, each one’s warm, fleecy coat of fur looked swollen with regret that that they couldn’t give him any help.

He heard Feathertail mew something soft to him, but by then Crowpaw’s ears were pounding with humiliation.

He could just imagine Mudclaw’s face. The abject disgust at how pathetic his apprentice had turned out to be. Look at you! Your father picks you to represent our great clan and you whither like a wet kit!

Crowpaw’s steps only slowed as the even colder voice persisted in his brain. No surprise, his decreasing pace only made the strength to continue even weaker. Every step now felt as heavy as pulling his body out of a pool of mud.

He growled quietly. Stupid snow. It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t suited to this mouse-brained weather. A defeated sigh left him like a spirit. No. If he could truly call himself a Warrior, he should have just been able to grit his teeth and bare it. And even though he could bare it, he knew he was slowing them all down.

He was making Windclan look like a liability.

Crowpaw tried to not look like that hurt him as much as he did. He closed his eyes, gnashing his jaws. He just needed to carry on at this point. Sulking wouldn’t make him look any less of a complete rabbit-heart. He kept his eyes to the snow, determined to not remind himself of the contrast of his and his journeymates wills.

His ear perked however, when he heard snow crunch beside him. He just caught the ginger and white paws that bounded effortlessly in the snow until they were right beside him.

Crowpaw sighed, feeling his ears go hot. “What is it, Squirrelpaw?” He said curtly.

“What?” A snappy voice replied. “Can I not walk with you now?”

Crowpaw kept himself from getting angry. It wasn’t Squirrelpaw’s fault he was useless. “Don’t be mouse-brained.” He said. “What do you need?”

“I don’t need anything. I just wanted to talk to you.” Her voice shifted cheekily. “You should count yourself lucky.”

“Shouldn’t I just.” Crowpaw rolled his eyes. He caught her then. She looked remarkably unperturbed by her environment. She strode through the snow as if it was new-leaf grass. But maybe that was the benefits of having such a fluffy coat like she did. Crowpaw looked ahead. “Shouldn’t you try to catch up with the others?” They were at least half a tree-length ahead.

“Only if you feel like it.” Crowpaw frowned and Squirrelpaw had the sense to let her ears fold back guiltily. “Sorry. I know that Windclan aren’t really… suited for snow.” He could practically feel the burn of her eyes as they slid across his spiked, wimpy excuse of a coat.

Crowpaw felt the sudden need to jerk himself up. Looking so bad in front of his best friend was hardly a welcome thought. “I said it before; I’ll be okay.” He spoke. His tail swung forwards. “Don’t wait on me. Just carry on ahead.” The last thing he wanted to be was a burden.

“I’m not waiting on anyone. There’s no need to rush, after all.”

The very idea that she could rush in this made Crowpaw groan a little.

Squirrelpaw shrugged, pouncing ahead. “Cheer up. We’ll have to find some shelter soon. This mountain’s so big, there has to be thousands of places to sleep.”

Crowpaw scoffed. “Yeah, but since it’s so big how long will we have to walk until we find one of them.”

“It can’t be long now.”

So painfully optimistic. As the cold made his bones brittle, Crowpaw looked away. “Yeah. You keep thinking that.”

Squirrelpaw looked at him pointedly. Her eyes hadn’t lost their fire, if anything they looked even sharper. “Maybe it would help if you weren’t so moody. Would it really hurt you to think of something other than the worst of everything?”

Crowpaw’s tail flared. He couldn’t help but glare at his friend. “It’s easy for you to say, fuzz-ball!”

Squirrelpaw laughed mockingly, “Oh, that’s a new one. What? Jealous?” Her overwhelming coat seemed to shake with every spark of her words. She seemed to be more fur than cat!

Crowpaw flashed his teeth, “Not really. You should count yourself lucky. Without all that fur, you’d be smaller than a kit!”

“I’d still beat you in a fight, though!”

Crowpaw only scoffed again, turning away with a growl.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that!” Squirrelpaw said frustratedly. “You can’t get angry at me for this.”

“You’re the one acting like a mouse-brain.” Crowpaw said monotonously.

There was gawking sound. “How? All I said was that it wouldn’t kill you to stop looking so angry. It’s hardly going to help you is it?”

“Oh, and if I smile like an idiot, I’m – what – just going to get all warm, fuzzy feelings.” Crowpaw bit his tongue as his head tittered in a mocking grimace. “Get over yourself.”

“You first.” Squirrelpaw muttered with the edge of a hiss. “No need to get nasty.”

Crowpaw didn’t reply. Talking to her was too much effort.

Besides, maybe now she’d join up with the others instead of seeing him like this.

She didn’t. They continued to walk. And for some reason, even though she had to be in better shape than him, she matched his pace the whole time. Crowpaw scanned the path ahead and exhaled slowly. There was still no sign of shelter. At least he hadn’t lost sight of the others.

It didn’t take long for his side to quiver. His nose creasing, he looked and his frown softened when he saw the ginger pelt still whiskers from his own. He could swear he could feel a small heat radiating from the bright strands of fur.

As that heat lingered, the silence became more suffocating.

“Look.” A soft voice made Crowpaw crane his head. “If I said something to upset you, I’m sorry.” Crowpaw blinked in shock. “I didn’t mean to.” He heard Squirrelpaw spit bitterly. “But that doesn’t give you the right to be like this. It’s not my fault your coat’s so thin.” She muttered. “I can’t make it grow, you know. It’s not like I want you to be cold.”

He lost valuable energy doing so, but Crowpaw’s head shifted to his side.

Her lips were in a thin pout, and her eyes were downcast in a bad mood. But she didn’t slow or quicken her pace. She kept right by him. Occasionally she would tilt her gaze, but stopped when she felt she was being watched.

Neither spoke. The quiet made Crowpaw cold inside.

Crowpaw bit his lower lip, ignoring the sudden twist in his stomach. As the bitter silence persisted however, he sighed to himself. She was right. It wasn’t like she’d tried to provoke him. All she’d done was try to keep him company and be the over-zealous molly she always was. She hadn’t started anything. Or at least she hadn’t tried to.

Even if she didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut, she still was looking out for him. And even when snapped at she didn’t just leave him like he deserved. She accepted his moodiness. Maybe he needed to learn to accept her… quirks.

Besides, talking to her had made his mouth feel warm.

Crowpaw breathed, feeling the cold made him cough momentarily. When he’d stopped, he found Squirrelpaw looking at him with obvious concern. The tom’s face mellowed. “I know.” He said, looking forward, downcast. “I’m sorry too. I’m just sick of this cold.”

At his apology, Squirrelpaw’s ears twitched. Hesitantly, she faced him, the stiffness of her muzzle quivering just the slightest. She looked over his shivering frame again. She let out a soft breath. “If it’s bothering you that much, I can ask the others to stop.”

“We can’t do that.”

“But Crowpaw-”

“No.” Crowpaw affirmed. “I don’t want to slow anyone down.” He’d said it before he could take it back. He grunted at himself. He was so freezing, he didn’t even think about what he was saying.

“It isn’t slowing us down. They’d do the same no matter who it was.” Squirrelpaw said, her gaze warm.

Crowpaw let out a bitter laugh, “Maybe, but it wouldn’t happen to any of you.” He said tensely, using his shaking tail to point at his pelt.

Squirrelpaw’s jaw hung in sad recognition. She looked up at Crowpaw wordlessly, unable to offer a retort.

Crowpaw gave her a gentle nod. He knew she couldn’t counter that, no matter how much she wanted to. He resigned himself to carry on walking. If Squirrelpaw kept by him at this point, he counted himself lucky. He licked his chest a little to warm himself up, but bit on it softly as the organ began to freeze. He shook himself again; all he could do was keep moving.

He was just beginning to feel some kind of control over his stiffening tail again when he felt something knock into his side.

It wasn’t a hard push. Really it was just a pressing on his ribs. Crowpaw usually would have jumped away, but he stopped shot as he noticed the feeling the sudden presence gave. It felt softer than the moss that he used to line his nest, but it condensed the same kind of comforting, embracing warmth that he felt from his den. Without fully realising it, the frost that had made his ribs ache subsided to a blissful glow.

He turned to his side, and blinked stupidly when he saw what, or who, was the source of the heat.

Squirrelpaw wasn’t facing him, but her fur was pressed right into Crowpaw’s body. She walked, a little clumsily, next to him and, this close, Crowpaw felt just how woolly her coat truly was. It really did feel like she was made of fur. It slipped all over his side like a ray of sunlight. He really did feel his body begin to swell with her share of heat.

But the heat in his face was all his own. “S-Squirrelpaw?” He mewed incredulously.

“Hush.” Squirrelpaw said, her voice muffled for some reason. “If you’re going to be stubborn like this I might as well make sure you don’t hurt yourself doing it.”

“W-What?” Crowpaw felt something pound in the depths of Squirrelpaw’s side.

“Let’s just keep moving.” The Thunderclan apprentice mewed, “I can’t just let you freeze. Don’t worry, I’m sure I won’t need to do this for long. We can’t be far from shelter now.” There was a silent plead in the cavern of her tone. Crowpaw could feel her muscles tense. She was looking quickly at him, as if checking that he didn’t rip himself from her.

There were many reasons that he should: clan loyalty, personal embarrassment, how fast his heart was-

Crowpaw gulped, his eyes still on the smaller cat. He saw her swallow hard and noticed her stiff, vacant expression as she kept on walking. Crowpaw’s stomach churned.

She was embarrassed herself, but she worked through it for him.

Her head tipped back a little, and Crowpaw noticed the cute way that her nose twitched when she was nervous. Her fur still mingled with his, he could barely see his own coat wrapped inside the ginger fluff. Crowpaw’s tail swung from side to side. Did he really feel as calmly about this as he did? This… this wasn’t normal, was it? Even if they were friends, could they really…

Crowpaw took in a hot breath. He felt shaking at his side and looked down stunned. She wasn’t cold, was she? Why was she shivering like that? Was he that cold to touch? No. That was ridiculous. She hadn’t looked like that before. His body tingled with worry. His tail began to sway quickly, maybe it would be better if he started to rush ahea-

He blinked.

His fur quivered all over his body. This time with realisation.

He wasn’t freezing anymore.

How…How could that be? Was her fur actually that warm? He slowly looked down again, shocked by how seamless his neck felt now. There she was. Nestled against him, eyes burning with embarrassment, tail quivering behind her, her gait clumsy and stuttering.

She wasn’t cold though.

Crowpaw felt that much.

And if somehow she was, she hadn’t left him yet.

Crowpaw felt warmer.

Gently, he slipped his tail until it had intertwined itself with his friend’s. Squirrelpaw jerked, twisting her head up. Her lips trembled. “C-Crowpaw?”

Crowpaw was concerned that she’d pull away, so he offered her a small smile. “Sorry. I just thought I’d return the favour.” He pressed himself even closer to the soft pelt. Squirrelpaw let out a light squeak as Crowpaw’s tail embraced her own. His tail tingled as it cloaked itself in the brush of long fur. He winked at her. “Wouldn’t want you falling in the snow after all. I’d have to laugh at you.”

Squirrelpaw didn’t speak for a moment. Dumbfounded.

Then her tail began to squeeze his like a soft paw.

And her lips curved into a grin.

“Careful,” She warned, her eyes half-closing. “I’ve seen you trip before. I can make it happen again.”

Crowpaw snickered. “You do that, you’re coming down with me.”

“Great! That way I can hold you down. I’ve always wondered how you would look with white fur!”

“Touche!” Crowpaw chuckled.

Squirrelpaw beamed, ready to start again with another silver quip.

“Squirrelpaw?”

The ginger cat opened her eyes, her grin slackening as she saw the smile on Crowpaw’s face. “Hmm?” She questioned, raising a brow.

“Thanks.” Crowpaw said. Genuine.

He just about felt a beat inside Squirrelpaw’s chest again. But she cut it off with a laugh that could make icicles fall. “Who are you and what have you done with Crowpaw?” He joined in, laughing until he was out of breath. Squirrelpaw smiled, her head almost underneath his chin. Her tail curled blissfully over his. “Don’t mention it, Crowfood.” She said, the gentleness betraying the nickname.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” Crowpaw quipped, chuckling as Squirrelpaw nudged him away with her side.

But their tail still stayed linked, so they easily found each other again.

…

Not many people seemed interested, but fuck it. If people hate it they can tell me in the comments. For those that are interested, I hope you liked it.

#squirrelflight #crowfeather #squirrelcrow #crowsquirrel #warrior cats #warriors #I like your laugh #lonely ghost 606 #lonely-ghost-606

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shirophantomvox · 3 years

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Illumi Analysis | Hisoka Analysis | Killua Analysis

What’s up, everybody! I am back yet again with another Hunter x Hunter post. You all really like my Hisoka and Illumi character analysis and thoughts. I figured why not analyze Chrollo as well? Apparently, Chrollo, Hisoka, and Illumi are considered the Adult Trio on here so that is why I used the tag. I understand that this is a Voltron blog but I changed it into a multi because I have a love for other shows that deserve to be talked about. I post these character analyses because they will help me define and develop characters of my own and I love talking about them. Where are they from? What do they do in their spare time? And so on. Read the entire post for links and references!

Let’s get into the post!

I’ve stated in my "Hunter x Hunter Thoughts #2" post that Chrollo caught my attention immediately in the Yorknew City Arc. It was a combination of his large eyes, his calm, smooth voice, the tattoo on his forehead, and his hairstyle. I’ve noticed that my heart flutters a little when these characters speak (don't make it weird. You know what I mean) because their voices are smooth and calm. I think this tactic often used to get the viewers to “love” the villain regardless of any wrongdoings they do in the show. I noticed numerous things about him that made me wonder why he dresses the way he does, why is he so calm and dark, and why does he lurk in the shadows?

I have to be honest. One thing that often annoys me about several anime/manga(s) is they introduce SEVERAL characters at once, push some characters off to the very end, and do not give proper backstories for villains, especially. I don’t side with villains but a backstory should be a necessity. The only main antagonist that has a proper backstory is Illumi because we know that he was raised by crazy assassins. Hisoka doesn't have a backstory except for a one-shot that isn’t canon and neither does Chrollo.

I’ve only seen 2 flashbacks regarding Chrollo and his past. He was born in Meteor City which was a town full of trash; no houses, plants, or schools. It is implied that he only survived from stealing from others. His current members are people he met in his hometown. Chrollo often states that he is the head of the group and if he dies, he trusts that they’ll make a great decision on who the new leader will be. In the present, Gon asks him how he could kill people he didn’t know. The silence and rhythmic thunder-claps imply that he doesn’t know why.

Is it something he does...impulsively? Throughout this arc, it seems that Chrollo is having somewhat of an identity crisis. He has stated several times about trying to figure out “who he is”. By that, Chrollo must not like to steal and destroy but to him, that is what he needs to do to survive.

This raises the question of: “If he has stolen for all these years, why is he still living in a destroyed church?”

He’s been a bandit for years. I’m sure he’s on the radar somewhere. He can’t walk around with the troupe members in broad daylight because someone will recognize them. Maybe this is why they only travel in the dark. Machi was brave for walking from Heaven’s Arena in the dark.

He can’t buy a house. What name, card info, or co-leaders would sign the lease? He’s a bandit, remember. His face is somewhere waiting to be caught.

He has accepted this state of living. I thought that since he lived in a trash town that he would want to live in a luxurious place if he could, but no. He lives in a destroyed church, in darkness, and only speaks to his members.

When Chrollo stole the girl’s ability to tell the future, he took it for two reasons. A) because he needed it to see what would happen to Uvo in the new world and B) because the girl’s father used her ability for money and didn’t care for her.

The only reason why I feel an ounce of sympathy for him and not Illumi is it seems like Chrollo raised himself. He took it upon himself to steal and whatnot so he could eat. Chrollo came from nothing while Illumi had a mansion, butlers, protection, and anything he wanted. FYI, just because you have a luxurious lifestyle doesn’t mean you’re happy but in this case, Illumi had shelter while Chrollo didn’t.

Face

Chrollo’s face is what I aspire to create for my own OC’s but manage to fail every time. His face matches his body. If it weren’t for his tattoo and his main hairstyle, I wouldn’t have thought he was a threat to anyone. His face is well-rounded and reminds me of a young adult. His skin is pale and often covered in shadows because he is always in a room that is only lit by a candle. His ears are rather large for his head, but they match ok. Although, I wish his tattoo was removed. To me, that ruins his character design. He already has an inverted cross on his coat and is implied by the destroyed church he lives in. The tattoo just reminds me of a cult for some reason and that is why he gave me unsettling feelings at first.

Eyes

Chrollo’s large eyes are another feature that had me aghast. Some people love big eyes, but his grey pupils capture you almost like you're hypnotized to do anything he wants. They’re a pretty shade of grey, though.

Hair

I am going to say this loud and proud: CHROLLO LOOKS MUCH BETTER WITH HIS HAIR DOWN! Yes, to me he looks much respectable, mature, and serious with it down. His hair is jet black and is shiny like Illumi’s. I could only imagine if I had the chance to touch his hair, the dye would come off on my hands. The down look? The best way to go!

Clothes

His clothes are very stylish. The coat he wears would be PERFECT for the winter seasons! If I ever cosplay, I’m wearing that coat while it's snowing. In the first scene, he was seen wearing a black shirt with white lines going in numerous directions. After that, the creators decided to let his rippling chest show for the rest of the arc. Damn, rippling chests have been a popular decision and NO ONE is complaining! His black pants remind me of skinny jeans and even if they are, he’s lucky because I CANNOT wear skinny jeans. Once I wore them, bent over, and ripped them! I said to myself, “WTF? I paid $35 for these!”

Shoes

He wears black boots that reach up to his leg. He isn’t as stylish as Illumi and Hisoka, but that’ll do. His clothing is much simpler for anyone to cosplay.

Voice

As stated above, Chrollo has a soft, calm voice. He is the only villain I’ve seen that maintains composure during tough situations. I don't know if this was planned or not, but the main antagonists have calm soothing voices. When Chrollo went out with the fortune teller, I forgot he only did that for his selfish gain. I thought he generally enjoyed the date.

In conclusion, I wish Chrollo had a backstory like many characters in this manga. I think Hisoka and Chrollo’s backstory would be the most interesting to me. When these twisted characters appear before us, you want to know why they became this way. Having an empty villain isn’t good and is quite annoying.

Thank you for reading this post! If you’d like me to analyze any characters from Voltron or Hunter x Hunter, send me an ask!

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luthienne · 4 years

Note

Hey, dear! Let me be one [more] follower who asks a few quotes about some things. Could you compile some (just a few, just a bunch) about silence and/or introversion? Thank you dearly. ♡

a compilation v close to my heart ♡

“Solitude: liberation from even the expectation of being seen.”

Kathleen Graber, The Eternal City: Poems; “The Telephone”

“For now she need not think about anybody. She could be herself, by herself. And that was what now she often felt the need of — to think; well not even to think. To be silent, to be alone.”

Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse

“I thought of you—wished you were here with me but I get a keen sort of exhilaration from being alone…”

Georgia O’Keeffe, in a letter to Cady Wells, featured in Georgia O’Keeffe: A Life

“But I love such days—rare lonely days. I love above all things, my dear, to be alone.”

Katherine Mansfield, in a letter to J.M. Murry

“I am, oddly, happiest when alone for weeks on end talking to no one there, talking in my mind to the imagined listener who perfectly hears, perfectly understands, and talks back with equal truthfulness.”

Martha Gellhorn, from Selected Letters

Amélie, dir. Jean-Pierre Jeunet (2001)

“For a long time now, every meeting with another human being has been a collision. I feel too much, sense too much, am exhausted by reverberations after even the simplest conversation.”

May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude

“I have packed myself into silence so deeply and for so long that I can never unpack myself using words. When I speak, I only pack myself a little differently.”

Herta Müller, from The Hunger Angel

“I don't see much of anybody these days—I feel rather funny with other people—even those whom I care for. While one's heart is being transformed into a little world, one wants to be alone.”

Kahlil Gibran, in a letter to Mary Haskell, from Beloved Prophet: The Love Letters of Kahlil Gibran and Mary Haskell, and her private journal

Bella Akhmadulina, Fever and Other New Poems; “Longing for Lermontov” (tr. Geoffrey Dutton, Igor Mezhakoff-Koriakin)

“Perhaps I am addicted to solitude and feel safe and easy in it,”

Martha Gellhorn, Selected Letters

“…because there was too much silence within me. In those days I was alone,”

Clarice Lispector, Why This World: A Biography of Clarice Lispector

“My current silence interests only me. It touches too many parts of my personal life for me to explain it to you.”

Albert Camus, Notebooks (1951-1959), Vol 3.

“People love talking, and I have never been a huge talker. I carry on an inner monologue, but the words often don’t reach my lips.”

Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

“And what were they anyway, sprigs of grass, things of blue? For a long time I wanted to use words, then didn’t.”

Mary Ruefle, Madness, Rack, and Honey

“What words? What words can I trust to convey this fragile heart?”

Jeanette Winterson, Gut Symmetries

Keaton Henson, from “How Could I Have Known”

“So much of what we live goes on inside– The diaries of grief, the tongue-tied aches Of unacknowledged love are no less real For having passed unsaid. What we conceal Is always more than what we dare confide. Think of the letters that we write our dead.”

Dana Gioia, Unsaid

“But I cannot help it. I only want to be alone. I want to be myself and alone and free to breathe, live, look upon the world and find it however it is…”

Martha Gellhorn, from Selected Letters

“… Perhaps love is to give one’s own solitude to others? For it is the very last thing we have to offer.”

Clarice Lispector, Selected Cronicas; “The Gift”

“I’ve never been afraid of loneliness because I’ve never felt the need to justify my feelings to myself. I accept the muteness of feeling too. I have huge respect for my own silence. I let it speak. I allow time to do its trick and lead me back to myself. I don’t want just anyone to share life and myself with me.”

Anaïs Nin, from The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 5: 1947-1955

“Don’t allow yourself to be imprisoned by any affection. Preserve your solitude. If the day ever comes when a real friendship is bestowed on you there will be no conflict between your inner solitude and this friendship. On the contrary, that is the infallible sign by which you will know it.”

Simone Weil, First and Last Notebooks: Supernatural Knowledge

“…the most precious thing of all: solitude.”

Clarice Lispector, The Hour of the Star (tr. Benjamin Moser)

“She naturally loved solitary places, vast views, and to feel herself for ever and ever and ever alone.”

Virginia Woolf, Orlando

Harold Pinter, Old Times

“Le Notti Bianche” (1957) - Luchino Visconti

“Solitude itself is a way of waiting for the inaudible and the invisible to make itself felt. And that is why solitude is never static and never hopeless.”

May Sarton, Plant Dreaming Deep

“O you—my sacred solitude!”

Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems; “Solitude (from Rilke)”

“It is curious for one who has been much alone—this sinking back into silence.”

Katherine Mansfield, in a letter to J.M. Murry

“…I have backed up / into my silence / as inexhaustible as the sun”

Fanny Howe, The Lyrics: Poems; “O’Clock”

“All I want is silence, for myself and for the selves I used to be, a silence like the magical cottage in the forest that lost children find in fairy tales.”

Alejandra Pizarnik, Extracting the Stone of Madness (tr. Yvette Siegert)

Allison Stone, “Persephone’s First Season in Hell”

“…and the heart took shelter behind a parapet of silence;”

Dulce María Loynaz, Absolute Solitude: Selected Poems; “Poema XLV” (tr. James O’Connor)

[Original: “…y el corazón se encastilló en un muro de silencio;”]

“I feel the same way about solitude as some people feel about the blessing of the church. It’s the light of grace for me. I never close my door behind me without the awareness that I am carrying out an act of mercy toward myself.”

Peter Høeg, “Smilla’s Sense of Snow”

“Solitude as necessity, demandable, honorable. Not sinful, indulgent, wasteful, undeserved.”

May Sarton, from a journal entry dated October 18, 1993

“And in that silence, what grace.”

Camille Norton, Corruption: Poems; “Savonarola’s Cape”

“and my chest appears translucent, / heart in its center, / cathedral of dust / and silence”

Milagros Terán, Las luces en la sien (tr. Fiona Griffin)

[Original: “y el pecho lo llevo traslúcido, / corazón en medio / como una catedral de pólvera / y silencio”]

Emily Dickinson, “I felt a Funeral in my Brain”

“I want to meet no one; I want to say nothing; / I want to go down and rest in the black earth of silence.”

Robert Bly, Eating the Honey of Words; “Depression,”

“You would rather have gone on feeling nothing, / emptiness and silence; the stagnant peace / of the deepest sea,”

Margaret Atwood, from “Eurydice,” Selected Poems II: 1976 - 1986

“I don’t know about birds / nor do I know the history of fire. / But I believe that my solitude should have wings.”

Alejandra Pizarnik, Tree of Diana, tr. Joseph Mulligan & Patricia Rossi

“For language to have meaning there must be intervals of silence somewhere, to divide word from word and utterance from utterance.”

Thomas Merton, “Disputed Questions”

“I have a need of silence and of stars. / Too much is said too loudly.”

