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camisoledadparis · 2 months ago

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STORY: The Vampire Had his Fangs in My Cock (But It's OK)

Adam was a tall, thin, muscular Goth boy, 22 yo, pale skin, black hair,with a big bubble butt.

Adam was a tall, thin, muscular Goth boy, 22 yo, pale skin, black hair,with a big bubble butt. His grandmother had died and left him $5,000. Bored, he wanted to travel (and get away from the Maine winters), so he booked the cheapest gay Band B in the San Juan, Puerto Rico area. He arrived by cab a week later. The place was a large frame house and four slightly run down cabins, covered with vines and flowers. Adam was the only single Gay,the other cabins having older gay couples.

Juan the manager, who signed him in, was Spanish,with some Black features-No shirt on, showing his massive pecs., and massive bulge in his chino pants.The first night ,after dinner Juan visited Adam to see if everything was OK, and after a couple of rum and cokes on the couch, Adam was sucking Juans massive black tool, 9" long, and 6" around. A short time later he was on his belly in the bed and Juan was slowly and thoroughly fucking his lubed-up ass. There was incredibly pain the first time-but only for a bit-then it all turned into pleasure. Adam went to sleep early with a slightly sore ass. In the early morning, he had a dream of someone coming into the room and giving him an incredible blow job-and him shooting massive amounts of Cum. The bed was wet with Cum when he awoke,so he must have had a wet dream.He had breakfast, met some of the other guests, walked to the nearby long,curving beach and had a swim, went back and had nap. That evening he met his Host, a tall thin, older man-no lines on his face-but seemingly ancient around the eyes. His second night, Juan came by and they had incredible sex-Juan was incredible at fucking. He went to bed early and fell asleep-and in a short while still half asleep, felt a toothless mouth expertly sucking him off-his rock-hard cock shooting a big load Cum.

Then he felt two tiny painless pricks, and heard a soft,sucking sound that went on for several minutes. Then a rough tongue wetly washed his whole dick and balls.- Then complete silence. In about ten minutes his still wet cock swelled up to about double size, was rock hard and his Balls swelled up larger also.The hard-on was so intensely hard, he had to get up and walk about. The cabin next door had its lights still on, so he put on a robe and went over to ask the older gays about the abnormal hard-on. The bearded guy, a retired paramedic, looked and and handled his rigid dick and said nothing seemed wrong. They offered him a drink and he sat on the couch between them, with his huge erect cock sticking straight up. The smaller,older gay guy suggested massage and before Adam could say yes, was off the couch and gently masturbating the massive 8" tool. 'Maybe getting the Cum out would help', he said. And he quickly put his dentureless, toothless mouth down, and in a couple of frantic minutes, sucked out a big cumload. Then the bearded guy got down and quickly sucked a Cumload out also. The swelling of the rock-hard dick did go down somewhat. The bearded paramedic said, 'stay the night,just as a precaution'. Adam on his potent third or fourth rum and coke, willingly was lead into the bedroom and they all got in bed nude-Adam in middle. The older gay guy said-'we'll just keep sucking till the cock goes down, OK?'Adam on his back,still with a stiff and swollen cock, and swollen balls.,nodded OK.Adam fell asleep and just half woke up a short time later to shoot two of three relaxing orgasms. In the morning he woke relaxed, to a hairy body sucking him and 69ing with him-and them both shooting a cum load-and a few minutes later a skinnier body also with a hard 7"dick, 69ining with him, and he also shot a cum load with skinnier guy. They all got up and Adam's abnormal hard-on had partially gone down.Adam thanked the guys, they thanked him, and he went back to get dressed for breakfast. More swimming and then a nap, and a drink invite from the guys next door, which he declined. That night, after dinner, and while reading a sci fi book, Juan showed up for drinks and to give him a great quick fuck-but he first fucked Adams's mouth,liking that as a warm-up. Adam learned that Juan visited all the cottages nightly to make sure all the guests were comfortable,(and had a very high sex drive-plus sex drugs).

After Juan left, Boris showe up and said he had a job offer for Adam. His Young assistant had run away one night, a few days before Adam came to the B&B.Adam admitted he didn't have a job and hated the cold,and accepted the job at $500 a week.Boris said there was some private details Adam needed to know, First Boris would probably suck him off most nights. Adam nodded OK. So, Boris quickly kneeled down,and with his mainly toothless mouth, gave Adam a quick great,shuddering orgasm. Adam has never had better, left his legs open.Boris gave him a pill and said it would relax him...in about 5 minutes Adam was floating in a heavenly space. Totally spaced out and relaxed, Boris then told him-'I need a couple teaspoons of blood every evening'. Juan gives me some, and I need it from one other person. I'm a kind person-not an evil vampire, Just an old person from Romania, with medical needs.Can I have a couple teaspoons of your blood? Adam, blissed out, nods yes.Boris,kneels, opens his toothless mouth wide and two slender fangs descend from deep in the upper gum. He quickly and painless sinks them in to the large vein in Adams' cock. There's a gentle sucking sound for a minute or so, then he lifts his mouth- the fangs retract upward and he licks the cock all over with his saliva and the puncture marks disappear. Then he gives Adam another incredibly thrilling suck job.

Adam nods off for a couple of minutes and when he looks up from the couch, Boris is gone. In ten minutes his cock swells up double size again, and his balls swell up.He puts on a robe and goes next door, as the light is still on.. "The cock swelled up again', he says, and the balls are swollen-so I can shoot unlimited loads like I did last night'.

The older bearded gay, partially drunk-says 'we can handle that'-and they drag him into the cabin. In ten minutes all the lights in the cabin flick off.

By Del Crane

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shedontsmelltoogooddarious · 4 months ago

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-Mister Black-

Information on Black/my eldritch mafia boss from the Chromenoir fics I've been posted.

Name: Boris Ivanov.

Alias: Mister Black/Black.

Age: 114 years (Physically in his 50s.)

Birthdate: August 15th, 1908.

Gender: Male presenting

Sex: FtM Transman.

Species: Faceless.

Sexuality: Pansexual.

Height: 7’0 ft.

Weight: 300 pounds.

Skin: Paper white.

Face: Blocky/chiseled.

Hair: Black, brushed back.

Nationality: Russian.

-Description-

Black is a stocky, muscular man with scars across his skin and various tattoos beneath his clothing. His face has a skin like membrane covering it, except for his right eye where the protection was torn open- prompting him to wear an eye path. Hairy fuzz trails down his chest to his groin, leaving behind a trail. In his mouth are pointed, serrated teeth and for his nails are hard, black claws he covers with gloves. Lastly, he has four black tendrils- while his inner flesh is black itself, prompting the nickname.

Clothing wise, he tends to wear fancy dark suits and leather dress shoes, Over it he wears a big black trench coat. Casually, he wears a pair of dress pants and buttoned up shirts.

-Personality-

Charismatic, serious and traditional in his ways with being a man and running his mafia. He is both primarily focused on his “business” and family. He switches between hardened mafia boss to loving father that provides for his family and fiercely protects them. But he also has his dark side with holding little to no remorse with whom his mafia takes out and devistates, seeing it as business only and giving no second chances to his clients. To the same side of the coin, he has an addictive personality and is both an alcoholic and addicted to cocaine.

Strengths: Calm in tense situations, strong, teleportation, above moderate healing.

Weaknesses: Alcoholism, addicted to booger sugar and other drugs, blind in his exposed eye, PTSD attacks, arthritis in his joints, bad back.

Likes: 80s metal and jazz music, bourbon, cuban cigars, women, being in control, spaghetti westerns/noir movies.

Dislikes: Losing control, appearing weak, sleeping in, mary jane, hot weather.

Fears: Failure, losing his children, losing his empire.

-Family & Friends-

Parents: Gustave Rudolf Ivanov and Irana Lada Lebedev.

Siblings: Ebony Ivanov and Edward Inavov.

Children: Christopher Ivanov, Alek Ivanov, Natasha Alvo (Wolf)

Friends: Rico, Lola, Cuddly (Ex partner), Mabel.

Enemies: Those who get in his way.

-Quirks-

Tendrils spazm occasionally.

Black ooze comes out of all of his bodily holes while he's stressed/sometimes by accident.

His Russian accent is still strong and often makes him hard to understand.

-Additional notes-

Upon his transformation, there had been a defect where he had gained both female and male attributes, but Black chooses to identify as male and binds his chest/wear masculine clothing.

Struggles with reality, often snapping into phases where he believes it's the 1940s still.

Black has been in multiple affairs, craving the touch of a partner as he is often affection starved,

Has overdosed twice on his former addiction to painkillers, refuses to take them currently.

Is a family man, and will back seat parent other children.

-Back story-

Black was born into an impoverished family, being an unplanned and unwanted child along with his twin sister. Both were born female, and both would scourge the streets of Moscow for handouts. Their brother Edward, was locked away in the gologue- but before, he would teach his twin sisters to pickpocket and commit small crimes to sustain themselves while their mother paid little, to no attention them.

Upon their brother being sent to the gologue for the crime of theft and murder, their mother had lost her means of having what little income she had. She resorted to selling the twins to someone who claimed to want them for labor purposes. Little did she know that he was a part of a secret military experiment, gathering test subjects to infect with the Faceless disease.

Many of the test subjects have succumbed to their transformations, often having killed themselves or their bodies going into shock. The military wanted to create super soldiers. Black and Ebony were both infected, being twelve years old at the time. Both would overcome the first trial of the disease and would successfully transform. Black would be experimented on and trained alongside his sister. It was after the transformation he would begin to feel dysphoria, and begin to identify as a male.

As a young man, Black was separated from his sister and placed into the battlezone of World War II. After the war, he disappeared- attempting to act as if nothing happened as he morphed into a human man and made his way to New York city to start over. Once again he had nothing, could barely speak English, and found himself homeless. Black was exhausted of life, and with his PTSD and past haunting him, he attempted to end his life on the pier. Despite using a gun, his body morphed back into a faceless and he found himself still alive.

It was then he decided he had a purpose, and found himself once again on the streets but this time taking hits and dirty dealings that no average man could. As he made connections and spoke with other humans, a few wanted the gifts he had to share in his new found strength. Those turned would be loyal to him, helping him learn as he built up his charisma and found himself surrounded by people. Over the years, Black would gradually build his criminal empire and take over the criminal underworld while giving his members the greatest gift money couldn’t buy.

Currently he is still running his mafia, now a father and CEO of a designer clothing enterprise to serve as a front for his shadier business practices.

#original character #eldritch oc #eldritch horror #mafia boss #character reference

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prostolita · 8 months ago

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The King and Queen

Ow:Rene Raven.

Rico hisses as Rene treats the wound on his shoulder. She could have started with her face, but the wound on her right arm is bleeding more heavily. Rico bends over while Walker stitches. He can't scream, he can't cry in pain. His lungs fill with smoke, and for a moment his vision goes dark. Rene hands him a bottle of vodka. She's not Kevin, of course, but she also has a personal supply of alcohol. However, Kevin never drank in front of Rico, which is not the case with Rene.

Rico bites his lip until it bleeds, and a metallic taste appears in his throat. Rico tries to remain calm, to remain unperturbed. He needs to get back to training, not heal his wounds like a wounded swan. He clutches the black sheet in his hands and looks at the smooth stitches left by Rene.

— Are you completely crazy? Why did you climb? — In response to the name-calling, Rene slaps Rico on the back. He hisses in response, but still bends his line. — That's not the best option, Uncle doesn't like disobedience.

— Consider that I was bored.

Renee smiles, she pierces the skin with a needle for the last time and processes the finished stitches.

— You really are a fool.

This time Walker digs his fingers into the wound, Rico screams and turns around. It hurts him, but he will never admit that someone is dominating him.

— Watch your mouth, Captain.

Rene's gaze is sharper than any knife. She treated the remaining wounds on her shoulders and moved on to her face.

She turned Rico towards her. His eyebrow and nose are smashed, and his face is covered in blood. From the outside, it resembles a scene from a thriller or an action movie. However, there are no mythical creatures, well-trained military and maniacs here. Well, almost none. The nest is filled with children, and they are being looked after by one big monster. He tears off their wings and then sends them flying. Can he be considered a maniac?

Rene thinks so.

After treating the wounds on her face, she gently wipes the dried blood from her cheeks. Rico's eyes are almost black, they do not reflect light, because there is almost no lighting in the room. Rene looks around and smiles. Her smile is like a flickering spark in the dark. For a moment, Rico wonders if he should grab onto this flicker, but still refuses the idea.

Rene kisses him. As a consolation. Or maybe it's a way to lighten the mood. Rico's expression doesn't change, he continues to stare. Deep down, he envies and admires that smile. Deep down, he already admires Renee.

Rene examines her bruised knees, she sits down on the floor right in front of Rico and kisses his skin. Moriyama takes his time, he gently puts his hands on her lower back and squeezes until he feels the soft material of her underwear through the fabric. Rene flinches, but continues to smile, seductively and charmingly. Rico reaches under his clothes, his thin fingers grope for the feathers, and he finally smiles. Carefully leaning towards Renee, he whispers, making the girl tremble all over.

— You don't have to protect me.

Uncle is vindictive, I can't let him hurt you.

Rene puts her hands on her hips, Rico exhales heavily and lets her move on. His shoulder still hurts, so he carefully sits down on the bed, and Rene follows him.

— Shouldn't a queen protect her king? — Rico melts at her touch. Rene quickly sits on top of him and puts her knee in his groin. Rico runs his hand through her hair, soft and pleasant. He can smell the sweet fragrance coming from Walker's body.

