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acourtofwhatthefuck · 10 months ago

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Hello, hope you're doing alright. I have a pretty twisted one shot request concerning our amazing Shadowsinger. I was looking at the super natural dark dialogue prompts list and I feel like the #24 and #36 would fit perfectly for my request.

So basically: I was thinking about Azriel capturing the reader. She's a spy from the Spring Court and she was on a mission wandering at the border of the Night Court. When the reader wakes up, she's tied up in Azriel torture room. She also realizes how Azriel seems to be drawn to her. As she tries to find a way to make him untie her, she remembers something about Illyrians obssesion with bargains and deals. She offers to make a deal with him that the first one to make the other cum earn a favor. If she wins he spares her life, and if not he can kill her. And like as they conclude the pack, a tattoo appears on both of them and bla bla bla... and she ends up winning this challenge maybe?

Can't wait to see if you'll be willing to write this! I think it would have a lot of potential if written by you. Anyways, keep up your good work. I love your writing.

Okay, I know I said my next release would be the POM bonus bits, and then I’d be working on my other pieces, but I got this request and had immediate inspiration for it, so here it is!

Thank you to whoever sent this in! I hope I did it justice. It was very fun to write! I hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

The prompts you requested to be included in this will be written in bold.

Note: I haven’t tagged anyone in this because I desperately need to sort out my tag lists and haven’t had the chance. I’ll add them later if I get the time. Sorry!

Warnings: Smut! 18+, minors dni. NSFW. Some details of aggressive behaviour. Azriel being a sore ass LOSER.

Lust is a Losing Game — Azriel x Reader.

You can feel the caress of Night before your eyes open.

Every single court you have trespassed and traversed has its own distinct feel. The Autumn Court feels perpetually — and unsurprisingly — like a stroll through a forest, touched by brisk air and hues of oranges, yellows, reds. Your home court — Spring — has a feeling of renewed hope; like the first rays of sun after a long, harsh winter.

The Night Court is blood-drenched, rippling darkness, and the allure of scandal, of want, of lust.

Night time is for secrets and exploration. It’s for burning the bridge between who you are in the daylight and becoming something…else. It’s exciting, and it’s coaxing, and—

Cold, sharp metal prods beneath your chin. Its point is lethal. Any wrong move, and you’re bleeding.

Perhaps even more lethal is the quiet voice that commands, “Eyes open.”

Slowly, you comply — because you are both intrigued and wise. Intrigued by where you went wrong and where you ended up. Wise, because you know that cold, granite voice.

It doesn’t surprise you in the least to open your eyes and find Azriel the shadowsinger stood in front of you, his blade at your throat.

You know of him, of course — spymaster of the Night Court, a rare species of fae, far more powerful than many realise. You’ve sat across from him during terse meetings between courts and been the target of those guarded, icy stares. You’ve never heard him utter more than a few words at a time; he is spoken for by reputation, by violence and threat and battle.

But you’d know that voice anywhere.

You peer up at him through eyes blurred by some sort of power. And when your lips tilt up into a smile, a subtle tick of his jaw tells you it incenses him.

“Hello, Azriel.” You rasp.

The blade presses into your skin as he asks, “What were you doing at the border of our court?”

“Picking wildflowers. Foraging berries. Making a daisy chain. All the things a lady loves to do.”

A quiet noise sounds in his throat. “Is that what you are? A lady?”

“I’m whatever you want me to be, shadowsinger.”

His answering smile is cruel. A harsher press, and his blade nicks your throat. A drop of warm blood blooms on your skin.

Your eyes, rapidly clearing, take quick stock of your surroundings. The room is dark and damp and cold, empty save for the chair on which you sit — to which you are constrained. You can scent the blood of a thousand previous victims of the shadowsinger, and you imagine the vacancy of the space must have been more intimidating to them, somehow, than if the room were filled to the brim with torture instruments. The lack thereof tells anyone who finds themselves here that the Night Court’s spymaster does not need such things to do his work.

You try to shift in the chair, and find yourself well and truly stuck in place. Your gaze drops to your feet, where shadows act as manacles, as firm and strong and steel. Though your hands are restrained around the back of the chair, the cool touch tells you that a shadow binds them, too.

Azriel follows your gaze. A smug smile graces his mouth as he watches you try and fail to move.

“An impressive little trick.” You offer, nodding to the shadows around your ankles. “Now be a gentleman and untie me.”

“Tell me what you were doing at our border, and maybe I will.”

“Tell me your secrets and I’ll tell you mine.”

“You’re not really in the position to barter, right now, are you?”

“And yet, here I am.” You smile. “Bartering.”

He stares down at you, shrouded in shadows, in night. His aloofness has been perfected over centuries, but you somehow know where to look in order to tell — you’re getting on his nerves.

A slight angling of his head. Shifting on his feet. He drags the tip of that blade up, not pressing quite hard enough to draw more blood, but to make a twisted heat enter your veins. The blade stops at your cheek.

“I don’t know how you do things in the Spring Court.” His breath caresses your face. “But I can’t imagine it’s part of your job description to be a smartass who can’t keep her mouth shut.”

Your eyes flick down to that blade. Back up to his gaze. “I can’t imagine it’s part of yours to lust over me so tirelessly.”

The shadowsinger actually falters.

Something tells you he would never do that in front of somebody else.

His teeth grit. He bites out, “Tell me why the fuck you were at the border—”

“I’ve seen you, you know.” A satisfied smirk curls your lips. You will not give away that your arms and legs are beginning to ache. “I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me for years.”

A clatter bounces off the walls as he tosses his dagger to the floor. Can’t be one that means much to him, then. You almost laugh, but a scarred hand is gripping your chin to the point of pain. He tilts — yanks — your chin up. “Pray, tell, how do I look at you?”

“With hunger.”

“Hatred.”

“Lust.”

“Loathing.”

“Like you want to touch me.”

“I am going,” he snarls, “to wrap my hands around your throat and—”

“Fuck me?”

“Kill you.”

A mocking pout puckers your lips. “Less sexy.”

"You must be a fool," his fingers bite into your skin, "to laugh in the face of such danger."

"What danger would that be? You've handed me your threats. What are you waiting for, Azriel? Kill me."

He could easily retrieve his blade and gut you then and there. You know it. He knows it.

And yet he doesn't do it.

He clenches his jaw so hard that you hear his teeth clash. He squeezes your chin, calluses and scars grazing you. It feels...good.

But then a growl is ripping from deep within his chest, and he's tearing his hand away and pivoting on the spot. He's confident enough in the shadow bindings to turn his back to you, clearly.

You just smile. He can't do it. Can't kill you.

"I'll do you the courtesy of asking one last time." His voice is strained. "Why were you snooping around our border."

"Perhaps I was hoping you'd find me and tie me to a chair. I'm into that kind of stuff, you know. We could make this fun."

"You think this room is intended for fun?"

"I think you and I could have fun anywhere, shadowsinger."

He says nothing. You watch as he sucks in a deep breath, steels himself. By his command, a shadow dances out and retrieves his blade from the floor. His fist flexes at his side.

Perhaps you can irritate him enough that he'll either kill you or let you leave out of pure exasperation. Or turn on the tears and plead innocence, that you're just a foolish, foolish girl doing her High Lord's bidding.

Or perhaps you can have fun.

You scan your brain for what you know about this court. How you can use it to your advantage — use Azriel to your advantage. An idea knits itself in the twisted avenues of your mind.

"This court has a thing for bargains, does it not?" You watch Azriel's shoulders tense at the sound of your voice. "How about making a bargain with me?"

He chokes on a scoff. "Why would I want to make a bargain with you?"

"Because you want me."

Slowly, he turns. His eyes are narrowed, mouth pinched. He looks two seconds away from using that blade to wipe your head clean from your neck.

But then he smiles, cruelly and coldly. "How very sure of yourself you sound."

You mimic that smile. "I am." Damn right you are. "So here is my deal: you toy with that lust however you like. We tease each other. Coax reactions from each other."

"Where is the bargain in that?" No outright refusal.

"If I make you cum first, shadowsinger," your eyes fall to his breeches. You could swear you glimpse the outline of a bulge. "If I make you cum first, I get to walk out of here with my head still attached to my body. But if you make me cum first...well. You get to know why I was snooping around the Night Court border, and you can send my head back to my High Lord in a pretty little box."

He stares at you for what feels like so, so long. Head to toe, his eyes rake over you. His shadows whisper in his ears, things you don't need nor care to hear.

Because you might not have his shadows, but you are a spy, just as he is. And you know his mind is already made up.

Shadowsinger, spymaster, feared member of the infamous Night Court — but still, a male weakened by lust. Lust for you that has driven him mad for a long, long time.

Still, he tries to keep up a front. He sneers at you, "You'd so willingly barter away your life?"

You smile. Simply, prettily. "It turns me on."

Oh, he's lost to his need. There's a newer scent that has joined the present ones of cedar and night-chilled mist and bloodstains. This one is deeper, smokier. Spicier.

He points his blade at you, the tip glimmering. And the shadow binds fall away as he demands, "Undress."

Your hands fall back to your sides. "Are you saying you agree to my terms?"

"Yes. Now take. Your fucking. Clothes off."

"What way is that to talk to a lady?"

"You are no lady—" His words fall short as, with a snap of your fingers, your clothes disappear. Leave you in nothing but your undergarments. His eyes drink in the brassiere, the silky little fabric that hangs from your hips. He swallows. "And I am no gentleman."

A spy you may be — someone who throws themself into danger and risk and dirt and blood, time and time again. But you never see a reason not to wear pretty underwear while doing so. And gods, in this moment, you're very glad of that choice.

It's the same colour as the siphons that adorn the male before you. The coldness in Azriel's eyes is replaced by intense, raw heat. He takes a step towards you, but you kick out a leg.

"Your turn." You say.

He pauses. Chucks his dagger aside again.

And then his clothes are gone.

He doesn't seem the slightest bit fazed by the fact that he stands utterly naked before you. So much golden, sculpted skin on show. All over, white scars tell the stories of previous injuries. His body is a novel written over time.

That silky underwear of yours is already soaked as you take your fill of him. For a moment, you think you might stumble in your bravado. He's huge and hard and standing to attention. Utterly perfect.

But you sit up straight in the chair and plant your hands on the arms. Your legs part, and Azriel hungrily tracks the movement.

"There is only one rule." You tell him. "We don't want to make this too easy, after all."

His jaw flexes. Eyes don't stray from the growing damp patch between your thighs. "What's the rule."

"You can touch me. You can lick me. You can put your cock in my mouth and my hand and rub it against my skin. But you can't fuck me."

He starts, pupils blowing wide. "But—"

"Not today." Your lips curl up. "But if I win, and I walk out of here? Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me."

"You are wicked."