William Alexander Percy, from “Home”

Camille Norton, Corruption: Poems

“—a space of virgin silence, a place of rest where I wait for myself.”

Alejandra Pizarnik, “A Night Shared in a Memory of Escape” (tr. Yvette Siegert)

#ask #anon #compilation #quote compilation #on solitude #on silence #unsayable #long post #i really did try to keep this short.... god #stay with me always solitude

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not-poignant · 3 years

Note

Garden Cosmos, Glory-of-the-Snow, Hellebore, Camelia, Black-Eyed Susan~.. (there are a lot of good questions, but before it becomes too much, ha).

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today?

It was... well actually I inputted 'awful' into my Daylio (mood-tracker) app earlier, so a substantive part of it wasn't great. It was tumultuous. I had a much-needed massage today after around 9 weeks of going without, so a lot of fascia had to be broken up forcibly and it was very painful, but I really like my massage therapist and we had some good conversations (and she gave me some lemons from her tree!)

Then, I finished chapter 20 of The Ice Plague, which felt great, until about thirty minutes later when I remembered that like, I'm still essentially me, and that's someone I can't stand right now (hence - awful). After that I crashed energy wise, pretty normal (are you all bored yet) and slept for four hours and woke to tachycardia and probably a panic attack. I forced myself to get up and walk for 30 minutes, listened to the amazing new Manchester Orchestra album, and crashed again for about another hour mood-wise.

And then spent the evening watching His Dark Materials with Glen, so my mood kind of levelled out to where it is now, where I feel capable of answering asks and maybe doing some editing?

The day has been...exhausting.

Glory-of-the-Snow: What are ten things that make you happy/you’re grateful to have in your life?

1. I'm grateful for fresh water 2. I'm grateful for my meds, because even though they don't solve or cure anything, they at least make life as liveable as it currently is. 3. I'm grateful for the generosity of friends and partners 4. I'm grateful for all the many species of animals in the world and how endlessly fascinating they all are 5. I'm grateful for the folks who read my stories, and the ones who enjoy them enough to let me know 6. I'm grateful for confit orange peel dipped in dark chocolate 7. I'm grateful for Manchester Orchestra 8. I'm grateful for people who don't assume that just because they've found a path through their personal hell, that I will find a path too, or that my path will look anything like theirs when I do. (The people who let me be who I am, and not who they imagine me to be). 9. I'm grateful for my hands, that let me type, and illustrate, and play piano, and cross-stitch. 10. I'm grateful for Animal Crossing: New Horizons, and the fact that I haven't made one imperfect Snowboy this season so far, lol.

(I went with gratitude instead of what makes me happy, because anhedonia makes all the things that make me happy stop making me happy. Do not recommend).

Hellebore: How do you show affection?

Badly. x.x

I don't know. Sometimes I think I show affection by withdrawing from the people I care about. Sometimes by holding space and listening. Sometimes by witnessing them in their darkness. Sometimes by giving them big squeezy hugs and holding them close. Sometimes by playing with someone's hair, or poking someone gently in the arm. Sometimes by cooking and sometimes by cleaning and sometimes by gardening and sometimes by making sure someone's favourite food is always available. Sometimes by sharing music or television or movies. Sometimes by walking away to shelter someone from the bomb that is my uncontrollable PTSD-triggered rage. Sometimes with laughter. Sometimes by walking through the fire of my own depression and anxiety to the other side. Sometimes by not dying, because I know it might make some of the people around me sad.

Camelia: If you could visit anywhere, where would you want to go?

I don't know, actually. There are places that are near the top of my list - Japan, Singapore, a lot of places in Europe actually (probably too many to mention, and probably not any of the places most folks think of), I want to go back to Orkney so badly, I want to be in Tasmanian rainforests again, in the mountain fog.

As I get older though, sometimes the places I most want to visit aren't the elusive ones, but the places I can visit - rocky beaches with moody seas have been in my head all year, so...those are the places I have been trying to visit.

Black-Eyed Susan: If you could be any animal for a day, what would it be?

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be an olm for a day. Not having eaten a single thing for years, fresh water running over my back, with vestigial eyesight, functionally blind and in the darkness of hidden caves, knowing only the grip of slippery rocks beneath me and living in a world of frigid vibration, only to take advantage of a tiny morsel of food, and know how to be satisfied with that enough to keep on living for another five years with nothing more than water and rock.

From the flower asks meme!

#asks and answers #memey goodness #personal #look olms are really badass and nothing will convince me otherwise #but i'm also always amazed by those creatures that live a life #that doesn't seem like any life at all #because i'm like #tell me how you do it #do olms experience major depression too #or do they love it #because they know no other way?#i don't know #they have a genetic memory of eyesight and the life of a creature in soil and leaves #do they miss it?#suicidal ideation cw

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daydream-hobii · 4 years

Text

Hybrid Heart Attack | Chapter 16

Genre: Poly!AU; Hybrid!AU; Fluff; Angst

Pairing: BTS x Female!Reader; Human!Seokjin x Human!Reader; Eventual relationship with Snow Leopard!Yoongi, Red Panda!Hoseok, Koala!Namjoon, Calico Cat!Jimin, Husky!Taehyung, Doberman!Jungkook

Summary: Y/n finds her current fiance during college, his name is Seokjin. They fell in love and dated for three years before he proposed. Now, Seokjin is a lawyer for hybrids, and Y/n, well, she has the perfect stay at home job. When Seokjin invites her to move in, she wasn’t expecting that he has six hybrids. She doesn’t know why a hybrid lawyer wouldn’t have hybrids, she just didn’t think about it…. Y/n is petrified of hybrids, something happened to her when she was little…. Guess she’ll have to adapt… or leave.

Warning: Mentions of Animal Attacks, Abuse (Physical & Mental), Depression, Anxiety; Possible PTSD mentions; Suggestions of Smut; Read with caution. <3 This one in particular has Mentions of Violence, Attacks, Etc. Slightly Graphic. Read with Caution. <3

Word Count: 1,281

// Previous // Next //

Author’s Note: Welcome to Chapter 16! Okay! So, halfway through, it will switch to Seokjin’s POV! I was gonna make it Chapter 16.5, like I did in Shelter of Hope, but this chapter would’ve been too short! I hope you all enjoy it!! ^_^

I went straight to the park, it wasn’t too far from our house. Well, was it really my house anymore? Seokjin pushed the last button, how could I go back to a man who did such a thing? I couldn’t! I wouldn’t.

But… there was still my love, so strong. My heart felt broken, like it was all a lie. My Seokjin wouldn’t do this, he wouldn’t say that… but he did…. Was the engagement really a mistake…? He’s been so patient with me since I moved in. Patient with me warming up to the hybrids, patient with me needing him… why now? Why would he be so obsessed with Sooyoung when I’m right here? Am I not good enough?

I shivered, the cold night making me wrap my arms around myself. I felt numb, my heart heavy in my chest. Salty tears rolled down my cheeks. My heart was literally broken… Seokjin was my soulmate, my everything….

I heard a rustling not too far off, making me jump and look towards the bushes. I huffed, glaring at the noise and crossing my arms.

“Boys, go home, I want to be alone,” I warned.

My heart sank as four hybrids emerged from the bushes, but they weren’t mine…. They all looked threatening, making me go wide eyed. One smirked, walking closer to me as I stepped back. In my rush out the door, I forgot it was late at night and I should bring a weapon, so I was completely vulnerable.

“Think we were someone else?” One asked, flashing a toothy smile.

“Yes,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m sorry for the intrusion.” I turned around, about to walk back towards home, but another stepped in front of me.

“What’s the rush?” She asked, smirking. There were three men and one woman. My heart began to beat fast, old fears resurfacing.

“I need to get back home,” I replied, trying to step around her, but she shoved me, making me fall to the ground in horror.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” Another man said, making me gulp.

“See, you don’t know us, but you may know our owner,” One said with a smirk. “Met at a grocery store not too long ago. Your fiance knows him a bit better than you, though.” I went wide eyed, my mind flashing back to that day months ago.

“You’re the lawyer's wife,” A man growled out, making me pale slightly. “The one who took away my hybrids!”

I gulped once more, remembering what Seokjin told me about the case. He was taking away his hybrids because he used them for cage fighting. These must be that man's hybrids….

“You see, we like our owner, we like to fight, so you could imagine our disappointment when another man came to take us,” He said, bending down to my height. He pushed a piece of hair behind my ear, making me shiver in fear. “So, we decided we need to make him pay for it.”

“What better way than to take it out on his fiance,” The woman growled, making me wide eyed.

I tried to stand, I tried to get away, but the one who seemed to lead this pack bit my arm, making me shout in pain. I felt fists hit my body, feet hit my stomach. There would be an occasional bite, and it would seep through my skin. I curled up, trying to protect my body, my face, keep them from hurting me further, but to no avail. Memories from when I was younger came flooding back, and for a second I thought I was there.

One of the hybrids grabbed my chin, making me look up as he growled. I felt woozy, they had made so many wounds that I lost some blood. This hybrid seemed to open his mouth, going in for my jugular. This was it, this was the end… but he dropped me. My vision was blurry, but I could’ve sworn I saw four more people join us, hybrids. I wanted to shout, to ask them for help, but one of the hybrids attacking me kicked me in the face, making me lose consciousness.

Seokjin’s POV

My anger was so strong, but hurt filled my body as well. Why would she do this…? It’s never been like this before…. Back in college, we were apart for weeks at a time and there was never a problem…. I felt so hurt, but at the same time, I understood what she was saying. I had been away from her for a long time, and I hadn’t seen her for a while, and we live together.

I pulled up to Sooyoung’s house, turning off the car and sighing. I got out, walking to her door and knocking, tears rolling down my cheeks. When she opened it, her smile disappeared. She pulled me into a hug, her hand twisting through my hair as her other rubbed my back.

“Jinnie, what’s wrong?” She asked, grabbing my hand and taking me to her living room where we sat.

“Y/n and I got into a pretty bad fight,” I mumbled. She looked surprised, but I noticed a glint in her eyes.

“About what?” She asked.

“You,” I replied, sniffing and rubbing my face.

“Oh, honey, I’m so terribly sorry,” She replied, hugging me. “Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be…?”

“But it was,” I replied, pulling away. “She’s always been so funny and outgoing, except when she gets shy and blushes. She’ll wrinkle her nose when she gets annoyed, but it’s all fun. She’s so beautiful and…” Something in my mind clicked, making my heart sink further. “Oh my god… what have I done…?”

“Jinnie, please,” Sooyoung asked, making me look at her. “Maybe this is fate! Maybe we’re supposed to get back together. I miss you so much, I just want you and the boys back.” My eyes widened when she leaned in, making me stand as she opened her eyes, looking hurt.

“Oh my god…. Sooyoung, you’re the one who broke up with me. You moved away, for your work, I wanted to try long distance, you didn’t,” I said, my brain creating memories and realizations at rapid speed.

“Jinnie, come on,” Sooyoung begged, standing. “She’s not the right one for you.”

“You got into my head,” I said, wide eyed. “Oh my god, Sooyoung, what did you make me do?! I was hanging out with you because I missed you! We were best friends before we were dating!” I paused, stepping back in horror. “Was this your plan…? You don’t know what’s right for me! I haven’t seen you in years!” I yelled.

“Jinnie,” Sooyoung started, but I cut her off.

“Don’t call me that!” I screamed, walking towards the door. “I have to go find Y/n. You stay away from me and my family from now on. I don’t want to see your face ever again.” I slammed the door, letting out a heavy sigh. I had to find her, I had to apologize. I knew I was going to have to beg to get her back…. God, I’m such an idiot….

I ran to my car, getting in and opening my phone. I had missed text messages from all the boys, they must be looking for me. Just as I opened the phone app to call Y/n, my phone began to ring with a mysterious phone number. I squinted my eyes, thinking maybe it was for work. I answered it, listening to a new voice on the phone. My heart sank, eyes widening and tears dropping.

“What…?” I whispered, heart breaking. “I’m on my way.”

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eugenesmorphine · 3 years

Note

I really love how you write Ronald Speirs! Can I request something like the reader is one of Easy's medics and they're all protective over them but no one knows that the reader and Speirs are married so they're all trying to keep him away from them and something happens where Easy finds out about their marriage? Sorry if that doesn't make any sense and you don't have to write it if you don't want too :)

Secret Love /// Ronald Speirs Imagine

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @punkgeekchic @valterras @floydtab @adamantiumdragonfly

Words: 3,337

Y/N hummed while carrying a crate within her arms. Lugging the crate alongside Perconte. Frank glanced down at the female’s arms and how the strained ever so slightly while she carried the crate. Looking back up at her helmet slipped down in front of her eyes. The big medic cross on the helmet showing even more. Perconte scoffed slightly as he looked at her and slipped her helmet back on top of the paratrooper’s head.

“You sure you don’t need help there Y/N? I can hold it if you would like, can’t have those medic hands of yours hurting,” he smiled warmly at her. Y/N just scoffed slightly and shook her head. Tightening her grip on the wooden crate. Sure it was heavy, but Y/N didn’t want nor needed any help. The guys just always wanted to help her. Like the “gentlemen” they are.

“I told you before, Frank. I don’t need any help. I’ve carried grown men they weigh more than the both of us,” she told him as she continued to walk. Her boots squishing in the mud just a bit. The pair walked past Captain Speirs, and Captain Winters. Y/N shot a small smile towards Speirs. Speirs just softened his eyes and turned his face away. Smiling slightly. While Frank just watched her in awe. Tugging the female along.

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing?! No one just smiles at Speirs unless they want a death wish!” he exclaimed. Y/N just shrugged and smiled to herself. Not too fazed by it, unlike Perconte was more than surprised. Everyone seemed to fear Speirs. A Captain that was full of anger. The horror stories men told about him. And a girl of her size- just smiling and making eye contact with him, and just not fazed whatsoever.

What the men didn’t know was both Y/N and Ronald Speirs were married. They had been together for more than a few years. But to avoid conflict of interest, they barely met up with each other and kept quiet about their relationship. The only people to know of their relationship were the officers. And they even kept their mouths shut.

The few times they would come see each other was late at night when there were no emergencies for either of them to take care of. It was odd that they ended up together. Two completely different people. Y/N was a medic who was known to have a gentle touched that healed many. A set of soft E/C eyes that were warm and welcome. Whilst Ronald Speirs was a man of not hatred, but seemed like it. A hard exterior with what seemed like an even harder interior. A man feared by almost every soldier and Kraut. But not even that kept Y/N away.

///

The two had met during Paratrooper training. Even though Y/N was a part of Easy Company, she was busy patching up one of his soldiers after a group training exercise. Nothing serious, but Speirs had to go and collect his soldier.

He had approached Y/N as she was bandaging up a private’s arm after he fell and cut it up pretty good. Mistaking Y/N for a nurse and questioning why she was on the post since medics were only allowed. Which Y/N turned and smiled up at him. And that is when a jolt of electricity shot through his body. She simply just responded with, “No, sir. I’m the third combat medic with Easy Company, sir. First woman in the airbourne to experience real combat.” She was all proud. And that is what intrigued Ronald all in the start of it all. A woman to make it this far and make her way to get to go on the front lines of combat during World War II was a huge deal.

From that day forward, the two began to bump into each other more and more. Almost like fate brought them together. Sooner or later, they just got together. They disclosed the information to Winters and the other officers, and decided just to keep it quiet with the other men so it wouldn’t seem like favoritism. But they loved each other more than ever, they just kept an eye out for each other on the field, they snuck kisses behind the large trucks when no one was around, it showed their own type of love during such a time in history.

///

Dropping the crate off into one of the larger trucks, she felt Liebgott come and help her push it in. Rolling her eyes she looked up at the lanky man with an annoyed look. “When will the two of you get it through your skulls that I don’t need you guys taking care of me? I can take care of myself!” she exclaimed. Taking a moment to stand on her toes to reach into a few crates to grab some supplies that she needed to refill. That was before they pushed her back slightly to dive their hands in there to hand her some gauze and wraps. Morphine and stitches. Y/N groaned and just stomped her foot. While the boys seemed to not care, just chuckling and helping her.

Ronald and Richard watched the group of three from afar. Ronald crossed his arms as he watched. Winters just chuckled and shook his head slightly. Turning towards his fellow officer. “Are you ever going to actually tell the men? It’s been what? Two… three years now? You guys are married. The men wouldn’t care, Speirs. Plus, they are trying to shelter her away from you,” he snickers. Only receiving a heavy and agitated sigh from the soldier besides him. Frankly, Ronald and Y/N had no particular reason to hide their relationship from the guys. They just kind of did. Never ones to disclose or talk about themselves all that much. They just naturally were private. Their relationship was more of a relationship in private. Work was work. War was war. And that is how they always enjoyed it the past three years.

“Man I don’t know, Dick. It just turns out that way, Y/N doesn’t seem to mind. It seems to keep rumors down, you know,” he said honestly. Captain Ronald Speirs was a difficult man to read. And even harder to understand. But oddly, Dick Winters understood. Another chuckle leaving the redhead’s lips as he shook his head slightly.

“Whatever you say, Speirs. Get your men ready. We are pushing through Foy,” he told him. Patting his shoulder softly and turning to walk. Nixon on his trail. Ronald stood alone as he turned and looked at his woman from afar. Maybe this game of hiding has gone on for too long. Of course Ronald wasn’t one for PDA. But he would enjoy even speaking to her. Maybe even sit in the same foxhole as her from time to time. Maybe it was time..

///

Y/N hid with her back pressed tightly against a building. She worked carefully to wrap a soldier's wounds. He was shot, nothing bad though. The bullet went straight through the lone Sergeant’s leg, missing any main arteries. Tying off some dressings she stood. Her head turned to the forest line. Seeing Ronald have a sharp eye on her as he watched. She shot him a soft smile and turned to run out through the mortar shells and bullets. It was scary. No doubt about it. But she was prepared for it. She couldn’t let fear rest within her and take over. Y/N had a job to do. And the fear of losing her lover or losing her life couldn’t be her top priority. But it still was.

Ronald watched as stress surged within his body and mind. The German military were circling in on his men. And Lieutenant Dyke was sitting there and doing nothing! He was livid. But when he saw his wife sitting out there, trying to keep her head low while she worked on a soldier that had his arm blown off from a mortar shell. And it was when the tip of Y/N’s helmet was hit with a bullet and it flew off her head. Landing in the snow somewhere about six feet away from her. But she kept working on the soldier. Not even blinking twice. Ronald’s teeth grinded down onto each other. His chest heaved as his eyes never left his woman. Gripping his weapon and his dirt coated nails dug into the wood of it. And once he heard those orders from Winters to take over, he definitely took over that position. Sprinting through Foy to link up with I company.

Y/N watched in shock and in horror as she watched her husband. It was brave, but also do idiotic. Standing up and looking at him as the Germans sat there in shock. “Ronald!” she screamed. Her eyes coated with shock and fear as the cold wind whipped the stray strands of hair in front of her face. Her shocked stance quickly ended as she felt a bullet whiz past her face. Slicing her cheek. Dropping to the ground behind the little cover. She poked her head out by the corner as she watched Ronald dive over the small wall. A small sigh of relief. Biting her bottom lip as she waited for a small moment to run to another wounded soldier. Grabbing onto the fabric of his trooper shirt and dragging the man to cover. Beginning to work on his injuries.

Peeking over the cover to do a quick scan for more wounded, she caught a glimpse of her Ronald climbing back over the wall. Her eyes widened as she stood up. Now the Krauts began to fire back. But they missed every shot. She watched as Ronakd took cover and began to fire at the Germans. She shook her head and laughed in shock. Focusing back on her task at hand, she would just yell at him later. Jogging her way to another wounded man. It was war after all. Sometimes you needed stupid decisions that would just quite work. And sacrifices did help. But Y/N never really did pray, but in her head she prayed. She prayed to her lord that she was thankful that Ronald hadn’t made the ultimate sacrifice that day to save them.

///

After I company linked up with Easy Company, taking over the German’s was a piece of cake. I mean after the attack of the sniper. But Y/N was busy helping the other medics with the wounded. Getting men up on Jeeps to be sent to the nearest hospital. And she helped pick up some of the dead to be identified and brought back to town to be sent home. Wiping the sweat off her head as she placed her hands on her hips. Taking some water from her canteen to clean off some of the blood that rested and dried on them. Wiping her wet hands off on her trousers as they began to get cold from the frigid air all around them. Her eyes darted to the side as she saw Ronald walking past her and towards the rest of the Easy Company boys. Placing her helmet onto her head as she turned and gritted her teeth. She was blinded by worry and fear after watching him run through Foy. It turned into anger. Y/N was a patient woman, don’t get me wrong. But when it came to her husband, it was an entire different situation. Especially when he did something as stupid as he did. And boy did Ronald already see it coming.

Y/N turned and began to march over to him. Clenching her firsts as she walked past the groups of men. Liebgott nudged Buck and pointed at the woman. The look of anger yet her eyes laced with worry got their attention. But seeing her march towards Spiers, that is what scared them the most. No one even dared to stare that man in the eyes of that man. Yet there she went, the look of fury within her. They watched for the show as they went to reach out to stop her, but they couldn’t think of which one they feared more. An angry female medic, or a murder crazed paratrooper officer. They just wanted to wait and see.

“Ronald Speirs!” she yelled. The officer turned around with questioning eyes. But they softened slightly as he saw her. But when he saw the anger on her features, he narrowed his eyes at her. Y/N took her helmet off her head and shoved it into his chest. “Are you an absolute idiot?!” Y/N yelled. Leaving the rest of the men within Easy to have their eyes bulge out of their heads. Ronald was just as shocked in all honesty. Not only was he not used to the other men talking to him like that. Coming from his wife, it was a shock. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed! And what would I do? I would be stuck in this war alone!” she yelled into his face. Pressing her pointer finger into his chest. Now the men were confused. What was she going on about?

“Come on, Y/N. I had to do it,” he tried to say to defend himself. His voice wasn’t as harsh as normal. He looked down at the woman and reached to place a fond hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t even try to touch me right now, Ronald! I’m so mad at you right now! You had me scared half to death on that field. I didn't even pray and I sat on the field while patching up a trooper, muttering prayers. What would I have done if you got shot? I would half to patch you up and do you understand how terrifying that is for me?! We are fucking married you asshole! And it seems like you don’t care sometimes! Even if it is a good hunk of cash, I don’t want that ten thousand dollars if you die!” she yelled. The men of Easy had their mouths hanging open as Ronald was finally left speechless for once in his military career. Staring down at her woman as her chest heaved up and down. But when she realized what she had actually said, the blush from the cold on her face changed to the blush of feeling embarrassed. She just spat out their secret. “I.. I’m sorry,” she said. But in a few moments, Ronald snagged her waist and yanked her forward. Planting his lips onto hers. Y/N raised her hands in shock as her eyes opened wide.

Ronald pulled away as he smiled softly at how shocked Y/N was. Liebgott and Toye looked at each other while Perconte and Luz sat there in shock. Small smiles coming to their faces as the company bursts out into cheer. Winters and Nixon standing in front of all of them chuckling.

The group approached Y/N as she kept her face to the side to hide the blush. “So when the hell were you going to tell us this? How long have you all been together? Married even!” Gaurnere said with a smile yet shocked looked in his eyes. Y/N held her left hand up to show the silver band on her ring finger. He didn’t show it, but Ronald had the same band on his right hand. He had stolen them when scuffling through some town. They fit perfectly onto their fingers and it was just them with each other.

“Three years. We started dating in the middle of Toccoa. Got married about a year ago,” she said softly. Dropping her hand to the side of her as she scratched the back of the neck with the other. A small, yet shy smile on her lips. “So I guess the cat is out of the bag,” she said softly, a chuckle following out soon after. Chewing on her bottom lip as Ronald draped an arm across her shoulders and stared down at all the boys.

“Yeah. That means if I see any of you soldiers flirting with my wife, I’ll have your heads. Now scram. You guys have jobs to do,” he told them. The men piped up with a “Yes, sir” then ran off. Laughing and joking in shock. Y/N smiled at Ronald and pulled away softly.

“As much as I would love and be your wife, we would have to wait till later on. I have duties along as you do too,” she said softly. Standing on the toes of her boots to press a soft kiss on his cheek with her chapped lips. Ronald smiled softly and nodded. Handing her helmet back to her. “I will see you later on, Captain,” she said with a soft smile. Turning around and walking off towards Roe. Placing her helmet back onto her head as she walked. Y/N always walked with pride. Her head held high. Even if she never noticed it, Ronald always noticed it. And it always made him fall even harder for her.

Nixon approached his fellow officer. Patting his shoulder softly. Captain Speirs turned around to look at the man. “So Mr.Speirs, it seems you are soft for your wife after all. I mean, letting her talk to you like that and all,” he teased. The officer just grunted and shoved his hand off of his shoulder. Furrowing his eyebrows as he could feel his blush crawl up onto his cheeks.

“Aw shut it, would you, Nixon? Why don’t you search for alcohol somewhere, you drunk,” he huffed. Only to have Nicon stifle a laugh in return. Nixon looked at Ronald’s back and turned. Going to walk towards their new main headquarters within the town of Foy.