— Isn't it the king's duty to keep an eye on the welfare of the queen? —

Rene laughs, easily and excitingly. Rico understands that training needs to be left behind. He puts his hands on Renee's waist and lifts up her black T-shirt. Renee sits on top, her hips are elastic and soft, Rico likes her legs, likes how toned and moderately pumped they look. Rene carefully takes off her shorts and stays in her favorite underwear. She likes the way the black feathers tickle her skin. Rico likes it too, and he squeezes the girl's buttocks with force. Rene laughs. Renee is like the sweetest fruit, and Rico is like a snake who wants to get it.

They are both tempted and ready to sin. However, Rico is an unbeliever.

Walker exposes his torso, she runs her tongue over his collarbones, making the guy shudder with sensations. Rico reaches for her breasts, Rene stops him with a quick slap.

— You're crippled, I'm in charge today.

The continuation of 18+ can be seen in the telegram.

#Rinee #all for the game #riko moriyama #renee walker #sketch

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mosylufanfic · 2 years ago

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A Long Way to Sunrise

I started writing this before Christmas, hoping to post it for the holiday. Then I was hoping to post it for New Year’s Eve. I will now pause for your knowing laughter.

Okay, now that we all have that out of our systems, I made up most of the holiday traditions and superstitions in this story, or plucked them out of whatever dusty store room my brain stashed them in when I read them ages ago. The exception is the food that Bix makes, which are dishes I chose because Adria Arjona was born in Puerto Rico.

A Long Way to Sunrise

They'd spent the day making the house ready for the new year, cleaning it top to bottom. After they'd finished, Bix had fallen asleep mid-afternoon, which was also traditional.

When she woke, it was well after dark. She sat up, pushing the heels of her hands into her eyes, and muttered, "Bluuuuugh," into her wrists. She had the kind of headache you got from falling asleep at a strange hour and sleeping more than a nap's worth.

The house was cold and quiet, and she shivered against it for a moment, annoyed. This was wrong, all of it. Just wrong.

On Ferrix, Life Day and the new year were midsummer holidays. Oh, of course the technical end of the year, by the Imperial calendar, was a month and a half later. But everyone on Ferrix knew the year really ended and began a week after Life Day, with Last Night and First Morn.

And the week in between, when the salvage yard and most businesses were closed, was when everyone celebrated, the sun pouring cheerfully down on them as they cooked holiday food, took gifts around the town, and held parties in the streets.

But Gangi Moon was almost perfectly opposite, as far as seasons went. They'd come away from Ferrix in a late-blooming and chill spring, and landed here in the middle of fall, already turning back to cold and dark.

To Bix, it just felt as if she was stuck in the middle of a winter that would never end.

"Stop that," she said aloud, and forced herself up out of bed.

She dug her fingers into her scalp and massaged until the tension eased, then undoing the tie at the end of her braid and combing her fingers through it until her hair spilled loose over her shoulders. She shook it out, considered her reflection in the night-dark window, and smoothed down as much of the frizzies as she could.

Then she undid the ties of her quilted jacket and the shirt underneath it, and the drawstrings of her pants, letting everything dangle loose so as not to stay tied to anything from the old year.

She'd never trucked with such superstitions before. She was Bix Caleen and she controlled her own destiny. But now, humbled and sobered in more ways than one, Bix felt the need of all the luck she could get.

With all her clothing loose like this, the chill got to her, so she pulled her blanket off her bed and wrapped it around herself. She peeked over in the other room at Brasso's bed, but it was empty. Maybe he'd gone out to get something.

She got herself some pernil from the chiller box, noting that it was close to gone, and packed the savory shredded meat into one of the sweet dinner rolls they'd made the night before Life Day. Brasso's recipe, passed from his mum and his nan, his family's Life Day tradition.

After she'd eaten her makeshift sandwich, he still wasn't back. Frowning, she assembled another one with the last of the pernil. "Bee?" she called out.

After a moment, she heard the little droid’s servos shifting and his wheels rolling slightly - his version of a sleepy query.

She went into the hall where they'd put the charger they'd managed to find. "Hey, Bee," she said, crouching down. "How's your charge?"

"Eight-t-t-ty percent."

She frowned. He'd taken to spending longer and longer on his charger lately, with a far slower charging time. "We need to get you a better charger."

"This is f-fine."

"It could be better," she said. "Where's Brasso gone to?"

"Outs-s-s-ide. In the b-back." They had a patch of back, not even big enough to be dignified with the term yard.

"All this time?" She opened the back door and found him sitting on the small, square step.

Something about the slump of his shoulders made her go out to him. "Brass? What are you doing out here? It's cold as balls."

"Just thinking," he said, with a slur at the edge of his words.

He had a bottle of something set down by his feet. She frowned at it. "Are you drunk?"

Brasso would have a drink at the pub or with friends, but she'd never seen him drunk, or even heard of it. She'd always figured it was because of his dad.

"Lil' bit," he sighed. "Just a lil' bit."

She handed him the sandwich and the last roll. "Here. Soak up some of that in your belly."

He took it. "Is this the last of it?"

"Yup. Best to get everything eaten before First Morn." She leaned up against the house and wrapped her blanket tighter around herself. "Thinking about Jezzi's message?"

"Don't know what's worse. That we're not home or that they can't celebrate proper." He was still holding the sandwich, picking at the crumbs flaking off the edge of the bread.

She kicked her heel uncertainly against the house. Usually it was her down in the dumps, and Brass trying to cheer her up. What would he say if she came up with this? "It was still Life Day, a week ago," she offered. "And tonight's still Last Night."

"No private gatherings of unrelated persons," he said gloomily. "No leaving your house after curfew. No sound above a certain decibel level. Permits for any community gatherings."

Translated, that meant no parties, lasting far into the night and inviting everyone on the street and half the town besides. No open-house day at the cramped row flats where Brasso had lived for years, where everyone threw open their doors and wandered from flat to flat, laughing and eating and drinking.

"No concert," he said. "Think of that, Bixy. No concert at the school."

Oh, now, that was taking it too far. "Nobody goes to that concert if they don't have to. It's completely dire."

He battled for a moment, then admitted, "Well, yeah, it's bad, but it's nice to know it's there all the same. I sang in that concert thirteen years, and you did too."

"Yeah," she sighed. You smirked at your friends and neighbors who had to turn up to that concert because their kids were singing, knowing that someday it'd be your turn to sit through it for some kid you loved.

He shook his head. "Isn't right," he said. "It's not the way things should be."

She couldn't say anything to that. Knowing she wasn't going to be home for Life Day, or for Last Night, had dumped her in the swamps for most of the month. She'd dragged herself to her feet most days because Brasso worried so much when she didn't, but the day after Life Day she hadn't been able to get out of bed at all. She was looking forward to being through it and not having to think about what she was missing anymore.

"A lot of things aren't the way they should be," she said. "But tonight's still Last Night."

"They won't be permitted to celebrate," he said darkly. "All those people in the streets. All the noise and the shouting, and the trumpets and the drums when the sun comes up. Like another riot."

"Still," she said. "I think they will."

"They bulldozed our wall, Bix."

Just thinking it made her sick. That had been part of Jezzi's message too. The wall - the wall of all their people -

"Our kin are rubble and gravel," Brasso went on. "You think the ones who did that will care for First Morn?"

"But Ferrix people'll stay up for Last Night," she said. "Even if it's behind closed curtains. Even if they have to stay out of the streets. Even if they can't sing the last moon down or cheer the sun when it rises. They'll stay up."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because we are."

He twisted around and stared at her a moment. There were tears in his eyes. He looked away, wiped his nose, then reached down for the bottle. "This rotten stuff is doing my head in, and no mistake."

"Best pour it out, then."

"Rather make a rebel's cocktail with it." He sloshed it thoughtfully, then sighed and flipped it upside down, letting the cheap stuff glug into the dirt. "But there's nothing for us to light on fire here, so pouring it out it is."

She wrinkled her nose. "From the smell of it, a rebel's cocktail is the best use for it anyway."

He was still holding the sandwich, and now he took a meditative bite. "Did I tell you this was really good?" he asked with his mouth full.

"You did."

"You didn't make any of your rice this week."

"I made rice."

"Yeah, and it was good, but not the special rice you make, with the sort of - " He waved the half-eaten sandwich. "The beans in."

"Arroz con gandules," she said.

"That's it. Yeah. S'good."

"I couldn't get the pigeon peas," she said. She'd barely been able to get the seasoning for the pernil, which had come as a nasty shock. There were so many Mimbran families, or families that had been Mimbran recently enough to still cook the food, living on Ferrix that things like pigeon peas and good spices were a basic staple in the grocer's. Not here, though.

"Ah,” he said. “Sorry about that."

She hugged the blanket tighter around herself and made her voice brisk. "It's just food. It's all right."

She'd told herself that over and over, the day she lay in bed. It's just food. There's no reason to feel so awful about it. Don't be so silly.

He shook his head. "You used to make that all the time back home. I remember you brought a great dish of it when my dad died."

She probably had; it was her go-to for occasions like that. Mostly because if she made a big enough batch there was plenty left over for her even after she'd taken some to whatever family was grieving or celebrating.

"Surprised you want any, with an association like that."

"I do, though. Every time I took a bite, I knew someone was thinking of me." He finished off the sandwich, rubbed his hands together briefly, and tucked them into crooks of his elbows. "Same with what everyone brought."

She nudged him with her foot. "Mine was best, though, right?"

"Of course," he said. He gave her a sly look. "Better'n Jezzi's famous green beans. But don't tell her I told you that."

"It goes with me to the grave," she said solemnly.

She thought of when her own dad had died. She'd been too numb and exhausted to think anything but food I don't have to cook about the dishes that crammed her chiller box. But Brasso was right. Every dish had been brought by someone who was thinking of her.

Maybe that was why they all did it. Bix had never thought of it more deeply then, that's what you do.

Brasso hadn't brought anything, but nobody expected anyone living in those dinky flats to actually cook. He'd come with the other Sons of Ferrix, as her dad had been a Son. Before they'd loaded her dad's body onto the decorated salvage sled, he'd offered her a moment alone, and she'd said no. Fuck. No and burst into tears.

He'd wrapped her up in his arms until she'd cried herself out, leaving skies only knew what on his shirt. She'd burrowed into his embrace for at least five minutes more beyond that before pulling away to blow her nose and wash her face.

A chilly gust set her shivering, and she squeezed in next to him on the tiny step. He shifted to make room for her, but they were still hip to hip, which she wasn't complaining about. "You're sure you're still warm enough?" she asked.

"Haven't been so warm since the summer." He smoothed his hand down over the coat she'd gotten him for Life Day - dark brown, sturdy, hard-wearing.

His red ceremonial coat, which he'd worn when they fled Ferrix, had stayed in the closet even as it got colder and colder, the bitter wind whipping off the sea. He wanted to keep it nice, he'd said, and added another layer on top of the several he was already wearing.

She'd saved up as much as she could from the fixes she did for the second-hand shop in town, and the "errands" they ran for the Rebels, and spent multiple afternoons sifting through the offerings at the second-hand shop until she found one big enough, thick enough, and with only some tears in the lining and tatters at the hems. She'd taken it to the repair shop to get those fixed.

She'd been prepared for a fight, as she didn't have the best reputation in town, and she was pretty sure she'd gotten in a fight with the shopkeep's son during one of her benders. But credits spoke every language, and the stone-faced woman had taken the order and haggled without obvious resentment.

"You're not half-bad when you're not drunk and mean," she'd said when they came to an agreement.

"I'm still mean," Bix said. "Just not drunk."

The woman had actually cracked a small smile at that. "I'll have the coat ready for your man before Life Day."

"He's not - we - we're just - " Bix had fallen into confused silence at the shopkeep's raised brow, and escaped when another customer came in. There'd been no more words about her man when she'd gone to pick it up, but she'd been self-conscious the whole time.

But it was a damn nice coat, and the repairs were almost invisible. She petted the heavy material with satisfaction.

When she looked up, she realized Brasso was studying her with furrowed brows. "What?" she said.

"Just noticed you weren't wearing your jewelry." He cleared his throat. "Not the last couple days."

She touched the edge of her ear. She had never felt completely dressed without some kind of jewelry on, mostly in her ears or braided into her hair because necklaces and rings were liable to get caught as she was making repairs.

He'd given her a set of ear cuffs for Life Day. She'd put them on immediately and he'd smiled and said, "There we are. Didn't seem right, Bix without some pretties on."

At the hotel, the ISB had taken all her jewelry off her before - well. Before. She hadn't had any since.

"Yeah, I took them off," she said. "They're inside, on top of my clothes chest."

"Saving them for special?"

"No, they just, uh, I needed to fix them."

He frowned. "Did they break?"

She gave in and admitted, "The metal made my ears itch, all right? But I'll get some varnish and paint the insides and I'll be wearing them every day again."

"Any kind of metal that doesn't make your ears itch?"

"Yeah, the kind that's too expensive for us right now." Which was why she hadn't said anything before. She nudged him. "Don't fret on it. I've had to do that with almost every piece of jewelry I ever owned."

"If you're sure," he said, still doubtful.

"I'm sure. I love them."

Another chilly gust snuck over the wall. A shudder racked him, swiftly suppressed.

"Brass, you are cold."

"I'm fine."

"I felt you shiver. Here." She opened her blanket and draped it over him. He didn't argue further, just tugged the other edge around himself.

Draped over two, it didn't quite cover them. But the warm bulk of Brasso's body made up for it. She tucked herself up close to him and slid her arm through his, fitting them together.

"Wouldn't mind some of that summer heat right about now," he said.

"What'd you do for Last Night a year ago?" she asked.

"Spent it with some of the lads from the yard. Aladon and Denz. At their place. It was nice."

"I spent it with Timm,” she admitted, like a shameful secret. “For the first time. See what that got me.”