"Do you accept my rule?"

"Yes."

You are wicked, indeed. You widen that gap between your legs until you're hooking them over the arms of the chair. Baring your silk-covered cunt to him. His eyes damn near roll into the back of his head at the sight.

"Do you think you can stand to touch me without fucking me?" You hum, your fingers dancing down to that, sweet, sweet spot. You run them over the dampness, biting your lip. "I don't think you can."

"You underestimate me." Azriel growls. "And you're going to cum first."

There is no opportunity for you to volley a response. Not as Azriel surges forward and yanks you out of the chair, his arms securing you. His firm, velvety cock presses against your stomach. His lips slide over yours in a harsh, bruising kiss.

A male of natural elegance and grace, he doesn't even falter in the kiss or his steps as he marches you back, back, until you're pressed up against a cold wall. You nip his bottom lip and reach between your bodies, wanting to feel the pulsing weight of his cock in your palm, but his hands are grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head.

"No hands." He snarls onto your lips. "Just my cock and your cunt. Whoever cums first is the loser."

You almost want to laugh. So, so easy this will be.

But then he's letting go of your hands and pinning you with a knee. And out of fucking nowhere, a slim bottle appears between his fingers. You watch, leaning against the cold surface of the wall, as he pulls the stopper out of the bottle and tilts it towards you.

Oil drips onto your chest. Rolls down your breasts, your stomach. Azriel watches with predatory focus as it floods to where he wants it — soaking your underwear.

The blue silk darkens, sticks to your skin. Showcases everything that Azriel so desperately wants, but everything he will not get — today.

And then so quickly, he's hoisting your leg at his hip. So quickly, his cock is pressing into your soaking undergarments.

He positions his length between your thighs and guides it through your clothed folds. Both of you let out an immediate gasp at the taunting sensation — that a mere bit of fabric separates you from what you both want.

"Is this how you're going to play it?" Your head falls back, teeth digging into your lower lip. "You think thrusting through my clothes is going to stop you from cumming?"

"No." He makes a small noise, slowly rolling his hips. Watches his glistening cock rubbing against the silk. "But I think I'm going to make you cum fast from it."

"And then you get to kill me."

"And then," the head of his cock nudges your clit, "I get to kill you."

The sensation is divine, you can’t deny it. A coiled, aching pleasure that sits tightly in your lower belly. Azriel hears your intake of breath, and he smiles like this will be easy for him. You’re having none of that.

You’re thankful for your refined stealth and balance as you clamp your leg tighter around him, pull him harder against you. His hands press flat against the wall either side of your head, and you both gasp as his cock rubs so torturously against you, up and down and up and down.

“Gods,” He grunts, dipping down to brush his lips against yours. “This is torture.”

You smile. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to remove my underwear? You still can’t fuck me, though.”

A suffering groan chokes out of him, and he throws his head back. Because yes, he fucking wants you to remove your underwear. Yes, he wants to feel his bare skin rubbing against your bare skin.

But gods, the temptation to slide his cock into you is going to be unbearable.

But even though he knows that, and you know that, he smiles like this is nothing. He bites out, pleasure wavering his voice, “Why not? It’ll only make you lose.”

“I think you’re giving yourself a little too much credit.” You say, and then your underwear is gone, leaving you naked and dripping with nothing to shield you.

Not expecting it so fast, Azriel’s cock slides easily through your folds — and the head nudges your entrance. Very nearly slips in. He growls and halts the roll of his hips.

“Oops.” You smirk. “Careful, shadowsinger.”

“You’re fucking insufferable.” He bites back, and then he’s kissing you.

The kiss robs you of breath and of words. All you can do is twine your arms around his neck and welcome the sensation of him fucking through your folds, your wetness his pleasure. You’re lost to the feeling of him bumping against your clit, rubbing against it. Your legs are beginning to tremble.

“I want to fuck you.” Azriel moans, dropping his head to take in the sight of his cock against your pussy, never entering, never going deeper.

“I know.” Your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “And you have wanted to for a very long time.”

“Yes.” He can’t even deny it. “Yes.”

“You think about me.”

“Yes.”

“You wonder what it’s like to be inside me.”

“Yes.”

“But not today.” Your hands stroke down his muscled arms, and you moan as he grinds his cock against your clit. “Not today.”

“Nor any other day.” His hand fists in your hair, yanking your head up. “Because I will have your head. Cum for me, lady.”

He kisses you again, and gods, you want to cum. Every single inch of you begs and trembles for it. You’re clenching around nothing, desperate to feel him inside you, fucking into you, spilling into you—

But through your pleasured haze, you remember: you will be victorious. Azriel cannot win.

And so when he’s kissing you and kissing you, moans catching in his throat and landing in your mouth, hips faltering with every thrust, you pull your lips from his and sink your teeth into his neck with a harsh bite. You’ve always imagined he’d like that.

And simultaneously, you lock him between your thighs and roll your hips torturously slow, dragging every last sensation from him.

Azriel’s cock, nestled snugly between the folds of your cunt, spasms and twitches. He slams his hands against the wall and goes still. Tries to pull back the control.

But it’s too late for that.

“Fuck!” He shouts, and then ropes of cum are spurting out of him and landing on your stomach, your breasts, your arms. Beads of it roll down his cock. He trembles hard, panting, groaning, growling.

And you suck harshly at his neck. Suck until it leaves a mark. And then pull away with a smile.

Breathing so, so heavily, Azriel’s gaze drops down to his cock like the damn thing has betrayed him. He’s wide-eyed and outraged. He’s not sure what’s just happened.

A horrid longing still aches between your legs and makes you want to continue until you’re exploding, too. But the triumph of a win is pleasure in itself.

“Well, well, well.” You glance down at the cum now coating your skin. “I do believe I was right.”

“What—” Azriel breathes, shaking out of his lust. “What kind of witchcraft was that?” He touches his neck, where you bit him. As though the answer lies there.”

You shrug. “No witchcraft, though I’m flattered you think so. You simply lost the game.”

“I. Don’t. Lose.”

“You just did.” You pat his shoulder. “There, there.”

He rips away, so fast that you almost fall. “Get the fuck away from me.”

“Gladly.” With a snap of your fingers, you’re squeaky clean and clothed once more. Azriel’s clothes return, too. “And I’ll do so with my pretty head still on my shoulders—

“Get out.”

“Because I won the game—”

“Get. Out.”

“A bargain’s a bargain, after all—”

“I will not tell you again.” His hand grabs the back of your neck, hard enough to bruise, and he marches you to the door, yanking it open. “Out.”

You’re thrown into a dim-lit hallway, your body colliding with a cold brick wall. You throw Azriel a smile over your shoulder, despite your teeth singing at the impact.

“Try not to wank over me too much!” You call, as he slams the door shut behind him. “See you around!”

It’s only once you’ve winnowed back to your own court, and you’re bathing the day from your skin, that you notice the small black band inked into your upper arm. You scrub at it until it’s red raw. It doesn’t budge.

The mark of a bargain. But you had always believed that the tattoos of bargains disappeared once the terms were fulfilled…

But if I win, and I walk out of here? Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me…

It had all been bravado. And yet…it had unwittingly been woven into the bargain.

Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me.

That’s the only way you’re getting that mark off your skin.

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waywardstation · 10 months ago

Text

I'm Glad You're Here

It is Akari's sixteenth birthday, and a surprise party is thrown for her. She isn't able to appreciate it as much as she wants to though, and Ingo can tell. Emmet also struggles with facing his first birthday without Ingo, but Elesa is there for him.

HAPPY (VERY LATE) SECOND ANNIVERSARY PLA!! What a wonderful game that has given me many friends and creatively compelled me for more than two years!! I tried to get this out on the date, but lots of things made it very hard to. So now it's out on valentine's day instead, so I'll just excuse it with saying this is my love letter to PLA haha, and it fits with palentine's day, as it contains a lot of appreciating friendships and found family.

I wrote this including three prompts that I had gotten, such as requesting something about Akari or Ingo dealing with their birthdays in Hisui, Ingo and Akari acknowledging the found family dynamic I write them with, and Akari talking a little more about her own family.

OR read it here on AO3!

Enjoy! —————

“Goodnight, Akari!”

“Hope you had fun at your party, Akari!”

“Happy birthday, Akari!”

Standing by the Galaxy Hall’s doors with Ember at her feet, said teen thanked partygoers and bid them goodbye as they trickled out into the chilly autumn night. Protecting themselves from the ongoing rain as best they could, they were quick to make their way down the steps and back to their village homes.

“Oh, Professor! Rei!” Turning away from bidding goodbye to Darego and thanking him for the photos he took, she saw Laventon and Rei were next to leave. “You’re heading out now too?”

“Unfortunately so,” Laventon seemed a bit sheepish, as if apologetic for leaving despite the event having already ended. “Early mornings filled with paperwork are not the most forgiving of late night festivities. Otherwise we’d stay and properly take care of that whole disaster upstairs!”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Akari waved him off with her hand. “I already said Ingo and I would take care of it! Honestly he’s probably already done by now, so it’s fine, you guys can go home! You both already did so much for me tonight with this whole party, anyways; I don’t know how you did it!”

Laventon returned the smile she gave them both with one that was twice as big, seeming very proud with the compliment. “Well it was quite a delight to finally reveal all this, I’ll say; having to keep all of it hidden from you for the last few weeks was by far the hardest part!”

“You did a good job, I had no idea until everyone shouted ‘surprise!’ , honestly.” Akari shrugged her shoulders, giving a little laugh about it. “Thank you for all of this, Professor.”

“You’re most welcome, my dear girl!” Laventon held her in a tight embrace when she stepped forward to give him a farewell hug. “Once again, happy birthday!”

“And Rei, you too; thank you so much for the party,” She next reached out to grab her friend’s arm and pull him into a hug when Laventon stepped aside.

“Well of course-!” He choked out with some strain, crushed in her sturdy grip but doing his best to return the embrace. “You deserved it!”

As the two moved out the door to head back for the night, Laventon gave one last look back, shielding his eyes from the rainfall with one hand. “I hope you have a very good night, we’ll be seeing you tomorrow!”

“Yes, goodnight Akari, happy birthday!” Rei added on, following behind.

“Goodnight, guys!” Akari made a show of waving and bidding them both goodbye, but as Laventon made his way down the steps first, she reached forward and grasped the end of Rei’s scarf, tugging him back.

“Rei, wait!” She whispered, pulling her confused colleague back to her. “Real quick-”

Before he could even protest, Akari reached around behind the Galaxy Hall’s door, and handed him a small woven basket. Holding it out, she waited for him to take it.

“Here, take these. I know the Professor would say no if I tried to give it to him. But it’s for you both, as thanks for putting this whole party together for me.”