“Whatever you say, Speirs,” he said walking into the distance. Waving him off as he walked. Ronald just grunted again and ignored the man. But his eyes went to look back at the female in the distance. She was already carrying crates between helping Paratroopers that came to her with problems. He smiled softly as he looked down at his ring. Then back up at his woman. She was having Roe place a bandage on the slice she had on her cheek. He didn’t feel jealous. He didn't feel anything negative. He found himself smiling at his wife. The woman he loved oh so dearly. He was never happier and he never regretted this decision. Not once, and he never will. And in that moment he promised himself. When this shithole of a war was over, he would give her the wedding she deserved for all her hard work. The biggest and best house man could create to keep her warm and safe. And all the kids she would ever want. He found his person. And Y/N was an angel walking on this Earth to him. Ronald would never let her go. He was going to keep her safe. She changed his way of thinking deep down. Ronald would worship the ground his little medic walked on. And it was only for her. No one else. No more, no less.

He was hers. And Y/N knew that. No doubt about it. Anyone who has seen her smile has known perfection. She instills grace in every common thing and divinity in every careless gesture. And Ronald knew he was graced to be the cause of that smile, that he would get to see her smile every day. It meant more to him than anything. He would live for her. He would die for her. He was in love with her. He breathed her essence. And that’s all he wanted for the rest of his life. And as did Y/N. They were made for each other. Their hearts beat the same. Their mind’s were opposite, but that’s what conjoined them.

Y/N and Ronald Speirs were the definition of soulmates. Their lives would be spent together. Never apart. They were the flames that kept each other going and moving. They would be together to the end. No doubt about it.

#band of brothers imagine #band of brothers memes #band of brothers headcanon #band of brothers meme #band of brothers #ronald speirs #ron speirs #ronald speirs imagine #hbo #hbo war #hbo mini series #hbo war imagines #HBO Series #hbo imagine

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staticscreenwriting · 3 years

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The loneliest time of the year || Part two

Part 2 of 4

Summary: With a broken heart and the fear of having failed as a father, Frankie returns to his parents house for Christmas. What is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year feels quite lonely. Though when an old friend shows up unexpectedly with her young son in tow, Frankie’s Christmas seems to gain a little more happiness. Can they help each other fight the ghosts of their pasts and overcome their fears ?

A/N: This is part of my 12 days of Christmas / Advent special. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Four messed up pies

By the morning of December 9th a heavy blanket of snow rests upon the world like a tick coat of marshmallow fluff.

A restlessness surges through Frankie as he turns from his left to his right to his back then repeats the process all over again. He kicks away the blankets then pulls them back. Sleep doesn’t come easy these days. In fact sleep hasn’t come easy in a while. It’s a price you have to pay for leading the life he leads, has led. For doing the job he did. You see things, bad things, and they stay with you. Not always but in the quiet moments they creep back into your mind and all you can do is stare and hope they fade again soon. Fill your brain with other things. Occupy your mind.

It’s moments like these that his fingers are twitching and his body is aching for release. For something to numb his mind. Help him forget.

There aren’t a lot of things that Frankie is proud of. In fact he can count them on one hand. One of them is his ability to fly. He's a damn good pilot … most of the time. (He is when someone doesn’t force him to navigate an overloaded plane across the Andes). He’s proud of Rosie. Despite his flaws and shortcomings he managed to create something so utterly perfect, that’s something to be proud of. And the. There’s the little coin in the pocket of his jacket. The one he fumbles with whenever he’s anxious or stressed. It’s gold and smooth and it proudly displays a big number 10 in the middle of a triangle on the front of the coin.

10 months. That’s a proud achievement.

It could be more. It should be more! He really tried but after coming home from Colombia, one man less than they went in, after his girlfriend broke up with him and took Rosie with her. After everything. He needed the psi to stop. Just for one goddamn minute. He felt immediate regret wash over him when he woke up the next morning. Called Pope. Entered a 12 step program.

10 months and he feels better. He likes himself more now. But in those 10 months the voices have gotten louder, the images clearer, his heart feels heavier.

With sleep being so far out of reach, he kicks off the blanket and drags his body out of bed. The smell of coffee hits his nose as soon as he steps out of his room, it drifts from the kitchen all the way up the stairs.

His parents are sitting by the kitchen counter, mom holding onto a big steaming mug of coffee while his dad is deeply invested in the morning. Paper, glasses perched low on his nose. This is home, it sends him straight back to his childhood. If only, he thinks, if only he could provide this sense of warmth and domesticity for his own child.

A knock on the front door shakes him from his thoughts. As he swings it open, a sharp sting of cold winter air whips at him, nips at his nose, his ears and his bare feet.

“Frankie hey, oh sorry did I wake you?”

(Y/N) is once again bundled up in layers of cozy clothes, keeping her warm and sheltered from the harsh weather. She looks cute. Absolutely fucking adorable. But in that moment, he doesn’t really notice that. Doesn’t notice Leo standing behind her either. His entire attention rests on the steaming pie she holds in her hands.

“You made a pie?”

“She made 4.” Leo speaks up, his voice dripping with irritation and annoyance.

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, dude!”

Frankie regards the exchange with a fond smile pulling at the corners of his lips. There’s something so distinctly familiar in the way she interacts with her son, so unapologetically her. The way she’s always been. But now grown up entirely. A mother.

“Why did you make 4 pies?” He asks, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Well I didn’t plan on making 4. The first one I mistook salt for sugar so you can imagine how it tasted. The second one I put way too much sugar in, might’ve been trying to compensate for my mistake with the first one but yeah that one did end up in the trash as well. The third … well I got pretty invested in an episode of unsolved mysteries and forgot it was in the oven so it turned out um — “

“Black. It was burned to a crisp.” Leo chimes up again, this time more amused than annoyed by his mother’s baking escapades.

“Yeah. It burned. But number 4 is looking pretty good.”

She looks up at Frankie with a smile so radiant it rivals the sun reflecting on the snowy ground. Pride shines in her eyes as she holds the pie towards him.

“Did you make me a pie?”

“Not exactly. It’s mostly for your folks. They agreed to watch this one while I got shopping for his Christmas presents.” (Y/N) explains, her tumb motioning towards the little boy over her shoulder. “This is a thank you to them for being literal angels. “

“Oh man you wouldn’t be saying that if you had to live with them growing up. I can’t tell you how many times dad unplugged my console while I was in the middle of a game.”

It’s a joke, of course it is. He really lucked out in the parents department and he’s not too proud or too shy to admit it. Maybe, he thinks, the good parent gene might’ve skipped a generation with him. His ex will surely agree with that statement.

“Hey uh — you mind having some company while shopping ?”

“You wanna go shopping for toys?”

“I need to get some presents for my daughter.”

“Oh that’s right, you have a kid too. “

He doesn’t blame her for not remembering. He doesn’t strike people as the father type. And really, he hasn’t seen his little one in quite some time.doesn’t see her during the entire Christmas time. Is he really much of a father anyway?

“Sure yeah! I’d love some company.”

Maybe, Frankie thinks, this will help him drown out the voice. Those that tell him bad thoughts, whisper mean things. Maybe it will help him filter out the images. The blood. The suffering.

Frankie was never overly fond of the extreme commercialization of what should be a peaceful family holiday. But maybe this year he is,a little bit at least. Because those bright colors, the loud noises, the crowds, the ads assaulting you from every corner, that all will help drown out the dark. At least for a moment.

“Alright lemme just get changed real quick.”

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Five days a week

“What the fuck is this?”

“It’s uh … it’s a … a game?”

“A game where you have to catch a piece of … poop.”

A wave of laughter tumbles from (Y/N)’s lips as Frankie holds up the brightly colored box, proudly displaying a drawing of a smiling turd.

“It’s so dumb. And that says a lot coming from me, I can appreciate a good fart joke. But this is …. this is just dumb. “

“ It's what the kids these days want. I guess …”

“Would you buy this for Leo?”

“Absolutely not,” (Y/N) replies before taking the box from his hand and placing it back on the shelf between several more games of a similar kind. “But he wouldn’t like it anyway. Leo likes books and animals and fantasy movies. He’s so smart sometimes I wonder where he got it from.”

“You kidding me?” Frankie exclaims, “you’re so smart and if I remember correctly, you always carried around books when you were younger.”

(Y/N) just shrugs at his words though Frankie can’t make out a faint blush of red dusting her cheeks. “Leo is such an easy kid, always has been. Sometimes I wonder if that’s really the way he is or if he just tries to be that way because of me. Because he knows that I have to do all the parenting by myself and he feels he’s responsible for helping me along.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re doing good with him. Least you know what to get him for Christmas, what he cares about, what he’s interested in.”

His heart feels so heavy. His words seem to weigh down on his tongue like a stack of bricks. To admit your own failures to yourself is one thing, to admit them to someone else is quite another story.

“What do you mean ?”

“I — I have no idea what to get for Rosie. I don’t even know when I’ll see her next. She stays with her mom 5 days a week. I only get her on the weekends and even then her mom often finds a reason not to let her stay. Special occasions? I don’t get to spend those with her. Bet she doesn’t even recognize me anymore next time. She’s just a baby …”

This can’t be happening. He’s not going to start crying in the middle of a Toys R Us like a hyperactive toddler on a temper tantrum. Not in front of a beautiful girl who has been nothing but kind to him. This can’t be happening.

(Y/N)’s hand settles on his arm with a gentle touch. Almost as if she’s afraid he’ll break any minute now. And honestly, he might.

“Tell me about Rosie. I know she means the world to you and that’s all that matters Frankie. You’re trying. You’re trying so hard and I’m sure there’s lots about her that you know that no one else does. She’s your baby too. So tell me about her and we’ll figure out what to get her.”

And so they sit down on a swing set, one that’s definitely not meant for adults to sit on and have deep discussions, and Frankie starts talking. Once he starts it’s like a cork has been popped. It pours out of him, all of his pride and admiration and love for Rosie. All that has been brewing for so long now bubbles over.

“... and she, she loves cuddling onto my chest and just listens to me. She doesn’t understand a word but she looks at me with her big beautiful eyes and it feels like I’m telling her all the biggest secrets of the universe the way she looks at me. Sometimes I sing and she — she falls asleep immediately.”

“That’s adorable.”

“Nah I think it's because my rendition of Eric Clapton is just real bad and boring.”

Their laughter is quiet, almost as if they are afraid of breaking the spell of this moment. Sometimes you find yourself at your most vulnerable during the big moments of your life and sometimes you do in the middle of a Toys R Us, sitting on a swingest that just barely holds your weight while a plastic giraffe looks over your shoulder and Kacey Musgrave’s rendition of “I’ll be home for Christmas” plays over the same overhead speakers that have been installed there in 1983.

“I just don’t want to disappoint her.”

He’s already disappointing himself and that hurts bad enough.

“Frankie, let me be honest with you. She’s a baby, she’s not gonna care what you get for her. This is more about you than her. Whatever you get she’s gonna like it. Babies are easy to please, gets harder the older they get. We’ll find something cute for her but um … I think you should call her.”

“She’s a baby, she doesn’t have a phone yet.”

“ Really? I had Leo on a newborn data plan the second he popped out.”

Frankie raises his eyebrow in confusion.

“I was joking you dingus. Of course you’re gonna call her mom. There’s this thing, I don’t know if you’ve heard about it, it’s called FaceTime. You can actually see ther person on the other side. “

“ Very funny. I know what facetime is … “

“ Then call them. You said it yourself, the little one doesn’t understand a word of what you’re saying but that doesn’t matter. You’re there. You’re showing interest and taking initiative. It shows you care. And I think seeing her might be good for you too, even if it’s not in person.”

“ You know, that sounds like a pretty good plan. “

“ Yeah? “ she asks him, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes, in her voice, in her entire being.

“ Yeah. “

“ Alright! Now let’s go find some presents for the little princess. May I suggest a cellphone? “

This time her laughter isn’t quite. It’s loud and radiant and the way her own joke amuses herself, is so goddamn endearing to Frankie.

“ Ah shut up. “ he replies though his voice too is dipped in amusement as he throws his arm around her shoulders and they walk down the shiny linoleum floor, past dolls and teddy bears and Star Wars action figures.

And it feels right. Like the fit together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces slotting into place.

And that feeling is damn scary.

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Six-hour flights.

The floor of (Y/N)’s living room is covered in wrapping paper. Reds and greens and silvers and golds hide what once was a nice dark cherry wood floor. There are bows and ribbons and gift tags in all shapes and sizes and colors.

“ Looks like Santa’s workshop in here, “ Frankie exclaims as he drops down on the floor next to her. All the presents they’ve purchased, neatly lined up in front of them, ready to be wrapped. Though to be fair, Frankie is quite sure he’s not gonna do a lot of wrapping himself. Sometimes you gotta admit defeat. And he ain’t too proud to admit that he is a horrible, horrible wrapper.

“ Yeah, I know I’m making a big fuss over things like this. Wrapping and the tree and stuff like that. I just — I don’t know it just makes me happy when I see that my actions put a smile on the faces of the people I love. “

“ Oh I wasn't judging. It’s sweet. “

For a while they stay in comfortable silence. Just them and the radio playing old Christmas songs. (Y/N)’s hands do quick work on the presents, Santa’s elves would be jealous.

It’s the first time in a long time, that silence doesn’t make him feel uncomfortable. That it doesn’t open up the gates for the voices to grow louder and the bad images to consume his head. No, this silence feels comfortable. It’s soft and warm. It’s tinted in golds and reds.

Maybe, he thinks, maybe seeking the company of someone who exudes joy and warmth does him good. Someone who knows him but not the bad. Never the bad. The faults, yes, the fears even, but not the blood that stains his hands or the vices he so desperately tries to fight.

“ What was the best Christmas present you ever got? “ (Y/N) speaks up as she glides a pair of scissors along the ribbon turning it into shiny curls.

“ Millennium Falcon playset.”

“ You and a million other little boys. “

“True. What can I say, I was easily pleased. What was yours ?”

(Y/N) thinks for a moment before a wistful smile settles on her face.

“My bubblegum pink roller skates.”

“Oh, I remember those!”

And he did. Squeaky pink roller skates with 4 pastel blue wheels and glittery silver laces.

“I remember the following summer all you did was skate up and down the street. “

“Yeeeah but that wasn’t entirely because of the skates.”

Frankie combs his hair from his face, he really needs to get it cut, and looks at her in confusion. “Huh?”

Another chuckle falls from (Y/N) ‘s lips. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”

“ Notice what?”

“That I had the biggest crush on you.”

Frankie is grateful for the fact that he’s not taking a sip of his drink right then, it surely would’ve ended in a spit-take. He was a nerdy kid, a nerdy teenager too. Kinda shy, a little lost. He wasn’t usually the boy that girls fancied.

“Me? You had a crush on me? “

It doesn’t make sense, not really. She was the one that was fascinating and exciting. Though he didn’t think of her that way when they were kids, he knew she was beautiful even back then. He hadn’t been interested in her romantically because she was a few years younger but that didn’t meanie didn’t realize the magic she held.

“Yes, you. You were cool, Frankie. You were older and you knew stuff about cars and planes and you could name every Star Wars spaceship and you had a skateboard. “

“I was a horrible skater.”

“Sure but it wasn’t so much about the skating as it was about the aesthetic. You were cool and you still are cool”

Frankie shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly. She thought he was cool, still does. No one ever thought he was cool. He isn’t a smooth talker like Pope and even he himself can admit that look wise he isn’t even playing in the same league as Will and Benny. But if (Y/N) thinks he’s cool that must mean something. Right ?

“You were the one traveling all over the world with your dad and you thought I was cool?”

She sets down the scissors, let’s her hands rest on her lap. There’s a sense of nervousness exuding from her now. Like the words she wants to speak are resting on the tip of her tongue and yet they are so difficult to speak.

“Maybe that was part of it too. I never had a real home. Nothing stable at least. Except for my grandparents’ house. This was home and you were, you are, forever entwined with my idea of home. Sometimes I missed this place so much that I’d sit in my room and my little brain would think of all the fun adventures we could go on if only I was old enough to hop on a 6 hour flight by myself. I’d ask grandma about you every time I called and she always told me what trouble you got into.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yeah and that only made you more exciting in my eyes. Then she’d offer to let me speak to you but I was too chicken shit to do it. Thought you might look right through my facade and realize how into you I was.”

“I was so oblivious, I can assure you I wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Well … it’s too late now.”

“I guess so. Just — next time you fall in love with me let me know, alright.”

Her laugh rings through the room like bells, like songs, like whispers of a childhood magic long forgotten.

“That only sounds fair. It’s a deal.”

“Good, now …. would you mind wrapping my gifts for Rosie?”

“Nope, but in return would you come see Leo’s play with me next week? My dad can’t come and I think Leo would like to have some more people there that support him. And he seems to think you’re cool so …”

“Huh guess if you both think so it must be true.”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Of course I’ll come. “

She smiles and it sends a weird flicker through him. Like fire, like electricity.

“ Now let me teach you how to curl the ribbon properly.”

#francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #frankie morales x you #francisco morales imagine #frankie morales imagines #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier imagines #catfish imagine #catfish x reader #catfish x you #jos2020xmasspecial

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batbobsession · 3 years

Text

“What does it mean to be a father?”

Maurice will never know how he got to be in such a position as this, and he certainly wishes for a handkerchief—or something to wipe his paint-stained hands with—to be nearby. He’s sitting next to the most powerful man in the land, after all, though at the moment, his looks did not match his title.

The regent—or is he the king? Maurice wonders—is dressed in a simple coat and trousers, both of which are an earthy brown. The absence of the wig reveals natural greying hair, and without any bracelets or jewels he looks quite…normal. Nothing at all like the paintings in the West Wing.

Even more of an interest, he muses, is the look in the man’s eyes. They are a hard, rather miserable gray, a shade Maurice would only use when painting a thunderstorm or a cloudy night. But his expression does not match such a sad color. The man’s hands are folded politely in his lap, and on his face, there is a genuine look of interest.

He somehow looks skeptical even without the skepticism, Maurice thinks, and tries to compose himself before speaking.

“Forgive me, Sire, I believe I misheard you.”

“Please don’t,” the man replied, and for a second Maurice’s thoughts flew to the etiquette lists Cogsworth had so graciously made for him, wondering if he had said the wrong thing.

“I have been neglecting my duties for years now,” he continued. “I am no more a royal than you are.”

Oh. Maurice opens his mouth, compelled to reassure him that it isn’t his fault, that magic is a fickle thing, but something stops him. There’s a flicker in that gaze, hinting that he meant more than what was said.

The old artist did not know much about Adam’s father, only that he was absent the night the curse was cast, meaning he had forgotten about the inhabitants of the castle just like everyone in Villeneuve. Maurice had arrived with Monsieur D’Arque, just as the sun rose above the highest turrets and towers. In his search to locate his daughter, he had noticed this same man, haggard yet joyful in the presence of his son. He had no idea he was staring at the true master of the castle until Lumiére—the candlestick, he still couldn’t believe that—had addressed him as such.

“Well, I…I wish I had an answer that would suffice, Monsieur,” Maurice finally says. “To tell the truth, I’m not much of an expert on the matter.”

“And yet your daughter is one of the most remarkable women I have ever had the pleasure of meeting,” the king replies. “Most of the princesses I would have picked for my son would only have their titles going for them. Shallow, easily influenced, lured here under the prospect of an alliance. Your daughter is—”

“Perfect.” The word is out of Maurice’s mouth before he can think of what to say. He stares hard at his hands. One has a rather large smudge of yellow on it.

“Certainly,” the king admits. “I’ve not found fault with her yet, and I usually have a knack for that sort of thing. Strange how things dissipate over time.”

Maurice blinked, again struggling to speak properly, but now there was something like a cloud over them, and he wondered if the other man knew about the curse at all.

“Your—Monsieur,” Maurice begins again, “I—”

“Maurice, isn’t it?” he interrupts.

“Oui, Monsieur.”

“I am asking this genuinely, as someone who has no experience in the matter.” He is silent for a moment, and stares out the window. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen my son, and I’m sure his memories of me are…few and far between.”

Maurice notices it then. There is something keeping this man back. The way he speaks of the prince is not as a son, but as an unapproachable. Something that he is hesitant to think of.

Is this man really Adam’s father?

“You believe that you cannot father the prince because of your absence? Is there something you’re afraid of?”

Sacre…the yellow smear now seems alarmingly bright. Since when did such a color exist?

He had thought that his initial fear of speaking to a royal was enough to stay his tongue, but…

It’s almost as if he has not spoken at all. The king retreats into himself, eyes glazing over, head inclined, on the verge of remembering, but not quite there.

“I don’t know. I’ve forgotten how. But I’d like to try again.”

Maurice blinks, and the cloud dissipates. This is something that the curse had very little to do with. Something that could have very easily been Adam’s childhood, or lack thereof. He had never let the lives of the noblemen grace his thoughts, but now he imagines that because of their upbringings and various duties to attend to, they never had time to enjoy.

The man sitting across from him probably has no idea what rain smells like.

Maurice folds his hands and smiles.

“The reason I happened upon this castle was because I was attacked by wolves, and I was seeking shelter from an oncoming storm. I let myself in, as the lamps were lit, but no one was inside.”

Maurice pauses, but there was no sign of anger from the other man, so he kept going.

“After I left, I noticed that the garden—your garden, I suppose—was filled to the brim with roses. They were white, absolutely pristine despite the snow. Though I was in quite a state of distress when I left, I remembered the last thing my daughter asked of me was that I bring her back a rose.” Maurice chuckles. “In hindsight, that action could have cost me my life, but I still would have done it, thinking back on it now.”

“Pardon me,” the other man interrupts, “it could have cost you your life?”

“Ah—” Maurice halts, staring. He quickly shifts his attention to a paintbrush he left by the window. Perhaps this man does not know the entirety of it. Surely, he could explain, but this man is still a stranger. And Adam’s father. It��s not his place to tell. “In a way, yes. But there’s no need for concern. If there had been a threat before, it has long passed.”

In the window, Maurice can see the young boy, Christopher, and his mother, playing outside. Maurice cannot see them smiling, but he can tell just by looking.

I suppose I have a knack for those kinds of things.

“I’m a lucky man,” he admits. “I was able to use my passion to create a living for us. But I would burn every canvas if it led to her happiness. I would give up anything and everything for the sake of my little girl.”

The king is quiet, and for a moment Maurice thinks he got through to him. Then he said “And your wife? Where is she in this wonderful family?”

It is Maurice’s turn to be quiet. He closes his eyes and her face swims before his, smiling and proud, tears in her eyes. He is able to smile back, and he thanks God for it.

“Her mother died of plague a few months after she was born.”

There is nothing from the king. In the silence, Maurice turns his hands over in his lap, wondering if he should say more. Instead, he glances up, and the king’s expression is one of a man trapped. He stares at Maurice with such sympathetic agony that Maurice wonders how long he should hold his gaze.

He’s caught in something, Maurice thinks, but does not look away.

In this moment, the answer forms.

“Sir, if I may,” he begins, “I think the answer you are searching for is just to be there.”

The other man snaps out of his reverie. “I beg your pardon?”

“Be there. Smile when Adam notices you watching him. Answer any question he asks as honestly and as truthfully as you can. Support him in everything he does, even if you don’t like it.”

“But that seems too simple.”

“It’s the hardest thing in the world,” Maurice replies. He goes to gesture to his studio—before cringing inwardly at how haphazard and disorganized it is. “When I was a young man, I lived in Montmarte, in an old repurposed windmill that my wife was able to earn. When Belle was born, I—I wanted everything to be flawless. I felt like she would never experience any of life’s troubles, not as long as I was around. I never wanted her to stop smiling. Of course, life will never work out the way you want it to.”

The king nods. “I’ve no right to call my life treacherous. But wandering these halls again, it’s so different. Familiar.” He raises an eyebrow as his gaze travels upwards towards the chandelier. “But lost.”

“To be lost is to be blind to everything around you,” Maurice replies. “In a way, I was cursed to be perceptive in everything I did. I saw everything in painstaking detail. So much so that the only way to be rid of it was to paint it.

“But in recent years,” he continues, “I’ve begun to forget small things. How many gears fit into a music box. How many folds to draw in a frilly dress. And almost as if to correct my memory, my daughter will round the corner with the correct gear in her hand or twirl for me until I remember.”

The man tilts his head, but Maurice can tell that he’s getting it.

Good, he thinks inwardly, I fear I’ve started to ramble.

“Though our relationship needed no improvements before, I’m grateful for my weakening senses,” he finishes, “because now I am constantly reminded of how much she means to me.”

“You’ve made no mistakes, sir, it seems,” is the response. Maurice laughs.

“Oh, don’t say that; I’ve made plenty of mistakes. There was a time, after her mother died, when I refused to acknowledge it.” This sparks something in the king’s dark eyes, and Maurice pushes on, refusing to let him think of it. “It wasn’t until Belle decided to find her mother on her own that I knew I couldn’t hide from it any longer. And there have been moments like that as long as I’ve lived.”

“Sometimes those moments seem to last forever.”

Maurice grins then, at what the king probably thought was a morbid statement. But that is what makes life beautiful.