He tilted his head down towards hers. "I think that's the first I've heard you talk about him," he said. "Not even since we left home. Since he died."

"Well, he wasn't the most popular person in Ferrix, once it got around he'd called the Imperials in on Cassian. And people were strange about talking about him in front of me. Either they thought I should be a grieving widow or they thought I should spit at the sound of his name."

"Which is it?"

"I don't know. Most of the time I just want him alive so's I can kick his ass. What an idiot."

"Won't argue that."

She looked down at her feet and kicked them in the dirt of the yard. "Do you think," she said, mostly to the dirt. "Do you think if I'd just managed to love him the way he wanted - "

"Then we wouldn't be here?" Brasso finished. "Mmm. Maybe."

She'd expected him to deny it, and shot him a betrayed look.

"Then again," he continued in the same tone of voice, "if Cassian Andor hadn't riled up the corpos like he did, they wouldn't have been after him in the first place, for Timm to turn in. And come to think of it, if Maarva and Clem hadn't taken it in their heads to adopt a half-grown boy from wherever it is they found him, he wouldn't have been on Morlana to rile up the corpos at all. And you know, if Naboo hadn't elected Sheev Palpatine Senator in the first place - "

"All right!" she said. "All right. I get it."

"And," he said more quietly, "if I'd been able to hold them off a little longer, they mightn't've caught you."

He sounded actually serious about that. How long he been stewing on it? She squeezed his arm. "Even you couldn't have held them off that long," she said. "And where would I have gone, anyway? There were too many of them. If I'm not to blame, you're not either."

"No," he said on a sigh. "No. The ones to blame are the Imperial Shithead Bastards."

"Yeah."

They were quiet together for several minutes.

"Don't feel bad about what you couldn't feel for Timm," he said in a low voice. “That's not really something you choose."

She sighed. She had a lot of regrets when it came to Timm. She'd taken advantage of his devotion, it was true. And she'd told herself that she'd made her own stance clear - just for fun, just to pass the time - when she knew full well he thought he could talk her into more. She shouldn't've let that go on. Look how it had ended. But -

"You're right," she said. "Even if I'd wanted to, I don't think I ever could've loved him. Not that way."

"My mum used to say hearts don't beat on command."

She swallowed hard, looking down at the dirt again, feeling her own heart - the one that had been so careless toward the man in her bed - soft and yearning toward the man at her side. "Be easier if they did."

He sighed heavily. "It would at that."

She cast about for a change away from dangerous subjects. "You don't talk about your mum much," she said.

"Well, she's been gone a long time. Near twenty years. You remember her?" he asked, almost hopefully.

She wished she could say yes. But if she did remember Brasso's mum, it was as another face in the formless mass of adults that most little kids saw. "I remember people talking about her."

"And what is it they said?"

Better'n that Jakin ever deserved. Ardeth is probably the reason Brasso turned out so good. "Just that you're a lot like her."

He smiled as if he could hear the things she wasn't saying, and they fell silent again.

"What time is it?" he asked after a while. "Can't tell without the moon."

"It said after two on the chrono when I woke up. So later than that. By a good hour, I’d guess. Maybe more.”

He sighed. "It's almost down at home."

The last moon of the year, a tiny sliver of a thing. Tradition said the old year ended when it set.

She nudged him. "Go on then. Sing it down, Brass."

It was a child's tradition, singing the last moon down, so he sang a child's song, soft and sweet. It was a lullaby that Ferrix parents sang to their babies, so there had never been a time Bix hadn't known it, and probably Brasso too.

He had a clear, unselfconscious tenor voice, and she rested her head on his shoulder and listened to the words for maybe the first time in her life.

It told of a bird in the depths of winter, in the ice and the cold, in the smoke of its breath and the chill of its toes. But the bird sang, defiant, promising the winter-frozen world that spring was closer than it had been at the start.

He finished the song and fell silent. She shut her eyes and sighed, picturing the last moon slipping down over the horizon, leaving them all together in the pause between years, before the first sun rose.

When it did, they would all rush out into the street if they weren't there already, shouting and cheering, blowing trumpets, banging drums. In the tower, the anvil sang out note after note of joy and greeting, until the Time Grappler's arms got too tired to go on. Superstition said the longer he could go, the better year it would be.

The adults kissed, at least those who had someone to kiss did, and the kids ran around screaming with the unhinged glee of kids who were so tired they couldn't see straight.

Then everyone went home and slept for most of the day.

The day after that, the salvage yard would reopen, the shop owners would put out their shutters, and normal life would resume.

But before all that came these breath-held hours of darkness.

"Bix," he murmured.

"Mmm."

"I know it's not sunrise yet. But I'd like to kiss you."

She lifted her head and opened her eyes, and he was looking at her very steadily.

She'd always thought his eyes were a dark grey, but this close, she could see green and even a touch of blue blossoming out from the pupil, like a common flower you never bothered with until someone you loved gave you a bouquet of them.

"I'd like you to kiss me," she said.

He lifted his hand to her cheek and closed his mouth over hers.

She'd kissed him once before, drunk and angry, and he'd stood there passive, like kissing a stone wall. She'd told herself afterwards, hungover and smarting, that she probably wasn't missing anything.

Oh, how wrong she'd been.

His lips brushed soft against hers, lifting away, returning. His beard-scruff scratched, and he tasted of pernil and a hint of that rotgut and something that seemed to be just him. His hand was warm on her cheek, and if she could have lived the rest of her life in this moment she would have.

His hand shifted, his fingers sinking into her hair, and a shiver went through her that had nothing to do with the cold.

She wanted to deepen the kiss, slide her tongue into his mouth, crawl into his lap, guide his hands into her shirt, grind down until she felt him harden under her -

And then what?

She turned her head, breaking contact.

A year ago, Timm had kissed like this, in this same between time, and she'd taken him into her bed.

See where that got her.

"Something wrong?" he whispered. His breath ghosted against her cheek.

"It was lovely, Brass," she said softly, smoothing her hand over his coat-front. "But you've been drinking, and we're both of us homesick, and we - we're both the nearest thing to Ferrix either of us've got right now. So I think we should stop. Before we do something we shouldn't."

His fingers were still in her hair. He let them fall, the motion tugging softly and pleasantly at her scalp. "You've good sense."

"Not always," she said ruefully.

He got to his feet, the blanket sliding off his shoulders.

She caught it, shivering with the loss of his body heat. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He looked down at her. "You should go inside. It's dreadful cold."

She got to her feet, slowly, trying to work out his expression in the darkness. Was he hurt? Upset? Annoyed? Relieved? "Are you coming in, too?"

He rubbed his hand over his face. "I think I should take a walk. Clear my head."

"Yeah, all right," she said. "Don't you freeze out there."

"Not with this coat on, I won't," he said, and detoured around to the side gate.

She went inside, hugging the blanket tighter around her, resisting the temptation to bury her face in its folds and try to catch a whiff of his scent. She told Bee that Brasso was fine, he'd just gone to get something they needed, and the little droid was wise enough not to ask what could possibly be needed so urgently that he went out in the wee hours for it.

She washed the dishes the pernil and the sweet rolls had been in, and pulled out the beans to set them soaking - something she'd forgotten before she fell asleep. She took down all the blankets and sheets they'd washed and hung up to dry, making the beds with scrupulous attention to smoothing out every tiny wrinkle.

In all that time, Brasso still didn't come back.

She sat cross-legged on her bed, brushing out the tangles in her hair, trying not to worry. He'd been fine. He hadn't really had that much to drink. And he knew better than to go down by the sea. Especially as his own dad had drowned.

When her hair was as tangle-free as she could possibly make it, she went to the table and pulled out her latest repair, a commlink with half its connections rusted out and needing replaced. It was barely worth doing, she thought as she trained her work-light on it. She wouldn't get much for it. Might be best to keep it for them, once she got a mate.

She tried not to worry. Or to think about the way his lips had felt on hers.

When the sky began to lighten, she put her tools away and went to sit on her bed again to watch it out the window. In the winter like this, the sun rose late. By her calculations, the new sun was well up on Ferrix. She sat listening to the silence where the anvil should be singing out notes of joy and luck and hope for the new year.

Finally, she saw his familiar form turn the corner, silhouetted against the delicate pre-dawn light, and let out a sigh of relief. Then apprehension. What were they going to do? Pretend it had never happened? Have an awkward conversation?

Kiss again?

No. She'd been right to stop them.

The door rattled, and his voice said indistinctly, "It's stuck again."

"Kriff," she said, jumping off her bed. Like everything else about this rented house, the door was old and half-functional, and the cold had made the lock especially stubborn lately. "Give me a moment - hah." The door slid open.

His cheeks were red with cold, but his eyes were clear. She looked up at him, and he looked away.

Oh. It was going to be like that.

But he said, "Hear that?"

"What?" She stepped out the door to join him in the street.

"There. Shh." He held up a hand, listening. After a moment, he turned his head to smile at her, and then she heard it too.

It was a bird.

A bird, alone, unseen, singing a high sweet song into the bitter air as the first edge of the new sun breached the horizon.

FINIS

#Bix Caleen #Brasso #brixo #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #Life Day story?#New Year's Eve story?#homesickness story?#who knows #andor #star wars

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crimsonblackrose · 6 months ago

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Eli's mom calling the school to complain about him being bullied every day. Such kudos to the actor for once again going into pre-hawk Eli

Do you think Eli has a little sibling?

So pretty sure people can't give kids tattoos without parental permission and Eii's parents don't know, even though he takes his shirt off at the competitions. So, do they just not come? Is he not worried about them checking social media? (because they did do research on Johnny so they do try and keep an eye on that stuff) or is he using his fake id or does Rico not care?

Also I did spot that oopsie. He threw his jacket onto his back in one shot and is carrying it in the next because you do not want to touch anything with a un-bandaged tattoo. Which, again, why aren't these tattoos getting proper care? And he just comes back every time he dyes his hair? Blue and now red.

Local tattoo parlor that tattoos teenagers without parental consent. (Maybe Eli forged his moms signature?)

Demetri is always the best person to have as canary to the dojo. He caught on super fast as to what Daniel is trying to teach him and why but also shows a lack of patience for it which pretty much everyone but Robby and Sam have expressed, including Anthony.

I'm not flexible and kinda suck at balance. Listen demetri you are in the right spot.

Can I at least use a roller? I will say I do love Demetri's hole poking at pretty much every karate studio in the valley. Also got a splinter. He just brings a good sense of reality.

First official job as a co-sensei, bring up Johnny's trauma but as a lesson so all the kids, not just Miguel know how to get out of a choke hold. Kudos to Johnny. Also probably one of the benefits of having two co-sensei's means not having to use Miguel for every example and lesson.

Johnny spends a season and a half trying to get Robby back, then Kreese knows he exists and spends the rest of the season trying to guilt Johnny about Robby. He knows, and also Robby doesn't need to be taught by Johnny. He doesn't need to be in karate if he doesn't want to. Let he kid be in soccer and skateboarding. But noo gotta make him a pawn.

Kreese shoving Johnny's all-in lesson back at him. Even though Johnny could've meant that for anything else. Go all in on this plate of nachos or owning a dojo.

Yasmine is in france.

I totally forgot that because Moon is dating Hawk that means Moon is now one of Aisha's friends, which is clearly very awkward. Also why is moon sitting with her and Tory at a 'girls table' rather than with Hawk?

They're at applebees again, the place Johnny can't go.

Demetri's yelp review: Where to begin? This establishment doesn't warrant the name. How they are still in business, I have no idea. The dojo employs very unprofessional sensei like they just picked someoneup off the street! (Kreese) He doesn't take into accoun the safety and personal boundaries of the students at all! Now, beyond that, the facility is in dire need of a major facelift (demetri give Johnny a break on this one it used to look so much worse and Miggy put so much ahrd work into it) I almost expected to see cockroaches running past the enterance. It may look badass on the outside, but this dojo leaves very much to be desired.

The complaint about Kreese is valid. The complaint about the place...I mean maybe but it's improved a lot and Demetri as one of the first round of big intakes should've noticed that, but he was too busy correcting Kreese's tattoo.

I also want to take into account that the cobra kai dojo is .4 miles away from applebees which maybe explains why this is the unofficial cobra hangout. That it's marked $$ which means moderately expensive and that this is either demetri's only review (doubt it) or the only yelp review for the dojo.

Demetri's username is DMan2002

Robby is ready to be dance battle partners with Sam, which is cute.

Is Demetri flirting with Sam? With the skin versus shirts? Who said you had to do the balance wheel with Sam? Why not Robby?

Giant rocks in the dojo. Gravel path through the grass, and it looks like the ko pond has moved. Really there isn't a lot of space here for students. Also is that a sharp metal border to the gravel path? These kids are barefoot 90% of the training.

Demetri: Johnny isn't a teacher he's can't give us a bad grade, we're paying him. Also Demetri: Here's a note from my mom excusing me from extensive arm and leg movement.

Demetri wants a workbook to learn karate, Daniel should dig out that book he was learning from in TKK1.

Again I love Demetri because again he shows that the ways Johnny and Daniel were taught don't work for everyone.

Demetri: My best friend is threatening me.

Daniel: I know what you're going through.

I know that was meant for Cobra Kai turning your world upside down, but still that's how it came off. 😂

Johnny trying in an person method again 6 months later with Robby's new board possibly board number 3 or 4

I love that he came baring a non-karate gift and one that Robby is actually into, because it shows he is somewhat aware of Robby's interests other than a photo of Robby as a soccer champ.

Apartment 3 with an eviction notice. I hope Robby got all his stuff out of there. Also want to point out this is a different hallway then before, the whiteboard is gone and the space where it might've been is also gone.