Rei studied the basket for a moment. Quickly picking up the sweet smell coming from inside, he put his hands up. “Akari, thank you but we couldn’t take that, those are yours!”

“I know, but please; I love Radisa’s cakes, but I also have a ton of dango from Beni, and Cyllene got me all those imported pastries from the Ginko Guild, and Floaro made me a whole box of muffins…” Akari explained, numbering all the confectioneries with the fingers on one of her hands. “There’s no way I can eat all of them by myself, and I’d rather someone gets to enjoy them rather than let them be wasted!”

“Rei!” Amongst the rain, the professor’s voice called out from down by the units; he’d finally noticed he was gone. “Are you coming?”

Looking back over his shoulder at the call of his name, Akari took the chance to shove the basket into Rei’s hands, to his surprise. “Hey!”

“Uh-oh, yours now!” Akari put her hands behind her back and took a step away from him, a mischievous grin on her face — Rei was now entirely stuck with them. “Guess you gotta take them now!”

“You can’t just- that’s not fair!” Rei seemed stuck between amusement and exasperation as he looked between her and the professor’s direction, caught in the middle of two different options and no proper time to consider them. He shook his head.

“Agh, fine! Thank you for these, Akari, really-” With a free arm, Rei pulled Akari into another quick hug, before whipping around to rush down the steps, protecting the basket as best he could from the rainfall. “Coming, Professor!”

As her colleague made his way down the steps and into the rain, Akari waved him off until he disappeared. Once he was out of sight, the teen’s big smile waned into a more neutral line, and she turned to go back inside the hall. With Ember quick to follow behind as she headed for the staircase, the door closed behind her.

The drizzle continued on.

—————

“Did we miss another spot?”

Ingo glanced over his shoulder from where he stood up on a chair. Akari had entered the otherwise-vacant room, Ember at her heels while she pushed stray paper streamers aside from where they dangled.

“It appears we overlooked the ceiling,” The warden returned to the task at hand, stretching an arm back up to scrub as Akari came near to watch him. “And I’ve overestimated how stubbornly bean paste clings to surfaces once it’s dried. Would you mind holding that bucket up for a moment?”

“Even up there? Man, Beugene really did get it everywhere, didn’t he?” Akari laughed as she retrieved the bucket from the table and held it up to him – she could already hear Beuregard profusely apologizing again to her tomorrow for letting his wurmple get into (then burst out of) her cake. He really could stand to keep a better eye on Beugene, seeing as Miki’s staravia almost flew off with it the other day, but she truely hadn’t been upset at the incident. It had honestly been too impressive seeing just how much cake and paste the little Pokémon had managed to splatter all over the walls, carpet, and guests to feel mad about it.

“Thank you,” Ingo dunked his paste-covered rag into the bucket, wringing the soapy water out generously before going back to work on one last spot. A couple thorough scrapes, and the last of the cake seemed to finally be gone.

Ingo handed the rag back to Akari as she reached out to take it, having already placed the bucket back on the table. She set it aside as the warden took one last look around the room from atop the chair, a final scan. “There. While I wouldn’t be surprised if a Galaxy Team member somehow finds another spot somewhere tomorrow, that should be the last of it.”

“Ok, now get down,” Akari gestured to the floor with one hand while she held the chair with the other. “Don’t want you hurting your old man back.”

“I’m not that old,” Ingo played along with her teasing as he always did. But regardless, he began to step down with a soft grunt that did suggest some tightness, at the very least.

Normally, Akari would have pursued it with more of her usual teasing, like asking how old he really was then — he always came up with something funny when she asked that. But she knew he didn’t really remember his age. And yes, he always said it didn’t bother him in the grand scheme of things. But reminding him he didn’t have that right after they had finished celebrating her sixteenth birthday felt uncomfortable, especially considering he didn’t remember his own birth date either. So she left it there this time, watching him get down.

“Well, exploding cake and its messy aftermath aside, I’d say your party was quite a success; what an array of festivities we had tonight!” With his feet back on the ground, Ingo sang his praises as he set the chair back where it belonged against the wall. “I’m glad to see the sudden rain didn’t dampen the mood; it’s good the professor had opted for an indoor celebration! I do hope you had a good time and enjoyed yourself.”

“Yeah,” Akari began to pick the few remaining scraps of colorful paper out of the carpet, though with a contradictory tone. “I did! It was really nice tonight.”

Ingo’s frown tugged slightly. He pulled down a bundle of streamers and crumpled them together, but he kept a careful eye on her. “…It was all alright, wasn’t it? Because I can understand if the whole, well, cake incident is still upsetting, what with no one actually being able to have any.”

“No, no-” Akari waved it off and turned away from him as Ember handed her a mouthful of paper she had picked up herself, though it also felt avoidant in nature. “Sorry, no, it’s not that. Really, that didn’t bother me! I’m just tired, I guess. It was a really late party!”

Ingo didn’t quite buy it with the way his features held tight. “Well then, that makes two of us I suppose.”

A couple times tonight near the party’s end, he had wondered if something was bothering her. It surely seemed so, but asking unobtrusive questions and gently inquiring if certain things were ok had come up with nothing but reassurances. But still, something felt wrong. As the evening went on, Ingo had been suspecting it went a little deeper.

And when the teen asked if he could possibly stay back and help her clean up, he was afraid it went even deeper than he initially suspected. Like, displaced-person-problems deep. Something he would come the closest to understanding out of everyone here. It was her birthday today after all, being spent in a time period she didn’t belong to. He could easily see it being a day of conflicting emotions, if that was the problem.

But Ingo didn’t know if Akari was simply seeking company from him, or conversation. And if it was as personal as he thought it was, he would never ask about it before she was ready. So for now, he would stick to the former, but he was prepared for the latter if she asked for it.

“Ok, I think that’s all of it.” cramming the last of the colorful paper scraps into a wad, Akari dropped the last of it into a bucket they’d been using for trash. Besides a table standing a little crooked, and a few chairs a little out of line against the wall, it seemed they had restored it to its previously-clean, empty state. “Thanks for staying after to help out, Ingo.”

“I was happy I could be of service,” Picking up the scraps-filled bucket and stuffing the streamers into it, Ingo went for the doorway and stood at the exit. “Before I dispose of this and depart, is there anything else you’d like any assistance with?”

Another chance for her to get out what was clearly weighing on her. But only if she wanted to. Grey eyes patiently watched her as she looked off to the side, clearly considering what to say.

“Um. I’ve got like, a ton of gifts downstairs.” Akari pointed down, in general reference to the floor below. “Would you be able to help me take them back to my unit? Normally I wouldn’t mind a couple trips, but the rain…”

Ingo gave her a flat-lined smile. “Not a problem at all. I’d be happy to help you carry the extra cargo.”

–––––

The drizzle was there to greet them all when Ingo pushed one of the Galaxy Hall’s doors open with his back, holding it open as Akari and Ember hurried out. Carefully going down the slippery steps, they hurried down the empty street to the teen’s unit, burdened with various birthday presents.

“Quiw!” Ember reached the door first, and eager to get out of the rain, squeezed through the moment Akari opened it by a crack. To the teen’s dismay, her Pokémon began shaking the freezing rain out of her fur with a vicious full-body shake.

“Ember, no! You’re supposed to do that outside!” Akari scolded the quilava as she opened the door the rest of the way, but she already seemed resigned to the fact she’d have to dry the floor and walls off later. She opened up her damp blue hanten, now bulging considerably with boxy shapes, to quickly remove the gifts she had sheltered inside it. At least they were still dry.

Ingo stepped into the doorway after her, holding his own similarly-bulging coat closed around the rest of the gifts. Akari retrieved a towel and began to chase after a protesting Ember with it as the warden placed her presents down near the door, but he then stepped back out to wait under the unit’s eave. He wanted to minimize how much rain he tracked inside – he wouldn’t add to the trails of puddles that Akari and Ember were currently leaving all across the floor.

“Ember! You’re dripping everywhere!”

“Qwill!”

Akari was completely absorbed in catching her Pokémon, Ingo could see. He supposed part of him had been curious if she had wanted him to come with her so she could share what had been bothering her – maybe she just hadn’t wanted to say anything at the party, which was understandable.

But now he supposed not, and that was ok. Maybe she’d share another day. Or maybe not at all. But regardless, he had given enough openings for it, so it was now entirely up to her on if she wanted to share or not.

“Well,” Ingo cleared his throat, “I suppose I should get going then, and leave you two to enjoy the rest of your night.” He pulled his cap down further over his eyes in anticipation of going back out into the rainfall. “But I’d like to say that I had a wonderful time at the party tonight, and thoroughly enjoyed being a part of it. I hope today’s celebrations made for a fulfilling and memorable day with those close to you, and I wish for even better ones in the future. Once again, happy birthday Miss Akari, and goodnight.”

“Wait! Ingo, wait-” Akari abandoned the chase. Throwing the towel at Ember (who was subsequently swallowed up by it in an instant), she came back to him. Arms wrapped around his middle and squeezed tightly as she hugged him. “Thank you. For being at the party, and for helping me after. And for the really nice birthday wishes too.”

“You’re very welcome.” Ingo returned the hug as best he could. “Sixteen is a special milestone, after all.”

The restraint that was Akari’s arms only tightened instead of loosening. She stood against him, turning her face into his tunic and let out a long sigh. She didn’t say anything immediately. Ingo wondered for a moment if he had said something wrong amongst those ten short words.

“...Sorry, I know you’re tired and you have stuff you gotta do tomorrow, and you’re trying to leave,” She finally looked up at him. “But, would you mind sticking around for a second? It won’t take that long. But, um, I can make us some tea.”

So she did want to talk to him.

Ingo’s frown once again pulled into a neutral line, his eyes indicating a reassuring smile behind the shade of his hat’s brim. He would certainly be tired tomorrow, but he found that didn’t bother him much in this moment. “Of course.”

—————

“I… don’t believe I follow. What do you mean it didn’t count?”

“I mean it didn’t count, because today can’t actually be my birthday. Like I didn’t actually turn sixteen today.”

With one hand absentmindedly stroking alongside Ember’s back as she curled further into his lap, Ingo watched Akari take the steaming tea kettle from off the irori. The warmth from the pit was a welcome heater against the cold breeze of the cracked-open window behind him — he would have preferred it closed, but Akari liked to listen to the rain. “But today is the date of your birthday, correct? Did we get it wrong? Oh dear, I… I apologize profusely if we did!”

Firsthand embarrassment crept close. No one ever liked to have the date of their birthday forgotten, or gotten wrong. Secondhand embarrassment trailed behind. He knew Akari would never have the heart to tell everyone they got the wrong day after everything they had planned. It must have been so awkward to know the whole time and not say anything for everyone else's sake; no wonder Akari seemed so bothered today.