“You, sir, are not blind, so you are not lost,” he decides. “In fact, the very action of asking me for advice shows that you see your son, and you see the bond that you want with him. But pay no attention to my story; I’m a humble painter with no knowledge of the world inside these exquisite walls.”

He gestures to a painting in the far corner of his studio. His daughter stands there, mid-twirl, the sun on her smiling face and a few rose petals drifting in her wake. Her joy is his now, and he will experience it every time he looks at her.

“Maurice, I possess none of the detail-oriented capabilities of an artist like yourself—”

“No,” Maurice interrupts, and this time he’s not afraid. “It’s just smudges on a canvas. I don’t see every detail anymore. But I see the emotion, and that’s far more important than any scrutinizing on my part.”

Maurice leans forward, smiling. “Be there. And if you truly want it, the rest will come.”

The man nods then, and Maurice can see that his words have somewhat fallen through the other’s sadness. “Imagine finding such a profound man in a village somewhere. I’m very lucky, aren’t I.”

“I’m an old fool,” Maurice assures him. “The villagers used to call me crazy.”

“I imagine they stopped when you moved in,” the king murmured.

“No,” Maurice shakes his head, “they stopped when your son greeted them.”

The man’s lips part in surprise, and for a split-second Maurice can see a smile on his face. “I suppose that’s very like him.”

Then the moment melts away, the two rise, and he offers his hand. Maurice freezes. He’s not wearing gloves. The handkerchief is once again at the forefront of his mind. But he’s also not one to leave a hand unshaken, so he takes it.

“Merci. I would like to visit with you again, if my presence was not a bother to you.”

“O-of course,” Maurice responds. “But please, a word of warning. My study…is not a sight for sore eyes at the moment.”

“A pleasure to meet you, sir,” is his reply, and he’s gone. Maurice can hear a second set of footsteps tailing him, and he wonders if the attendant heard the conversation or not.

But instead, he sits back down and stares out the window. Chapeau and Lumiére have joined the Potts in the courtyard now. The roses are in full bloom. It’s a lovely picture. He’ll have to remember it for when he buys a bigger canvas.

He raises his paintbrush. The smear of yellow is gone. He can feel tears coming.

“Be there,” he murmurs, and adds a stroke of carnation pink. “And the rest will come.”

He glances at one of the roses outside. Have I done enough, mon ange?

Tagging those I think might enjoy this: @lumiereswig @tinydooms @naturepointstheway @im-too-obssesed @morgaine2005 @forr-everrmorre @greensearcher @firstherofirstlove @ginnyweatherby @sweetfayetanner

#batb2017 #batbfics #maurice #adam's father #this was supposed to be my father's day fic #SORRY FOR THE LATENESS #I hope I haven't lost it #I wrote a fic YEARS ago #about Adam's father being alive and regretting his actions #This is a sequel #enjoy best dad and worst dad having a conversation

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glynnisi · 3 years

Photo

ShieldShock Holiday Fic 2020 FOR @ava-rosier

At Ao3: Snowbound Christmas

Prompts:

-There's only one hotel room left and it's a blizzard outside and There Is Only One Bed.

-Either at a Mall or an Airport during the busy holiday season, a villain is trying to steal/ruin the holidays and Steve and Darcy, who are both there for Reasons, team up to foil the dastardly plot.

-When Darcy wore her new, risqué Captain America xmas/holiday sweater to work that day, she didn't expect that he would actually...y'know...SEE it.

---

So, it’s been a while since I wrote. Hi, friends!!! :) But I adore ShieldShock still and will always adore @mcgregorswench and the ShieldShock Holiday Fic Exchange. I tried to capture the feel of your prompts, @ava-rosier . I’ve done holiday in the airport before but can NEVAH get too much of THERE IS ONLY ONE BED. Hope you’re having a wonderful holiday, enjoying seeing 2020 finally end, and that you’ll enjoy your ShieldShock holiday fic gift!!! :)

---

Snowbound Christmas

Darcy startled as the car door scraped open over deep snow and a gust of wind blew in to steal her breath. It was even colder than the previous times. Steve could move fast, but not faster than the blizzard winds. He shook his head as he slammed the door closed behind him, sealing them in the relative calm. The only sound at first was the rustle of her shivering. He turned the car on again and they both savored relief as the air around them warmed.

She shifted position in her seat. “Steve, my friend! No room in the Inn?” Darcy tried to sound upbeat rather than weary. “I’d so hoped the eleventh try would be the charm. I mean, those two were raved over in Google as ‘simple’ and ‘budget’. You wouldn’t think that would draw a crowd.” She continued to watch the snow fall, eyes going out of focus.

Steve shook his head and pushed his snow-damp hair back. “I tried all five places in the village. Cut across town on foot rather than wasting gas.” He frowned. “I’m too stubborn. Should ‘a stopped twenty miles back where there were more possibilities. I’m sorry, Darcy.” He kept his eyes on the road as he started slowly moving. The snow was falling hard, gusting winds whipping it around them with abandon. Even with four-wheel drive, good snow tires, and perfect reflexes- Steve didn’t dare go more than fifteen miles per hour. Driving was hazardous, more by the minute.

Darcy shrugged her shoulders. “The forecast was off. I thought we had more time before it got bad, too. I swear! I only closed my eyes for like twenty seconds. When I opened them again it looked like I’d missed seeing three inches fall. You must be freezing. The other motels are two miles away, aren’t they?” She shivered, both sympathetically and because the car was still warming up.

“I’ll be fine.” Steve sighed again and glanced at Darcy’s phone before staring ahead of them again. “Any other ideas?”

Darcy squinched up her features, “well…” She was glad Steve focused his attention on the road. She worried that her idea wouldn’t be well received. “We could ask the others for suggestions? Surely Tony owns something between here and the City.” Darcy held her breath. She’d seen Steve and Tony clash at the Avengers Upstate Base enough to know that he didn’t want to ask Tony’s help.

Steve reached in his jacket pocket and handed his phone to Darcy, groaning in resignation. “Had the same thought. See if he’s replied?” He steeled himself.

Darcy laughed merrily as she read his incoming texts.

“That bad?” Steve’s frown lines deepened.

Darcy’s lips twitched. “Nah, buddy-o. Tony’s busting your chops about being a damsel in distress. He reminds you that he’s been away from Pepper for a week and has injuries to rest up from. Says to cool your heels at a summer lake cabin of hers. Coordinates and key code provided. And to resist the urge to crash dramatically into the lake as it wouldn’t be very festive of you. Cabin can be drafty, but was cleaned recently. Which, yay! They were going to come up last week for a dating anniversary celebration before the weather changed and he took that mission.”

Steve nodded and blew out an impatient breath. He glanced at Darcy again, “does anyone other than Jane know you’re with me?” His tone sounded wary.

Again, Darcy shrugged and avoided his gaze. “I dunno. If the local mechanic didn’t have sick kids at home, I’d be driving myself through this like I planned. Probably would’ve crashed in a snow drift by now or be caught in the sadly-parked madness on the interstate you were smart enough to skip. Why? I’m sorry that coming for me put you behind schedule. You’re too kind, putting yourself out for little ole me. You probably have plans with close friends, or something.” She trailed off, uncertain if that was a fair assumption regarding Steve. As much time as they’d spent together since they met over a year before, he seemed to always be working.

Darcy frowned, sad for Steve. And for herself. She’d tried in vain to shake the crush she had on the loneliest Avenger. He seemed determined to stay lonely and fill his time almost entirely with work. Whenever he came to Jane’s lab, she struggled not to let her extreme thirst for him show. She ended up babbling most times, griping about stuff and talking nonsense. He came by the lab a lot, so she had many embarrassing memories to cringe about.

“Not really. And don’t apologize, Darcy. I wanted to help you. I’m glad you’re with me rather than stuck, or worse.” Steve chose to ignore part of her question for the moment. “I was just going by Tony and Pepper’s party at the Tower to keep some peace between us. Then I figured I might go to Brooklyn to see the crazy lights they put up there these days, and then maybe head down to D.C. to see Sam. Nothing firm. No big deal.” He turned into a skid and eased up on the gas. Anyone else would have registered alarm at the need to maneuver like that. The majority of drivers would have wrecked. Sleet mixed in with the precipitation.

Darcy nodded, silent. She clicked on the coordinates Tony had sent and turned up the volume on the phone directions. When there was a pause, she spoke up, “still sorry to keep you from your party, lights, and Sam. I’m relieved that you weren’t just planning to ignore the holiday at the Upstate Base again this year, though. No offense, but hearing you did that last year made me mad at you.” She let out an indignant huff and blinked back tears.

He raised his brows, but didn’t reply at first. Finally, not wanting to seem rude, Steve asked, “mad? Why?” He fought against both flickers of hope and melancholy.

Steve tried not to wish for what he believed he couldn’t have. He’d found that Darcy won friends easily, but rarely let anyone get close enough to know her the way he’d like to know her. She kept things light and funny, using her humor as a shield against intimacy. He admired her ability to deflect when she used it with others, lamented it when she used it with him.

The first day they met, Steve fell hard for the brash, strong-willed, funny, gorgeous dame. And then he met her boyfriend, Ian. Even after that relationship ended, Darcy made it crystal clear that she saw Steve only as a friend. Her emotional shield pushed him back like the strongest of force fields. She bristled if he held a door or pulled out a chair for her. She acted like it was weird if he did anything for her- like bringing her coffee when he was getting some for himself in Jane’s lab.

Also, there was Darcy’s apparent dislike of soldiers. She cursed agents and soldiers as ‘jack-booted thugs’ every time a piece Jane’s equipment misbehaved. He’d overheard Darcy rant to Jane about her sister’s hard life with a military guy Darcy disdained as ‘Soldier Boy’. Steve was a soldier. He'd never regretted it until it came between him and the only 21st century woman he’d met who captivated him.

Her tone as she spoke next brought Steve out of his reverie. “I know that those you love from your time were more like family to you… that you still mourn all you lost.” Darcy avoided looking at Steve, “But, I consider you a friend and I don’t like for anyone to treat my friends bad… especially, themselves. Thinking of you doing busy work and walking echoing halls alone. Imagining you eating frozen dinners and training alone while the rest of the world celebrated? Too sad. Awful. I wish you would’ve let me, I mean, someone, anyone, know that you didn’t have plans.” Darcy swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. She’d held that in for the better part of a year and was terrified that she’d overstepped enough to anger Steve. If her voice sounded brittle, she couldn’t help it. Her feelings for Steve ran deep. She’d taken one look at Steve Rogers and lost her heart irrevocably.

Steve shook his head and joked to offer one correction, “I hardly ever eat frozen dinners.” He cleared his throat. “What did you do for Christmas last year?” Steve’s tone was mild, unreadable. He’d spent a lot of the previous year’s holiday week reliving the pain of seeing Darcy being kissed by Ian under mistletoe. It was a harsh blow since he’d heard rumors that they’d broken up and dared hope for a chance with her. Thinking of that terrible moment still filled Steve with potent jealousy.

Darcy cut a glance Steve’s way. “I went to the usual lame lab holiday party, complete with joke gifts and too much mistletoe. Then, un-fun family time. As soon as I could escape my dumb sister Beth and ‘Soldier Boy’, I got back to Jane’s. I made Thor watch Christmas cartoons while I struggled to explain the pop nuances of them to him. We drank eggnog. I exchanged joke gifts with him and Jane and Erik. Then we all helped serve Christmas dinner at homeless shelter. And I ate too much and fell asleep on the couch at Jane’s place that night. I ‘peopled’.” She glared at Steve and repeated in an accusing tone, “’Peo-ple-d!’”

Darcy frowned as she also remembered Ian cornering her under mistletoe before Christmas. He tried to get back together with her until she threatened to tase him. It had cast a pall over Darcy’s entire holiday. That was one interaction with people she did NOT look back on fondly.

Steve chuckled weakly, “and you’re mad at me for not ‘people-ing?’”

“You never want anyone to pity you in any way, but then you do stupid stuff like that! I mean, I was drunk when Thor told me, but it made me CRY.” Darcy shook her head and looked away, frowning, angry. “Sorry. Said too much. Not my business. I know. Sorry.” She hunched her shoulders as though concerned he might offer a rebuke.

Steve's face fell into a sad grin. “No need to… It’s nice that you worry about me, Darcy. Thanks for that.” He resisted the urge to cover her hand with his. “I’m sorry I made you cry.” Genuine distress filled him, that she’d cried and that he had no right to offer comfort. Something in her reaction brought out his deepest protective instincts.

Careful to avoid distracting Steve from driving, Darcy poked his rock-hard bicep. “Pfft. Silly. You’re not alone, even if you try. You have friends. I’m your friend. You know that. Right?”

“Friends.” Steve nodded, grim. “Yeah. Thank you for being my friend, Darcy.” He sighed, long and low.

Darcy nodded, unable to speak around the lump in her throat.

---

Soon, they arrived at the coordinates. A tiny cabin nestled in the deepening snow. It was dark, but for a dim light visible through its large windows.

Darcy moaned, “finally.”

“I could carry…” Steve’s voice trailed off as Darcy threw her door open and jumped out into the knee-deep snow. She almost fell, but righted herself. The winds swirled snow and sleet all around her.

“Shit! Cold!” Darcy trudged with purpose towards the cabin. “So cold! And, eww, wet. Oh!” She input the code Tony had sent for the front door lock and shoved inside. Darcy kicked off her snow-covered boots and dropped her coat inside the front door. She scurried to the bathroom. “Some of us don’t have super bladder capacity!” Her brief view of the cabin interior was minimal. Dark shapes stood out against the eerie snow light through the windows.

Steve slammed his car door and followed. He shook his head and yelled back, “nobody has that” as he picked up Darcy’s coat, shook snow off, and hung it on a hook. He toed off his boots and set them and Darcy’s boots near the fireplace. Then, he peeled off his snow pants and hung them on a hook near the door. They’d kept his jeans dry.

“Don’t get your tights in a twist. I’m hurrying!” Darcy called from the bathroom.

Brows raised; Steve surveyed the cabin. He flicked light switches and swore under his breath as low, golden light bathed the tight space. The room was dominated by a low bed and floor to ceiling windows. A Christmas tree decorated with lights stood by the bed. There were at least a dozen pillows and a sheer hanging canopy laced with warm string lights over the bed. There was no sofa, only two reading chairs and a small table in front of the fireplace. A kitchenette took space along one wall. It had a well-stocked wine rack.

Mostly, there was the ridiculously romantic-looking bed. Face prickling with heated anxiety, Steve found a thermostat and started the heater. Then, he began to build a fire in the brick fireplace. The cabin was cold and the windows were more suited to airiness than warmth. The back walls were brick, attractive but cold in winter weather.

“Uh, Steve?” Darcy sounded sheepish; voice muffled by the bathroom door. “Can you hand me a blanket or look for a robe or something? I’m sorry to trouble you. My pants are soaked up to the knees and I can’t put them back on. They’re freezing. Wet with snow.”

Steve closed his eyes, still for several seconds. He looked around for a closet and saw instead a wardrobe. He grabbed a black silk robe, frowning at the sheer and gauzy red alternative hanging beside it. The top shelves held baskets of swimsuits, shorts, and other summer clothes. He took the black robe off the hangar and walked to the bathroom. He knocked and held out the robe, eyes averted. Then, he went back to work on the fire.

“Thanks, I didn’t think. Just ran to the bathroom. I…” Darcy stopped as she got a good look at the cabin. “Oh, holy… uh, night.” She cut a careful glance Steve’s way.

Steve shook his head and chuckled. “Something like that. Don’t worry. I can sleep on the floor. I’ve done worse.” He arranged another log in the growing flames and warmed his hands.

“You can NOT! Don’t be stupid. I won’t attack you. Promise. We both need to sleep and there’s room for two if we remove a few hundred pillows.” Darcy’s tone sounded more certain and stubborn as she talked. She rolled her eyes at him. “Make a line of pillows down the middle of the bed as a dividing line if you want to keep me away. Or, I can do it.” She frowned at him, set her jeans near the fire to dry, and moved to the kitchenette. Darcy opened the refrigerator, freezer, and cabinets to see what they had to work with. “Sorry about my coat and boots. I was gonna get them, I swear.”

Steve frowned, disliking her urgent anxiety. “No problem.”

Darcy opened a bottle of water and drank it. “I didn’t dare drink much water while we were stuck in the car, but I still needed a bathroom for at least the past hour.” She offered him a bottle, which he accepted and downed before returning his attention to his work. Darcy moved food from the freezer to the refrigerator to thaw. She opened a couple of cans of soup and put them on to simmer, and sat in a reading chair. “I checked the weather forecast while I was in the bathroom. We’re not getting out of here on our own power before tomorrow night at the earliest.” She tightened the belt on the robe and leaned towards the fire, hands outstretched. “Nice. Getting a little warmth there. Thanks.”

Steve excused himself to the restroom. On his return, he sat in the other chair. He watched the fire’s progress, then turned his attention to the deepening snow visible through the windows all around them. “Quieter now. Slowing down, or a lull before more blizzard.”

“Lull, according to radar. Fresh snow absorbs sound. Something about air between the flakes dampening vibrations.” When Steve gave her an impressed look, Darcy grinned, “I saw it in a meme on the Internet. Must be true.” She winked at him.

Steve returned her grin. “Internet. So helpful.”

“Except when it’s REALLY not.” She made a face, both sad and angry. “Beth met ‘Soldier Boy’ online. And, of course his worst notions get amplified there. Bleurgh.”

Careful, Steve dared, “what branch of the Military is your brother-in-law with?”

Darcy choked on water. “Br... Whaa?” She shook her head, hard. “God, no! Don’t say that. It might come true if you say it. Eww! Grandma Esther'd roll right out of her grave to beat the ever-living sh… heck… pardon me, out of Beth if she marries that Nazi wannabe.” Darcy shuddered dramatically. “Crud. They’ve been dating more than a year. And, Christmas… You may be right. Ugh.” She spoke as she texted into her phone, “‘If you marry him, I’ll give you kitty litter as a wedding present, used kitty litter. Dumbass. BTW I hate him. He’s awful.’ Ugh. Delete. Delete. Delete.”

Steve digested all this and stayed quiet. He noted with interest that Darcy’s cheeks reddened as though with embarrassment. In his experience she didn’t embarrass easily. Her plush lower lip jutted out in a pout. “Beth’s dating a racist faux-militia-type lunatic. She’s decided she’s Sub to his Dom and overlooks his politics and crazy behavior. It’s nauseating.” Darcy frowned, sad, “I don’t see the attraction. Mom says the sex must be great, cuz she doesn’t understand the attraction, either.” Darcy twirled a piece of her hair nervously on one finger. “Mom thought she had the worst taste in men in the family, but Beth’s making her wonder.” She shook her head. “Sorry. Nothing to you. You don’t know them. Crazy family of a sorta friend.”

“I know you… some. I care more than you think.” Now Steve’s cheeks reddened. He hadn’t meant to say that aloud.

Darcy gestured as though to bump shoulders with him. “Nice.” She arranged the robe over her legs, both from cold and modesty.

Hesitant, Steve ventured, “you never mention your father.”

Darcy’s gaze turned his way. “Nope. Long gone.” Her expression hardened. “Thank goodness.”

After an awkward silence fell between them, Steve went to the stove and spooned soup into two bowls. He returned to his place by the fire. He handed Darcy her soup, noting her mild surprise at being served. They ate without speaking. When they were done, they both took their bowls and rinsed them in the sink.

Darcy walked over to the bed and started moving pillows. “Do you want a dividing line?” She didn’t try to meet his gaze.

“Not necessary. Let’s put the pillows by the windows. They’ll block some of the cold that’s coming in and making it hard for this place to warm up.” Steve pressed pillows along the bottom edge of one window. He glanced back as Darcy slid beneath the covers, still wearing the black robe. The warm light brought out red and light brown highlights in her long hair. She looked even prettier than usual in the golden glow. And he thought she was always beautiful.

Darcy shivered hard. “Sheets are freezing!”

Swallowing hard, Steve sat on the far side of the bed from her. “Want the decorative lights off?”

“N…n..not unless you do. They’re p..pretty. Make me think warmer thoughts.” Her shivers shook the bed.

Steve shifted so that he could lift the covers and lay underneath them. They were icy cold against his pants. He imagined the chill was worse against Darcy’s bare legs. He lay back and closed his eyes, feeling the motion of the bed from Darcy’s shaking. The winds began to wail again, harder than before. He opened his eyes and turned to look out at the raging blizzard. “Wanna lay back-to-back? I run warm.” As she shifted so that she faced away from him, he rolled to his side and moved back against her. He cursed himself as a masochist.

“Ohhh. Fuck, yes!” Darcy swore under her breath and whispered, “sorry. So sorry!”

“I know what you mean and you don’t have to avoid cursing around me. We’re not on a mission communicator in an official capacity. That ‘language’ thing they joke me about is nonsense. I don’t give a damn about how people want to talk in regular life.” Steve closed his eyes again, trying to keep his tone even as Darcy wriggled against his back. He heard her mutter thanks a few times. Making her feel good pleased him.

Five minutes later, Darcy rolled over and pressed her cold nose against his shoulder. She spent several minutes trying to figure out where to put her hands. She ended up crossing her arms over her chest and tucking her hands under her chin. Within minutes, she was asleep.

Listening to the sound of Darcy’s breathing as it evened out and deepened lulled Steve to sleep soon after. His face settled into a small smile.

---

Steve supposed it was a slight change in the blizzard-muted light of day that woke him next. Languorous, sensual dreams dissipated through his hazy thoughts. Dream images of Darcy, kiss-swollen lips and bared creamy skin, heated his blood.

Then, awareness hit him hard. He and Darcy clenched in a lover’s embrace. Their legs entwined and her head was on his chest. Her sweet, feminine scent filled his senses. Her amazing breasts pressed against one side of his chest. One of her hands was against his arm and the other warmed the skin of his stomach, inside his shirt. It all felt so good and right that it stole his breath. His body’s natural response to his dreams, to her, and to waking was extreme. He was afraid to move lest any friction push him past sanity. A small, low moan sounded in her throat as she shifted against him. He tensed.

Her voice was raspy with sleep. “I know it’s awkward, but I’m way too comfy to regret it. You feel good, Steve.”

“Right back atcha’, Doll,” he whispered. Wishing himself back in his dreams, he kissed her forehead and squeezed her even closer. He wanted her so much he could hardly stand it.

Darcy made another small sound in her throat as she wriggled against him. The realization that he was aroused sparked her passions, but she didn’t dare to presume too much. Maybe it was only an impressive sign of morning. She followed his example and placed a chaste kiss below his jaw. She felt his heart pounding more quickly and closed her eyes again. She flexed her fingers against his ridiculously-cut abdomen and felt him jolt. She debated if any of his reactions had anything to do with her in particular. She wished they did.

Both of them were awake, but neither admitted it. Each of them savored the embrace and the feel of the other’s body. They each fantasized about the other. They fantasized about passionate first moves, expressing affection and desire. Want. They became lost in imagining more and more. Time passed. Their emotions swirled like the blizzard winds that trapped them together.

They lay cuddled and simmering with unspoken desires until Steve’s phone rang. It broke the spell. He moved away from Darcy and answered the phone.

She watched the play of muscles under the back of his shirt and struggled to stifle her lust. Darcy closed her eyes. It was futile. Her lust for Steve had been growing for over a year. In this circumstance, lust was inevitable.

While Steve talked with Sam, assuring him that he was fine though the storm prevented him reaching the City, Darcy left the bed and went to the bathroom. She snagged her dry jeans on her way there. She took a shower and did what she could with toothpaste she found in the medicine cabinet and her finger. When she came back out, she hung the robe in the wardrobe and put on her Christmas cardigan. She looked through the wardrobe and giggled at the sheer red robe. Then, Darcy took a step back. She buttoned and straightened her sweater by her reflection in the wardrobe mirror.

Steve paused in his conversation, a gob-smacked look on his face, “what…?!”

“Oh! Yeah. I know. Gaudy, isn’t it? Well, last year Tony gifted the ‘ugliest sweater at his party’ winner $10,000. I know what he can be like, so I thought I’d stand a better chance of catching his wallet’s attention if I went a little on the sexy side. And I sewed in lights.” Darcy twirled and turned on the LED lights that adorned the sweater. Her dark green Christmas cardigan had bauble Avenger emblem buttons. A Captain America Shield button strained to hold the sweater together over Darcy's breasts. Silver and gold trim around the hem resembled tinsel. Red and gold lighted and embroidered ornaments dotted the sweater at random. It was a bit gaudy rather than ugly, but sexy most of all since the fabric hugged Darcy’s ample curves. She wore it over a tight red top and skinny black jeans. The ensemble played up her natural assets.

Steve could only nod in reply. He tried to turn his full attention back to his conversation, but didn’t do well.

By the time Steve was off the phone and had made the bed, Darcy found waffles in the freezer and syrup in the pantry. She had coffee brewing and was downing another bottle of water when Steve began stoking the fire embers and adding wood. They shared a quiet breakfast. Steve tried not to look at Darcy’s figure and failed again and again. He tried not to fantasize as Darcy licked syrup from her lips. He failed.

As they finished breakfast, Darcy looked around the cabin. “Aw, man. No TV?”