I can't believe that Shannon didn't contact Johnny again to be like hey I left my kid for...6 months alone? Just fyi please come pay our bills or pick him up. Because she's been gone six months right? Without a peep?

They have to vacate by July 31st. Which what about Robby and Shannon's things?

Johnny: Hey where'd my son go? (Daniel you were supposed to tell him months ago)

Shannons voice mail: Hey it's shan, talk some words. Maybe I'll call you back. Also the way he clicks on his phone doesn't look like he's picking a number from his contacts, he's physically dialing her number meaning he does have it memorized.

Robert Swayze Keene

Sam and Robby bonding over watching Dirty Dancing, Robby forced by his mom, Sam just loving it in general. Demetri prefers donnie darko (which uh...is a choice)

Wednesday, new issue of Dungeon Lord came out. I love that Demetri is ready to pick up anything they may want from the comic book store and must go do that asap but please keep his chicken.

Mall food court restaurants include Dantonio's pizza and wings and American Deli, neither of which explain Robby's burger.

Tory and her Applebee's brownie hot fudge sundae that she offers Miguel just the melted ice cream from. 😂

Miguel about ready to slam face first into a glass wall of not expecting Tory and Sam to know each other and already have beef. Both Cobra Kai and Miyagi do need like boards of relationships changed frequently for feuding purposes. He should've asked Moon instead. Ps I love Miguels' red and black hoodie and I want it.

Miguel is the cutest and should've sent it and not listened to Tory. His other creations in a similar vein, Sam loved those. But he doesn't know that Tory and Sam already met and don't get along.

Tory: that's so bad set your computer on fire.

Miguel after spending hours on this project and putting his heart into it in the most shocked heartbroken voice: It's that bad?

Between Tory and Johnny giving Miguel kinda shitty dating advice, he's lucky he's gotten a date.

Johnny parked in Daniel's spot:

Which Johnny, if you can park in his spot then he's not there. But this is also scared dad showing up to find out where the hell his son is and why Shannon's not answering the phone.

Random staffer at North Hollywood working with Anoush: Jason

This is the third LaRusso auto he's went to looking for Robby. I suppose Anoush doesn't know Robby is 16 and that's his dad. Robby did lie. Anoush probably should've been filled in that Robby is 16. He literally tells the father of a missing boy he can't tell the father where the missing boy is.

Johnny punches Anoush in the side after pinning him the hood of the car.

To be fair, Anoush thinks (as far as we know) Robby is over 18 and he shouldn't devuldge coworkers locations in a situation like this. On the other hand Robby lied and is not over 18 and is 16 and missing and it looks like you've kidnapped him and are holding him ransom as revenge for karate soap opera bullshit. (Does anyone ever explain the full situation to Anoush?)

So Robby is still working at Anoush's North Hollywood location. Which mean he is making some money. He's also living with Daniel which Daniel should've told Johnny.

And for how pissed and scared Johnny probably is, he really didn't rough up Anoush as badly as I remembered. Mostly just scared him and punched his side (which probably did really hurt)

but also the last person from LaRusso auto that interacted with Johnny sicced a motorcycle gang on him and burned his car down and tried to attack him with a bat and the last time Johnny saw Anoush he was with Louie Jr.

Dungeon Lord #1 of 5, costs $3.99. The return of the warlock narfoor. (Apparently he just died)

They should've played the Jaws them to Hawk's mohawk seen from the otherside of the comics

Demetri has Yelp Elite status, I don't know what that means. 😂 But I guess removing your reviews could ruin it?

Demetri nicknames the guys with Eli "Rocksteady and bebop" which is nicer nicknames then they got.

Eli seems to waver for a second when Demetri says his name. But then his reinforcements show up. Which, how did Eli know he'd be at this exact comic book store? Surely there's more than one in the Valley.

Chris being his sweetheart self. The Bobby of this group.

Demetri knocks over the sunglass holder but it's back up as soon as the cobras come past, that one staff member is fast.

Did this nerd color coordinate his shoes with his outfits?

Robby and Sam: When are we going to need to fight in a circle? Answer: When Cobra Kai/aka Hawk comes for Demetri and he can't fight well enough so you gotta protect the boy in the middle.

Robby kicks hawk in the face.

I would like to point out everyone standing around watching this fight are adults. No one did shit to stop this fight or protect these kids.

Once again proving that the general populace in the Valley are just here for the blood and the fights.

Will forever love the Sam and Robby kick ass and save Demetri and then hand Demetri his chicken that they saved for him.

So Johnny doesn't even try to confront Daniel. He just drinks and gets sad. Like he beats up Anoush in a panic to find his son but once he knows his son is somewhere safe he backs down. Which is super sad but also very telling.

Also he drinks a lot, but this is the first time we've seen him so drunk he just falls over because this one really hurt him. Thank goodness Carmen's there to be like oh boy you need some food and to not be alone.

I said Eli was a nerd for color coordinating, but Daniel did you buy Robby clothes to match you and the rest of your family?

Welcome to the LaRusso home, you get a new wardrobe, on Saturday's we wear blue with stripes. Literally says "glad you're part of this family"

Demetri and Daniel bonding over Game of Thrones. But then he has to be such an embarrassing dad:

Daniel: show me sand the floor, in this hard everything rock and stone and tile room right next to a table....again, maybe not the best spot.

Daniel finally learned he's gotta take it slower with Demetri. I'd like to also point out that Robby had Daniel micromanaging every task he did for who knows how long before revealing the lesson and Daniel did all the work on his own for weeks before cracking and demanding Mr. Miyagi explain himself. Demetri hasn't been in the dojo very long. He needs time.

Proud of Moon for chewing out Hawk. But also Moon: I like your hair and I like your muscles but I don't like your attitude. Which fair, but those are all things Hawk changed to become Hawk and didn't have as Eli.

I don't think it stuck that Moon broke up with Hawk over her bullying Demetri, which must be a little confusing since Moon was friends with Yasmine and hung out with bullies.

Congrats to Johnny for buying the equipment on his wish list

I'm pretty sure Kreese just slithers around the dojo looking for openings to take over and information to store away. And boy did he just find a weak spot. Hawk: I lost a fight to Miyagi-do. Kreese: the fight isn't over until you say it's over.

Kreese, how does that make sense huh?

I think Carmen made Johnny a grilled cheese sandwich and was just an ear to listen, which means there's a chance she learned that Daniel absconded with Robby. I suppose from Johnny's point of view it's totally possible that Shannon left Daniel with Robby, which might be why it hurts more. When in reality Shannon bailed and Daniel just swooped in. Amanda also deserves to be pissed.

Carmen is maybe the best person to talk to Johnny about this and how bad things just get worse and worse. Carmen didn't want Miguel to fight because her husband has a fighting cage match type thing with many many enemies. Carmen: Be the better man, rise above the rivalry.

Which he does try to do. So far it's been hitting anoush, a dick billboard, and upsurping Daniel at Vally fest. While Daniel's daughter has been in a hit and run related to Johnny. Fixed his car for free. His cousin set said car on fire with a motorcycle gang. Gave him a new car. Upped his rent and everyone elses's from the entire strip mall. Sent out a targeted advertisement. Tried to tell the all valley staff that Johnny is worse then Kreese, Silver and Barnes combined to ban Cobra Kai from the All Valley. Taught his son, hired his son, and adopted his son.

I'm surprised Carmen didn't tell Johnny. "Did this guy kidnap your son? Like why is he living with this guy?"

Tory uses old school vernacular "my girlfriend bartends at a place in Cahuenga." (Totally originally thought it was her actual girlfriend and not just female friend)

Every night at 10:36 in this abandoned play ground there's a flight that leaves that Tory likes. Last flight out of Burbank. Honestly I hope she gets to go somewhere on a fun trip on a flight out of California.

One of those moments where I'm like ah yes this is not filmed in LA:

Like it's summer and so hot that I don't even want to turn on the stove top and this girl is like yes let me turn on the fire place to roast a marshmallow. (Girl just microwave it) It's supposed to be summer and everyone's in hoodies and she's in a long sleeve shirt.

She calls them 'sam-mores', which is adorable and just like her father naming all his recipes.

Robby pulls away from the kiss first because his brain starts up and is like oh no if I kiss this girl and fuck up this relationship I'm homeless again. Which really is a sucky position he should never have been put in.

Cobra student damage: one spray painted x over the wooden dojo logo, there was also a light on which makes me wonder if Daniel just always leaves teh lights on or if he was there when this all happened.

Because of the spray paint dick, it being Johnny's fault would seem logical.

They t-p'd the trees, broke doors off the hinges. it also looks like they just dumped trash everywhere. Knocked over some bonsai, broke some pots, spray painted thier punching bag:

Did the cut that open and stuff it full of clothes or was that what it was made out of?

Interior mostly looks like they laid things over and knocked things over or took things down. Like they didn't break the paper screens. They just kinda unpluged the lamps and laid them on their sides away from the outlets.

Taking the medal of honor wasn't cool.

Dumbest choice Hawk could've ever made. He literally signed it.

Here's the thing though with this, Daniel literally owns a bunch of dealerships and does car repair all the time, yes this sucks but it's fixable. So far everything show except the missing medal of honor is repairable or not even broken. Just a mess.

And also Daniel's insurance should cover all the repairs and fixes.

On top of that, unlike with when TKK3 happened, Daniel shared Mr. Miyagi's house location with the Valley by making it a place of business. Other than the theft most all of it is common high school mischief night pranks. They didn't destroy the doors they removed from the hinges. They didn't break a lot of glass. They stole 1 thing and then did a bunch of vandalism and it's mostly toilet paper and trash.

I don't think this was what Kreese meant either when he said to continue the fight.

And really Johnny has an alibi, he was crying on Carmen's couch.

Like you don't know? (He doesn't) Daniel's shoes on the mat is disrespectful.

Johnny doesn't say he didn't slug Anoush.

Daniel drove the car there, why didn't he show Johnny the car? Like to everyone not involved it looks like Daniel just ran in wild and started accusing Johnny without proof. But the car is literally signed. And with how much Johnny cared about his own car he would for sure care about what happened to Daniel's.

Chris says he never liked it there, but to be fair I think it's not necessarily Johnny but Hawk and how the cobras have become. I do wonder though why so many students left if they didn't know what happened. Because it should look like Johnny didn't do anything. Unless Hawk's been sort of bullying them too. The loss of those students are on Hawk's actions and Hawk using all the new students as lackeys.

Like Johnny tried to reign Hawk in but Kreese just added fuel to the fire and because Johnny didn't have the same heart to hearts he did with Miguel with Hawk, Hawk never got the same reasons as to why he needed to not be a bully and be sportsmanlike.

But kind of like how demetri is a canary in a dojo coal mine, Moon breaking up with Eli should've been eye opening, especially the "i don't date bullies" after he'd been bullied.

I suppose his thought was Demetri trashed our dojo on yelp so we'll physically trash his dojo.

#mumbling about shows

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atlantaartisticweddings · 8 months ago

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Atlanta Botanical Gardens and Piedmont Park two Atlanta Landmarks for Wonderful Engagement Photos

This week’s blog is Marco and Paola’s engagement session. They contacted me nearly a year ago via Instagram. As an Atlanta wedding photographer I am finding out a lot of people are finding out about Atlanta Artistic Weddings through our Instagram social media posts. We also finding bride and grooms are finding us from Google and our over 100 positive reviews and the Knot.

Paola is a big fan of flowers and plants so they suggested the Atlanta Botanical Gardens. I checked their website and saw where they did not open until 10am. I am a big fan of the morning light so I suggested that we start at Piedmont Park at 8am. That way we can get that golden morning light and a few more photo locations before Atlanta Botanical Gardens opens. They agreed and we met there early Sunday morning just after sunrise.

Paola arrived in a classic black dress and Marco wore matching black pants with a short sleeved black shirt. Together they made a dazzling couple. We started walking around the park and as I usually do I would stop where I would find the best light for that time of day. We went to the edge of the soccer field for a stunning Atlanta skyline. We then moved on to the lake in the middle of the park where they have a large pier and reception area with large corinthian columns great for posing against.

While we were moseying around the park I got to do my favorite thing. I got to know the couple before the wedding. The more time we walked around the park the more they shared. I got to know more about their kids Marco’s 5 grown kids and Paola’s 2 kids. I learned that Marco arrived here from Puerto Rico. We even spent time in some of the same towns there. I also noticed how kind and thoughtful Paola was. She is a fun and playful person who is ready for adventure. Their personalities complement each other beautifully.

Once we had almost gone around the lake at Piedmont Park it was 10am and Atlanta Botanical Gardens was opening. Paola and Marco went to their car and changed into new outfits. Once changed we headed up to the top of the hill above the park to the Atlanta Botanical Gardens. It was a beautiful spring morning. There were several beds of flowers starting to bloom. The reds and violets of the flowers made for a colorful and lively photo session. We traveled around the fountain, the oriental garden, the walkway and into the greenhouse where they have desert and rainforest plants. That is where we wrapped up the engagement session.

Congrats to Marco and Paola! It was a real joy to spend a Sunday morning with you two and getting to know two special people better. We are looking forward to the wedding.

Thanks for checking out this Atlanta wedding photographers blog! I hope you enjoyed the read and found it interesting! Make sure you keep coming back to our blog to see what the Atlanta wedding photographers at Atlanta Artistic Weddings get up to! If you’d like to contact me go to the contact page and drop me a line at https://www.atlantaartisticweddings.com/contact-atlanta-wedding-photographer. I would love to hear from you!

Thanks again!

Source: https://www.atlantaartisticweddings.com/

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castle-dominion · 2 years ago

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c3x15 the final nail

At least the dog said “hey help, mom is dead” but wow those nails are brutal!