“Woah, no, it’s nothing like that!” Akari briefly stopped pouring the tea, surprised at how flustered Ingo seemed to get. “Sorry! No, you guys didn’t get it wrong! And I mean technically, today is my birthday. But it's also… not?”

“...While that is certainly a relief, I’m afraid I am still in the dark.” Ingo insisted.

She had told him once that some things felt wrong, like her name. It hadn’t seemed wrong and she certainly felt it as her own, but for all she could remember, she could never recall the name ever leaving the mouth of her friends or family during moments with them. Not even her mother.

She had considered when she was put here, some personal information had been messed with in her memory to ‘protect’ things. She said it would make sense if her name was one of those things. She also said maybe she was entirely wrong and had watched too many time-travel sci-fi movies, a concept he could only dimly recall once re-explained at length.

Ingo couldn’t tell her if she was right or wrong about that. But he was aware of her thoughts on this by now, and he wondered if she had begun to suspect if her birth date was one of those altered things as well.

Setting the kettle back over the irori and getting up with the two cups of tea, Akari handed one to Ingo as she sat down next to him against the wall. Ember, who had previously been comfortable in Ingo’s lap, immediately abandoned him for Akari’s instead. “Um, ok. Let me try and think of how to explain this… Oh, wait- I have stuff I’ve written-”

Leaning over Ember, Akari reached into her satchel, now placed near her bed. She pulled out her Pokédex and set it across her quilava’s back. Ingo, both intrigued and surprised, sat forward to get a better look. She had written things down about this? He watched her flip through the back pages until she reached the sections she had been looking for.

Notes. Dates. Scribbled out nothings. Timelines of the year by its months. Arrows, jumping backwards and forwards on said timelines. Numerous question marks etched deep and dark with frustration.

Page after page. Attempt after attempt trying to understand.

Ingo blinked, keeping down a reflexive mouthful of questions. Whatever this was, it had been bothering her for a long time, clearly. And she had been trying to figure it out by herself the whole time, because this was the first he had heard or seen anything about it.

“Ok, so I remember that before I was put here, when I was still at home, it was almost spring. It was at the beginning of the year, nowhere close to my birthday! But after I got here, and I first showed up on Prelude Beach,” Akari held up the Pokédex, tapping at the page. “I learned that here, it was almost fall. And only a few weeks after my birthday!”

She was tapping at one of the many timelines she had made that took up two pages, surrounded by notes and question marks, and overall seeming to be one of the simpler ones. All of the months of the year, in chronological order. There was a blue dot on March, and on August, a red dot — an arrow connected the former to the latter.

“I skipped like, five months ahead into the year when I was brought here. Kind of. I went back in time, but like, that doesn’t affect my age, does it? So looking at it that way, I really just kind of lost five months, if I went straight from March to August?” The notes lost Akari’s gaze as she blinked up at Ingo, as if wondering if she was even making any sense to him. “Right?”

“Uhm,” while the diagram she had written out certainly helped visualize the jumble somewhat, this was still a lot for Ingo to process. He sat back, scratching under his hat with one hand. “I might require another run-through or two to fully comprehend it, but I believe I’ve grasped the gist of it. That seems probable.”

Perhaps it was because he himself had no birthday, year, date, or even season of his own to compare with as a reference point anyways, but he’d never really given much thought to something like this. It made sense though, he thought. Just because someone went back in time on a certain day, doesn’t mean they’d show up in the past on that exact same day, down to the second. Akari certainly could have showed up here, with the year five months ahead from when she left her own time.

Not that it even mattered much, but maybe something like that had happened to him as well.

“Ugh, I’m sorry, I know all of this sounds so confusing, and all these scribbles probably aren’t helping. It was hard trying to figure this out with nothing but books to use as reference.” Akari seemed to become self-conscious of her rant; she closed her Pokédex and set it down at her side, replacing it with her cup of tea. “But I know dates aren’t the same. It was technically my birth-day today, yes, but not my birthday . It hasn’t been an actual year since my last birthday. I honestly don’t count myself as turning sixteen for another five months.”

“Well, I can understand the conflicting emotions with the celebrations now.” Ingo swallowed down a long sip of tea in order to verbalize his sentiments. He did not understand, though. Not entirely. When he listened to her talk, he heard confusion, and perhaps a little self-directed frustration. He didn’t exactly hear the well-hidden sadness he saw at the party.

This didn’t feel like it was all of it. But he was beginning to suspect he knew what the rest of it was, and he would not broach it himself.

“It was entirely unintended, I’m sure you understand, but all the same, I’m sorry to hear that the party brought up unwanted reminders.” He added on another statement to address it as best he could, more genuine to his true thoughts. “I’m sure the others would be too, if they were aware.”

“I know, I know… and I feel bad about that.” Akari confessed. “But they didn’t know. And I don’t want them to.” She looked down into her tea. “It wasn’t like, obvious that I was bothered at the party, was it Ingo?”

“Not particularly,” He half-lied. It certainly hadn’t been obvious, but it had been enough for him to suspect something, at the very least. He couldn’t speak for anyone else though, and he doubted anybody would ever be able to guess the reason if they did notice anything. “I don’t believe anyone would suspect themselves as the cause of your troubles.”

“You were asking me a lot tonight if I was ok.”

“An exploding birthday cake can be quite a distressing matter.”

The dry humor got a little laugh out of Akari. “…Yeah, ok. But. It’s just…”

Ingo waited.

“I don’t know,” she stumbled, though Ingo could see she very clearly knew. “The party wasn’t really the problem. It’s not that I didn’t appreciate everything they did, because I really did! I know it took a lot of work! But… I dunno.” She stumbled again. “You saw the party tonight. It was huge! And it’s not like it wasn’t super fun, because it was, or that it was too much for me or anything, because it wasn’t , but I kind of just…”

Akari shrugged, looking off to the side. Ingo watched her, patient as she set her cup down on the windowsill behind them and began fidgeting with her scarf.

“I don’t know, I guess I wished my mom had been here to celebrate it too.” Her voice wavered for a moment. “Even though I know that’s impossible right now. I just didn’t want her to miss it. Or more like do it without her, I guess. She would always talk about how turning sixteen was so big and so important, and it was going to be a special milestone. Just like what you said earlier.”

Oh. So it was something he had said.

“I think my mom was looking forward to this birthday more than I was!” Akari continued. “SO I felt bad that I did it without her. And I really miss her a lot, all the time. And I know she doesn’t know what happened to me. And I’m worried about that, and I just… Yeah. I didn’t want her to miss it.”

Ingo bit the inside of his cheek; it was what he suspected it to be – missing her family. Her mother.

But despite all the growing suspicion he let build up inside him over the course of the night, shamefully, he still wasn’t quite sure what to say. Akari’s mother was rarely the topic of their discussions, on account of the teen’s own emotional distress over it. Ingo never tried to bring it up on his own, and treated it with caution the few times she would bring it up herself, but it meant words always came slowly and with much difficulty when they would turn to it.

“That’s why today just can’t be my birthday. I want to be back with my mom by the time it actually is.” Akari kept handling the fabric of her scarf. “Because tonight I just kept thinking about how she was missing it. And I don’t know if I’ll be able to ever have something like that again. And I’m afraid that she thinks that too.”

“Oh, Miss Akari,” Ingo set down his own cup as she looked back up at him, sniffing with newly-misted eyes that threatened to well up. The sign that that was all she was going to say on the matter, and she was done. He opened his arm when she leaned closer to him, and she slumped into his side at the invitation, rubbing at her eyes to catch anything before it could fall. “I’m so sorry, I know you miss her dearly.”

A child separated from their mother. A mother who doesn’t know what happened to their child, or if their child is dead or alive, and is only more inclined to assume the former as time goes on. Except the child is not, and has no way to reassure the mother, or comfort her — no way to tell her she’s still alive, and that she hopes she doesn’t somehow suspect it’s her fault, and that she’s thinking of her every day while trying to find a way back to her.

It should not be this way.

But it is.

Ingo’s heart hurt; did he leave behind some terrible situation like this as well? Broken hearts and unanswered questions? It was easier for him to forget possibilities like this sometimes, when memories were not there to remind him of them.

“I do.” The teen settled more comfortably, rubbing at her eyes again when Ember reached up to lick at any stray tears. Her voice was shaky, but not uncontrolled — she took a deep breath to regain it. “It is really hard.”

Gears were turning in Ingo’s head, trying to figure something out. What could he say to this? She had been upset to the point of tears, and he wanted to comfort her. But he could not offer a promise to her, telling her she’d get back to her own time, see her mother again, and celebrate with her the way she wanted. Because as much as he wanted it to happen for her, he just did not know if it would. And Akari knew he did not know. Telling her something like that would just be empty, and maybe even painful. And he felt that lamenting the ghosts within white-out memories was a different kind of heartache compared to the vivid grieving over separation from one’s mother. Or maybe it was. But he didn’t know if in trying to console her with relatability, he would end up referencing too much loss, or not enough. What could he possibly-

“But it’s been easier. With you around.”

All the overworked lines speeding through Ingo’s mind halted. “...Oh?”

“I mean, you’re like the only other person in this entire world that can understand this whole thing right now. Like, really understand it. Even though I know they’ll listen, I don’t really know how to bring this stuff up to other people sometimes, because these aren’t things that anyone can really help.” Akari went on, seemingly not even noticing that he had mentally stalled. “Like I obviously couldn’t tell Rei or the Professor the party made me feel like this after all the time they spent putting it together for me, that would be terrible. And I don’t know how obvious it was, but I kind of took a long time working myself up to even tell you tonight. Even though to me, you’re like my, um…”

A very heavy pause as she mulled over her words.

“...I don’t know, my time-travel buddy here.”

Akari pet Ember as she talked, who by now had settled back into her lap, seeing as there were no more tears. Ingo found some appropriate humor in the title she gave him, but was otherwise quiet. She wasn’t finishing her sentences with a tone that suggested she was really done; it seemed like she kept wanting to say more but was cutting herself short.

“So… thank you for listening to all that. It’s just nice to have someone to talk to that really understands what I’m talking about.” Was all that came out instead, all that summarized her feelings on the matter. “I just wanna say I’m glad you’re here too, so I don’t feel so out of place, or lost, here.”

Ingo took in a breath, ready to thank her for such kind words and add in a reassurance that yes, he was there for her, but it seemed the moment of silence had led to quick reflection, then overthinking; Akari became noticeably flustered, suddenly leaning off of his shoulder to sit up straight.

“I mean, wait, no-” She stumbled. “I’m… I’m not saying I’m like, happy you ended up here just to make me feel more comfortable or anything, of course not! It’s terrible that it happened, especially the way it did! Obviously! I’m just-”

A pause to gather her thoughts.