“Actually, there’s one over the bed.” Steve swallowed the last of his coffee.

“Over?” Darcy gave him a disbelieving look and went over to look up inside the bed canopy. “You’re not kidding.”

He chuckled and shook his head, “at first I thought it was a mirror.”

Darcy lay on the bed, on her back. She looked around for a remote control, finally finding one in the nearby window sill. “Icy remote.” She pointed it up and sighed, “but it works!” Channel flipping and streaming services browsing occupied her for some time.

She hoped rather than believed that Steve was looking at her with lusty interest.

Steve was. The intimacy of their situation and Darcy’s sensual appearance were a potent combination. He could hardly speak. He excused himself to go get a quick shower. He came back out a few minutes later, dressed again but still toweling his hair dry.

Darcy didn’t meet Steve’s eye as she offered, “you’re welcome to join me. Just friends watching television, ya know. I’m watching a silly Christmas movie. ’Scrooged.’ Okay?”

Steve shrugged as he made his way back to the bed. He shuffled, awkward, as he drew nearer.

Darcy shifted towards one edge of the bed, not meeting his gaze. “Plenty of room. Don’t mind me.”

He smiled as he sat on the other edge of the bed and forced himself to speak up. “Sam said that they’re busy helping first responders deal with stranded motorists. Hundreds of them all across the state. A lot of people didn’t have our luck and find shelter. I had to agree with him that it’s more important that they help them than us. I’m sorry you won’t have the chance to win the sweater contest.” He eased onto his back beside her, folding a pillow behind his head.

“Of course, they need to help people who’re stuck!” Darcy shuddered. “It’s super cold out there and the storm got out of hand so fast. I can only imagine. We’re fine here.” She grinned and turned to him. “You really think I’d win?”

Steve was struck by how pretty her green eyes were. He blushed. Her look turned quizzical. He nodded and spoke a thick reply, “yeah. Definitely.” Steve forced his gaze up to the television mounted above them. “I assume that ‘Scrooged’ refers to the Dickens novella?”

“Yup.” Darcy shifted further to the edge and lifted the covers so that she could get under the blankets. Once under there, she groused, “darned lights and ornaments are poking me.” She frowned, and unbuttoned the sweater again and lay it aside. Buttons and lights made a clicking sound on the floor by the bed.

After debating for what felt like an endless time, Steve got under the covers and shifted closer to her. “Can’t let you freeze.”

Darcy rolled up on her side and looked him in the eye. “It would be rude to let me freeze. I’m glad you’ve seen the light.” She winked at him, trying to seem playful. She thought that he was looking at her lips, but dismissed it as wishful thinking.

Steve assured her, “I’ll do my best to keep you from freezing. Wouldn’t want to be rude.” He put one arm around her, hand spanning the middle of her back. “I’m a polite guy.”

“You’re the nicest soldier I’ve ever met. Have I ever mentioned that?” Darcy ducked her head as a blush filled her cheeks. The way his hand covered her whole back made her feel tiny. Did things to her. Made her want his hands on her in other places. The fire she tried to play with was backfiring spectacularly, leaving Darcy breathless with desire.

“No. But I’m glad to hear it.” Steve gave her a squeeze.

There was a loud noise onscreen. Darcy rolled onto her back so that she could see the television again. She hoped Steve wouldn’t notice that her breath was racing.

After a few minutes, Steve nudged her. “Tell me about other soldiers you’ve met? There are good and bad apples in any group, you know.” He felt Darcy tense.

Though she didn’t look at Steve, Darcy decided to answer. She told him about Puente Antiguo and the SHIELD agents and soldiers who took Jane’s research- and their computers and even Darcy’s personal iPod. SHIELD ran a strange, temporary military base near the town and Erik worried about their absolute power. She told him about the shifts in those soldiers’ attitudes after Thor returned to Asgard. First, they were obsequious, but gradually more restrictive. They coveted Jane’s research and tried to control them all. After a long pause, Darcy shared, “some of them reminded me of my dad. He was military, Marine. Not a nice guy, especially to our mom.”

Steve rubbed Darcy’s arm as she talked. He felt that it was a privilege that Darcy was telling him something so personal. He didn’t want to break the spell, rather hoped that she might open up to him more.

Darcy blinked back tears. “He found fault with everything she did. She couldn’t do enough fast enough to avoid setting off his temper. Then he… well, you know.” Darcy ducked her head.

Realization dawned on Steve. “So, he never served her a dish or coffee even if he was getting something? He never held doors for her or pulled out a chair? You never saw him treat her with respect?”

Steve stilled as Darcy sat up on one elbow and stared at him, eyes wide. “Respect? No. No respect.” She grabbed the remote again. “Let’s look for something else. I saw…” Darcy glanced at Steve. “’White Christmas’ is about to start on this channel. I remember liking the dancing and pretty outfits and thinking it’s sweet. The story starts in your time, though. Do you mind? Will that make you too sad?”

Steve shook his head. “I’ve heard good things about it. I’ll be okay.” He wanted to say that he was more than okay with Darcy next to him, but was too tongue tied.

As the classic channel announcer talked, Darcy shifted closer to Steve again. “I want you to be okay. The 21st century’s not all bad, ya know.”

Again, Steve kissed Darcy’s forehead. “Yeah. Thanks, Doll.” He stroked her hair as they began watching the movie. “This okay?”

Darcy nodded, wondering if he was only being nice because he felt sorry for her or if there was another reason. “Yes. Very okay. Feels nice.” As his fingers trailed down her back, she shivered with pleasure. She wondered if he had any idea what his touch did to her. She savored the feelings, the want and heat, for a long time. Other thoughts ran through the back of her mind while she tried to ignore them.

Most of the way through the movie, the 'pretend-engagement' conspirators confessed to Bing Crosby’s character. Steve commented, approving, “at least they fessed up and set him straight. Too many times in romantic comedies the people avoid saying what’s on their mind until it’s too late. It's silly.” He stilled as Darcy pushed back from him and stared at him again. “What? You okay?”

Darcy nodded. “I… yeah. Sorry.” She sat up on the edge of the bed, paused the movie, and grasped her phone. After a moment, she nodded. “I’m gonna do this. I’m gonna make this call before I chicken out. Wish me luck.” She grabbed the green sweater from the floor and slipped it on over her red top again.

“Luck.” Steve got up and walked around the bed so he could sit next to Darcy. She looked up at him with a grateful warmth that transfixed him. He nudged her shoulder to offer comfort as someone answered her call.

“Beth? Hi. It’s Darcy. Merry something or other.” Darcy’s knee bounced, betraying her restlessness. Steve could feel tension fill her frame. After a moment, she continued, “yeah. Fine. I found a place to stay. I’m with a friend. And, Beth?” She took a deep breath, “He treats me with respect. Caring and respect. Even if he were…” Darcy paused. She rushed the next words out all at once, “well, if he was my Dom? He wouldn’t embarrass me or push away you or Mom by making me say ‘Meow’ and only ‘Meow’ to you at his whim. He wouldn’t think that's funny. He wouldn’t call me a ‘dimwit’ or a ‘bimbo’. He… Beth? I’m sorry to criticize your choices. But you deserve better than that kind of stuff. I hate the way Chad treats you, the way he talks down to you and tries to change you. You don’t need changing. I don’t know if it’s just me that Chad can’t stand. But, if it’s not? If he treats you like that in front of other people? I mean, would he demean you in front of your kids like Dad did Mom? Would he hurt you? How much like Dad…? Scratch that. Sorry. He’s not Dad. I’m not trying to be an unfair bitch to Chad, whatever he says. I worry that…” Darcy gasped, “don’t cry! I’m sorry! No! You… what? He what? He didn’t… What?!?” She shook, both in her body and voice. There was a long silence on Darcy’s end as her sister talked and cried. Darcy only interrupted the flow of words to utter sounds of disgust and disbelief.

Steve went to the kitchenette and got more water. He opened a bottle of wine and made thawed meat into fried burgers and baked French fries in the oven. He took Darcy water and returned to work on their lunch. The smell of good food soon filled the tiny cabin. He stayed busy, but most of his attention was on Darcy and her conversation.

Finally, Darcy rasped, “Well, that’s… What?! You’re thanking me? No. What? I thought you’d tell me to go to Hell, not take my call as a divine sign that you should say no and leave him. Oh, thank Baby Jesus!” Darcy laughed through tears. “Yes! I know I’m a bitch and I’m causing you to throw yourself on Mom’s mercy at Christmas. Enjoy her cookies for me. If it makes you feel better, I don’t have baking ingredients. Oh, fine! Hm? My friend? Awesome like you wouldn’t believe. Uh, I don’t know. It’s… pffft. I need to talk straight to him, too. Wish me luck?” Darcy wiped tears from her eyes. “Yes! I love you, too. Now, go. Text me when you’re safe at Mom’s and tell her I’m safe and I’ll call later. Merry Christmas.” Darcy hung up from the call and stared at the phone, rocking in place until she received a text. Then, she collapsed backwards onto the bed and stared up, unseeing.

Steve stayed quiet, letting Darcy calm from her talk with her sister. When the food was ready, Steve returned to her side and offered her a hand up, leading her towards the fire.

Darcy stumbled to a chair. “Thanks. You’re the best.” She drank more water.

“So, did he propose?” Steve began eating again and gave Darcy time to answer.

Darcy ate a bite of hamburger with a few fries and shook her head, “nope. TOLD her she was gonna marry him. Told her!” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Jackass! Good riddance.”

Wry, Steve shook his head. “Not very romantic. Not that I’m an expert in that department, but…”

Darcy only nodded as she devoured the rest of her food and sipped wine. “I had no idea how hungry I was.” She looked at Steve, thinking how lucky she was to be trapped with a good person who exuded calm and kindness. She especially appreciated that after the intensity of her conversation with her sister. Darcy sipped the wine as she focused on Steve. Being with him settled her, made her feel safe. And looking at him was always a delight. Steve Rogers was handsome, to be sure. He’d rolled up the sleeves on his green and blue flannel shirt. Unfair of him to subject her to sexy forearms on top of all the rest. Like every shirt she’d ever seen him wear, this one struggled to cover his muscles. She’d given up trying to think of adjectives that could convey how attractive Steve was. And nice. He didn’t call her out for staring at him like a weirdo, mooning after him. He didn’t even press her to speak up now, when she was sure he must be curious about the ‘straight talk’ she’d mentioned. He gave her the space she needed to regain her equilibrium.

Respect. Steve treated her with respect. She had a wonderful friend who treated her with respect. She ought to be forever grateful rather than daring to wish for more.

Steve finished his glass of wine and poured himself another.

Darcy held her glass out for him to top off, then sipped it again. “This is good stuff. I never spend more than $10 on a bottle. I’d bet the cork on this stuff costs that much,” she giggled, “or even the label.”

“I’ll give Tony money to cover it when we get back to the Tower.” Steve shrugged.

Darcy glanced outside. Snow and sleet fell still. “That’ll be a bit yet.”

Steve nodded, not sure what to say. He felt happy trapped with Darcy, to have a chance to talk with her and hold her close. Even if she only saw him as a friend who kept her from getting too cold. Silence fell between them again.

“Wanna finish the movie? Sorry I shut it off without asking.” Darcy needed more time to gather courage.

Steve nodded, “no problem. Yeah. I’d like to see the ending.”

They took their dishes to the sink and then returned to the bed. There, Darcy took off her Christmas sweater. She threw back the covers and snuggled next to Steve under the blankets. He put his arms around her while she used the remote to restart the movie. Finally, the lovers in the movie sorted out their misunderstanding, kissed, and made plans for their future. Fierce longing overwhelmed both Steve and Darcy. Unconsciously, he stroked her back.

There was no one and nothing to distract them or come between them. Nothing except for their own emotional shields. But it was a day for dropping those.

Cheers and strains of the song ‘White Christmas’ sounded behind the words ‘The End’. Darcy ducked her head so that she didn’t have to look Steve in the eye. “I wish…”

Steve interrupted, “I wish that you didn’t dislike soldiers so much, Darcy. I’m a soldier and I can’t change that, never could.”

Darcy pushed back from him, “what? Change? You? No! I don’t… Oh! No. I only dislike the bad ones. I don’t like jack-booted thugs who steal Jane’s research and my personal stuff. I don't like Nazi wanna-be’s or, well, mean soldiers. I like… I like you, Steve.” She swallowed hard and jutted her chin out. “I wish that your work didn’t take pretty much all your time and that you didn’t miss your good old days so much. I wish…” She blinked back unshed tears. “I really wish you wanted to be here- in this time- with me, Steve. I’m sorry. I know you only want to be friends. And I won’t say anything more to make you uncomfortable, friend.” She smiled a small, watery smile. “Friend. I’ve done that for you all this time. I can keep doing it. I want any relationship we can have, even just friends.”

Confusion filled Steve’s expression. “Is that why you say ‘friend’ to me so much? Because you think that’s all I want?”

“Uh huh.” Darcy nodded miserably.

He inched closer. “And you like me even though I’m a soldier? And you want to be more than friends with me? Darce?” He whispered, “do you… want?”

Darcy looked up at him, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry to make things so awkward when you’re stuck here with me. Yes. I want! I wish that you wanted to be more than fr…Mmph!”

Steve kissed her.

He pulled back and stared at her as he cupped her cheek with one hand. “Sorry. I should ‘a- May I kiss you? I’m crazy about you, Darcy. I’ve wanted you for months and months. Want you so much I can hardly stand it. Not just friends, please. More, Doll.” His eyes gleamed with fervor.

Darcy nodded, stunned.

Steve chuckled, kissed her forehead and kissed her cheek again, with reverence. “Darcy, Doll… can I get a ‘yes’ to me kissing you?” He shifted so that his lips were a hair’s breadth away from her lips. Charged air shook the space yet between the two of them. He waited.

“Yes!” Darcy closed the distance between them and met his kiss with her own. They both trembled into it, a feather-light exploration. They each absorbed the idea that they’d misread what the other wanted. She murmured again, “oh, yes, Steve.”

He grinned as he kissed her again, deepening the kiss. He nibbled at her plush lower lip as he’d fantasized and dreamed so many times. Reality was a million times better. Darcy shuddered against him and groaned with pleasure. Steve stilled and closed his eyes. “Oh, Doll.” Darcy teased at his lower lip and he groaned, “gonna be hard as hell to be a gentleman with you doin’ that.”

Darcy chuckled, “who says you have to be a gentleman?” She shifted her leg to brush against his hardness. “Mmm. You were saying?” She nibbled at his lip again and played with the top button of his shirt.

Steve jolted and cursed under his breath. He kissed her quiet, again deepening the kiss and learning how they fit together. Steve savored Darcy's lips and tongue and throat while also exploring what she liked best. Sensitive spots. Sweetness. Eagerness. It was pure bliss. Darcy was becoming short of breath. Steve lay back and looked up at the next movie that had started while his Christmas dreams began to come true.

Darcy glanced at the Santa onscreen and panted. “I no longer have anything to ask Santa for.” She undid Steve’s top shirt button and kissed at the base of Steve’s throat. “I can think of a few things I’d like to ask you for, though.”

Steve grinned down at her, “same, Doll.”

“Oh?” Darcy undid another button on his shirt and kissed the exposed skin. She looked up at him and held his gaze as she undid the next few buttons.

Steve pulled her up for a long, slow kiss that set Darcy’s every nerve ending afire. She undid another few buttons on his shirt. When he shrugged it off, Darcy stilled, staring at his naked chest. “Holy…”

“Night?” he suggested. She snorted a giggle. He shifted her so that she sat astride him. He asked with his eyes if he could lift her shirt.

She nodded. “I may freeze, but yes. Please do.” She lifted her arms.

He shook his head. “Not gonna freeze. Haven’t you heard? I’m the man with a plan.” His voice tightened as he pulled her shirt up over her head. He shifted another pillow behind him and sat up some, pulling her towards him. He kissed her breasts as he reached around and undid her lacy red bra. “Damn, Doll. You’re a fantasy come true.” As he began to tease at her breasts with his lips and tongue, Darcy shivered and moved on him. He groaned, “here.” He pulled his shirt out from beneath him and helped her put it on, open at the front but warming her arms and back. "Looks much better on you than Tony's robe."

“Ahhh.” Darcy tried to talk, but Steve returned to tormenting her with his insistent lips. “G...good plan. Ohhh.” She squirmed in his lap, grinding against his erection with abandon. He let out a lusty groan that made her proud.

Steve pulled her chest against him for warmth as he moved up to kiss her lips and face again. “You’re shaking.” He looked concerned, but couldn’t resist kissing Darcy again. And again. He plucked and teased at her with his dexterous fingers. He loved the frantic sounds she made in the back of her throat.

“Not cold.” Darcy pulled back, then kissed him again and again. “Just want. Want you. Want so much.”

Steve shifted, rolling Darcy down onto her back. “Good thing, Doll.” He kissed her. Long, slow, passionate kisses that she met with a fervor that lit him up more every second. He palmed her breast and continued his exquisite torment. Darcy arched up against him, writhing. He lowered his lips to her breasts again. First one, then the other. Kissing and nibbling and sucking. She cried out and bucked as he swirled his tongue, hard. Darcy wasn’t sure if she would be embarrassed to come just from his attention to her breasts or impressed. Possibly both. Likely both.

He resumed teasing her nipples with his fingers. He placed open-mouthed kisses all along her belly. Steve took his time. “Beautiful.”

Darcy whimpered and began to shove her pants down. Steve stilled her hands. “I got you.” He undid the snap on her black jeans and kissed the exposed skin. Then he lowered her zipper and kissed her more. Darcy held the covers up with one hand and ran the other covetously along Steve’s shoulder. Steve pulled her pants and panties off and then moved back up her body to kiss her cheek and lips again.

“Pants!” Darcy begged him between kisses.

Steve huffed a laugh and unbuttoned his jeans. Darcy pressed against him, skin to skin. She wore only his shirt and warm red socks. Finally, he pushed down his pants so that he wore nothing.

Darcy’s eyes went even wider. “Oh, my. You go commando?”

He shrugged. “Habit. The uniform requires special briefs.”

She reached for him eagerly and wrapped her fingers around his shaft.

“Fuck,” Steve hissed.

Darcy's grin had a wicked glint. “Something like that.” She kissed down his chest and abdomen until she finally took him in her mouth. Then, Darcy delighted in taking Steve completely apart.

When he’d caught his breath again, Steve gave Darcy a smile unlike anything she’d ever seen from him before. It was both delighted and full of mischief that caused her pulse to race. He again pulled her astride his legs so he could taste and tease at her breasts. He left lingering kisses along the column of her throat and over her wrists. He disappeared under the covers and kissed her thighs and the backs of her knees. Darcy squirmed and unseeingly stared up at the movie. Steve didn’t tire, didn’t cramp- only focused on Darcy's pleasure with single-minded, super-strong drive. He had her writhing with pleasure long before he let her come. Another Christmas movie was playing onscreen and halfway over before Steve came up for air.

Finally, when Darcy begged, Steve slowly slid home. She realized that he’d been prepping her so long because of his size. She felt stretched wide as he twisted to hit her G-spot just right. She came quickly and felt as though she continued coming again and again as Steve pounded into her. He twisted her around so that he could plunge in from behind while rolling her swollen clit between his calloused fingers. After he came, he laid his fingers flat, soothing. He cradled her body tight back against his. Aftershocks left her spasming with pleasure. Steve kissed Darcy’s head again and again, murmuring, “sweet Darcy. Crazy about you.” She dozed in his arms, warm and loved and completely satisfied.

Dinner that night was steak and vegetables from the freezer, paired with an exquisite red wine. As they lay in bed afterwards, cuddling and teasing each other, Darcy felt Steve’s arms tighten around her. He buttoned a few buttons on his shirt to cover her and murmured, “company.” Soon, Darcy heard the sound of Iron Man landing outside the front door of the cabin.

Tony threw the door open and sauntered in, “I’m here to rescue you.” He stared, looked around and saw the open wine bottle and two pairs of pants on the floor by the bed, and shook his head. “Or, not. I guess Pep can stop crying about you being lonely on Christmas again this year, Cap. And I can stop wondering why you’re not answering texts. Nice shirt, Lewis.” Tony was blinking hard, slack-jawed with surprise.

Darcy laughed, “you should see the sweater I was gonna wear to your party. It’s around here someplace.”

“Lights up, sparkles, and hugs her curves to perfection. I’m sure she would ‘a won your contest,” Steve grinned, enjoying Tony’s shocked expression.

Tony smiled, “I bet. Well, Mazel Tov! Thanks for popping Cap’s cherry, Lewis. ‘bout time.” He pretended to wipe away a tear of pride.

Darcy snorted, “no way was that his first time. Orgasm hall of fame. All my Christmas dreams have come true.”

Steve ducked his head against her hair. “Good to hear, Doll. Right back atcha’.”

Tony shook his head. “Good reviews all around then. Well, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays kids. I’d guess you’re all set here ‘til it’s safe to drive again?”

Steve looked down at Darcy and she looked up at him. They both nodded emphatically and turned to Tony, “we’re good.” Tony laughed.

“Merry Christmas, Tony,” Steve beamed. “We’ll see you in a day or two.” He repressed a shiver as Darcy began teasing him under the covers again.

Darcy called out, “Merry Christmas! Thanks for dropping in.”

Tony shook his head and waved back at them as he went out the door of the cabin.

Steve pinned Darcy on her back and began ravishing her again, mock joking, “naughty girl!” He pushed into her again and set a slow pace as he rained kisses over her breasts.

Darcy looked up at him and batted her eyelashes. “Your naughty girl.”

Steve kissed her hard. “And my nice girl. Merry Christmas, Darcy.”

Gasping with pleasure, Darcy answered him, “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

Fin

#glynnisi #shieldshock holiday fic exchange 2020 #avarosier #mcgregorswench #shieldshockficchallenges #shieldshockfanfic #darcy lewis x steve rogers #avengers au #thor #captain america #darcy lewis is a queen and don't you forget it #christmas shieldshock #starcy #ava-rosier

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jaywritessmut · 4 years

Text

Weiß Chapter I- Business & Pleasure

*Weiß- White in German

Florian Munteanu x black female reader (All my fics are with black women in mind!)

Warnings: mentions of death & drug use, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks!)

Authors note: Sorry this took so long yall! I moved to a completely new state and that came with its own challenges and adjustments. Things have calmed down since but I’m about to start job hunting and house hunting which is exciting but also stressful AF! Pray for me! I apologize for any mistakes!

Word Count: 4.3K

Something about the smell of a hookah lounge drove her wild. The subtle sweetness in the air had always brought her peace, sometimes a bit of arousal. She found it much more tolerable than plain old cigarettes. But then again, cigarettes didn’t come in flavors like Blue Mist or Double Apple. She scanned the drink menu, impressed with the newer selections listed. Of course there were the outrageous names to contend with. Oil Spill? Typical Klaus she pondered. He’d always had an eye for the dramatic and it was one of the things she loved about him. How sad it was that she’d never hear one of his energetic, albeit coke fueled, rants again. She decided to pay homage to her eccentric companion and order one for old times sake. Her usual order of Jäger would have to wait.

The server took her order, fumbling over his pen as he scribbled it down. He was intimidated by her. She radiated authority and confidence. He had no idea who she was but the level of service she was receiving let him know that she was definitely a VIP. Making a mistake could cost him his job.

He must be new. She smirked at the thought. How cute.

Most everyone here knew who she was. Her table had been closed off and ready for her with her usual selection. Sex on the beach with a deeper freezer hose. They even made sure to put it in a mango just how she liked it. As soon as she stepped her Manholo clad foot out of her pearl white BMW, she’d been escorted into the club. Tamir gave her a salacious grin while he watched her strut into the building. Yeah, he was still hoping for a piece of that. The line of impatient party goers stared on in envy as she was given preferential treatment. But she was the boss. And bosses waited for no one.

She thought about letting loose tonight. Lord knows she needed it. But tonight was all about business. She needed to think. And surprisingly she was able to do just that as the bass from the clubs stereos shook the room. They had a deal, she and Klaus. She provided the money and kept an eye on the financial and legal side of things while Klaus was the face. He managed the club events, payroll, employees, social media presence, you name it. He was good at being the center of attention while she worked behind the scenes. But he also handled the grittier parts of it all. He dealt with the foot soldiers, making sure they were moving product. And then with suppliers to make sure they weren’t getting screwed them over. Turf wars and partnerships were all handled by him. It was a messy arena that Klaus shielded her form. And it made sense.

She was a sheltered daughter of an American diplomat. Her experience growing up in Berlin was quite different from his. While he fought to escape the crime infested slum and shady gangs, she vacationed on glamorous yachts in Malta. As a kid, he’d learned about the proper price to charge for a kilo while she was taught French and art history. They came from two different worlds yet managed to build a successful enterprise together. And now with him gone, she had no idea what to do. Just why the fuck did he have to piss off the Russians?