This is season 3. I can’t tell if s1 & s2 took place over one year or two, esp since s1 was short & at the end of s2 castle retired for the summer. Then he returned in s3. So yes, yes Ryan has already had a valentine’s day with Jenny. JE: Lanie doesn’t care for that kind of stuff KR: kha, all women care. Beckett! You & Josh, u got big plans for valentine’s day, right? KB: Josh is a surgeon, I’m a cop. In the unlikely event that we have a couple hours free on monday night we might go to dinner. JE: See?

(the boys just talking in there lol)

KB: Hey castle, it’s beckett, call me when you get this. JE: Ooh, castle is going to be sorry he missed this. KB: Why? JE: Society murders! Rich people are always the freakiest.

Outfits are great. We have Beckett in her casual fancy outfit as usual, double breasted which is always nice; ryan with a black shirt, dark blue+black striped tie which we have seen before, & possibly a scarf there, nice grey jacket; then esposito with his fashionable dark green felted coat, grey scarf, looks like a jacket, & then another shirt. Layers. This man must be bisexual or trans to like all those layers.

I like this gal explaining the scene.

See? I told you. freaky. (beckett likes the weird ones)

The types. Esposito talks to gang cops & ryan talks to the people. (sito used to be on gang squad) When did the ME leave? Castle!? Why does this guy need to have a friend who is in with the nypd? Castle that promise is not yours to make. Ricky shut it. You can say to him “she just needs to ask” & undermine her authority In Private. Not in front of the vic’s husband. Good to let them know personally.

Yo castle! He sounds so happy to see castle. Hey you made it! What were those looks between beckett & esposito? RC: & I’m just speculating, maybe has some experience with nail guns?!!!

I love the way esposito pronounces his own name Esposito needs some hair btw. & today he is wearing what seems to be a darker green felt suit coat but it may be the lighting & it may be the same coat as last night. Then he is wearing a suit jacket underneath his coat, which (through the captions) I initially assumed was a vest. Ryan has what looks like a double breasted coat & then a sweater. His dress shirt is ugly tho. Dang that’s an expensive ring! Why would you get a piece of jewelry if you are not going to wear it? He’d be a millworker then, a cabinetmaker. Love a good trade.

These two literally just got here (btw ryan in fact does have a suit jacket underneath his coat) why are they putting Back On their coats? (Wait the inside of esposito’s jacket it blue! Oh now that’s nice! Sorry I apparently love costume design. I used to be really into musical scores but I’m going deaf & TV typically doesn’t have scores the same as movies. Then I was into camerawork for a while, being a DP seemed interesting.) (also uh twin moments puttin gon their coats) Castle idk why you decided to jump to the conclusion that their discomfort with you was bc it sounded dirty. They just stole the coffees of beckett & castle!! & then you see esposito take a sip & ryan lift it to his mouth before trading in the background. Great detail.

She cry-- She cried? I see beckett’s slavic language skills & social mirroring are still a thing.

He is the reason Rick started writing. That & james bond.

That sounds relevant to the investigation castle. Also man got a vacation home in puerto rico? Dang I hate rich colonizers.

Suddenly castle’s unshakable faith must not be so unshakable.

Or maybe not. Wow this is a shouting match. Castle shut it. (looking thru the glass I can see ryan standing watching, talking with esposito. then they cut to him walking up) Oh wait Ryan is wearing jeans with his outfit. That’s a good note. KR: What’s going on? JE: Mom & Dad are fighting. (XD mom & dad) KR: Who’s winning? JE: *turns around to look at ryan instead of the fight* KR: *shrugs* Interesting framing. They usually have Ryan sitting while Esposito stands. This time it’s the other way around. Both just pick up the phone & fake conversations XD WAIT DID YOU SEE RYAN PICK UP THE PIECE OF PAPER THEN FLIP IT BC IT WAS UPSIDE DOWN & then esposito looks so soft for her... (the actors play it as if especkett have some history) btw ryan says “thanks bill” to his phone, he mentions in a later season that he usually talks to bill “over there” continuity <3

Castle’s ^-^ face.

I mean it would have surely been good for the kids. Is it more likely that he is not involved in both, is it more likely he is involved in both, or is it more likely is is involved in one not the other? If the latter, which one? Rank them.

Good of him to apologize

*when his father was murdered. & also that money is gone. What is a tennis bracelet? Why do ppl like them & why are they cher? She’s right castle. Oh outfit update! Becket looks pretty as normal, castle is dressed the way he usually is, ryan looks good except for the tie, & esposito is wearing.. a hoodie? RC: Alright! Let’s go get this guy, huh? *slaps file back into esposito’s chest* JE: *looks at beckett confused & possibly angry* KR: *Looks at beckett with puppydog eyes* KB: Ok, go. I got it. KR, short & strained: Thank you! *As he runs off* (won’t clip)

I love castle stuck in the back of the car Don’t u guys usually have one go around the other side in case he runs? Oh & there he goes on the truck. Good for him! Yo look at esposito running faster than the truck (it is still speeding up & in a small area) But why doesn’t one of them go get the car in case of a car chase?

woah that’s weird. U can just get a gun pulled on you in the usa. People should go back to the old fashioned way of fighting: fists & feet. Oh hey I just noticed castle is in the interview room with espt & ryan is not in the room. Hun don’t say “If I were him I’d have killed her too just to shut her up” like my dude that is Not something you want to say. Ever. That’s why it was so weird to me when beckett told castle “I’m going to kill you” literally while on the phone with her boss

Castle HAS done an interview with esposito

RC: Yes but JE: ihyi! *holds up hand* Mum said you tell ppl to have a good game even if you are mad. Idk how much I believe her tho bc I have siblings. KR: .. What’s in a playroom? RC: Not much more than a bed... (All three look at rick) RC: Yes I’m a member Girl you what

Confidentiality!!! Why did she come with them? She wasn’t arrested so did she request that they do this away from her place of work? How did the wife figure out that it was the desk lady specifically? That’s sus of him. That’s valid That’s also sus of him.

You don’t know him either castle. Wow beckett that’s harsh but actually not harsh & she is very good for the soft explanation Wow that’s a story. Interesting & fluid change between he pronouns & you pronouns

I love alexis & martha.

They’ve had this conversation before. You should have told me.

Ok so since the captions are missing the spanish, I’ve put on the spanish sub. AH FRICK IT ISN’T CAPTIONING THE SPANISH BECAUSE IT ASSUMES I’M A HEARING PERSON, BRO I AM NOT PUTTING ON CAPTIONS BECAUSE I DON’T SPEAK THE LANGUAGE I AM PUTTING ON CAPTIONS BECAUSE I’M FRICKING DEAF. The french captions also do not have it written. I thought I might as well try. Ok it goes smth like this, but again I’m hoh & have audio processing issues, I also don’t speak spanish but I have romance language experience & google translate JE: hola, que haces siendo aqui? - hi, what are you doing, being here? Blanca: Este loco [...] (I actually can’t tell, my ears are not good enough, my spanish is not good enough, & anything I put into google translate is wrong.) - This madman (idk) JE: Ah, Lo siento. Buena suerte. - Ah, I’m sorry. Good luck. RC, not realizing they just laughed about how crazy & annoying he is: Yeah. I don’t know what...

Edit: hola que estas haciendo aqui este loco me hizo venir con el // MADE ME COME WITH HIM lo siento buena suerte

Good that the first thing he does is acknowledge that they were right

Castle out here solving decades-old murders, huh

Heartfelt yet humorous!

AC: Dad, that case is older than me. & then she helps him with it, regular little detective!

Meh white sapphires are better than diamonds & ugh hearing him say silicon carbide, “silicon carbide is the hardest common abrasive grain, measuring 9.5 on the Mohs scale of hardness, very close to that of diamond.” It is found naturally as Moissanite & honestly looks better than diamond in some ways. Sorry I just really really love minerals & rocks. Silicon carbide is generally made in labs tho. White sapphires are actually more different to diamonds than silicon carbids & diamonds’ differences. White sapphires are still top notch tho. & tbh quartz, which is silicon dioxide, has a better structure to it imo. Hexagons are some of my fave shapes. & I mean quartz is still what a 7 on the moh’s scale of hardness? A lab grown quartz is better than any old rhinestone. Oh my goodness I’ve just realized how much time I spent reading & writing about this. Rocks are just so good.

But richard castle believes in you & I believe in him. Yes you have damien.

Love <3. Rutherford scholarship?

KB: Guys, I hate admitting it, but castle might be right Oh & outfit update: Ryan is not wearing a tie with his cute sweater & esposito looks good in purple; purple shirt, purple tie. Beckett has a cute pink shirt.

KR: So, what did you decide about Lanie & Valentine's Day? JE: Oh. I'm gonna play it safe and show up with a gift. KR: Hm. JE: I found this little jewelry store that sells stuff, you know, that.. girlfriends like. (xd stuff that girlfriends like.) Necklaces, charm bracelets. What about you? What are you gonna do? KR: Oh, Jenny loves chocolate. *nods* JE: Jenny's planning her wedding. JE: Your girl's on a diet and you're gonna give her chocolate? (he’s right)

That was weird tho. JE: Thought so. (to ryan) Let’s bring em both in.

Ah, very casual huh. Why would she say that tho? It incriminated her. Jolene! I’m begging of you please don’t take my man!

Kismet. Destiny, fate? Man’s got a nice shirt.

No, No... He still has the map? Oh no, no this is so sad, no DX DX DX But hey Salazar is here again so that’s neat!

KB: "Show me a hero and I'll write you a tragedy." F. Scott Fitzgerald said that. RC: It must have been Ernest Hemmingway who said, "Man, I sure could use a drink right about now." [...] KB: U ok? RC: Yeah, I'm fine. KB, hitting him gently with her elbow: Liar

got all my clips. I actually rewatched this one & separated mustard/pennycress seeds at the same time

#castle 3x15 #castle 3x15 spoilers #castle 3x15 quote

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crowned-ladybug · 5 years ago

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the more i try to design Book, the more they look like a Soft Nerd, so i guess it must be quite the surprise to realise they could also like. break you in half. if they wanted to (which they mostly don’t, so just don’t go into figuring out how to piss them off and you’ll be good)

#so far they have fuzzy moth antennae (also horns) and a big tacky scarf and possibly a big shirt/sweater #with v loose sleeves #which i guess would do a p good job of hiding all that muscle huh #id say keeping rico under control would require a lot of muscle but to be fair. rico has a Lot of upper body strength #so they could just break books nose anyway if they wanted to #which they never do btw even before they become friends #kata's chatter #oc: book

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cadenza-damour · 2 years ago

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Go With The Flow

Summary : Petra couldn’t procure painkillers at this time of the month. Luckily, she had a wonderful Captain who knew another method to get rid of cramps.

Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Petra Ral, Rico Brzenska/Nifa (implied), Erwin Smith/Miche Zacharias (implied)

Rating : M

Word count: 2,678

Tags: mutual masturbation, blood kink, period sex, period jokes, they’re terrible, i’m sorry, fem!levi, established rivetra, also nifa and petra are cousins, it's canon

Notes: Thank you @captain-natey for inspiring me. I had a lot of fun writing this! 😘

•••

She should have seen it coming.

Petra was lying on her side, hugging her knees and tucking her head down towards her chest to curl up as small as a mouse. She'd been resting in this fetal position for over an hour and she wouldn't move a muscle for anything in the world.

Hell, she knew better than that.

Forgetting that her period was coming and to restock her painkillers? Highly unlike her for sure.

Even so, the truth remained : all she ever wanted to do was make sure that everything went perfect for today's party, therefore it should not have been unexpected that anything else had deplorably slipped her mind.

It was all worth it.

Petra found herself unable to hold back a smile at that thought, slumber welcoming the young woman in its warm embrace when she got awakened by two knocks on the door.

“Oi, Petra. Is everything alright? Why don't you come back downstairs with everyone?” a slightly muffled voice from outside her room enquired.

She rubbed her eyes and half-buried her face in a pillow for a few seconds before mustering up the strength to get out of bed and unlock the door. As she did so, Petra internally cursed at the fact that she had her painters in on this very special day. And by all means, her Captain's birthday !

She thoroughly cursed at the fact that she was a woman.

“I'm so sorry, Levi but I don't think I'll be able to make it back -" Petra tried her best to not sound feeble and much to her dismay, she felt incapable of giving any further explanation, the dolorous urge to return to bed taking over as soon as the door hung open to let her Captain in. Pain throbbing horribly in her lower abdomen, words stuck in her throat.

Right now, Petra just thought how regrettable that among all people on Earth, it had to be Levi who saw her in this miserable state.

—

She approached the ginger woman resting on the bed, gray eyes gazing into Petra's amber orbs.

Under the flickering light from the candle nearby, the first thing Levi noticed was the grogginess in Petra's expression as the Captain could tell her subordinate had fallen asleep earlier.

Levi felt bad for waking her up, fully aware that Petra gave her all for this birthday party - rather a shitty excuse to make a big and loud mess for the Captain to clean later. Everyone down there in the mess hall would be boozed to the point of considering cleaning the least of their concerns at the end of the day. Tch.

Trying in vain to control the pain radiating down her stomach, and perhaps a bit of her heartbeat, Petra inhaled through her nose. "Levi, I-I'm sorry." Before exhaling through her mouth. "I can't get up."

"But why?" Levi asked as she closed the distance between them. One hand supporting Petra's chin, she insisted, "What's wrong? You just disappeared to your room without telling anyone."

She knew Petra was tougher than that. A blow of fatigue definitely wouldn't have one of humanity's strongest look like a fragile little thing that might break anytime.

Petra looked away before her eyes started to linger on what this nearly nonexistent gap between them was revealing. Lying on her side, Levi's overly ostentatious chest up above the neckline of her tight shirt.