“I’m… thankful I have someone else who can understand my situation, and helps me. And I’m not alone in this. Is what I’m trying to say. If that makes sense.” Akari finally killed her choppy ramble by taking a hasty sip of her tea.

“I understand,” Ingo tried to reassure the flush of embarrassment on the teen’s face; it hadn’t come across like that at all. “And as long as we’re being honest, I must admit I hold similar sentiments.”

He leaned his head back against the wall. Staring at the square of dim moonlight stretched across the floor from the window behind them, he watched the shadows that the rainfall projected as it came down outside. She told him she appreciated that he listened and talked through these things with her, but he hadn’t said much of anything yet. Well, now it was time to do that.

“I hope I’ve been transparent enough about just how much your arrival has changed my tracks for the better.” He started slowly, idly turning his cup of tea in his fingers. “From when I first arrived here until our routes crossed, I felt… entirely derailed. You know that. I’m even sure you can recall that disposition from when our tracks first crossed.”

“Yes,” Akari slowly allowed herself to settle back against his shoulder. She didn’t really give their first meeting much thought these days. Looking back, it felt polarizing to compare him to the man she had first been introduced to, now paling as distant and directionless in comparison to how he was now.

“But I’ve regained an amount of myself that I thought was indefinitely lost due to your assistance. I know that I lived in a time period comparable to yours, if not the very same — wouldn’t that be something?”

It had to be the very same, Akari just knew it was.

“I also know that I conducted many exciting battles alongside someone who enjoyed them just as much as I did, if not more. And I know that this someone was similar to me in many ways, and very dear to me. Perhaps family, from what I’ve gathered at this point. And while the identities and locations are still quite blurred, I’ve recovered many fragments that indicate I was fortunate enough to be loved by friends and family, seemingly up until my sudden derailment.”

Akari recalled the times when Ingo first remembered these things. When she first helped him recover shards of these cracked but significant recollections, whether purposely or accidentally.

He always cried.

Whether that was uncontrollably in the moment with her, or later in the evenings when he had resigned himself to the privacy of Lady Sneasler’s den, there were always tears.

She knew it hurt him to recall such loving, warm, comforting memories when all his situation did was serve as a reminder that it was out of reach, had been for a long time, and may still be for much longer. Questioning if it would ever be felt again by the same people who extended so much love to him, and he couldn’t even do them the decency of remembering their faces. Weaponized grief accusing him that it had all been taken for granted – that it hadn’t been appreciated enough back then.

Akari knew, because she would cry over similar things when she was alone at night, sometimes.

But she could do that. She was a teenager. Teenagers could cry.

Ingo was an adult. Adults could cry too, but it always felt harder to deal with when it was them. Especially when it was Ingo. Ingo, someone who always comforted her. Ingo, who didn’t cry.

At least, he didn’t before he started regaining these memories that she’d helped recover.

“But, it…” Akari looked down into her cup of tea, conflicted. In a way, she felt like Ingo was thanking her for simultaneously helping and hurting him. “I mean, it feels like-” She didn’t know how she wanted to phrase it. “-I know it hurts a lot sometimes, to remember. Would you… knowing what you know now, would you rather not have, um…”

It seemed Akari was becoming disheartened with the question, probably beginning to find it an insensitive question to ask. Ingo understood what she was getting at, and she realized that.

“Nevermind,” she finally ended the struggle and cut herself off. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I don’t mind.” Ingo reassured her. “It can be quite hard, yes, to know what I’ve been removed from. It weighs heavy on my heart when I stop to reflect on it. But I know I have something to return to now. And while it can be painful at times, it is, to me, a welcome change from the plaguing hollowness of loss and confusion. I would not have, well… myself without you, and for that I am immensely grateful.”

It was heartening to see his words put her at ease, but he realized he was getting off track from what he was trying to express.

“ Ahem, all of this is to say; likewise, Miss Akari, if I had any say in the matter, I would not wish for you to be displaced here either. Yet you are. And as unfortunate as it might feel sometimes, all one can do is make the best of their situation. And there was nothing either of us could have done about our destination, but your presence at this station is a pleasant one, both in company and agency.” Ingo cleared his throat. “I am thankful for our friendship.”

“Me too…” Akari sounded almost choked up again, her voice quiet. “ See, you always know what to say. Thank you.”

The ambience of the rainfall against the unit’s eave became prevalent as conversation died. They sat like that for a while. Whether listening to the rain or replaying the conversation in her head, Ingo didn’t know what it was that Akari was doing. But the relative darkness in the room, the internal warmth of the tea, and the relaxing pattering of rain against the roof outside was a very dangerous combination for him. His eyes were already growing heavy, he should probably get going before he falls aslee-

“Hey Ingo,” The warden started when he felt a bony elbow suddenly nudge him in the side. “When we both get back, I’m gonna have another birthday party, one on my actual sixteenth birthday, with my mom there so that she doesn’t miss anything this time.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Ingo yawned, sitting forward to help rouse himself from the weakening grip of sleep. She was treating an ‘if’ like a ‘when’, and he sometimes warned her about doing that, but he found that right now especially, he couldn’t not indulge her a little.

“Yeah, and it’s gonna have tons of balloons, streamers and confetti everywhere.” Akari leaned her head against his shoulder to look back at him. “Like so much, even five days after the party, you’ll sneeze and confetti will still come out.”

“Every proper birthday party needs that.” Ingo couldn’t help but huff a laugh through his nose at the visual she’d constructed. “What colors for the theme?”

“Everything’s gonna be blue, of course!” She knew that he knew her favorite color would be the only choice. “You know that! Oh, and also, one birthday cake that’s the size of two! To make up for the one that exploded today!”

“What flavor?”

“Chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry. So everyone can have a flavor they like. And-” Akari sat up and fully turned to him, like this next part was serious. “I'm gonna have every single one of my friends and family come. So that means you’re going to be invited too! And anyone else you wanna bring! I’ll get to introduce you to everyone there!”

Ingo smiled. Because it did sound nice, truely. But the small smile quickly dulled. Indulgence aside, he didn’t want to encourage setting herself up for hurt. “You know I would love to. And if I can, I certainly will. However… Miss Akari, I truly hate to bring it up, but please be mindful of what we’ve talked about. I wouldn’t want there to be… any hurt. In case our tracks do not run as close as expected.”

Hopeful prospects built upon skewed expectations are terribly vicious if time reveals those expectations are wrong. It would leave deep wounds if they did go back to their own times, only to be separated by a gate of decades that stretched so far, they’d only ever be able to assume that’s what had happened, and never know for sure. But it would hurt more if they had convinced themselves that would not happen and took that as fact.

And so Ingo did not.

And while Akari had said over and over that she did not either, he could tell that really, deep down, she did.

And all of this wasn’t even considering the very real possibility that Ingo might not have a ticket back home like she did. She had told him time and time again that she’d drag him back by the arm if she had to, and stop anything that tried to keep her from doing so, but… what was a teenager against the Unknown?

“I know, I know.” Akari said it with concerning brevity. “But we have to come from the same time. How could we not? You also know what Pokémon gyms are, and contests! And you actually know what double battles are, too. And you know what cellphones are, and pizza, and video games!”

“It is… convincing.” Even though it was more vague than anything that narrowed things down to decades, not a single year, Ingo decided to just leave it there for now. This was not something to talk about at length tonight. Not after all she had just told him.

“So you’re gonna need to come! I really want to introduce you to my mom. I know she’d wanna meet you after all you’ve done for me! Knowing her, she’d probably try and repay you with tons of home-baked things, and I need to warn you she’s going to hug you with the strength of an ursaring trap.”

“Ah, well now I know where you get that from.”

A quick, simple sentence said without much of a tone, but Akari caught the humor of it. She laughed into her tea. “No, hers are like three times as strong as mine!”

With her leaning into her cup, Ingo did not see the playful look she gave him in the stretch of silence.

“And, just thought you’d like to know, she’s single too…”

“O-oh-” Ingo found himself sitting forward suddenly, his ears steaming hot with sudden embarrassment at the implication. Arceus, of all the ways for her to confirm his suspicions that a father probably wasn’t present. Surely not- “I- no no, with all due respect Miss Akari, I don’t think that would-!”

“Kidding, kidding, I’m kidding!” The teen shouted in between laughs, pushing his shoulder playfully and giving him a big, stupid smile. “Geez, you’re always so easy! I know! That wouldn’t work anyways, you’re like… the weird, distant uncle I didn’t find out about until like a year ago, if anything.”

“Weird uncle?” Ingo snorted at the notion, perhaps a bit too loudly — he hadn’t been expecting that, but it was certainly less heart attack-inducing than the former proposition.

“Yes!” Taking his laughter as disagreement more than surprise, Akari shoved his arm again. “I mean, you let me do a lot of things that I don’t think responsible parents would let kids do-”

“Because I’m- I’m not your parent,” Ingo hastily tried to correct her, still somewhat processing the topic. “And I’m not letting you, I’m simply ensuring you’re performing the proper safety checks when doing them!”

One would have much more success trying to properly equip her with tools and knowledge than to try and stop her from doing anything she was set on doing. Anyone who knew Akari well enough would know that.

“Yeah, well, I know my mom would kill me if she knew of all the dangerous things I was doing, and you don’t. There.” The teen poked him several times to drive her point home. “That’s what uncles do. And, you respond to my jokes with more jokes, and you like all my pranks-”

“I wouldn’t say all of them,” Ingo squeezed in, shaking his head but allowing himself to laugh a little.

“-and you let me hang around you like every time I come by, and you listen to my problems, and you help me when I need it-”

“You make it out to be a chore, I assure you it’s not-”

“-and! And! I don’t know how you do it, but you can fall asleep anywhere within like, thirty seconds.” Akari started snickering, looking back at him to see his reaction. “You were doing it like two minutes ago! I’ve only ever seen three types of people do that.” She began numbering off with her fingers, “Dads, uncles, and grandpas. You kind of best qualify for the latter in that area because you’re like, super super old, but…”

“Hey!” Now it was Ingo’s turn to nudge her with his arm – she was already joking with him again. She laughed more freely this time, quickly settling back against his shoulder.

“Point is, you’re um, kind of what I wished my actual uncle would have been like when I was growing up… if that’s not too forward to say. You’re the weird, distant uncle. Except the weird is a good weird, and the distant part wasn’t your fault. I appreciate that you um, basically look out for me here. It helps with missing my mom.” She finished, ending it by returning to her cup for another long sip of tea.

What a confession.

Ingo had known she had grown very attached to him over the months, and he could not deny he had done the same. She had made it very easy, he supposed; her frequent company filled time that had previously been spent alone, and those times were much happier now. And while he had grown to feel some sense of responsibility over her – she did often follow advice or guidance from him anymore, so logically there was some responsibility there – but he hadn’t thought much past it. He never felt like he had to.