From across the club, Florian studied her closely in amazement. Annalise Roper in the flesh. ‘Lise’ was what she went by with family and close friends. But to her secret associates, she was Snow, the cocaine queen of Deutschland. He was surprised to see her here tonight. He had had the pleasure of meeting her on only a few occasions but knew that it was rare for her to be at the club. And with the circumstances surrounding Klaus death, he would’ve thought she’d lay low and increase security. But her face was unknown in the underground circles. When rival gangs talked about taking out Snow they were expecting a blonde hair blue eyed type. Not the melanated beauty he was currently admiring. The whole thing was ingenious really.

He watched as she threw back a shot, the club lights reflecting off her deep mocha skin. Her all white ensemble gave her an ethereal appearance, as if she were floating above the crowd. The effect she had on him was evident from the noticeable bulge in his pants. Full luscious lips, sultry bedroom eyes, flawless skin. All of her features drove him wild. And that was just her face. The white midi dress she wore, clung to her curves sinfully almost like a second skin. He knew she worked out. A body like that had to be properly maintained and cared for. And he wanted to explore every inch of it.

Florian adjusted his pants before approaching her. She’d just finish placing another drink order, a Jäger with ginger beer. The already skittish server rushed from her table almost running straight into him. When he glared stoically at the poor kid, he took off faster than before, desperate to get away from the two of them. Her almond shaped eyes gazed at him curiously while she took a pull from the hose. She admired the way his clothes fit on his body. His tailored shirt accentuated his impressive biceps. and the first two buttons were undone, showcasing his signature gold chain. He had style, that was undeniable.

Florian fought the urge to look at her lips but they were too hard to resist. The image of them wrapped around the hose was enough to fuel his already wild imagination.

She let out the smoke she inhaled while maintaining eye contact

“Wusstest du nicht, dass es unhöflich ist zu starren?”

He couldn’t help the smirk that fell upon his lips. Sarcasm was her defense mechanism, but it only made him want her more.

“Ja. Ich bin nur überrascht dich hier zu sehen, Schnee”

Her eyes flashed in anger at his nickname for her. She hated the way it sounded in German. Schnee. It was nowhere near as sexy as Snow.

“Darf ich mich setzen?”

“Wirst du mich nerven?”

He took a seat next to her, ignoring her question. Asshole she thought to herself. But a very sexy asshole nonetheless. The jittery server returned with her drink and skittered off to help the next patron.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He leaned into her, pressing a muscular leg onto her. She’d always been in awe of his large frame, even daydreamed about being pinned underneath him while he did unspeakable things to her body. But she was his boss. And she didn’t fuck her employees.

“I don’t hate you. I’m irritated by you” she went to take a sip of her drink to take the edge off. Whichever bartender made it went heavy on the Jäger . She was grateful for it.

“Why? Because I turn you on?” She almost choked on her drink as he brought his mouth to her ear.

Composing herself, she turned to glare at him. But he remained unfazed by her anger.

“Who said you turn me on? And how do you even know what me being turned on looks like? You’ve never had me to know”

“We could change that tonight.”

She rolled her eyes in annoyance and turned away from him. He was a typical playboy, used to getting what he wanted with a few charming words. But she wasn’t falling for it.

"Don’t be like that. You know you want me”

“And what makes you say that?”

“Basic science. Your pupils dilate whenever I come around. And you think I don’t notice but you look me up and down while biting your lip. It’s really sexy by the way, makes me want to lean forward and nibble it myself”

She crossed her arms in indignation trying to prevent his words from having an affect on her. His eyes wandered low to admire the way her breasts were pushed together.

“You also clench your legs together when I speak to you. Just like you are right now. And if you let me, I can give you the friction you desperately need. All you have to do is say yes”

He softly strummed his finger against her thigh. The sensation made her dizzy and she struggled to compose herself. It had been a while. Her last relationship ended a year ago and the Tinder dates just weren’t cutting it anymore.

Florian leaned closer once more and brought his mouth to her ear.

“Want to bet on how many times I can make you come in one night?”

Her resolve weakened and she closed her eyes as she fought for control of her libido. This was not what she had in mind when she made her way to the club.

Fighting past her bodies screams for release, she sat up straight and scooted away from him.

“Flo, I’m here to think. I can’t be distracted. Not now”

He picked up on the solemn tone of her voice. Maybe he was coming in a little too strong. Her friend was just killed and now she was left with an illegal business that she felt ill equipped to run alone. His attempt at seducing her didn’t really help.

“He cared a lot about you, you know? And he respected the hell out of you”

She nodded as she took another pull from the hose, trying to fight back the tears that would undoubtedly come. Klaus truly was her friend. And because of some stupid deal that she didn’t even want him to take, he was dead. She’d never hear his infectious laugh or be on the receiving end of one of his bear hugs again. A chill ran through her as she blew out a plume of smoke.

“Snow, did you hear me?”

“What?”

“I said, let me take you home. This is the last place you need to be”

“I can’t. I need to be here”

“No you don’t. Elias has the club under control. We’ll figure out the rest ourselves, okay?”

Maybe now wasn’t the right time. She’d always prided herself on being rational and calculated. It was hard to be that way when so many emotions swirled through her heart and mind. Fear being the biggest one. What if this was all going to collapse? What if she was next?

She nodded, focusing on fighting back the unshed tears that blurred her vision. This was not how the night was supposed to go. But it was for the best. The business could wait. Right now she needed a distraction. She handed Florian her keys and let him guide her out the club, ignoring the curious stares that followed. Fuck them she thought. It was none of their business who she took home.

They rode in her car in silence. She was careful who she let drive her baby but she trusted Florian for some strange reason. Occasionally his eyes would wander over to her seat so that he could admire her toned legs. He imagined them wrapped around his waist while he drove into her. Or maybe over his shoulders while he pounded into her. Snow smirked to herself as she caught him staring in the mirror.

“Drei” she blurted out. He turned to her as best he could, a curious look on his face.

“You wanted to bet how many times you can make me come tonight. Die antwort ist drei”

Surprise registered on his face as he took in what she was saying. She was giving him the green light, and he had no intention of passing up on the offer. Florian drove like a mad man, weaving through traffic with a fierce determination. The sounds of blaring car horns filled the air as he made his way to her apartment. When they finally pulled into the parking space outside, he turned the car off and turned to Snow. The tension in the air was thick and he fought to compose himself.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked

“Since when did you become such a gentleman?”

“I just don’t want you to regret this. If you say yes, I won’t hold back. If you say yes, then I’m going to make it my mission to explore every inch of your luscious body. Willst du das??”

With an unmistakable nod, she gave him the answer he wanted. She gazed into his hazel eyes, and found that his eyes were slowly flickering down to her plump lips. Florian leaned forward to kiss her, relishing in the feel of her soft lip against his. Her brought up a hand to tenderly stroke her cheek, causing her to gasp. He took the opportunity to slip in his tongue, gently coaxing her to deepen the kiss.

Something came over Snow as she unbuckled her seat belt and climbed over to straddle his lap. Without breaking the kiss, he leaned his seat back to give them more space. His hands lowered down to her ass which he held a tight grip on.

He broke the kiss, bringing his lips to the tender spot underneath her ear and began to place open mouth kisses there. The feeling made her head fuzzy with need and she felt her wetness drip from her center.

“Flo” she moaned, rocking her hips against his. She felt the substantial bulge in his jeans and it made her even more desperate for release. He chuckled against her skin before bringing his lips to hers and planting a hot open mouth kiss.

His hands moved strategically over her body, as if he was studying every spot that drew a response. He committed it to memory, trusting that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d get to taste her. He took both her hands in his and pinned them above her head and he continued to kiss her which she returned with fierce determination. The inside of his car began to fill with the sounds of her moans as he slid his hands up her right thigh.

His talented fingers began to glide between her legs. Much to his delight he discovered there were no panties to remove and his fingers found the source of the wetness sliding down her shapely mocha legs.

"Enjoying yourself are we?" he teased as he circled her clit. She moaned and shook, unable to formulate a response.

"Gut" he said as he slipped a finger inside and massaged her g-spot. She shuddered and felt himself hardened as her walls clenched his thick fingers.

He kissed her and continued to massage her inner walls while stroking her clit. The sensation of his mouth devouring her while stroking her most sensitive spot, caused heat to spread through her body. She knew her orgasm was close and she didn’t even care that they hadn’t even made it inside her apartment.

“Fuck, Flo, I’m-”

He pumped his fingers into her, stroking the soft spongy part of her with a wicked speed while coaxing her to her release. With added pressure on her clit, she detonated around him, her warm center tightening around him with a vice grip. He placed soft kisses on her neck, which she exposed to him as she threw her head back in ecstasy.

“That was one” she purred, coming down from her orgasm. She saw the flash of persistence in his eye and immediately knew she was in for a wild night. The gauntlet had been thrown down and he was more than ready to pick it up.

“Let’s get you in the house, jetzt” he growled before crushing his lips to hers.

They stumbled into the foyer of her apartment, a tangled mess of hands and lips. The ride up to her floor was nothing but him pushing her up against the elevator wall and teasing her already sensitive flesh. And right now, with them finally having privacy, she felt a mixture of excitement and fear.

“Where’s your bedroom?” he grunted, pulling his lips from hers.

“Upstairs, second room on the right”

With no effort, Florian picked her up and made his way up the steps. She began teasing him, suckling and nibbling on the soft flesh of his earlobe. His skin broke out in goosebumps making her smile with satisfaction. He made his way to her bedroom and crushed his lips onto hers, slamming the door behind him with his foot. They remained locked in a deep kiss, her legs wrapped around him, grinding on the front of his jeans. He tossed her onto the bed and she fell with a squeal of delight. After giggling and catching her breath she looked up at him.

He couldn't remember wanting anything so badly. He watched as she crawled on her hands and knees to the front of the bed and started to unbuckle his belt. Taking off his shirt, he measured the gorgeousness of her feminine curves as they lay before him. The gentle arch in her back, the slight hourglass form that widened into the luscious, full heart shape of her butt.

He needed to devour her; to put her in the ecstatic trance that drew him like a magnet to her in the first place. He needed to taste this irresistible creature.

She had succeeded in the arduous task of loosening his belt and had her little hand down the front of his boxers grasped gently around his thick member. He saw her eyes widen and her tongue trace across her lips in anticipation. He pushed his jeans to the ground so she could get an easier grip but when she went to take him in his mouth, he stopped her, took her hand off his member and kissed it.

"You first..."

Florian shoved Snow back onto the bed. She tumbled over with a giggle and a sigh as he crawled over the top of her. He teased her swollen clit with the tip of his shaft for a second and felt her shiver at the contact.

He began at her neck kissing slowly and biting gently, savoring her smell and every inch of her flavor. He made his way to her toned belly and grazed his lips over her navel, watching her toned tummy rise and fall as her breathing became more erratic. He positioned his shoulders under her thighs and gazed at her glistening pussy, laid open for him. Kissing the inside of her right thigh, then suckling the inside of her left, he reveled in her scent. It reminded him of citrus and honey.

With a long, flat tongue he tasted her.He groaned in appreciation at how sweet and juicy she tasted. Craving more, he wrapped his arms around her legs and pulled her closer to his face, burying his mouth in her delicious folds. He could feel her wetness soaking his lips but it only made him more excited. His tongue danced around the sensitive flesh as he responded to her gasps and moans.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop” she begged.

His dick throbbed painfully, wanting in on the action. But this was for her. And he loved making her moan. It was such deep satisfaction to feel the power he had over her. She followed his lead, grinding her hips against the entirety of his mouth, using the friction to get closer and closer to her destination.

He flicked his tongue across her clit in a fluid motion and inserted two eager fingers into her slick center. Her moan rose into a pleasure-filled shriek, he heard her breath come in quicker and knew she was close to her release.

“Fuck!” she cried out, her walls tensing around his fingers as she released once more in a succulent explosion that left his mouth soaking to the bottom of his nose and his hand wet all the way to his wrist. His beard glistened with her juices and it drove him wild to be covered in her scent.

“That was two” he grunted, a sense of pride filling him. He had always been a competitive man and this was one game he was sure to win. She lay sprawled, unable to open her eyes, but with a contented smile on her lips as the waves of her body's aftershock shook her, gently bouncing her breasts. He knew she was more than ready for him.

He quickly stripped her of the rest of her clothing, the white midi dress discarded somewhere on her bedroom floor. He was surprised to discover that in addition to no panties, she’d forgone a bra as well.

“No underwear huh? Well aren’t we nasty” he taunted, as he stroked his dick along her already sensitive clit.

“Shut up and fuck me Florian” she growled, growing impatient. Two orgasms weren’t enough, she wanted more. She needed him to fill her.

He slid his body atop hers, looking deeply into her soulful brown eyes as he sank into her. Her nails dug into his skin as he pulled out before thrusting forward and bottoming out inside her.

He began long, slow, deep strokes wanting her to feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock. Her eyes were closed and she was moaning with every down stroke, perfectly in tune with his pace.

“So fucking wet” he gasped as her felt her soft folds took him in deeper and deeper. He had decided in that moment that this was his favorite place to be. He could spend the rest of his life between her thighs and die a happy man.

Her cheeks flushed as the walls of her pussy tightened around him. She knew he was big from the feel of his bulge in the car but she still gasped in surprise when he filled her up. The way he moved within her drove her wild and she was desperate for more. She hooked her leg around his waist, aching for him to be as close to him as she possibly could.

“Please baby, harder” she urged, wanting to feel him fully unleash on her. Teasingly, he pulled all the way out until just the head was inside her and paused. She opened her eyes and looked at him pleadingly, biting her lower lip hard. He sank his cock back inside her and paused again, causing her to quiver.

“Fuck Flo, get to it!” she cried, causing something inside of him to snap. He picked up his pace, his hips thrusting in her with a feverish need. She was panting as he fucked her and leaned up to kiss him hungrily. His tongue entered her mouth even as his cock penetrated her, hitting that sweet spot. And with one sudden jerk of his hips, he felt her pussy grip him tightly before exploding all around him.

“Oh my fucking God!” she screamed as her entire body dissolved into the waves of pleasure flowing through her. Florian continued to move inside her, softly stroking her face and hair while whispering sweet words in her ear. She was completely shattered, but the hard cock pulsing inside of her told her that the night was far from over.

“And there’s three. Think you got one more for me baby?” he cooed. Her hooded gaze told him she was spent, but he was determined to win this bet. He knew he could push her past the brink of satisfaction one last time.

He pulled out of her and effortlessly flipped her over, leaving her chest pressed into the mattress. He then led her to the edge of the bed, pullingg her lower body up onto her knees. Standing behind her, Florian pushed her head down to the mattress and rubbed the head of my cock against her dripping wet slit.

With a quick thrust forward, he buried his cock inside her roughly, grabbing onto her hips for leverage.

“Fuck!” they both cried out simultaneously.

Snow arched her back, throwing her head back in ecstasy. He grabbed a handful of her hair and used it to pull her back against him as he slammed his cock into her hard and fast. She moaned wantonly, and he felt the familiar tremor of her walls.

“Are you going to come for me again baby?” he cooed into her ear.

She could barely respond but her body answered for him.

“Hold it liebling” he urged, as he pounded into her fiercely.

Her body shook with every thrust of his hips and she wondered just how she would fend off this impending orgasm. As if it wasn’t hard enough, he wrapped both hands around her neck and began fucking her harder.

Her body had no choice but to surrender to his brutal assault and she wailed into the mattress as she fought to stop herself from coming. His thick cock was buried deep inside of her, relentlessly filling her up and staking its claim over her. And just when she thought she couldn’t hold it any longer, he granted her release.

“Fuck, Snow, come! Come all over this dick!” he growled before emptying inside of her, coating her walls with thick ribbons of his cum. Her last orgasm ripped through her, leaving her a screaming mess underneath him. She had never been more thankful for her penthouse apartment that separated her from the rest of her neighbors.

Florian gently pulled out of her before laying next to her. They laid next to each other, both trying to calm their breathing and make sense of what had just transpired between them.

“So I guess I won the bet” he remarked smugly, while taking in her appearance. Her hair stuck to her forehead, dampened by the thin sheen of sweat that had broken out across her body.

“Shut up” she ragged, still struggling to catch her breath. He couldn’t help the chuckle that broke from his lips and pretty soon, they were both laughing hysterically, their arms and legs tangled together.

“What’s my prize. For exceeding your expectations?”

“The nut you got was enough of a prize” she retorted, her head now gently laid on his toned chest. She lazily drew circles around his pecs, relishing in the feel of his warm skin.

“Fair enough”

“But we do have a more serious issue on our hands now,” she continued. The problems she had at the club were still there and a few orgasms wouldn’t be enough to rid her of them. Florian looked down at her expectantly, waiting for her to explain what she meant.

“I need you to walk me through the business. I want to take over.”

Translations:

Wusstest du nicht, dass es unhöflich ist zu starren?- Didn’t you know that it’s rude to stare?

Ja. Ich bin nur überrascht, dich hier zu sehen, Schnee - Yeah, I’m just surprised to see you here Snow.

Darf ich mich setzen?”- May I sit?

“Wirst du mich nerven?- Are you going to annoy me?

Drei/Die antwort ist drei- Three/ The answer is three

Willst du das?- Do you want this?

Gu- Good

Jetzt-Now

Liebling- Darling

Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list for this story! I hope you like it because I’m so excited to continue writing this!

#florian munteanu #florian munteanu x reader #florian munteanu x black reader #florian munteanu smut

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pinkmangafish · 3 years

Text

Happily Ever After ....

Rating: G - but with natural death

Fandom: Psycho Pass - Shinkane Week 2021

Canon Characters: Akane Tsunemori, Shinya Kogami, Nobuchika Ginoza, Yayoi Kunizuka, Kei Mikhail Ignatov

Year: 2186

It was snowing lightly, the snowflakes carried away by the gentle breeze leaving only a scattering of white on the ground. The small group of people standing on top of the hill had their heads bowed, but not against the wind. They held each other as they wept. A tiny, frail-looking woman stepped forward out of the shelter of the others and stood at the edge where the hill dropped away. Snowflakes fell on her white hair and disappeared. She paid them no notice. Her attention was on the simple wooden box in her hands. Taking in a deep breath she lifted the lid and took out the bag of ashes. “It is time.” she said and raised the open bag so the wind could catch them. More weeping, but not from her. She stood motionless watching the breeze carry away the physical remains of Shinya Kogami. Then, when she was certain that he was gone, she returned the bag to the box and closed the lid.

She stayed where she was, looking down over the valley now covered in snow, lost in thought. Her eyes moved over the small town to the hills and mountains that surrounded it and the memories that lay within.

The people behind here began to drift away down the hill. It was no matter; she would see them later.

Slow, unsteady footsteps approached her. “Hello, Gino.”

“Akane.” He stopped beside her. “Do you mind if I ask why now? It has been over a year since he died.”

She turned and looked up at him. Old, white haired, wrinkled she might be, but her eyes were the same he had always known, large and honest. “Oh, I don’t know, … it just felt like it was time, Gino.” She took one more look out over the valley. “I’m getting cold and we, my old friend, are too old to be standing here. Let’s join the others.”***

*****

“Mother, we were getting worried about you!”

Akane smiled, “Now why would you do something as silly as that, Yua? Come on, we are hungry, what is there to eat?”

Yua stared at her mother, a smile slowing breaking over her face. She was tall and slender, but her eyes were unmistakably Akane Tsunemori’s. “Right, food it is. There is a pot ready for noodles if …”

“Do you need to ask?” laughed Akane.

The kitchen was noisy, warm and very crowded. A large battered wooden table was covered with plates of food and pots of tea. People were eating and talking, sitting wherever there was a space. Three teenaged boys were leaning against a wall covered in photos. The plates they held were stacked high and they were eating ferociously. A tall middle-aged man stood up when he saw her. “Sit here, Mother,” he said as he perched himself on the kitchen counter next to his three sons.

“Ah, thank you, Ashai. Can we make room for Gino, too?” Akane sighed a little as she sat down.

“Here Gino-san, sit here.” Sara, Ashai’s wife, got up and moved to sit next to her husband.

“Mother, are you really okay?” asked Yua quietly. She held a bowl of ramen out to Akane, but she did not let go of it as her eyes searched her mother’s face.

Akane sighed softly.

“What? What’s the matter, mother?”

“Nothing, Yua. Just at times like this you are exactly like your father.”

Yua’s expression relaxed and looked sad. “I know, I’m sorry.”

Akane laughed, “So like him.” She put her hand on her daughter’s arm. “It makes me happy, you know? But if you really want to make me happy, can I please have that bowl of soup you are holding?”

From across the table, Yayoi smiled. “Some things never change. Akane Tsunemori and her noodles.”

“You forgot the lemonade candies,” laughed Kei as he passed her a plate of sandwiches. “Do you remember? Her desk was always covered in their wrappers.”

“So I like a candy now and then, so what? Now let me eat.”

Akane settled into her chair and watched her family and friends as she ate. It had been a while since there had been a gathering like this. There weren’t so many of them now from the days when they had worked for the Sibyl System. Thinking back to the times when they had been colleagues, she knew that none of them could have imagined this reality, this present, this now. Life was so different and she was so very thankful for that. And if there were fewer of her old friends, their absence was softened by all their children and grandchildren. And great-grandchildren. Her granddaughter, Hana, had just given birth to her first child. Even Gino had grandchildren of his own. Who would have ever thought any of that would come to pass?

“Ginoza a family man? Not me.” A deep chuckle in her ears.

“Hush now,” whispered Akane.

“Sorry, Akane, what did you say?”

She looked up at her son-in-law. “Oh, nothing Reo, just muttering to myself.”

The doorbell rang and was followed by a noisy commotion in the hall. The kitchen door slammed opened as a young boy ran through and headed for Gino. “Granpa! I’m here! Mama dropped me off coz I wanted to come now! Granny and the others are coming later, though. Oh! Sandwiches! Can I have some?”

Gino sighed, “Alex, manners, please.” But he passed the boy his plate.

The door opened again to admit Ashai. “Okay, folks, grab your plates and glasses and let’s move next door. It’s a bit too crowded in here. I’ve lit the fire in the living room, so let’s all get a bit more comfortable.”

Her son held out his hand and Akane’s heart did a little pitter patter of grief. While her daughter had much of Shinya’s personality, it was Ashai who had his father’s unruly hair and watchful eyes. He looked so like Shinya at times that it hurt her to look.

“Akane …” a whisper.

Akane patted her son’s arm. “You all go ahead. I want to have a chat with Yayoi. We’ll be in in a bit.”

“Tea, Yayoi?” she asked looking into a teapot.

“Please.”

Akane poured two cups of tea and set them and herself down next to her old friend.

“How are you, Akane?” Yayoi asked.

Akane sighed and sipped her tea. She did not pretend to misunderstand. “It is hard. Every day is hard. But I try to focus on what I do have - Yua and Ashai and their families, and you, and Gino, and Kei. I promised Shinya to live a good life after he went.”

“Shion made me promise something like that too” Yayoi nodded in understanding. “For a while there were times when I could hardly breathe from missing her.” Yayoi rested her head against Akane’s. “… when I didn’t want to breathe.”

Akane sighed, “Yes, that is how it is. I’ve had days like that. But … I talk to Shinya. All the time, in fact. It helps.”

“But it isn’t enough ….?”

Akane stared at the cup in her hand. When she looked up, her eyes were full of tears. “No, it isn’t. How could it be? Shinya and Shion were our everything.”

“Ohhh, Akane Tsunemori …. hush now.”

“You were and always will be …”

Akane paused. Then, hugging Yayoi, she said, “Tell me how everyone is doing.” She listened as Yayoi talked about her and Shion’s children and grandchildren. Things were good. They were all happy, doing well, her grandson was graduating soon so she was planning a visit to Tokyo. Yayoi’s voice brightened at the telling and her grief, familiar from the years, dropped away. Shion had passed away more than ten years ago. A sudden death in her sleep, just like Shinya’s. It is so much harder to accept a sudden death, Akane thought, but I am also so grateful that he did not suffer.

“Not as much as I am, love ….” A low chuckle.

“Mother,” Yua poked her head round the door looking excited. “Takashi, Hana and the baby have arrived. Come and meet your great-grandchild.”

“What? They’re here? But I thought Hana was only getting out of hospital today?” exclaimed Akane.

Yua beamed smugly. “They’ve come straight from the hospital. Reo just went and got them. Takashi and Hana wanted it to be a surprise. Come on, you have to meet little Akahana. She is just the cutest thing ever! Oh! I can’t believe I am a grandmother!”

Standing in the doorway to the living room, Akane watched as her granddaughter and her husband proudly showed off their first child.

“Reminds me of when Yua was born. Remember, Shinya? Everyone came here to visit us …”

“I remember. I remember everything.”

Reo looked up and saw her standing there. “Akane, come and meet Akahana.”

“Alex, let GG Akane sit down, please.” Gino said pushing his grandson off the sofa.

She allowed them to sit her down next to the fire and eagerly held her hands out for little Akahana. Hana and Takashi sat on the floor beside her unable to take their eyes from their daughter. Staring into the sleeping baby’s face, Akane felt the years roll back to that time when she had first held Yua. Where had all those years gone? She stroked Akahana’s face marveling at the sight of her wrinkled hands against the baby’s perfect skin.