"I-I'm on my period." she responded, her jaw clenching in pain.

A silence settled in.

A silence that Petra felt forced to fill.

"And I forgot to restock my painkillers."

Faced with this ever-expanding silence, she stole a glance at Levi.

The latter continued to stare at her. Whereas Petra had expected to find a sympathetic expression on her lover's face, she only heard her pose this question in a casual tone.

"Have you tried getting yourself off?"

Petra almost choked.

"Excuse me, Captain?"

"That's the only thing that works for me. An orgasm, and you can say goodbye to your cramps."

Petra shook her head, more embarrassed than ever. "Uhh- no." Her cheeks flushed. "I can't, I–" And the admittance made her feel like she was about to jump off Wall Rose without her ODM gear. "I have never-

"Had an orgasm?" Levi cut her off as she raised one eyebrow, smirking slightly.

"Yes but-" Petra tried to clarify in her confused speech, "Not alone. With you of course but I mean, I've never…" She hoped the ground would swallow her. "I've never done that before."

Levi's usual stony facade broke, her eyes widening in shock.

"Petra, you own the finest thing the Universe has ever created between your legs, and you're telling me you've never played with it?"

In response, Petra shook her head again.

She was jerked back into memories of playing Truth or Dare with her cousin Nifa in the dorm the both of them shared back in the days when they'd been new recruits in the Survey Corps. Petra had dared Nifa to ask Rico out – the Garrison soldier she was aware her cousin was attracted to but never made a move to face her feelings. Nifa swore to her that she wasn't going to let it slide and it wonderfully checked out since Petra naively used to think of herself as an open book, somehow gauging that she was playing it safe by choosing Truth :

"Who do you usually jerk off over?" Nifa had asked, a devilish grin plastered on her face.

Albeit the nature of that question itself was mortifying, another sense of self-consciousness hit Petra as it occurred to her that she had never… Well, her cousin just froze on the spot, trying to process the information.

“Wow!"

And then, Nifa explained to her in the staidest manners possible that there was no better way to get to know your own body. She was probably right, but as a matter of fact, Petra has simply never felt the need to explore hers.

She needed something else. She craved the warmth that only a partner could provide.

Levi watched her, a subtle teasing smile tugging at her lips which brought Petra out of her reverie; just before the subordinate averted her eyes, like every time she felt perused under her superior's piercing gaze, the Captain suggested, "Let me help you."

Petra felt her heart race. "Help me?" she echoed like a broken record. "But, help me for what?"

"I'd rather stay here to help you relieve your pain." Levi replied.

And Petra avoided eye contact, muttering something about being gross. That she was filthy and bleeding all because she was not a man so that's when the Captain interrupted her before she could keep badmouthing herself furthermore. Levi didn’t tolerate her badmouthing herself in any way. A weak smile appeared on the subordinate's face.

"But… Captain, it's your birthday and everyone in the mess hall is probably waiting for you. Don't worry about me. I'll be just fine on my own."

Levi sighed.

"Hans and all the Squads are already shit-faced and not a single word they're all saying makes sense. Miche and Erwin were playing hanky-panky with each other all along the party. They left it together a few minutes ago or so." She gently stroked Petra's cheek, reveling in the touch of her soft skin. "I don't feel like leaving you here all alone. Just let me guide you."

"Guide you," the Captain repeated, "Or… show you-," and Petra's previous deflated expression suddenly became intrigued.

Levi rolled onto her back, a firm determination in her eyes. "Show you how I do it." Her words trailed off, stuck in the thin space between them; as if they knew the subordinate needed a moment to fathom the situation.

—

She was dreaming. It couldn't be real.

Blood was filthy. Captain Levi didn't want this.

A lucid dream? There was no other explanation. The pain made her delirious.

And yet, of their own accord, those words passed the barrier of her lips as she found herself nodding. "Please. Show me how, Captain."

It seemed like she forgot the pain immediately. Levi smirked again.

"Lie down on your back, and mirror my movements."

Petra obeyed her without further delay. Laid back, spreading her legs which she'd been holding the whole time against her chest - and her eyes locked with Levi's.

The Captain took off her white trousers, uncovering a simple piece of black lace.

For Petra, it was a new process of making her own body's acquaintance. Up until now, she'd always trusted someone else to guide them both to the discovery. It was finally time to find it out on her own.

With a resolute grip of her hand, she lifted her nightdress; she'd managed to change her clothes before turning in, although the cramps had almost made her collapse right away on her bed. In contrast to Levi's lace, Petra had settled on the comfort of cotton for this evening after she'd trudged to the bathroom for a shower.

"I haven't really planned on—

"Stop. It looks good on you." Levi butted in with a click of her tongue.

A thin smile tugged at Petra's lips, but instantly a new cramp tensed her features and brought Levi back to her mission.

"If you have to hurry, only one finger will do. You can get it wet like… " Levi took her forefinger between her lips, leaving her sentence unfinished.

As Petra bit hers, she realized with fascination how easily Levi's entire being exhibited seduction. In everything she did: Her odd way of grabbing the teacup you handed her. In her way of sipping her tea while peering at you. Or when she took her handkerchief nonchalantly to wipe off the corner of her mouth as you considered turning away from her lips.

Or right now, in her way of swirling her tongue around her finger and sucking at it.

In her way of getting it out of her mouth just as delicately.

"…But you don't need that," she resumed. "Blood already makes a good lube."

Levi's wet finger disappeared beneath the lace, and a first sigh escaped her lips.

"Then, you stroke your folds lightly. It stimulates the wetness but again, use your blood."

It was extremely odd to behold her clinical disposition regarding the matter. Baffling but also liberating.

She slid a hand underneath her own underwear, not taking her gaze from Levi.

"Good," the latter whispered to her. "When you're wet enough, move your fingers up your clit and… rub it—" A first moan passed her lips. "— gently, first… From bottom to top."

Petra followed suit, diving in her own folds, caressing her sensitive bud and allowing her mind to visualize Levi's fingers instead of her own. Blood was leaking from her crotch, mingling with her arousal.

"Now, you adjust the pace to your liking." The Captain pursued.

"You mean it like I just have to go with the flow?"

"Was that a joke, Ral?"

Petra's lips curled into a grin, both of their breaths becoming shorter.

"Jokes about menstruation are surely not funny. Period."

It was brief, but she could swear she saw the slightest smile on Levi's lips.

"Spread your legs, Petra. That's—" Levi's voice caught in her throat as she let out a second moan. "-even better," she ended in a whisper.

She did her best, carrying out the order until their knees touched. A brief contact, but enough to make a shiver run through her from all sides.

The pain in her lower abdomen faded and surrendered to a whole newly found tension.

"L-Levi, I'm—"

"M—me too. Keep going," she told her. "Add a second one… and accelerate the pace." With those few words, Petra felt Levi's other hand land on her thigh. With her fingertips, the Captain drew small arcs on her skin. "Just like this."

Petra mimicked her moves. Their fingers danced, matching each other the same way their groans and moans did.

Levi arched her back and bit her lip, always preferring to hold back the loud gasps rising within her even though the noises downstairs would cover up. At this sight, Petra was certainly ready to be awash by the threatening wave of pleasure.

The Captain also often bit her subordinate's lips when they kissed. One of those things that Petra liked and has come to realize just now. Only a light pressure of her teeth on her lower lip while she grabbed her neck and gripped her waist.

She didn't know if she could resist the temptation to ask for more. Her eyelids shut down.

"No, Petra. Look at me."

An order almost as much as a request.

"Look at me."

Petra opened her eyes to an indescribable glow in her lover's stare.

As if reading her mind, the arcs on her skin stopped and she felt Levi's hand slide up her thigh.

"Ahhhh–"

The Captain's fingers traveled with hers, following the dance that the subordinate had started in her bundle of nerves. But at her touch, each caress against her clit became explosive.

Still locked in hers, Levi's stare consumed Petra. There was something in her eyes. Somewhat reminiscent of the glowing light in her gray irises as she slayed up Titans on the battlefield. A burning desire. Animal and primitive.

She had never looked at anyone else like this.

Petra felt her end was near. Pleasure flooded every inch of her skin, every bone, nerve and atom.

Levi's fondlings became more erratic. Her pupils dilated, climax also prevailing on her side.

They came in unison, lost in each other.

When the last wave of pleasure swept away the few remnants of them, Petra's devoted lips crashed down on hers and Levi kissed her back in the same zealous manner, tongues and fingers intertwined.

Breathlessly, their lips parted.

They looked up at each other with half-lidded eyes, the sound of their breathing filling the room. Captain and subordinate lay spent and flushed against the sheets.

As the seconds ticked by, concern hit Petra. This was all just a dream?

"Does it still hurt?"

The question brought her back to reality. She'd almost forgotten the reason why they'd started this in the first place.

Petra parted her lips to tell her that the pain was gone, that it was probably gone for good, but Levi's gaze silenced her.

She seemed to expect her answer with apprehension, but not the one she'd thought of.

Petra's fingers trembled and immediately Levi tightened her grip. On instinct, perhaps. Or for the fear of seeing them go.

"If I say it does," Petra whispered to her. "Can we start over?"

Levi frowned imperceptibly. Doubt overfilled her expression, as did the fear of disappointing Petra. "Is this what you really want?"

Entwining their legs, Petra also tightened her fingers around hers.

She gave her assent. Not mechanically this time, but with all possible intentions. Whether it was a dream or not, she needed her, wanted her now. The corner of Levi's lips unnoticeably turned up in satisfaction.

"Let me love you, tonight.” The Captain breathed, her mouth ravishing her neck, her jaw, her cheek.

"Please, I'm all yours." Petra gasped tenderly as she cupped Levi's breasts. She'd been waiting to do this since her Captain came next to her in the bedroom that evening.

Levi ran a thumb on the outline of her lips. "You got lipstick on your mouth."

Petra beamed. "And does it look good on me?"

She seemed to contemplate her answer for a moment, and just before she moved closer to claim her lips again, she murmured, "Even better than I thought."

Around them, the air was thick, damp, and full of promises.

"You really didn't have to pull out all the stops today." Levi susurrated.

"I didn't have to. I wanted it."

And Levi laid down on top of her, long hair falling like jet curtains around her face, kissing her passionately.

"Thank you."

Petra shivered as her tongue stroked hers again. The Captain was formidable with that tongue. She let her lover feel her smile against her mouth.

"Happy birthday, Levi."

•••

Ending notes : It's my first time posting nsfw here. I tried to not make it come across too awkward, but honestly idk lol.

#rivetra

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starstruckkittensweets · 3 years ago

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“Kisses in the Morning Rain” Pt. I

Fandom: Attack on Titan Pairing: Eren x Reader Words: 5.1k

Warnings: Season 4 spoilers, canon divergence, alcohol consumption (and the effects afterwards), Reader is a Titan Shifter, open discrimination against Eldians and Paradis, acceptance of death, blood and violence, references to depression, mentions of past romantic feelings, Reader is conflicted but tries not to show it

A/N: This idea has been floating around in the back of my mind since October of last year when I made this post, but I didn’t get around to writing it out until earlier this month. So I’m guessing this can be my first official fic of 2022? (Not counting my Levi/OC story’s most recent chapters.) I realized early on that I wanted to write so much of it, so it wouldn’t fit into a single lonesome fic but rather a multi-chapter one instead. But I’m proud of this fic, and I’m glad I have most of it planned out already, I just have to actually write it! Also tagging the always lovely @flamingblinglove for encouraging me and asking me to tag her when I finally posted it! Also big thanks to @unadulteratedtreecrusade, @therealvalkyrie and @icecreamranwich (if you guys remember from way back when), when you fed into that random idea I had all those months ago about Reader being the War Hammer Titan and encouraged me to continue with it! Without you all, this little fic (and the upcoming parts) would not exist in the first place. With that said, I hope you guys enjoy!

“Kisses in the Morning Rain” Masterlist

It’s raining again.

Not too much, just a light drizzle. Enough to make children giggle and their parents sigh in annoyance. You know the feeling all too well—of splashing in puddles as a child, and later grimacing at the droplets as an adult. Especially now; the sight of rain doesn’t sit well with you anymore.

You clear your throat, placing both hands on the railing of the balcony before you. The scent of morning air is strong, reminding you of fresh roses and singing birds. For a brief moment, it doesn’t even feel like you’re in Marley—Liberio, to be exact. Instead, you’re back in a place you only know in your memories, a place of bloodshed and violence—a place you once loved with all your heart.

Stop it, you scold yourself, shaking your head. No more of that. Not now.

No need to dwell on the past. Nothing good will come of it.

The sound of your name brings you out of your daze with a jolt. You turn your head, and a smile makes its way to your face when you recognize the gentle face of Fine, your younger cousin. Hanging off her arm is Alois, the youngest boy of the family, who urges her to follow him and play. But Fine keeps her eyes on you, stretching out her other hand.

“Come on,” she says with a smile, “Father wants to see you.”

Of course he does. But you put on a brave smile and take her hand, allowing her to lead you off of the balcony and into the mansion.

It’s been a few days since you arrived in Liberio. As head of the Tybur family, and the ruling family of the nation of Marley, Fine’s father is expected to make a speech at the upcoming festival, addressing prominent world leaders of countries around the world. The topic is classified to the rest of the nation, especially for those in Liberio—but it remains fresh in your mind, always at the forefront.

The rest of the children are roughhousing in the playroom. Fine shrieks and rushes over to them, with Alois still clinging to her other arm. Rico and Bruno topple over one another, while Gerta tugs at both of their shirts by the hems.