However, she basically just admitted she felt like his ward, if he could compare it to anything. He had not known she had grown to see him like that, exactly – he wasn't sure he even saw himself like that – or when that had even first begun.

But it was comforting, in a way. Whether he had a spouse or children before Hisui, he did not know – he very much doubted it, but realistically, he didn’t know for sure. And siblings? Or parents? The scratched-out faces and names that haunted his cracked memories never made it clear. Those people could have been family, but they could have also been just close friends, and while that was certainly family in its own way, it was… hard, not really knowing.

And although he certainly did consider the Pearl Clan his family in Hisui, eternally indebted to Irida and the rest of the clan for their kindness to him, the circumstances of his acceptance had unfortunately felt purely obligatory or pitiful by some. It felt... different. And he didn't know if that would ever change.

So it was nice to hear someone call him family.

Akari had never said that phrase explicitly, but basically confessing of her own volition that she saw him as a member of hers was, in all honesty, painfully consoling and cathartic.

Ingo realized he hadn’t said anything yet. He turned to address the teen; she was sipping the last of her tea, but her cheeks were pink now, eyes down as she pet Ember with her other hand – she had grown self-conscious of her vulnerability in his silent processing, perhaps thinking he didn’t reciprocate the proposed connection. Or worse, he thought she was clingy for it.

She had confessed everything to him that she’d held back earlier, hadn’t she?

“Well, I am glad to know I live up to the expectations then, Miss Akari.” He made sure to give her a smile, still turned down in the corners but clearly, genuinely happy with his eyes. “I believe the feeling is mutual.”

Very few words, but relieving and emotional all the same. Arms reached around his shoulders to give another steel trap hug. “Thank you. For that. And for talking with me tonight. I know I said it would be quick, but…”

“It’s quite alright. I’m glad we could talk as well.” Ingo picked it up when she trailed off, squeezing her back with an arm in a side hug.

Weird uncle.

Yeah, he supposed he could get used to that.

“Ok then, you’re definitely going to need to come to my real birthday party now, no way you can’t.” Akari finally let go of him. Ember leapt off her lap and onto the floor as she moved to stand up and collect both of their tea cups, now empty. “And you’re gonna have to start showing up to family barbecues too! And your own family’s gotta come too, so you can introduce them to mine, and we can get even more get-togethers!””

She was joking, but he could tell she also was not. Another pang of future uncertainty dampened the sentiments, but Ingo looked past it as he made his own move to get back to his feet, and help her put everything away. “I can certainly try my best to do so.”

Hmm. His own family too.

His heart ached. He did wish he could remember them. He found himself wanting to meet them just as much as Akari did, if not more. (Surely though, he did.)

A part of him once again wondered if they missed him the way he missed them. Or the way Akari missed her mother.

—————

“Thank you, Elesa. I know you didn’t have to.”

“Please, don’t even mention it! You know I’d never pass up another opportunity to drag you around with me.”

Emmet pulled his cap down over his eyes as he stepped out of his apartment to join his friend. After he locked the door, the two of them began to make their way down the stairs to the street below. “Though I’m happy to go with you, I'm sorry to hear about Skyla. That was very unfortunate timing.”

“It really was; she said she’s already feeling better, though! She just told me to tell you to enjoy the premiere for her.” Elesa hooked her arm around Emmet’s as they continued down the steps.

It genuinely had been unfortunate timing for Skyla to catch a cold only a few days before the premiere of Pokéstar Studios’ newest movie that Elesa had a part in. But even if she hadn’t, herself and Elesa had long before agreed that they were going to come up with an excuse to take Emmet in her place anyways.

His birthday was not until tomorrow, and while many things had been planned with friends and family to occupy the day with good times and love, Elesa did not want him confining himself to his dark apartment tonight. Things were often just as painful the day before, as well.

“Skyla’s name is on the ticket.” Emmet absentmindedly observed as she handed the decorated slip to him. The dozen pokeballs within his coat weighed heavy for a moment. “And all of my Pokémon will be there, not Skyla’s. Will I have to show them ID or something?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it when we get there.” She reassured him. “Again, last-minute stuff, but I can work that out pretty easily.”

“Mmm,” Emmet hummed. That seemed like it would be his only response. But as he continued to scrutinize the name on the ticket, he spoke up again. “It’s ok, Elesa. I know that this was not last minute.”

While she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, Elesa also couldn’t say this wasn’t unexpected. Emmet had always been very good at picking up on things.

She just didn’t want him to think this was being done out of pity or anything.

Which maybe part of it was, how could it not be? But moreso, Emmet was her friend. And she wanted him to have something to think about other than grief tonight.

“I’ve been saying it’s last-minute too much, haven’t I?” She asked, seeming a little rueful.

“Yes, you have.” Emmet sounded almost amused as they continued down the steps. If he was bothered, he certainly wasn’t showing it. “But you also have not said a thing to me about my birthday all week. That is verrry unlike you.”

Harassing himself and Ingo with silly cards, gaudy gifts, and at least one big activity the week of their birthdays. Making Ingo and Emmets’ birthdays a week-long, inescapable reminder of the big day they shared was Elesa’s style of celebration. Not this.

But to be fair, just like how this year was… a first for Emmet, it was a first for her too. It was a first for everyone. Emmet understood why she was walking on eggshells – their birthdays had very much been an Ingo-and-Emmet thing. One was not without the other, ever.

Except this year, it was.

It was understandable why people would be nervous to bring it up to him in all the ways they had before. They were afraid it would serve as a reminder that someone was not there anymore to celebrate it with him. And they were right, it would. But while Emmet appreciated the sensitivity, he didn’t want a careful birthday where everyone was afraid of how to handle him. It wasn’t intended, but it would be demeaning.

“I’m sorry, Emmet. I just didn’t really… know how to do it this year.” Elesa confessed what he had already known. They were practically at the bottom of the stairs now. “And I didn’t want to say or do anything that would be- I didn’t want you to be alone, or thinking of anything that’ll hurt right now. I just want you to feel as loved and appreciated as you are, not sad. Not on your birthday.”

“I do feel loved.” Reaching the bottom of the stairs and stepping onto the sidewalk, Emmet stopped so that they could talk face-to-face for a moment. “Tonight I was invited to an event that was very much not planned last-minute, with my dear friend, to see a movie that she is in. And tomorrow, I will get to spend the entire day with friends and family. And even after that, when I am back in my apartment, I have all of my Pokémon, who need me as well. You all do a verrry good job of making me feel loved. It is a good birthday already.”

“Oh Emmet,” Elesa let go of his arm to reach out for him. She settled into his shoulder as she gently hugged around his neck. Emmet reciprocated, arms secured around her back.

Emmet knew tomorrow was going to be different. Difficult, certainly. For the first time, only half of him would be there. The reminders were still daily and constant, but tomorrow they were going to be a little sharper, a little more poignant. He couldn’t avoid that. But he did not want to try and bury it – he had already slipped into that once before, and learned how destructive and painful it was. And he certainly didn’t want others to feel like they needed to as well for his sake. He was hurting, and a part of him always would regardless, but he was not fragile.

“And it is ok to talk about Ingo.” Emmet spoke into Elesa’s shoulder. “It will be his birthday tomorrow too. And even if he is not right here at this moment, I would not want him to be excluded from it.”

“Alright,” There was relief in the way she sighed, squeezing him a little harder.

“Thank you, Elesa.” Separating from the hug, Emmet gave her a reassuring smile, though it was not without a hint of melancholy. “You are a very good friend.”

At the edge of the sidewalk, a sleek black car pulled up to them and stopped, engine thrumming quietly.

“Oh, that’s for us,” Sniffing, Elesa carefully wiped at her eye and cleared her throat. “You know, Emmet, I’m really…” She stopped, seeming to think better of it. No more apologies or condolences for tonight, she was supposed to be cheering him up. “...I’m glad you could come with me tonight.”

“I am too, very much.” Emmet seemed doubly grateful for the lighter change of topic. He followed her as she led him over to the car, and opened the backseat door for her. “I have not gone with you to one of these in a while! Last time was several years ago when you took Ingo and me with you to see that terribly cheesy rom-com you had a cameo in.”

“Well, funny you should bring that up,” A bit of Elesa’s playfulness slowly began to show itself again, a smile brightening her features as she scooted across the seat to make room for him. “Because lucky for you, tonight’s movie is also a romantic comedy!”

“Blech!” Emmet made an exaggerated gagging sound as he stepped into the car after her, which sent Elesa into a fit of laughing while he closed the door. “I will be watching this for you, not for the romance!”

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liminalpebble · 24 days ago

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Jump Scares

AO3 Link

Eddie Munson x Femme reader. They just began dating and have only kissed so far. One-shot.

Movie night with Eddie comes with a new game from the dungeon master himself, and no matter who wins, Eddie's pretty sure you'll both come out of this with some Halloween thrills.

P.s. Sorry it's a little late for Halloween. I tried to write it sooner, but life interfered. I hope this is a nice relaxing treat (especially if you are also American and VERY anxious today, as I am). Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

Cw: very light discussion of horror movie violence. Fingering and male masturbation.

When you knock on the flimsy trailer door, you can already see a warm glow from the living room, filtered through the woven fabric of the curtains. The soft light illuminates decals of ghosts, demons, pumpkins and vampires stuck haphazardly across the pane of glass. You smirk. It's clearly Eddie's chaotic handiwork. It has him written all over it.

You're also curious. It's not often that Eddie is particular about drawing the blinds, and you wonder, with a sugary sweet buzz of anticipation, what he might be planning, what he might want to keep prying eyes from peeking at tonight.

You knock, then hear a low ruckus within. It sounds like a particularly gangly great Dane is tumbling through the house, but that's Eddie for ya. The door swings open violently, and there he is; all flushed cheeks, messy milk chocolate curls, and a dimpled grin that could charm anyone into absolutely anything.

“Hey Sweetheart!” he blurts and then drawls, “right on time.”

You giggle and kiss his warm face, lingering a little as his exothermic warmth thaws your chilly nose.

“What the hell is going on in there? A tornado?”

“Nah. Just Hurricane Eddie, at your service.”

His balmy hands find your cheeks and rub gently as he say, “Jesus, you're freezing, get in here!”

You were freezing. You knew it was really too cold to wear a skirt, but you couldn't resist the temptation of teasing Eddie with the sight of your curves, flattered by the garment. He takes your coat for you and hangs it up carefully (because he might be a chaos goblin but Wayne also raised him to be a gentleman).

As your coat slips off, you get exactly the reaction you hoped for. Those big dark eyes go wide, drinking in the sight of you in that cute little skirt and knee socks.

“Damn,” he gasps. His mouth hangs open as he struggles to retrieve the brain cells to elaborate.