She looked up and her eyes wandered over the people and the room around her. Shinya had insisted they moved here as soon as they knew she was expecting Yua. In some ways, it was like they had lived two lives, this one and the one under the Sibyl System. Here they had made a home and a family. The house was simple, but it was home. The large windows gave them a view of the valley, well, it did when it was not snowing. The few flakes of earlier had become a steady snowfall and she could see nothing but the outline of the dojo and the trees next to the house. Shinya had insisted on building the dojo himself … and fixing up the house. Though the outcomes were not always successful.

“Hey! I thought I did a good job.”

“Well, the floorboards in the hall have always squeaked, and …”

“... I’m sorry about the floor.”

“Don’t be. It is part of what makes it home. Our home.”

She relinquished Akahana to her parents and sighed contentedly at her family.

“Are you okay?” asked Gino sitting down next to her. She could see Masaoka in the lines of his face and his eyes.

“Yes. I’m fine. More than fine. I’m happy.” She turned to look at him with that serious, candid look he knew so well. “Gino, dear friend, how did we get to be this lucky?”

He laughed, “You are asking me, Akane? If anyone is to take credit, then it is you.”

“For once I agree with Ginoza …”

The sound of a car pulling up to the house made him pause. “I think that is probably Yui and Chiyo. I’ll go let them in.” Gino pushed himself slowly and carefully to his feet.

Akane smiled at Gino’s back. Love had found him late. He had followed them here a few years after they had moved, as had Shion and Yayoi, and then Kei and Maiko, the quiet valley town becoming something of a refuge. No one was more surprised than Gino when he fell in love at fifty. Yui was sixteen years younger than him and infused his life with a youth and happiness he had never known. He adored her and their children, who were now grown adults with their own children. She and Shinya had delighted in watching this new Gino, but there was still enough of the old Gino in him to occasionally spat with Shinya.

The living room was the largest room in the house. It had to be. There were books everywhere. On the shelves. On the tables. In piles on the surprisingly large number of sofas, pushed together haphazardly, that Shinya had collected over the years. At first, Akane had tried to dissuade him from buying almost every sofa he saw, but, especially in those early years, there were few times she saw him spontaneously excited and so she had relented and accepted that there was to be a never-ending flow of sofas in and out of their home.

“Shall I remind you of all the other times you saw me spontaneously excited?”

“Quiet!”

Gino came back pushing his wife in her wheelchair. A pretty, dark-eyed girl followed them in and waved cheerfully to Akane, “Hello Great-gran, how are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you, Chiyo. You go on and talk to the boys.” Akane smiled at the girl. At eighteen she was so adult at times. And she was fierce. Oh, my, was she fierce. Akane wondered if this is how Gino would have been if his life had been different back then.

“Are you saying that Ginoza was fierce, Tsunemori?”

“I’m saying that he was damaged. We all were, Shinya.”

“Yes, Akane, we were, but not so much you, if I recall.”

Chiyo looked up from where the boys were sorting out who was playing what. “GG, can we use the dojo later today? I haven’t had a good practice session since the weekend.”

She loved martial arts and spent a lot of her free time in the dojo. In fact, all of the grandchildren did, even Kei and Maiko’s when they came to stay. And everyone called her Great-gran or GG. There was no standing on ceremony in the Kogami household.

Yui came over and kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry, Akane, I would have liked to have been there for the scattering of Shinya’s ashes, but well, you know, snow and all” she glanced down at her wheelchair. “Gino told me it was lovely and just right. I’m so glad the snow waited, but my, is it ever coming down now. I wasn’t sure if we were going to make it here or if we were going to have to call Reo for a tow up the hill. Hey, Sara, don’t let my grandkids get in the way.” This to Akane’s daughter-in-law as she came in bearing a tray of sodas for the younger ones.

Akane’s daughter-in-law laughed at them from across the room where she was trying to bring some order to the holo game. “You know, Yui, I think you are right. Okay, kids, come on. Yes, you too, Alex. Don’t you have some practicing to do? Grab a drink and get out there. The heating is on, so the dojo should be warm enough by now.”

Chiyo bounced to her feet with a whoop. Any of the boys who might have preferred to stay inside playing the holo game were far too much in awe of her to say so. With a couple of reluctant backward glances at the game console, they all filed out after her.

As the front door closed behind the children, the adults heaved a sigh of relief. “Right, I think it is time for some more tea, don’t you?” said Yua. “Sara, care to give me a hand?”

Akane watched her daughter and her daughter-in-law as they left the room. One so tall and slender, like her father, and the other shorter and plump. They were so different in many ways, but Yua had adopted Sara as the sister she had never had from the moment Ashai had introduced them, and if he and Reo were not quite brothers, they were good friends. She looked over at where they were chatting with Yayoi. She saw her friend’s face light up and wandered what they were talking about. But no matter, it was enough to see her expression.

It was still early, thought Akane. Though the snow made it feel like late afternoon, it could only be just after lunch. They had eaten as soon as they got in from scattering Kogami’s ashes to recover from the chill of the snow and that of their loss. Food is eaten after a funeral to bring the living together and to remind the grieving that they are not alone.

“Feeling a little philosophical?” ….

“Oh, Shinya, I do miss you.” Akane sighed softly.

“Shush, it won’t be long now, love.”

The tea and coffee arrived. Sara handed Akane a cup of coffee. She sat holding it close to her face, just breathing in the smell.

“Is it too hot for you?”

She smiled and patted the space next to her, “No dear, it is perfect. The smell just reminds me of him, you know?”

Sara sat down beside her, tears welling up. “I know. It is always the little things, isn’t it? Every time I see a pack of Spinels in a store, or smell coffee, or see a real book, I think of Shinya.”

“But the memories are good, aren’t they?” asked Akane stroking Sara’s hair.

“Yes, they are good. But I do miss him terribly. I mean, he wasn’t my father, but in all the important ways, he was. As you are my second mother. If something was worrying me, he had a way of, of … making me laugh at whatever it was. I don’t mean that he was being unkind, he … it was his way of saying I was worrying for nothing. And knowing what you went through, well, it probably was silly. Oh, Akane, I don’t know how you bare it. I really don’t,” she sniffed and groped around for a tissue.

“At times, honestly, I don’t. He broke my heart several times before we were able to be together and now, after sixty years, he has once again,” admitted Akane.

“….. I’m sorry.”

“You’ll make it up to me.”

“Oh, I will...,”

“But then there are times when I feel as if he was still here. And the rest of the time, I have all of you,” she looked round the room. Gino caught her eye and was about to say something to her when Alex, who had snuck into the room, threw himself on top of his grandfather with a huge howl of glee. “Aren’t you supposed to be practicing your muay thai?” Gino demanded. He managed to keep his expression stern for all of ten seconds. Then he put Alex into a lock, gave an Evil Laugh and began tickling his grandson. Alex’s shrieks filled the room until a patient Yui said, “Gino, please, some of us are trying to talk here.”

Not only had Gino fallen in love with Yui, but in doing so he had learned to laugh. And laugh he did. Often for no reason. He once Akane that there were times he could not help himself and had no desire to. He had lived half a life of loss and grief. Borne the humiliation of his father becoming a latent criminal when he was still only a child. Seen too many comrades die and struggled to make sense of working within a cruel and, often, arbitrarily fickle system. He had come to terms with himself after his father’s death, but he had never looked for happiness. Yui had swept all that away. It had been love at first sight for both of them and happy, content, easy-going Yui had filled his life with … life. The Ginoza household was never quiet. There were constant comings and goings. Children and then grandchildren running wild with the dogs and cats and all sorts. People had very quickly discovered that if there was an injured animal that needed caring for, then Gino was their man. Seeing him now, rolling around the sofa with his grandson, both laughing and gasping for breath, Akane thought there was nothing left of the old enforcer. And that was a very good thing.

The front door slammed as it was opened too quickly and the hall was filled with running footsteps. Haru burst through the living room door closely followed by Chiyo with tears running down her face.

“Wh ….?” gasped Gino.

“GG! GG!” Haru gasped. “Tell me it isn’t true!”

“It is! I tell you!” Chiyo was laughing so hard she was almost doubled over.

Akane eyed her eldest grandson warily, “What is or isn’t true, Haru?”

By this time, her other two grandsons, Kenzo and Ryu, had joined their brother.

“That you shot Gramps in the back!”

“What?! exclaimed a startled Takashi and a rather more amused Sara.

“Chiyo says that when GG met Gramps, she shot him in the back.” Haro said to the assembled adults.

“Yes, well, I only used the paralyzer on him.” Akane shot back.

Chiyo was literally dancing. “I told you she did! I told you she did! GG rocks!”

“But why did you shoot him, GG? I mean, you loved him, right?” asked Ryu, always the serious one.

“Well, it was my first day on the job. I had only just met him. I wasn’t in love with him yet,” protested Akane.

“You weren’t? You wound me, Tsunemori.”

“Wretch!”

“First day! She’d been on the job less than an hour,” Gino cut in.

“Please, tell us the story, GG, pleeeease,” begged Kenzo.

“Huh! This should be interesting …”

“Okay, but Gino and Yayoi were there too, so they’ll help as well,” Akane glanced at her two friends. She began to tell the story of when she had joined the MWPSB and how she had met Kogami and the rest of the team. If Gino was worried that she would paint him in a bad light, as certainly his behavior back then warranted, he did not show it, but, of course, she didn’t. Between the three of them, they explained how the dominators worked and what inspectors and enforcers did.

“So you had no control over what the dominator would do?” asked Chiyo appalled.

“Yes and no. The dominator would register the perp’s crime coefficient and the Sibyl System would decide whether to use the paralyzer mode or the lethal decomposer mode. However, it was up to you to pull the actual trigger. So in that respect, you did have some say,” explained Gino.

“Unless you were an enforcer,” interjected Yayoi. “In which case, you were under orders from the inspectors. Honestly, we didn’t really think about it.”

“It’s not like that now, is it, Cousin Takashi?” asked Ryu.

Takashi was a detective for the local police force. He laughed, “It most certainly isn’t. I was still a small child when the Sibyl System came to an end, thank god. Now we carry guns, and we’re trained how to make decisions.”

“Was Gramps mad at you for shooting him?” asked Chiyo?

“Not the first two times,” said Yayoi delighting in the shocked expressions on their faces.

“You shot Dad twice, mum? Wait, more than twice?” Ashai glanced at Yayoi who nodded and held up 3 fingers.

“Damn! GG, I knew you were badass, but three times?” blurted out Kenzo. Then, “Sorry, mum! I know, language.”

“Tell them. They need to know.”

“But they are still so young. Alex is only eight.”

“Kagari was five when he was put into an isolation center.”

“The second time she shot Shinya was to save his life,” said Gino stepping in. His expression had darkened with the memory. He glanced over at Alex, but he seemed to be engrossed in the holo game. “We were chasing a very dangerous man …”

“Makashima,” breathed Yayoi and Akane together, their eyes meeting.

“… he had caused many deaths. We had caught him once and he had managed to escape. Your grandfather was obs … was desperate to catch him, but he wasn’t thinking straight. Because of that, he had been taken off the case by the Chief.”

By now everyone had drawn closer to listen. Chiyo and the three boys were suddenly aware that this was a serious talk. They were being treated as adults and they became very still.

“I take it you all know what the Sibyl System was?” asked Akane.

“Wasn’t it a sort of A.I. collective using human brains as a hive-mind,” asked Kenzo.

“That is a pretty good description,” nodded Gino. “Well, the…, for want of a better expression, the human face of the Sibyl System was Chief Kasei. You need to understand that at the time we did not know she was a cyborg.”

“And we did not know about the hive-mind, either,” added Kei.

“True,” said Gino. “I tried to swap Kogami into a different unit knowing that he’d give them the slip and find Makashima. But the Chief caught us,” he nodded at Akane, “in the act. She ordered me to shoot Shinya. With his crime coefficient, the dominator should have just gone into paralyzer mode, but the Chief did something to mine and it set to lethal. But Tsunemori shot Kogami in the leg with her dominator first. Because the Sibyl System hadn’t tampered with hers, it was set to paralyzer. That was one of the worst moments of my life.” Gino looked drained and sat back. Chiyo moved to sit next to him and Yui reached out to hold his hand.

“Not to mention mine. You saved me …”

Reo leaned forward to address Chiyo and the boys, “You need to know this stuff. You won’t learn everything today. We’d be here for months, in fact. But it is important that you understand that many people were manipulated into doing things they would never have chosen to do.”

“So you really did save Gramps’ life? But what happened afterwards. Why didn’t the System try to kill him later?” asked Haru.

Akane shifted in her chair. She glanced at Gino and he nodded. “Well, we don’t know for certain, but it seems like that the brain that was in the Chief Kasei cyborg had made that decision by itself. Normally, the System took collective decisions, but when the Chief was disconnected from the hive-mind or Collective, it could make its own decisions. I can only guess that the Collective countermanded the order to kill Shinya once the Chief had reconnected to it. Anyway, he managed to escape as soon as he came to with the help of Masaoka and Shion.” She smiled gently at Yayoi.

“Masaoka? Wasn’t he your father, Granddad?” asked Chiyo.

Gino was quiet so Akane continued, “Yes, he was. He was one of our enforcers. Your grandfather and I were the inspectors and Tomomi Masaoka, Shinya, Yayoi and Shusei Kagari were our enforcers. Shion was the department’s analyst. I’m not going to tell you how we caught up to Makashima. It’s a long story, but it was thanks to Shinya. While trying to capture him, Gino’s father was killed and Gino was badly injured. That left the chase to Shinya and me as Yayoi was holding down a control center. Then I was hurt, not badly, but enough to stun me, so Shinya went after Makashima alone.”

Everyone was quiet. Then Hana asked, “And Gramps killed him?”

“Yes, Shinya killed Makashima. If he hadn’t, I believe Makashime would have killed him. Anyway, because he was already a latent criminal that would have put his crime coefficient over the top and he’d have been a target for ….” Akane trailed off. Even now the thought of how close Shinya had come to death left her shaken.

“You mean, the Sibyl System would have killed him for killing a mass murderer?” Kenzo’s eyes were wide.

“Yes, it would have. So he had to run. Fortunately, there was just enough confusion surrounding what had happened that he had time to make his escape. I didn’t even know he’d got away until he called me some weeks later. But I didn’t see him again for more than three years.” Akane trailed off as memories of that time flooded back.

Seeing Akane falter, Yayoi stepped in. “Yes, and when they did meet, she very nearly shot him again.” The mood in the room lightened and there were several giggles and snorts of laughter.

“But if Gramps had had to flee Japan, how … er .. how did he get back?” asked Ryu clearly trying to keep track of events.

Reo answered. “He didn’t. It was at this time that the Sibyl System started experimenting with expanding overseas. Remember, at that time many countries in the world were still in a state of collapse or political chaos. Especially those nearest to Japan. Europe and Africa had already begun to pull themselves out to the mess of the last hundred years, but Asia and the Americas were still behind. Though from what we have managed to discover, the Sibyl System had realized that soon … at least soon in the terms of history, the rest of Asia would stabilize. The security of the Sibyl System depended on the instability of the rest of the world. True, a stable Europe and Africa would not have had an immediate impact on it, but at some point it was inevitable that Asia would pull itself together, at which point, Japan would have felt threatened. Or at least the Sibyl System would have. So, it decided to try outsourcing itself to those regimes that were still unstable, but that with a little help could be stabilized in a form suiting the Sibyl System. In some ways, it is in what your grandparents did then that we can see the beginning of the end of the System.”

Akane gasped, “Reo! Don’t talk rubbish. And you are making Shinya and me out to be like heroes or something.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked our son-in-law.”

“Hush! You no more want to be thought a hero than I do.”

Reo smiled fondly at his mother-in-law. “Akane, I have studied the downfall of the Sibyl System my entire professional life. What you and Shinya did in SEAUn, and what you specifically did in the Shambala Float created a tiny fissure. I’m not saying that the two of you conspired to bring the System down at the point. I am saying that your actions there had consequences which led to some changes in the System. And those in turn made it possible for further changes. Systems don’t suddenly collapse out of nowhere. Even when it appears that way, there are always tiny changes first.”

“Like, like with the wall in 20th century Germany?” interloped Ryu desperately trying to make sense of the conversation.

Reo beamed at his nephew. “Exactly like that.”

“So how did Shinya get back to Japan?” asked Takashi.

“Things were changing, Japan was slowly opening up to the outside world again, and that meant we had all sorts of issues. The head of the Suppressing Action Department or SAD was on a mission in Sino-Tibet and ended up working with Shinya. Frederica had enough pull that she was able to employ him, but so long as he only worked international cases,” explained Gino.

“So, did you shoot Gramps again when you met up?” asked Haru.

Akane laughed, “Haru! Is that all you care about? No, I did not shoot him then. That was later.

“I’ve often wondered why you didn’t,” low chuckle.

“You hadn’t committed a crime.”

“Didn’t stop you before.”

“Oh!”

Gino continued, “By this time, I was also working for the SAD. How many of you have heard of Bifrost. Kenzo and Ryu shook their heads. Well, that is a long and complicated story, which I will tell you one day soon. But, in order to solve that case, Akane here, got herself arrested and put in prison. And that is about the time that Kei and his partner, Arata, came on the scene. The end of Bifrost meant that Shizuka Homura became Chief of the MWPSB and things really began to change after that.”

“GG you were in prison?” gasped Chiyo? “Was that part of your plan?”

Akane looked down at her hands. Had it been part of the plan? It was so long ago, and hindsight made it all seem so clear but, “No, it wasn’t exactly a plan. At that time, we were all just trying to do what we thought was possible, going from one stepping-stone to the next. It is not as if we had a specific end goal in sight.”

Kei looked at her thoughtfully, “Really, Akane? You may not have had a clear strategy, but Arata always said that you were pushing things in a definite direction.”

“I know that this is all very important and all that, but what I really want to know is when did you and Gramps actually get together?” Hana asked blushing mightly.

Akane laughed, “Well, I suppose you could say that it started when I got out of prison. He’d been sent to collect me as I was now an enforcer. I told him I was hungry and to take me somewhere to eat. He bought me noodles.”

“He was sent to collect you? Like hell he was! In the middle of a briefing he stood up and announced that he was going to get you and left. Frederica had to go and clear it with Mika, who, I might add, was not happy about it.” Gino roared with laughed at the memory. “I can’t believe you didn’t know that.”

“Ohhh, Shinya …”

“Talking of noodles,” said Sara eyeing her three sons, “Is anyone hungry? I don’t want to break up the story, but I can go make something, if anyone wants.”

To a chorus of “Me! Sandwiches! Noodles!” there was a sudden exodus in the direction of the kitchen.

“Teenagers! Always hungry.” smiled Ashai taking the now empty seat next to Akane. “I swear, Mother, those three boys eat enough for an entire week in an afternoon.”

“You were exactly the same,” Akane laughed. “It was like having bottomless pit with legs and a mouth.”

Yua came over and sat on the arm of the sofa. “Mother, do you remember the time Dad gave Ashai a whole roast chicken to see if he could eat in one go?”

“And I did!” boasted Ashai. “And you were mad at Dad so he went and bought another one.”

“I was not angry with him!” protested Akane weakly.

“Liar!”

“Ha!”

“You were, too. You called him Shinya Kogami and you only did that when you were mad at him, but when you called him Kogami, that was different altogether.” laughed Ashai, winking at this sister. “Right, Yua?”

“And, he would call you Inspector when he was mad at you, but Tsunemori when he was teasing you. You probably didn’t think we realized but we did.”

“But he would always relent and then he’d just say, ‘Yes, ma’am’. It took me years to work out what he meant by that. In fact, it was only when I was reading one of those old children’s books to Hana that I got it.” Yua turned to her daughter. “You know the one, there was princess and a pirate and instead of saying ‘I love you’, he would say ‘As you wish’!” I suddenly realized that was what Dad had been saying to you all those years. Oh, Mother, please don’t cry. I thought it would make you happy to hear that.”

Yua and Ashai sat down on either side of their mother and hugged her. “It’s okay, Yua, Ashai. I had no idea we had a secret code, or that you’d cracked it. We were so very happy, you know. And he loved you two so much.” Akane rested her head on her daughter’s shoulder and let her tears fall. Tears on a day like this were no bad thing.

Kenzo came back into the living room. “Food’s ready. Come and get it while it is hot.” And he disappeared back in the direction of the kitchen. Gino shook Alex awake and gradually the room emptied. Yua stayed with her arms around her mother. “Come on, it will do you good to have something hot.”

“In a little while, love. I would like to sit here by myself for a few minutes. That talk brought back so many memories and I want to take a little time to savor them.” Akane leant back in her chair, wiped her eyes and smiled at Yua as she stood up.

“Okay, Mother,” Yua kissed her cheek. “See you in a few minutes.”

Akane took a deep breath and savored the sudden quiet around her. She could hear her family talking and laughing in the kitchen, but the living room was silent. The snow was muffling any sound of the wind and only the crackling of the fire kept her company. As much as she missed Shinya, ached for him, the large extended muddle of families that came and went through this house every day brought her so much happiness. Happiness that sixty years ago she and Shinya had never dared hope that they would have even for a day. Happiness for the future that their children, grandchildren and now great-grandchildren would live free from the oppression of an uncaring and despotic system. The fire was warm and room so peaceful. Surely she could just have a few minutes more.

***

“Akane! Akane! Wake up! It’s time.”

She woke slowly, struggling to shake off the pull of the dream she had been having. “Oh, Shinya, just a few more minutes, please,” she groaned.

“Akane! Wake up! Now, Tsunemori!”

At that she did wake up. There he was, smiling down at her, leaning against the wall by the fire as if they had all the time in the world. And didn’t they? He was wearing his old gray jacket and, oh, her heart fluttered, he looked good.

“Shinya,” she breathed.

“Akane. … I’m here to get you.” He paused and looked at his feet. “Sorry.”

“Still apologizing after all this time, love?”

He shrugged.

Akane Tsunemori stood up. She glanced back at her body resting so peacefully in the chair. Then she tilted her head back so she could look up at her husband. The smile in his eyes made her heart dance just as it had 60 years ago. She returned his smile.

“Kogami, take me home.”

He took her hand gently, “Yes, ma’am.”

#akane tsunemori #shinya kougami #psycho pass #shinkaneweek

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jovialyouthmusic · 3 years

Text

Lythikan Liaison 2

After the death of Jackson Walker, Bastien Lykel finds himself with time to kill in the duchy of Lythikos. He strikes up an acquaintance with a female member of the Lythikan Guard.

Word Count 3714

Pairing Bastien x OC x ???

A/N NS*W no under 18s please Scenes of a sexual nature from the beginning under the cut; threesome (FMF)

2 Three’s not a Crowd

Bastien snapped awake, aware of being in an unfamiliar room and of the person next to him stirring. For the first time since his mentor’s death he had managed a night’s sleep without flashbacks. For a split second he couldn’t remember where he was, but then his memory kicked in and he let himself relax, stretching his arm up over his head and settling his palm behind his neck. The room was cool, but he preferred that to waking up hot in a heated room.

‘Good morning, King’s man’ Marcia murmured, disappearing under the bedclothes. He tensed for a moment as he realised she was going down on him, then surrendered to her ministrations. He was more than a mouthful, but she was both enthusiastic and skilled, and he was surprised how quickly he came. She swallowed and came back up for air, licking her lips. Propping herself up beside him, she reached out to his forehead, but again he stopped her from touching his hair.

‘You’ll have to let me when you return the favour’ she said huskily, and reluctantly he let her go, watching her as she reached out to gently run her fingers though his hair. She gave a slow smile.

‘No pulling’ he said as he untangled her fingers and leaned down under the covers to press his lips to her belly and work his way lower. She sighed with satisfaction and threw her thighs wide for him to taste and tease her. She wasn’t quiet and was easy to read. Her hand went to his head, and she pressed her palm to his scalp, fingers drumming as she approached her own climax. Like his own release, it was easy and quick, and they lay side by side afterwards. She was the first to sit up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and putting on a warm robe, reaching under the bed for thick socks. He sat up and watched her with a pang of regret, wanting somehow to stay longer - until his belly rumbled. She laughed and threw another robe and thick woollen socks on the bed.

‘Here, King’s man, wear this. I’ll start the coffee and make oatmeal’ She left the room and he rose, shrugging on the garment which fitted reasonably well as she was a well built woman. He had gathered his scattered clothes the night before and folded them neatly, putting them on a chair in the bedroom. He retrieved his boxer shorts, wrinkling his nose at having to wear them again, but there was no help for it. After going to the bathroom he emerged into a narrow hallway and counted the doors as he made his way toward the main room. He heard her clattering around in the tiny kitchen which adjoined the lounge and stood in the doorway watching her.

‘How many of you live here?’ he asked. She handed him a cup of hot black coffee, indicating cream and sugar on the worktop, but he waved his hand to reject them.

‘There’s my companion Angela, who you met, and our foster son. He’s away at the training academy right now, but he’ll be back in a couple of days’ His stomach clenched and he sipped the strong black brew.

‘Foster son?’ he asked

‘Yes, we’re more his mentors than his guardians as you’d understand it. He’s applied to train for the guard and the two of us support him. It’s common practice here in Lythikos. We get this cabin and a small stipend in return, otherwise we’d be living in the barracks.’