“Come on, don’t be like that!” She manages to wrestle Bruno from his twin, just as Alois begins swatting at Gerta. “Oh, stop it! I told you to be on your best behavior today!”

You can only offer a gentle smile in Fine’s direction, as you continue toward the hallway without her. She’s always taken on the burden of responsibility in her family; you suppose it comes with being the eldest child. You’re sure you would act the same way if you had siblings of your own.

The guards of the Tybur family are stationed along the gilded hallways, with two soldiers standing outside every door. Most of them stare straight ahead as you pass them by, but some of the newer, younger ones give you a sweet smile. It’s comforting, knowing not all of them see you as just an extension of your family’s power.

But you’ve grown used to it at this point. Most people only see you for the title you carry over your head, whether it be Tybur or Eldian. To the nobility of the world, the name Tybur brings hope and security. To the warriors among the streets of Marley, the name Eldian makes them scowl and wish you dead. Some of them excuse you for carrying the name Tybur; however, some of them aren’t able to look past that, and they condemn you with all the rest.

And after all you’ve done, you can’t say you blame them one bit.

Your uncle is waiting for you in the parlor of the mansion. Seated on the sofa facing the hearth, with his back to the door. A dangerous way for someone to hold themselves, with little regard to what’s happening behind them. But your uncle is a cunning man, well aware of everything going on around him.

He greets you with a smile, but you can tell it’s forced. He motions to the armchair adjacent to the sofa, and you take a seat at once, smoothing the skirt of your dress with your palms. At his subtle nod, the two guards stationed at the door bow their heads and slip out of the room, locking the door behind them.

“How are you feeling?”

You clear your throat, bunching your fists in your lap. “Well enough.”

He quirks an eyebrow, and you know instantly he can tell you’re lying. He’s been able to read you since the day you were born, ever since his sister held you out to him, swaddled in a mess of blankets. If there’s anyone in this world who knows you better than you know yourself, it’s Willy Tybur.

“Come on, answer truthfully. How are you really feeling?”

“…No better than I was yesterday.”

He sits back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. He’s right, there’s no point in lying to him. What do you gain from it? There’s nothing to be ashamed of, with what you’ve experienced in the past. Your uncle knows all about it, what you endured just a few years prior.

On that island of devils.

“Any news of the festival?”

He shakes his head. “The plan remains the same. We carry out our duties, till the end.”

Now you understand why he sent those guards away. Of all the people in Marley, the only ones who know about this plan are the two of you. You’re aware of your uncle’s true intentions when it comes to the upcoming festival in Liberio. And while you’re prepared to deal with the consequences…you can’t help but wonder if there’s another way.

“Are you certain they’ll send someone to attack?”

“No doubt in my mind. Commander Magath has already prepared his troops for battle. We have no way of knowing how they’ll attack, but our intel strongly suggests they’ll make an appearance.”

Of course. You wouldn’t put it past those filthy beasts to attack such a precious event. An event that intends to glorify Liberio and shine a light on the Eldians living there, seeking redemption for their cursed blood—all the while condemning the devils that live at the other side of the sea.

The island devils—the same ones you lived with for five years of your life. The ones you shared bread with; the ones you trained with; the ones you stargazed with in the dead of night.

Your throat tightens at the memories. The ones you used to love.

No.

You shake your head and stare straight at your uncle, who’s watching you intently. You have to be careful in front of him. There’s no reason to show signs of weakness or sympathy for the enemy.

There was a time you didn’t think of yourself as any different as those on the island. They had the same blood running through their veins as you did; the only difference was their home across the sea. And for years, you were convinced you were right.

But those days are gone. Over. In the past. There’s no going back now, not after what you’ve done.

What you’ve all done.

“…Can I ask you something, uncle?”

His shoulders loosen considerably. Despite the constant pressure and expectations that comes with the family name, he’s always been fond of the simple pleasures in life. Hearing you address him by such a title is one of them.

“Of course you can.”

You swallow and stare him in the eye, fists quaking in your lap. “Are you really planning to die that night?”

A heavy silence settles over the two of you. He lowers his head just a smidge—and for the first time in your life, you see Willy Tybur as a man who’s scared of death. Who’s scared of the inevitable, the promise of blood and war and loss. You see him as a simple man, cursed with the blood of Eldia. A respected ruler, desperately searching for a way out of this terrible war. And a father, clinging to the memories of his children’s smiles.

You don’t blame him in the slightest. If you were in his shoes, you would be terrified beyond belief, too afraid to even look anyone in the eye. That’s why you’re taken aback when he glances up at you, a calm smile plastered on his face.

“Yes, I am.”

“Auntie Greta won’t be pleased, you know.”

It’s a low blow, bringing up his wife—and the mother of their five children. You almost feel guilty, upon seeing the pain flash across his face. But if it’s enough to convince him to rethink this stupid plan, to find a way out of this mess and ensure that he doesn’t have to die—for their sake—you’re willing to do it.

“I know.” He sighs and stands from his seat, dusting his jacket as he does. “I hope she’ll be able to forgive me.”

“There’s still time,” you spit, and you shoot up from your seat to meet his eyes once more. “You don’t have to do this, uncle. You don’t have to die on that stage!”

Suddenly you’re pulled against his chest, with his delicate hands pressed against your head. The soft scent of lavender bathes your tongue, reminding you of the lavish life you were gifted within these Walls, despite having devils’ blood in your veins. An ongoing war between angels and devils, parted by a single salty ocean. A war that’s gone on for hundreds of years, with both sides screaming for it to stop.

A war you’ve already lost too many people to, on both sides—and now, you’re about to lose at least one more to the endless bloodshed.

“Commander Magath said the same thing,” he chuckles, and for a moment you wonder if he’s even talking to you at all. “If I don’t go out there, how will the rest of the world rally behind our cause? Those island devils must be disposed of, and if this is how we can do that, I’m more than willing to give my life for such a noble cause.”

This reckless bravery, the boldness of his words, the casual gambling with his life, and the hug that makes you feel as though this is really the end—it reaches into the darkest depths of your mind and pulls out a memory.

A memory of a boy, with a wide smile and bright green eyes.

“I’ll make sure to say my goodbyes to Greta and the kids before we leave for the festival. I suggest you do the same as well, just in case…”

You swallow hard once more. Worst case scenario: neither of you return home to your family, murdered by the island devils themselves. You know Greta and the kids will already be distraught over your uncle’s death; you have to return home for their sake, if not your own. You remember Fine’s gentle face, and your stomach swirls with something awful.

“Now go, get some rest.” He pulls away and heads for the door, leaving you trembling by the velvet chair beside the fireplace. “We all have a busy day tomorrow.”

He shuts the door behind him with a soft click—and not a second later, you flump back into the chair beside the fire, your face hidden in your trembling palms.

Not yet. Don’t take him just yet.

Willy has a family. A wife who adores him. Children who love him dearly. A niece who’s seen him as a father—ever since your mother died, you’ve looked up to him like he was the one who put the stars in the sky.

He has aspirations. Achievements. A life.

And all of that could be wiped out two nights from now, if he continues with this plan.

But it’s futile to try to reason with him. He can be a stubborn man—it’s something you’ve inherited from him, unfortunately. Once he sets his mind to something, it’s practically impossible to talk him out of it.

With a shaky breath, you push yourself out of your seat and head for the door, already thinking about what to say to Fine and the children if you return home from the festival without their father.

The day carries on as normally. Aunt Greta helps you prepare for the festival tomorrow, brushing your hair and picking out only the finest pieces of jewelry for you to wear. Fine continues to round up the kids, sending you tired smiles every now and then. You always feel a bit guilty for never being able to help her with them, since the majority of your time has been dedicated to remaining at your uncle’s side, preparing for your role as heir to the Tybur family. Sometimes you wish the issues at hand were simpler, so you could steal just a few moments playing with them and making them smile.

The rain is still beating hard against the roof when you retreat to your room for the night. You change out of your clothes and climb into bed, with the heavy blankets thrown over your head. But no matter how many times you close your eyes, you can’t seem to fall asleep.

The plan is set in stone. You heard your uncle confirming it with Commander Magath, just before dinner. Draped over the chair in the far corner is your outfit for the speech at the festival: a black dress with long sleeves and a high collar, with white lace sewn around the neckline.

Just looking at it makes you want to scream. A dress fit for a funeral, not a festival.

But it’s done. Your uncle’s mind is made up. The plan follows through, whether you like it or not.

With a huff, you pull the pillow over your head and pray the sound of the rain outside will lull you into a dreamless slumber.

The first day of the festival carries on as usual. A carriage comes by to pick you and your uncle up, and the two of you leave the gates of the mansion in the early afternoon, leaving the children in the care of your aunt Greta.

The festival is a two-day event. The first day serves to greet the visiting leaders of the neighboring countries, at a grand hall close to the center of Liberio. You’re less than pleased about attending; you’ve already had your share of elegant balls and fancy gatherings to last a lifetime. Nevertheless, it’s expected of you to go. Besides, you might as well keep an eye on your uncle while you’re there, anyway.

The dress your aunt picked out for you is actually one of her own: a dark blue shade with thin straps around your shoulders, with the faintest hint of lace around the hem. Before leaving the mansion, you decided against bringing a sweater with you, thinking that it would only add unnecessary layers to your already stuffy outfit. But now, with the slight chill fluttering in through the windows of the carriage…you’re starting to wish you’d brought it along.

The gathering is similar to all the others you’ve attended in the last few years or so. Gorgeous dresses, pristine suits, crystal glasses filled to the brim with wine. It’s not your favorite brand of alcohol, but it does the job and eases your nerves just a bit.

You swish the liquid around in your glass, as your uncle drones on and greets the people around you. Just looking at it makes you scoff. You’re ashamed to admit it, but you have a soft spot for the common ale they used to serve over on the island. It was warmer, a bit more welcoming than this kind of fancy wine.

With a roll of your eyes, you down the rest of your drink and hand it off to one of the server kids—a young blond boy with wide eyes. Not a moment later he places another glass in your hands, and you mumble a short thank you before turning to your uncle.

“I just need some fresh air,” you explain, and Willy brushes you off with a smile. You swallow another mouthful of wine and step outside into the cool night air, hugging your arm around your body.

It’s nothing you haven’t seen before. Your uncle is a master at these events—easy to talk to and effortlessly polite. It’s a gift, you’ve heard your aunt say about him, to be able to speak with so many different people as though it’s nothing at all. Of course, that’s where the Tybur family’s strengths lie: fostering healthy relationships with Marley and the other nations of the world, all through your uncle’s charismatic approach.

Yeah, you have to be charismatic for something like this. Without your uncle convincing the world to fight against the island of devils tomorrow night, the nation of Marley would not stand a chance against them in this war.

The wine glass trembles in your grip at the thought of tomorrow night. Something cool drips down your hand; a thin line of red slowly crawls down your wrist. You wipe it away in haste before taking another swig.

The taste of alcohol burns your throat. It’s disgusting, too pristine and smooth for your liking. But at least it numbs your mind for the time being.

You almost chuckle at the thought: what would the leaders of the neighboring nations say if they saw the heir to the Tybur family, drunk out of her mind on a balcony in the middle of Liberio?

But with a fuzzy mind comes a flood of memories, some pleasant and some revolting. Some that want to make you laugh until your sides hurt, and some that make you want to fling the glass right off the edge of the building. Or better yet, yourself.

It’s a phase. She’ll get over it, eventually.

The cold glass bites into your palm. A jolt of energy shoots through your arm—and for a split second, you nearly shatter it right there in your hands. But you rein yourself in just in time, and only the edge of the glass splits in half.

She’ll forget about the time spent over there, I’m sure. It must’ve been hard for her, surrounded by so many devils. Pretending to be one of them.

Laughter booms from the room behind you. It seems as though everyone’s having a good time, exchanging pleasantries and happy memories of their childhoods.

You don’t belong here, Tybur. You know that—it’s written all over your face. This isn’t really your home. So come back.

Your teeth chatter—is it the wind, or something else? It’s hard to tell.

I trusted you! We all did! And you’re just going to leave like it’s nothing?!

Warmth floods over the palm of your hand. Suddenly you’re staring at the ground, at the shattered remains of the wine glass, watching the red streaks drip from your skin.

“Lady Tybur, are you alright?!”

A pair of soft hands, much smaller than your own, cradle your injured hand in a towel. It’s the blond boy from earlier, the same one who refilled your wine glass. He’s careful with how he handles you, always keeping the towel between his skin and your own. As though he’s been given strict orders not to touch you.

Your head is swimming now, eyelids growing heavier by the minute. “I…I’m fine,” you manage to say, forcing a smile at him. “Thank you for your help.”

It doesn’t hurt, but you don’t exactly want to parade through the ballroom with an injured hand. So you keep the towel wrapped around it, clutch it to your chest, and bid the boy farewell. His hazel eyes are wide when you thank him, even more so when you graze your other hand against the top of his head to ruffle his hair.

Soft, almost fuzzy… It reminds you of something from years ago; you just don’t have the courage to say it out loud.

It doesn’t take you long to find your uncle. There he is in the center of the room, holding out his wine glass and leading a toast with the other guests. Your heel nearly catches on the linoleum floor, and it’s getting harder to keep your eyes open.

His eyes widen when they fall on your face, and then the towel wrapped around your hand. “It’s nothing,” you mumble at once, “I’m just feeling a little ill. I’ll wait in the carriage until the party’s over.”

He looks like he wants to object, but he knows better than to make a spectacle out of your injuries. Already it looks like some of the guests are eyeing your hand and whispering amongst each other. He knows better than to feed into public speculation like this.

“If you wish,” he finally answers, “but make sure you clean it well before you leave.”

With a hasty nod, you hurry out of the ballroom and down the golden hall, praying you won’t fall until you get to the washroom.