You take pity on him and fill the void.

“You like it?”

“Like it? Baby, come on. You're killing me here. Those teens in the slasher flick might not be the only ones slain before the night is over.”

Then he dramatically rolls his eyes and clutches his heart, wobbling into a fake faint. You catch him by his skinny waist and hug it tightly, pulling him against you. You inhale deeply. He smells like Old Spice, and faintly of cigarettes, and the breath mints he chewed a little while ago in a weak attempt to mask it for you.

But you don't mind. It's the cocktail of him; tobacco, leather, the clean tangs of spearmint and cheap detergent, and the crisp autumn air he'd been out in most of the day, raking leaves.

“Did you just...sniff me,” he said with an amused chuckled.

“Yeah. I can't help it. I just love your smell.”

He nuzzles into your hair, returning the gesture with a deep inhale of his own.

“You little freak,” he says affectionately, and you give him a playful smack on the arm. “Anywayyy. I have a spectacular movie night planned for us, m'lady. Popcorn, candy, warm beverages and blankets...the works.”

Your heart melts as you notice the little coffee table in front of the sofa, loaded with a smorgasbord of buttery, salty popcorn, colorful gummies, and rich chocolates all arranged neatly in black and orange party bowls.

“Wow...Eddie...this...this is great!” Stunned, you turn to him and smother him in another grateful lip-lock. He breaks the kiss reluctantly and you whimper at the loss.

“Hold that thought!” he orders, as he scrambles to the VCR and gleefully pops in some Halloween-themed, heavy metal, B movie.

-------

It's a predictable campy slasher which neither of you will remember the name of. You certainly won't, not with his soft full lips on your neck the way they are now. You're both breathing heavy; handsy and eager as you make out.

“AHHHH!”

A prom queen screams as she falls victim to a plastic knife and spurts some suspiciously ketchupy looking blood.

You both jump at the blood-curdling screech, then laugh. “I'm so ashamed! I can't believe it actually made me jump! There goes my horror connoisseur cred, huh?” you bemoan to Eddie.

“Hey...give yourself a break. You were caught a little off-guard.” He pauses to kiss you languidly, his long candy-flavored tongue swirling deliciously in your mouth.

“You know...you, a little distracted and vulnerable. It's actually kind of cute. You're not usually the jumpy type but this is...I dunno...this is doing something to me. I...hmmm.”

His eyes go wide and he gives you that crooked grin, the one that says he's on to something, the one that no one on the planet could resist.

He rushes the words out, “I have an idea. Com'er.”

His warm broad palm finds its way to your waist as he tugs you close beside him, practically sitting you on his thigh facing the grainy flicker of the screen in the darkness. You squeak with surprise.

He gives a filthy little chuckle, “Sorry to manhandle you there, sweetness.”

“Mmm. I don't mind. Now what the fuck are you doing?”

He brings his lips close to your ear, kissing just beneath it then nipping playfully at the lobe, coaxing out a shudder. That warm hand with the chunky rings glides over the soft skin of your thigh, squeezes, then stills. You give him a quizzical look.

“Eyes ahead, baby,” he whispers, “Now, listen. Here's the rules of the game. Every time you jump, this hand...” he squeezes again, then runs the calloused tips of his fingers in relaxing circles over the soft flesh, “...will move justttt a little bit.”

He moves your hair gently with his nose and kisses that vulnerable spot just between your neck and shoulder. The move renders you helplessly limp against him, like a vampire's damsel victim in a black and white film.

“We'll see who's screaming by the end, hmm? Wanna play?”

You gasp then, smiling and nodding, squirming at the anticipation and tension.

“Alright, sweetheart. Let the games begin.”

To an outside observer, it would just look like a couple watching a movie together, innocently side by side swaddled in a shared blanket. That is, until you're startled a second time and his deft fingers slide up the fret board of your thigh, ever so slightly closer to where he's dying to play.

Then, the third jump scare. His hand moves further still, warm and solid and coming inexorably closer like the villain on screen, stalking his prey. The hand around your waist finds the hem of your sweater and toys with it, parts it like a theater curtain to draw soothing little shapes over your stomach, then your breastbone, like a wizard carving runes, casting a lulling enchantment. It's working beautifully on you and feels like sinking into a warm bath of tactile sensation.

His fingers find the little bow nestled between the cups of your bra. Eddie lets out a little snicker of laughter.

“Cute. Did you get this just for me? Be honest.”

“Uh huh,” you gasp, suddenly unable to form words.

“Mmm. I'm a lucky man then, but I hope you don't mind that I'm a lot more interest in what's underneath it.” He tilts your face so your eyes meet his, deep and dark as ink in the glow of the TV. “Can I touch you?”

“Please,” you hiss, in a high breathy voice of arousal you hardly recognize as your own.

His hand slides behind you. the clasps release one at a time with a gentle snap until he can slide beneath the silky band to your even silkier skin. Eddie groans with need, a deep rumble that you can feel where his chest is pressed against your back.

You close your eyes, head leaning back against him as he massages and teases the sensitive flesh. He leans over kissing you deeply, desperately, as his fingers toy with your stiff nipples, drawing out the most desperate sounds from you.

He pulls you closer and your legs fall wider, his thigh now nestled snugly between them. Denim rubs roughly against the slick material and the dripping lips underneath. Eddie groans again, canting his hips up against you until you feel his erection pressing hard against the curve of your ass.

“Feel what you do to me, baby? How hard you always make me? Did you know before we were even dating, as soon as you'd leave with everyone else, I'd run off to my room to handle this? Christ, I couldn't slam the door fast enough so I could jack off thinking of you.”

“Really?” you ask, preening and flattered at the high praise.

“Yeah,” he purrs, “Every fucking time. Surprised I never came in my pants like some horny little perv before I even managed to find some privacy.”

You whimper at his confession, the dampness growing between your legs. You're soaked, swollen and needy beneath your clothes.

“AHHHHH!” screams a doomed cheerleader onscreen, and you flinch.

A split second later, Eddie's hand eagerly buries itself between your legs. First, he kneads at your inner thigh, just outside of fabric of your underwear, and is delighted to feel your wetness has leaked there, giving him a luscious preview of what to expect.

“Ohhhh, good girl. You're so wet for me that it's spilling out. Jesus Christ, you're so hot.”

Eddie doesn't wait for another jump scare. He can't resist any longer and your needy squirms and moans only egg him on. He traces gently up your damp, shuddering thigh and slips under the hem of your ruined panties.

“AHHHHH!”

“Ahhhh!” you both echo in union and is seems like the movie is screaming it with you.

It's heaven, pure bliss, the way his clever fingertips swim against your contours, the lips of your pussy. You're blossoming open, dewy and ripe for him, inviting further.

“Lean over the table, honey,” he commands, and you oblige, parting the sea of plastic bowls as you make room to lay down, your ass exposed for him like a submissive animal.

A sharp smack finds your pliant flesh. You yelp and giggle with surprise as he kneads and massages. He slides your panties down and suddenly a wave of self-consciousness washes over you. You realize how totally exposed and vulnerable you are like this.

“Is...is it okay, Eddie?”

“Sweetheart,” he moans in awe, “it's absolutely perfect. God, you're perfect.”

It's surprisingly reverent, as are his fingers as he slides them inside of you, pumping and easing within. Then his finger finally finds your clit, drawing little circling presses. You melt onto the cool plastic surface while he fucks you with his talented hand.

You close your eyes and grip hard at the table, beginning to buck backwards, riding his fingers as your cunt grips around them .

“Mmm. Yeah...just like that. That's perfect. I gotta touch myself. I'm dying here.”

“Please. I wanna see you do it.”

He leans over and kisses you. “God, could you be anymore perfect, you little freak,” he mumbles against your lips.

You look over your shoulder to see Eddie, working at his belt, easing the edges of it down his hipbones along with those silly plaid boxers. You take it all in; the v of his slender hips, the sight of him gripping his thick flushed cock, the pattern of dark hair around it. It's beautiful.

He closes his eyes and does a few languish strokes against the engorged, sensitive skin. The tip is already leaking and he knows he won't last long, but then again, neither will you.

“Wanna come with me...hmmm? Want me to paint your skin with cum while I fuck you with my hand?”

“Yes yes yessss,” you whine. God, you need it and you need it now.

The final jock wails as he's slain, and you and Eddie scream with him. You clench like a vice, twitching and shuddering around his fingers. No sooner than you come, you hear the rhythmic thump of Eddie fist furiously pumping his cock as he groans and gasps, shooting ropes of cum over the skin of your ass, the curving small of your back.

For a moment, almost unbelievably, Eddie-never-shuts-the-fuck-up-Munson says nothing. You both just collapse and pant, catching your breath.

After awhile he chuckles and says, “sorry...wait a minute,” and cleans you up with some very festive paper napkins. You laugh with him.

Before long your snuggled back together on the couch under the cozy blanket, basking in afterglow while the credits roll. Eddie takes a deep satisfied breath and hugs you closer as you tenderly recuperate.

Then, to your surprise, he slide lower on the sofa until he's looking up at you from between your thighs, those dark eyes and toothy grin full oozing mischief.

“Waddaya say, pretty girl? Wanna make this a double feature?”

@sweetsigyn @leelei1980 @word-wytch @veemoon @elegantkoalapaper @ladyofthestayingpower @bettyfrommars @userchai @fairyysoup @babygorewhore @somnambulic-thing @munson-blurbs @hellfirenacht @take-everything-you-can @msgexymunson

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson one shot #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie loves Halloween #Eddie Munson x femme reader

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softguarnere · 1 year ago

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ok dove, my love, the writer I aspire to be bc your fics are actually 🤌 I was wondering if you could mayhaps appease my craving for a Joe Toye x sick reader fic? I'm quite literally dying of bronchitis and a double ear infection and I have done nothing but reread your work bc it's literally like drugs for me oml

anyway I hope you're doing okay and autumn treats you wonderfully!! <333

In Sickness and In Health

Joe Toye x reader

A/N: Hey Sky! You are too sweet, oh my goodness 🙈 Thank you so so much! I'm so sorry that you're sick, and I hope you're feeling better now 💕 Get well soon beloved, and I hope you enjoy this! (This is written for the fictional depictions from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) Also, just a reminder that my requests are closed; I wrote this as part of catching up on requests that were already in my asks Warnings: unspecified sickness

This isn’t how it was supposed to happen, you can’t help but think for the millionth time today. But no, every time you think about your original plans for the weekend, the temperature of the room feels even hotter, the pinpricks of sweat on your brow and neck even more prominent, and the pain in your stomach even worse.

“Joe,” you sigh when the man in question takes a seat on the bed, making the mattress at your feet dip under his weight.