‘His parents?’ he asked as she turned back to the stove to stir the pot of oatmeal, tossing in some dried fruit and nuts.

‘He’s an orphan.’ she said shortly, and he sensed it was time to stop asking questions before he gave out his own secrets. He didn’t hide the fact that he had been fostered, but it wasn’t something that he bandied about casually and he had only just met this woman. He just nodded and sat at the table, leaning back into the wooden chair and watching her cook in comfortable silence. Before long she had ladled out the food into two bowls and brought it across, pouring a little cream into hers before taking a spoonful. He tasted it and decided it was sufficient as was. He hunched over it, eating slowly so he didn’t overload his digestion.

‘So, do you want to come hunting with me?’ she asked ‘You can use Angela’s rifle if you don’t have your own gun’

‘I wasn’t expecting to hunt’ he admitted ‘But it sounds good. What sort of game do you expect to bag?’ she shrugged.

‘Deer if we’re lucky, rabbit if not. If we encounter any boar it’s best to leave them, they can get nasty. It’s more of a group effort getting those beasts’

‘Do we need to travel far?’

‘No, we just need to go to the other side of the valley, half an hour’s drive. This side has snow cover, the other is wooded so it’s great for game’ He nodded approvingly.

‘I’m in’ he said ‘I’d better let my Captain know what I’m doing but I don’t think he’ll object. I’ll have to go back to my billet to get a change of clothes too.’

‘Okay, you do that when you’ve finished eating and I’ll pick you up in an hour’

-------

It was mid afternoon and the winter light was fading when they drove one of the Lythikan Guard’s SUVs back to her cabin with a few rabbits and a young deer. He had been the one to bring down the deer but he didn’t quite match her skill with the rifle. She regularly hunted for the pot, whereas most of the time when he handled firearms it was a handgun on targets in the Guards’ shooting range. She handed over their contribution to the head of her cabin’s block, a dark haired older man called Greg. He grunted at the sight of the deer.

‘That’s a good size, folk will be pleased to have venison. We’ve got a bit of hog left if you want to help yourself, and there’s plenty of vegetable stew.’ He looked at Bastien. ‘I’ve seen you with Jackson. I was sorry to hear he fell in service. He was a good hunter himself though he didn’t get much chance once he’d been promoted to Captain’ Bastien nodded, not sure how to answer him, but he was spared the effort as a younger man walked up to assess the kill and take it away to be butchered for the pot.

Marcia led Bastien to the centre of the common to the cooking fire, which was not entirely open to the elements as it was sheltered by a wooden frame which had a tarpaulin roof and moveable wooden panels to shield it from any wind. A spit with pork on it stood at the edge of the fire to keep warm, while a pot was suspended at the centre of the fire, bubbling with an aromatic smell of meat and vegetables. A table stood beside it with a few ceramic crocks. She filled one with fragrant stew from the huge cauldron and sliced up a few pieces of pork and beckoned him to follow her back to her cabin.

They had eaten bread, cheese and tart apples when they’d taken a break from tracking deer, and the aroma of the hot food made his mouth water. They sat at the kitchen table as before with two bowls, and no sooner had they settled than Bastien heard the main door open then slam shut.

‘Marcie, I’m home!’ The voice was that of a young man, and he burst into the room, smile fading as he saw Bastien, who stood politely to greet him. As quick as he was, Marcia was faster, getting up and running across the room to embrace the gangly youth, who looked warily at Bastien over her shoulder.

‘Marco, you’re back early’ she cried, then drew back to hold him at arms length, regarding him with concern ‘What did you do?’ she asked. He snorted.

‘Finished top of all my classes’ he boasted ‘So they let me off.’ She pursed her lips sceptically, and the boy nodded at her guest ‘Who’s this?’

‘Marco, this is Bastien, he’s a King’s Guard. I took him hunting today’ she smiled ‘Thanks to him, we’ll have venison tomorrow’ Bastien stepped away from the table, extending his hand in the Lythican handshake he’d learned from his mentor, remembering his words. ‘Always do it like this, Lykel, one hand, then the other on top of it. It indicates you’ve no weapon and you’re not a threat. It will win you respect’ He hoped he was applying the correct pressure – too tight and you were communicating your superiority, too soft and you showed weakness. He judged that he should give firm but equal pressure because although he was the boy’s elder, he was a stranger in the house and non Lythikan.

‘Sir’ Marco intoned cautiously.

‘Take your coat off and come and have some stew’ Marcia said ‘I got extra for Angela but you can have it. She can get her own when she comes off shift’ Marcia smiled weakly at Bastien as the boy turned to go back into the hall.

‘I thought we’d have more time alone’ she said quietly ‘But it’s good to have him home’ Bastien wondered where he’d be sleeping that night, a little disappointed at the thought of losing her companionship. They had worked well together when they hunted, and like him she was the kind of person who didn’t feel the need to fill silence with empty words. The sex had been more than satisfying, but he was used to going without for long periods. It was a shame nonetheless.

Marco came back and drew up a chair while Marcia served out the rest of the stew and pork, adding a crust of bread for each of them. The three of them ate, silently at first, then Marcia began to ask Marco about his studies. Bastien watched the two of them, feeling that he should leave them to their talk. He was first to finish, and took his bowl to clean it.

‘I imagine the academy is similar to the one at the capitol’ Marcia remarked to him.

‘I’m not sure, as I’ve not been there myself’ he replied ‘It’s likely.’

‘It can’t be that long since you graduated’ she continued

‘I had three years training for the King’s Guard. I didn’t start there until I was eighteen’

‘Oh’ she replied ‘Military training starts at sixteen in Lythikos’ She and Marco had finished eating, and he took their bowls too.

‘I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do.’ he went on, seeing the young man regarding him curiously ‘I trained in karate when I was fifteen, and my foster parents encouraged me to join the Guard, although he was a maths teacher and my foster mother was an artist. It was a good decision – my job is very important to me.’ Marco looked up at him as he finished eating.

‘You’re fostered too?’ he asked, and Bastien nodded.

‘That’s right. I never knew my father, and my mother died when I was thirteen’ Marcia and her ward exchanged glances.

‘I’m sorry to hear that’ Marcia said ‘Marco’s parents died in an avalanche when the resort was being built’

‘That was unfortunate’ he said sympathetically. Marcia rose and doled out apples in the silence that followed. Bastien didn’t particularly want one, but took his as a good example for Marco.

‘I know I just got back’ Marco said, munching the crisp but sour fruit ‘But Brett invited me over. I thought if I went there tonight, I could spend Christmastide here’ He referred to Christmas and the day before and after, a traditional Lythican holiday. It reminded Bastien that there wasn’t much time before he could get back to the Palace and check up on the Walker family.

‘Were you thinking of a sleepover?’ she asked.

‘That’s right. He’s struggling with military history and he wanted me to help him with his assignment’

‘Is his sister Lydia at home?’ Marcia asked, and the young man blushed scarlet. Bastien tried to hide a smile, recognising that Marco most probably had a crush on the sister and was trying to find a way to impress her. Marcia’s eyes narrowed, and he looked sheepish, knowing she’d seen right through him. She reached out and slapped his shoulder.

‘Okay Marco, but just the one night. If I hear you’ve got into mischief, you’ll be grounded for the rest of the holiday, understand?’ He looked suitably grateful and embarrassed.

‘Thanks, Marcia. I promise not to get into trouble’ He threw his apple core into the compost caddy and loped out of the room. Marcia turned back to Bastien with a wide grin.

‘Looks like we have some more time together, King’s man. If you’ve nothing better to do’ He raised his chin and cocked an eyebrow.

‘I’ve not heard from my Captain, so my guess is I’m not needed’ he said in a neutral tone. She moved closer to him and spoke quietly.

‘Angela will be back soon. Perhaps you’d like to get to know her better’ His mind reeled as she nudged him ‘The bed’s plenty big for three, you know’ He swallowed – he wasn’t a stranger to threesomes, or moresomes for that matter, but he wondered if he could take on two Lythikan women. She seemed to read his mind ‘We’ll be gentle with you’ she murmured in his ear. He gripped the edge of the table and hoped he was up to the task, because he had no intention of backing down…

--------

‘Marcie!’ This time when Bastien heard the main door open and shut, the voice was female. Marco was gone, and he and Marcia were drinking wine. He stood as Angela, who had paused in the hall to remove her cloak, entered the room and raked him with her gaze. ‘Well well, you got a keeper here. Did you give him a good workout or have you been saving him for me?’ she purred. She was a little shorter and slighter than Marcia, fairer of skin and with pale brown hair, cropped as all the rest of the Lythikan Guard.

‘I think he’s got staying power, we’ve had a good time so far’ Marcia grinned ‘But don’t touch his hair, he doesn’t like it’ Bastien cleared his throat.

‘I always give my best, and I’ve yet to disappoint’ he asserted. ‘You can touch my hair, but don’t mess it up.’ he grinned and winked at Marcia as if sharing a private joke.

‘You’ll want to eat first’ Marica said, starting up for the kitchen, but Angela put her hand on her arm as she passed, stopping her. She leaned closer, still fixing Bastien with her gaze.

‘It’s fine, Captain laid on a spread for my shift. I’m good’ The two women smiled slowly and Bastien felt an urge to loosen his tie – except he wasn’t wearing one. He swallowed and squared up to the task, determined not to give way.

‘Well, ladies - shall we go to the bedroom?’ he suggested.

‘Whoa, whoa – hang on, King’s man. Let’s at least introduce ourselves’ said Angela. He tilted his head in apology.

‘Of course. Unless you want to persist with the nickname, the name’s Bastien Lykel’

‘A name that has merit. I’m Angela Firstfist’ she remarked, and advanced on him, stopping close. She raised her hand to his cheek. Their eyes locked and she leaned closer. He initiated the kiss, aware that he was outnumbered and needed to stay in control as much as possible, as we wasn’t sure just how much he could trust the two friends. She was an enthusiastic kisser, and her hand went to the back of his neck, open mouthed and with her tongue exploring. He became aware of Marcia moving behind him, and she also leaned into him, nuzzling at his neck and pressing her palms to his buttocks. He felt himself rapidly harden as the two women started to pull at his clothes. He followed suit, untucking Angela’s blouse and exploring her warm flesh.

The three of them worked at undressing each other, gasps and satisfied moans punctuating their movements. Angela sank to the couch and he followed her down as she parted her thighs and pulled him to kneel in front of her. He needed no prompting to start exploring with his tongue, and she proved to be only a little less noisy than her housemate. Marcia contributed with caresses and kisses to the both of them. Before she reached her climax, Angela stopped him, gasping and breathless. He raised his eyebrows at Marcia, who smiled.

‘It’s not your tongue she wants, King’s man’ she laughed. Angela pulled Bastien to sit on the coloured throw of the couch and pivoted to straddle him. She was slighter than Marcia, her breasts larger but her body toned and muscular. She reached down over her belly to wrap her fingers around his engorged member and her eyes lit up.

‘You were right Marcie, he’s more than a handful’ she bit her lip in anticipation as Marcia produced a condom, ripping the packet open for her. She sat back to roll it over him and repositioned herself. ‘We usually please ourselves’ she explained to him ‘but every now and again a man takes our eye and we take him out for a spin. You’re a lucky man.’ Marcia caressed Angela’s shoulders and nuzzled at her neck as she guided Bastien to her entrance, slowly sinking onto him. She wasn’t as tight as Marcia, but it was still a snug fit, and she rolled her eyes in bliss. He put his hands to her hips to steady her as she began a slow rising and falling. Marcia’s hand wandered between her thighs as she watched them pick up speed, sighing with passion.

Bastien remembered what the madam of the Greek brothel he visited each year told him. He had gone there for advice on how to manage his size, being more than average in length and girth, and she had offered for him to spend a week annually, helping to train her girls in how to handle larger men. She had told him that in order to last longer, he should think of something distracting – a list of the monarchs of Cordonia or the duchies and their current dukes – anything boring and banal. He listened to Angela’s sighs and gasps as he thought of other things, and timed it perfectly to hold off until he was sure she was ready. She came with a great cry, writhing and arching, pulsing around him and triggering his orgasm. They slowed and came to a stop, letting their breath settle before she climbed off him and he made his way to the bathroom to clean up and dispose of the condom.

As he left the bathroom Marcia was waiting for him with an open mouthed kiss and lead him to the bedroom. They lay resting for a while, the two women either side of him, stroking him back to hardness. That didn’t take long – he had good recovery, and having twice as much stimulation as normal made it even easier.

’Have you been with two women before?’ Angela asked.

‘More than two’ he asserted, and Marcia laughed out loud.

‘I picked a good one. It makes up for your friend refusing Angela’

‘I’m sorry for that’ Bastien replied ‘He’s thinking of proposing to his girlfriend.’ Marcia frowned.

‘They allow marriage in the King’s guard? We don’t have that privilege. We have to be devoted to our jobs.’

‘It’s not common, but it’s allowed’

‘Would you have said yes if we’d both approached you last night?’

‘To be honest, I’m not sure. You Lythikans have a reputation, but I don’t usually back down from a challenge’

‘What would make you back down?’ Angela asked.

‘Knowing I’d lose for sure. It’s not worth the energy’ He turned toward Marcia ‘I believe you’ve missed out so far. Do you have any preferences?’ Her eyes darkened.

‘There is one position I like, but I’ll add to it a little. Just follow our lead’ She moved over to her housemate and whispered in her ear. Angela smiled and lay on her back, thighs open, and Marcia went down on her on all fours. Bastien grunted as he understood what she wanted, and went to the bedside table to retrieve another condom before he knelt behind her. He stroked her buttocks and ran his fingers over her sex, delving inside so she writhed and moaned as she in turn paid attention to the other woman.

The position was a real test of his endurance, as it was one of his favourites and he had to be sensitive to his partner. He couldn’t be too rough, though he was sure she would adjust and adapt to what he did. Her attention was split between them as he eased inside her. He went slow and gentle. The sounds the two women made threatened to push him over the edge, so he concentrated on remembering the duty roster he’d had to organise the week before. Angela gasped and thrashed under Marcia’s tongue, and came noisily. Marcia pulled her head away, panting with passion.

‘Harder, King’s man, harder’ she moaned as Angela rolled away and lay watching them, eyelids hooded, gaze slightly vacant in her afterglow. Bastien picked up speed, gripping Marcia’s hips, thankful for the firm mattress the Lythikan guard favoured. It gave him more purchase than a soft one, and he was soon pounding into her as she gasped and moaned in pleasure. At last he felt the flutter that signalled her climax, and he let himself go with a grunt, slowing and stopping as Marcia sank to the mattress, trembling and moaning. He mustered the last of his strength to dispose of the condom, and joined the two women in a tangle of limbs and bedclothes, swiftly slipping into a satisfied slumber.

@sirbeepsalot @stopforamoment @drakesensworld @katedrakeohd @texaskitten30 @be-still-my-aching-heart @hopefulmoonobject @dcbbw @classylady1234 @rainbowsinthestorm @kimmiedoo5 @bascmve01 @ibldw-main @addictedtodrakefanfic @trappedinfandoms @fluffyfirewhiskey @kingliam2019 @bobasheebaby @marshmallowsaremyfavorite

#bastien lykel #Bastien x OC #lythikos

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hermitcraftheadcanons · 4 years

Text

Zombie Apocalypse AU Masterpost 2 Electric Boogaloo

Previous Post: https://hermitcraftheadcanons.tumblr.com/post/618314308275863552/zombie-apocalypse-au-masterpost

-Bdubs is slowly going feral because he has the virus, it just doesn't show itself physically.

-Cub was tempted to purposefully get the virus to try and help find a cure, (they probably don't have lab rats given the circumstances,) by Scar talked him out of it.

-The timeline of events with DocM is that he started in the NHO group, they ended up dispersing (Etho turned and then left to ensure the safety of his friends, Beef ended up going separate due to Doc and Bdubs' constant fighting and Bdubs stormed off after an argument.) He ends up getting taken in by TFC, (he's the first to arrive,) and eventually captures Rendog.

-Stressmonster and Iskall originally lived in a cabin in the mountains. After Iskall got swept away in a snow storm and Joe and Cleo stopped by, Stress had no idea there was a Zombie outbreak.

-Hypnotizd and XB ended up trespassing in Jevin's property and Jevin shot Hypno. XB pleaded to Jevin that they weren't zombies and to not hurt them further and Jevin begrudgingly went, 'okay, fine. You aren't taking my food though.'

-Impulse's weapon of choice was a shovel.

-Grian can't fly in this AU. Let's be real, if he could, it would be pretty OP.

-Keralis most definetly gave a larger share of his rations to Xisuma while he was sick.

-TangoTek entirely blames himself for Impulse leaving and Zedaph getting bit. He feels especially conflicted because he wants to leave because he's convinced they both hate him and blame him but he can't because 'what if they go looking for him?' 'What if someone worse comes from that?'

-The location of Etho's bite is right on the front of the neck. He actually passed out from blood loss initially and he very nearly died. (Luckily for him the zombie didn't pull away, ripping out anything important (like a windpipe of an oesophagus,) giving Doc time to carefully unhinge the zombie's jaw and save Etho.) Nobody was quite sure how Etho was even alive with a big chunk out of his neck until he started displaying some strange behaviour.

-False is usually the one who stays up late to stand guard and protect her group.

-Mumbo accidentally caught Hypno in one of his traps at one point but let him go.

-Hay here’s a dumb idea, The reason ren is immune to the zombie virus is because he has like an anti-zombie virus in his body it behaves just like a normal zombie virus but it doesn’t turn you into a zombie, so how the hermits turn the zombie hermits human again is by making ren bite them.

-I have an angst ending and a no-angst ending so first here's the not-angst one: Doc and Ren team up with Cub and Scar to make a cure (so Ren doesn't have to bite everyone personally). They travel around finding every bitten survivor and salvageable zombie they can, using the weapons and resources from the NHO for protection. They find ways of producing and distributing enough cure for everyone, and during that process all of the Hermits decide to stay friends and in touch afterward.

-For the Zombie AU, if Scar doesn't already have like a different role in this au, he could've possibly been the first human infected because *someone's* pet cat ate a weird looking mouse and bit their owner.

-This is very angsty and gory, so fair warning: How fast does the virus spread through the body from the bite? If slow, you can cut the bitten part off before it spreads out through the body. To doc having a robot arm, what if he got bit and out of fear, they amputated his arm to stop the spread. I know y'all probably don't wanna go with body horror, but that's something to consider in this AU.

-Lowkey I feel zombie Etho doesnt do justice to his epic PVP skillz, but!! I do see Etho to be something SIMILAR to it! Idk if you've ever played Telltale's The Walking Dead game, but Etho could a zombie whisperer, a human who wears zombie skin and lives amongst the zombies for protection. So when Etho got bit, they THOUGHt he turned but actually just decided, hey I live here now and just vibin.

-You know how ren being a werewolf is popular in the fandom(from what I've seen) maybe that's why is immune to being a zombie and getting bitten by him if your infected cures it because the zombie infection and werewolf infection cancel eachother out.

-A more jokey Zombie!Au thing: The first episode of Llamas with hats but it's Zombie!Etho and Beef.

-I feel like if Wels could get to some of his friends he would try his hardest to protect them and if he ever managed to get bit it would be to save someone else.

-There is just always so much angst potential in any scenario or AU where it involves the possibility of Wels sacrificing himself in some way to protect his friends from something poor bb 😔

-Would infected hermits be able to like recognize people after the infection zombified them or whatever it is? Because if so oh my god imagine the angst.

(All those above in red are from our community's lovely anons!)

-About the anti-zombie Ren bite thing: Doc has the idea suddenly in the middle of an argument so the conversation goes a little like this:

Ren: "So what I'm trying to say, my dude, is that would never work because -"

Doc: "Ren. Bite me."

Ren: "Oh yeah, real mature way to end a disagreement there -"

Doc: *facepalming* "No, Ren, I mean actually.... Just do it, I'll explain later."

-Angst ending: They could never produce enough cure to stem the tide of undeath. They all choose to band together and take shelter underground, hoping to wait it out. They use X's tunnel, but that many people that close together smells irresistible to a horde. The zombies flood after them into the tunnel. X says he'll buy them some time, even though he is terrified. He collapses the tunnel on himself and the zombies so the others can escape. His last thought: At least I get to die as myself.

-Thinking about Etho's bite location (you said it was on his neck): Most bites are on the shoulder or leg (bit from behind while running away) or on the arm (bit while raised to defend). To be bitten on the neck he would have to have his arms and shoulders lowered. Etho, being a good fighter, would have only done this if it was absolutely necessary. Conclusion: he was bitten with his arms stretched out to protect someone behind him, and he knew the consequence that his choice would have.

-(@shadeswiftdraws.)

-The NHO are all strangely dressed (Etho is kakashi, Doc is green, Bdubs has a bandana,) because they were all at a cosplay convention. (-@tomcatacaphe.)

-When Etho left The nHo, he brings a Journal with him. Every Night he'll write a Journal entry. He'll write just about anything, there even some random lyrics and some pretty flowers he pick up along his travels. But as the Journal goes on, the words slowly became wobbly. Inconsistent. until finally, Unreadable chicken skrach. His final (at least readable) entry is: "-I hoPE yoU GUyZ ArE DoInG bETThEr ThAn I Am" As some point in time, Etho lost his Journal and Joe hills found it.

-Speaking of Joe Hill, he made it his personal mission to collect every literature and entertament media he can possibly carry on him. From Dnd Book, poetry, Documentary DVD's, to random journal He think would be usefull. Stress is happy to help Joe but Cleo is a little annoyed because it's will only slow them down, but Joe Argued that "If there's no knowledge left, then what will the future be? Just staying alive and surviving?" Cleo begrudgingly agrees.

-I can totally see Joe and Cleo Rocking an actual Sword and Dnd Cosplay (Joe got is a gift while Cleo Commissions her's after seeing Joe whip out his sword one time in a one shot DnD session) they keep the swords, but they ditch the Costume pretty early on tho.

-Mumbo's next Job Interview would be schedule at Concorp. But then the Zombie apocalypse happened on his way there.

(-@tearosepedall.)

-I don’t want this au to end but here’s my take: most of them get to the bunker where they don’t develop a cure, but do create a vaccine. Occasionally they will venture out to hand out the vaccine to survivors. Still, they all decide to stay into stay together. But because they were unable to develop a cure, even though they really try, there are some how have been lost such as etho, zed, and mumbo. Still the rest of them morn and try their best to survive without modern society. (-@lookitsspacekween.)

https://hermitcraftheadcanons.tumblr.com/post/618587883366957056/tw-very-brief-mention-of-vomit-general-warnings (-@carpe-shovelem.)

-Funny/happy ending to the Zombie AU: The hermits set up a zombie funneling system where the ones that didn't die from infection get bit by Ren to get turned back and they return the dead and give them proper burials. (-@my-cat-is-a-bastard.)

-I just remembered the thought post with Tuartis sleeping through things, Bdubs sleeping through the apocalypse, but now we've got Wels on the sleep team too! Wonder if he'd have slept through the apocalypse as well... (-@853dragons.)

TW: Mentions of dead animals:

I've got one last bit for the zombie au, it ties into my parasite one: With the rumors that the outbreak started in the Convex cancer research facility, and Scar feeling guilt because he Should Have Been Able To Stop This... It really was their fault. As a company. It wasn't intentional, of course, but Convex created the parasite. It was during research into a cure for certain conditions that are notoriously risky/impossible to perform surgery on, like brain tumors or lukemia-type cancer. The hope was to utilize the parasites as something that could harmlessly go in, eat or destroy all the cancerous cells, then die off, leaving a perfectly healthy human. The research project was abandoned after a several years, when every single attempt ended with either dead or, in later years, extremely sickly rats. Although the final round seemed promising, the rats weren't showing obvious signs of a decline in health after two weeks, Convex was convinced to just give it up and that the utilization of parasitic worms was asking for more trouble than it was worth. Plus, PETA was getting dangerous with their choices in protest against the tests, which was the main reason it was called off. Cub and the board of directors didn't want to risk bodily harm to their researchers, and it truly was getting so beyond ridiculous that a few bodyguards weren't enough protection.

Some researchers took some of the test rats home as pets, including our Patient Zero, because they really were quite cute. Patient Zero got bit by his rat, and nobody really thought anything of it for a couple weeks until his behavior took a bad turn. He was picking fights and throwing verbal abuse, and no amount of warnings and write-ups were giving any hint of stopping him. It all finally resulted in him viciously biting fellow labworkers, which sent two of them and himself to the ER. Upon arrival he had to be restrained and isolated lest he bite more people. He was fired from the company, his bodyguards pulled, but Scar had been friends and continued to visit him regularly, wondering where the change had come from, and saddened by his old friend's obvious decline in health. Nurses told him he was refusing to eat or drink, and too violent to reason with nor release to anywhere but the police or psychiatric hospital. Soon, there were more reports of uncharacteristicly aggressive actions from PZ's victims. And from there.... Well, it's your choice where the story goes, but it didn't take long for Scar to put the puzzle together.

-(@basaltdragon.)

More to be added!

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