A few guards offer to help, but you brush them off at once. That would be a sight to see—the heir of the Tybur family, assisted by her family’s lovely guards because she can’t even walk properly.

The washroom is silent when you step inside—you’re alone, and you lock the door behind you as fast as you can. A gush of cool water sprays over your palm when you lean over the edge of the sink. The red wine slides down the drain with the rest of the water, leaving your palm looking as good as new, without even the trace of a scar.

Your uncle warned you about drinking too much during times like these. Too much alcohol isn’t good for your body; it fumbles with the Titan powers, dulling your reflexes more than usual. It’s a side effect of inheriting your family’s Titan, unfortunately. You’ve heard (and seen) the past users suffer through the same thing.

A shard of glass is resting at the bottom of the sink. For a moment you think about slicing your palm again, just to feel that flood of energy course through your veins. To feel that power in the palms of your hands again, ending it all right here and now.

No. The voice is firm in the back of your mind. Not yet. Not with so many people here.

You grimace, throw the shard and the stained towel in the wastebasket, and stumble out of the washroom.

There’s a window opened at the end of the hall. From the damp scent that clings to the air outside, it’s getting ready to rain.

The word makes you shiver.

A thousand droplets land on the roof of the tavern. The soft pitter-patter is almost enough to lull you back to sleep, if not for the beating heart against your ear. Your face buries into his chest, breathing in the warm, musky scent of the boy beside you.

His fingers trail down your bare back, soft and gentle and reminding you of home.

Not the home across the sea. Not the home at the base, where the rest of the cadets are celebrating. But the home you dream of having years from now, with a house in the forest and kids at your knees and Eren at your side.

He says your name so softly you almost miss it. You glance up at him, chin propped up on his chest, eyelashes fluttering through the darkness. He threads a hand through your hair, still frayed from sleep, before settling his palm against your cheek.

“It’s morning already, isn’t it?”

It’s hard not to sound disappointed as the question leaves your lips. The two of you had snuck out after the party last night, long after Mikasa and Armin had gone to bed. With what little savings you had, the two of you paid for a room in the nicest tavern Trost has to offer, to have a bit of privacy from the rest of the Scouts.

But now it’s morning, and you have to hurry back to the base before the others notice your absence. And gods forbid Captain Levi discovers you’ve left; you shudder at the promise of punishment upon returning to base.

Eren’s eyes are bright, even in the darkness. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but the sound of birds chirping through the light rainfall tells you morning has come. His skin is hot against your own—you can practically feel his Titan’s power coursing through his blood.

Devil’s blood, you remind yourself, and your eyes fill with tears.

“Shit,” he mumbles, sitting up at once, “what’s wrong? Was it something I said?”

You shake your head, chuckling weakly at how nervous he can get around you. You lean into his chest again, wiping away your tears, before pressing a kiss against his collarbone.

“Not a chance,” you whisper. “…I just wish this night could last forever.”

The thought makes you want to laugh. You’re kids, no more than fifteen and sixteen years old, at the front of a war neither of you asked for. Kids who spent all the money they had on a tiny room on the second floor of a tavern, doing nothing except crawling under the covers and falling asleep in each other’s arms. Kids who will surely die in thirteen years’ time—more like eight years, but Eren doesn’t know that. Kids who will never grow up to get married or have children or grow old at each other’s sides.

Kids that will never create the home you’ve dreamed of—the same one Eren reminds you of, in a little house at the heart of the forest.

“I want to live with you, when this is over.” The words burn your tongue on the way out. Tears stream down your face, hot and desperate and just wishing for a dream that cannot be fulfilled.

Eren’s hands stiffen against your back. For a moment you wonder if he’s going to reject you, to shy away and claim he’s not ready for something like that yet. You wouldn’t be surprised; sometimes it seems as though the only thing on that boy’s mind is revenge and fighting.

But then he leans in, his lips barely brushing against your own as he speaks, “I want to live with you, too.”

It sounds more promising than I love you. More intimate. More hopeful for the future. Almost as though the two of you won’t die, either tomorrow or sometime in the next eight years.

Live with me.

You twist your fingers in his hair and kiss him fiercely, the sounds of the rain and his heartbeat filling your ears.

It’s not long before Willy joins you outside in the carriage. The party is over quickly, in preparation for the festival tomorrow morning, and for his speech tomorrow night. Neither of you say anything the entire ride home; he even lets you retreat to your bedroom without a fuss once you reach the mansion. You’re grateful for that, at least.

You stare up at the ceiling throughout the night, stealing bits of sleep here and there, tossing and turning against the pillows. The rain keeps you awake. The darkness makes it hard to breath. Tears stain your cheeks and the sheets below.

His name is on the tip of your tongue. You haven’t spoken it in years, too afraid that someone would hear you. That someone would ask you who he was, and why you sounded so sad when you said his name. It happened once with Bruno, when he was no more than three, when he snuck into your room while looking for a place to hide from his brothers. You begged him not to say anything to his parents, and for the most part he’d obeyed. Since then, you refrained from speaking about him, even when you were alone.

But now there’s a crushing weight against your chest. Memories piling on top of each other, choking you and making it hard to breathe. Your blood thrums in your veins at the thought of him—both the Titan part and the human part inside you. Even after all this time, you still want him. His power, his warmth, his skin, his heart, his eyes—everything that makes him…

“Eren,” you whisper, with no one but the rain to hear you.

The weight eases off your chest just a bit. You whisper it again and again, until the pain becomes bearable, before sinking into a dreamless slumber, with his name still on your lips.

Everything’s on fire.

The people, the buildings, the stage—everything around you is burning down. Blood slips down your forehead, down your arm and staining your dress. The black dress your aunt picked out for you, so beautiful but sad. The perfect dress to wear to a funeral.

Tears burn against your eyes as you stare up at the monster before you.

The night began so simply. Willy took to the stage, voice booming throughout the crowd. Cameras flashed, people cheered. Fanfare played. Promises were made. War was declared.

And then the stage burst into splinters, a deafening roar shattering the air. You barely had time to scream your uncle’s name as he was plucked from the stage, blood spraying from his torn limbs as he slid down the monster’s throat.

Not a monster—a Titan.

Everything is dark. The people are screaming, desperately trying to escape the Titan’s wrath. You can hear the surviving members of the military screaming into their radios, calling for every single troop to return home to defend Liberio. The Titan roars again before smashing another box of seats closest to the stage—the one where the military officers had been seated.

The ground is slick with blood as you push yourself onto your feet. Clutching your arm and glaring up at the Titan, your skin already sewing itself up. But the cut on your forehead remains untouched.

The Attack Titan.

You knew the island devils would plan to attack during the speech—you just didn’t expect them to send him.

Your stomach flips. Staring up at the boy you once knew, the boy you once loved, and the boy whose heart you broke…it sends a powerful wave of rage through you.

“Eren,” you whisper his name hatefully now, and the blood drips down the sides of your face.

A burst of lightning floods your vision, as the Titan inside you comes to life.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren x reader #eren x you #eren x y/n #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x y/n #attack on titan x reader #kisses in the morning rain #aot fics

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diaphragmjellyfish · 4 years ago

Text

Eli “Hawk” Moskowitz NSFW Alphabet

Not my gif

A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Hawk is pretty quiet after sex. He likes to lay there with you draped over his chest and a smirk on his face while you both catch your breath. If it was a particularly rough night he will get a wet cloth and clean you off before getting snacks and turning on some rock music or an action movie. He’s almost always the big spoon when cuddling.

B: Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also yours)

His favorite body part of yours is your face. He thinks you look so innocent and pure like a literal ray of sunshine. A complimentary opposite to his look. He especially likes how sweet you look while doing certain *ahem* activities. His favorite body part of his are his abs. He worked hard for them and they give him confidence. He loves when you run your hands down them while y’all are making out.

C: Cum (anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Hawk likes to cum on your face or inside you. You guys are young and not at all ready for kids so you always wrap it up, which is why he usually cums on your face. He could honestly finish just thinking about how you look covered in him like that. When it’s a super passionate or romantic night he prefers to finish inside you with or without the condom. He just likes to look deep in your eyes.

D: Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory)

He’s always wanted to try anal. His tattoo buddy Rico told him it was awesome, and he’s wanted to do it ever since. He’s nervous to ask you though because he would never want you to be in pain. When you eventually tell him you want to give it a go, he’s beyond excited but also super gentle.

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Hawk is somewhat experienced, but his confidence makes up for anything he might not be sure about. He was with Moon for a few months and learned all the basics, but it’s with you that he really starts to experiment. He’s also a super quick learner.

F: Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

The boy loves to try new things. You guys are making your way through the Kama-sutra. He still thinks you can never go wrong with the classics though- missionary and cowgirl. As long as he can touch you he’s a happy guy.

G: Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they more humorous, etc.)

He almost always is wearing a smirk when y’all are going at it. He’s more serious than goofy at first just because he feels like he has something to prove but once you guys get comfortable and he knows he can be himself around you, he lets loose a little and will crack a joke or two during.

H: Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes)

God I wish I could say the carpet matched the drapes lmaooo imagine a little mini mohawk. But fr he’s probably trimmed. Nothing too fancy but he keeps it clean.

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

He’s a romantic at heart, but only for you. He’d never tell anyone but on Valentine’s day he goes all out. Rose petals, candles, a massage. And he loves to buy you lingerie to wear for him.

J: Jack off )Masturbation hc)

He does it a lot when he’s by himself because he can’t believe he got such a sexy mf as his girl. He always thinks of you. If he’s ever too frustrated from training or a tournament he’ll rub one out by himself so he doesn’t take out his anger on you. He’d never want to hurt you. But if you’re there, he obviously prefers you over his hand.

K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Anal, Hair pulling, choking, he loves when you bite his shoulder when it feels good, or scratch his back so when he takes off his shirt at practice everyone knows he did a good job. He also loves to leave hickeys all over your neck and thighs. He’s a confident boi but he has an insecure past so he wants everyone to know you’re taken and taken well ;)

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

He’ll take you anywhere and everywhere. Bed, the dojo, the canyon, on his motorcycle in an alley somewhere, he literally does. Not. care. You guys even did it in his mom’s Sentra while it was in the middle of the car wash

M: Motivation (What turns them on, what gets them going)

Any time you bend over, or ask him to help you with something like opening a jar, he likes to feel needed and wanted. You could honestly look at this boy funny and he’d pop a hard one.

N: NO (Something they wouldn’t do)

Anything that causes you pain. He would never slap you or make you gag on him or anything like that. Also threesomes are out, whether that’s with another guy or another girl, he wants it to be just you and him always.

O: Oral (preference in giving or receiving)

The first time you went down on him he thought he was gonna explode. He couldn’t believe it was happening. But the first time he went down on you? He’d never heard such beautiful noises and he knew from then that he wanted to hear those little moans every day for the rest of his life. He’s got the basics down when you first get together, but after you show him what you really like and y’all start experimenting? God tier head.

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

Honestly depends on the day. When you guys first meet he just wants to impress you so he’s super fast and rough, but once you tell him that slow and steady wins the race, he starts to take his time. You still enjoy a good pounding every once in a while though

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies)

He’s the king of quickies (not too quick tho if ya know what I mean). He’s a young guy, he’s horny all the time and doesn’t care if anyone sees. He’s doing what he wants when he wants as long as you’re ok with it.

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment)

YES. It’s his favorite thing. You both love to get freaky and try new things. He’d do anything you ask him to do, and do it well.

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for)

Ngl, when y’all first got together, this kid would bust in under 10 minutes. He’s a young guy, you were his second girlfriend ever, and he spent most of his childhood thinking he would never even talk to a girl like you. He bounced back fast though and could go for multiple rounds. And he’s built up stamina over time so no issues here.

T: Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them?)

He loves to use toys on you. In the beginning, you were having trouble reaching the summit *wink wink* no matter what he did. He was amazing, but for whatever reason you couldn’t quite finish. You told him it was fine but he said he couldn’t enjoy it if he knew you weren’t enjoying it. So one day he bought a tiny pink vibrator and held it between your legs while he fucked you and you LOST IT. Now he has several different toys that he uses on you all the time.

U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He’s not much of a tease. He likes to let you both have what you want. But he loves when you tease him. The anticipation of you hovering over him, not knowing when or if you would finally sink down, gets him that much more excited.

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Kind of quiet, but lots of swearing and groaning. Literally the “ugh fuck” right in your ear as he sinks into you. He doesn’t like to be too loud (his old shy self is still there) and would rather hear you scream for him.

W: Wild Card (Random hc)

He is very much into foreplay. He likes to make sure you’re on the brink of orgasm before he even gets in you. Your only sexual experiences before you met him were guys just shoving themselves into you completely dry and when you told him that, he promised you he would never do that to you. He’s been a foreplay prodigy ever since. It’s his thing.

X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Probably about 5 or 6 inches, average girth. Honestly size really is overrated. The G spot is only 3 inches in I’m tired of everyone acting like bigger is better. You Don’t Need Much if they’re using it right and he definitely does.

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive)

On a scale of 1 to 10, Hawk is an 11. He could fuck you all day every day for the rest of his life. Morning, noon, and night. Rich or poor, in sickness and in health (I got carried away lmao)

Z: ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep after)

Hawk likes to cuddle, eat snacks, and watch a movie after. Maybe it’s because he always felt insecure sleeping around other people as Eli but he always lets you fall asleep first. He loves to feel like he’s watching over and protecting you while you sleep on his chest. Literally when you’re in such a vulnerable state around him he feels so honored and would die before he let anyone lay a finger on you.

#cobra kai #hawk x reader #eli moskowitz x reader #miguel x reader #robby keene #ck #karate kid #smut #hawk smut

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