He holds up a hand, stopping your sentence in its tracks. “Don’t you dare apologize again.”

His voice is gentle, but you can’t help leaning back onto your pillow and sighing. Because you are sorry. Really, really sorry, for just about everything you can think of. The fact that you travelled all this way for your husband’s reunion with his old army buddies, only to get sick the night before; that he’s taking care of you when he should be catching up with old friends and reminiscing over memories; that he won’t listen to you when you insist that he can leave you here.

“You should go see your friends.” They’re probably all down at the hotel bar by now. Even though the reunion won’t officially start until tomorrow, some of them are probably pregaming.

“I can’t. Not when I’m taking care of you. I made a vow, remember? In sickness and in health.”

I really do have the perfect husband, you can’t help but think to yourself. How many other men would shrug it off, or sneak away once you were asleep? Strange, how the roles have been reversed here, with you insisting that he go, that you can fend for yourself.

You sigh again. “I just – I feel bad. We came all this way to see your friends, and all you’ve gotten to see so far is the inside of this hotel room.”

But Joe only shrugs. “Well, the reunion doesn’t even start until tomorrow. Maybe you’ll feel better by then. We’ll just see what happens. Besides,” he rushes on before you can continue. “A lot of the guys live in Pennsylvania anyways. If we want to see each other, we can just make the drive some other time.”

“But Joe,” you stress. “This is the Easy reunion. This was important to you.”

“You’re important to me,” he deadpans, but his eyes are soft. “I won’t be able to enjoy any of it if I’m worrying about you the whole time.”

Oh. You had been so caught up in worrying about him enjoying himself that you hadn’t even considered that. Maybe the combination of the sickness and the medicine has clouded your judgement. Or maybe just your love for him has.

“You should rest,” Joe suggests. “Do you want me to get you anything?”

You want for him to hold you, to make you feel better. But unfortunately, there are some things in the world that not even a man as strong as Joe Toye can fight off, and sickness is one of them.

The two of you have been together for quite some time now, though, and he knows you well enough to read your mind. Without even asking, he kicks off his shoes, adjusts his prosthetic leg, and curls up beside you on the bed, wrapping you in his arms.

“Let me know if you get too hot,” he whispers. When you nod, he repeats his sentiment from earlier. “Don’t worry, okay, (Y/N)? We’ll see what happens in the morning.”

The morning feels like such a distant time. Right now, the only time that means anything is that which you spend in his arms.

#joe toye #joe toye x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fanfic #my writing #tumblr friends #sky 🌌

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neetily · 3 months ago

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꣑୧ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── MATCHUP EVENT: Date #1

♡ cupid's victim number one !! ♡ (psst, wanna take part? click here!)

thank you soooo much for taking part in the event my love! i super appreciate all of the information you sent my way, as it made matching you that much easier! i think i have a good idea of who might be most suited for you... i hope you agree ♡ !! or at the very least, that you enjoy my reasonings hehe...!

─ you have one new message from...

Sebastian . . .

y'know, i really enjoyed our date last night... keep thinking back to how pretty you looked from my angle. hope thats not weird to say lol... anyway, how about the same come friday? promise to make you feel even better x

Why? the fact that you both have similar personalities types was the first thing i noticed! in that you both appear to favour being alone and more introverted than others, and that you both offer straight forward, honest discussion. i think you and sebastian would get along great in a platonic sense, but especially romantically, able to understand each other almost instantly because you share a similar personality! and it only gets more in tune the longer you spend time together! the fact that you both have a rather direct way of communicating is only a bonus, i think... leaving no room for error or miscommunication, easing both of your anxieties. i can imagine you both having the kind of discussions with each other that you might struggle to have with anyone else, simply because he's the only one who gets it, y'know? also, i think you two would do so well at bringing out what the other feels like they're lacking, if that makes sense? seeing the best in each other, offering support and helping each other become the best versions of yourselves! where he might struggle to initially accept physical affection, you'd help him grow more accustomed to it in time <3 and where you might struggle with low self esteem, sebastian would do his best to openly and honestly build you back up! you can rest assured that he'd never lie to you. oh!! i almost forgot, the fact that you're also big big NERDS (affectionate) together means that you'll never run out of things to say to each other/do together, because he'd love to indulge you every chance he gets! also hello?? matching gamer skins in game B-)...

i can imagine you both getting all snuggly during the colder months together, given that you both enjoy autumn/winter months! spending late nights just existing together, enjoying the peace and quiet that comes from each others company. you are his safe space, just as much as he is yours. introvert x introvert, he appreciates just how easily you'd understand him, and how he needn't have to put on a faux show for you ever! content enough in each others company, i feel like your whimsical nature would bounce so well off his more logical outlook on life.

though i do believe that you two are more similar than different, opposites do attract! and i think where your differences lie together only help strengthen the bond!

Night (A)f(t)er the museum. . .

in truth, it's a miracle that he's been able to last as long as he has with you today. seething the second you started rattling off facts, one after the other in rapid succession, that pretty twinkle in your eye when passing by the larger than life exhibits at the museum catching his attention far more often than he cares to admit. and your voice, all rushed and excited, tripping over itself just like your feet did when you tugged on him to hurry up, we're gonna miss the special showing! that he didn't even know existed; but that he quickly learned he, too, was excited for. especially if it meant getting to stare at you instead, nursing a half chub the entirety of the day thanks to your incessant babbling, god. you've got no idea just how hot you look when indulging, how painful it's been for him not to jump you the moment he was left alone with you in grand halls and hidden corners of the museum.

"c'mon—" he finally heaves against you, cheeks squished against your soft, sticky thighs, only taking a brief break to goad you, because he's got far more important things to focus on at the moment. "tell me again," another pause soon cut short, tongue flat against your sopping slit to suckle on some more of that sweet taste, a heady groan escaping him as he takes a brief huff of your scent, fuck— he can't stand it, how all it takes for him to get going is to simply listen to you talk. and it'd be wholly pathetic if he didn't feel the way your hole twitches around his tongue every time he slips it inside of you, you know how down bad he is, and you like it, don't you?

"Tell me what your favourite thing at the museum was today, again, please." he manages to rasp out, begrudgingly so. he doesn't wanna stop.

but honestly, he's not even fully listening to your reply. catching mumbles of dinosaurs and something about guessing which was which; he's already heard it in depth before. on the ride to the museum, at the museum, on the way home, at home— he could probably recite exactly what you're saying, and what you've been saying, back to you word for word by now. but fuck if his cock isn't rock hard just from hearing you talk about what you love, bobbing between his legs as his nails dig into your thighs, pulling them apart, spreading you wide open for his tongue to lap and suck at your puffy little clit as you at least try to answer his mundane question properly, but he makes it difficult for you.

the relatively boring and routine conversation has his tummy filling up with butterflies, flipping at the way you so desperately try and try and try to keep up with him, but your voice ends up all pitchy and crackled with choked out moans, and he honestly feels a little dizzy with just how much blood rushes to his cock to leaving his tip a drooling, throbbing mess for you. you could say anything at this point and he's sure that just from the way his cock jerks and twitches from between his legs every time he swallows another gulp around your clit, fucks his tongue deep into your cunt, that he'd cum on the spot.

it only makes matters worse for him that you're talking about something you love, because there's something so incredibly attractive to hear you struggle with his flicks, making out with your cunt with sloppy sucks and messy kisses; he's sure that his chin is stained all tacky with your slick by now, and yet he doesn't stop. because you're still talking, and he's so fucking thankful that you picked todays date spot.

if only because he gets to make you feel good while you talk about what makes you happy, making sure to thumb at your clit with imprecise circles as he tongues the slick from your hole directly, moaning openly at the taste and sending vibrations up your pretty little pussy with furrowed brows. your voice is but mere background noise at this point, and yet he still loves it. can still feel the way his cock pulses with need, humming out mumbled words of praise and affection and fuck he's so close— and you haven't even touched him yet! in fact, all he's really done is eat you out a little, hitting that sweet spot rhythm he knows you enjoy with wet kisses against your hole and it's no surprise that he's cumming with you, still focusing mostly on helping you ride out your orgasm as opposed to milking his untouched cock.

but what can he say.

he just loves seeing you happy and confident, loves to hear you be so self indulgent, without worry or fear over being weird or annoying. he loves it, and every part of you too.

— you like to... listen to music when alone! here is a personalised playlist that i think fits your matchup! ♫ Fitz And The Tantrums - Out Of My League ♫ Stephen Sanchez - Until I Found You ♫ Matt Maltese - As the World Caves In

Alex . . .

ya better get your ass back to the farm soon as, babe. especially after your display last night, fuck meee... hurry on home, will ya? xxx

Why? because alex is just so so sweet, isn't he? big, strong, and reliable Alex who owns plenty of farmland for you to spend your days on... what's not to love? honestly, i think alex would be really good for you mostly because he's so opposite of how you are, but above all else, he's kind, yknow? so the differences don't seem so huge when you think about it, because it's second nature for him to soften the blow and to coddle you when he sees fit, versus pushing you. though he does push you when he needs to which is key! he's not afraid to give you that little extra boost when you need it, even if you find it difficult to swallow in the moment. he also matches your high energy bursts very well i think! he'd be so silly and goofy with you without even questioning it, able to make a fool of himself to maybe compensate for your down periods. he's also a big yapper which i think would compliment your more introverted personality well! doesn't matter if you're more naturally quieter than him, he'd babble on an on about anything and everything, but especially about just how much he loves you, how you're worth more than you think, how he loves you more than anything in the whole wide world, all in an attempt to help build up your self confidence and esteem as much as possible </3 he'd do so literally any chance he gets! not only through his silly words, but especially through his touch! big bear hugs, lots of fluttering nose kisses, grabbing you with such ease in his big strong arms to spin you around just because. in turn, i think you would help ground alex a lot. be that grip on reality he so sorely lacks sometimes; because while i understand that he might grasp the gravity of his situation on the surface, i believe he prefers to avoid his problems first and foremost. you'd do so well at helping him grown and learn how to deal with things without it becoming too overwhelming with how honest and direct your communication style is! i just think he'd find it so easy to adapt to whatever you need, y'know?

i'd imagine living on a farm, far away from society and its judgements, would be a blessing to you, right? better yet with your wonderful amazing himbo husband right by your side <3 you'd benefit from living off the land so much i think, and with alex's consistent help, you'd blossom. he'd be so proud of you, and remind you of that fact every day to try and encourage you some more <3! and he would appreciate your ability to help him calm down, relax him, and give him that stern talking to he so often needs!

plus, imagine all of the yummy treats you could bake during autumn together given his farm land! he'd plant you whatever you wanted, so long as it made you happy!

Work of art. . .

despite how much work and effort he puts into maintaining his trained muscles, exercising his strong physique whether he wants to or not thanks to his line of work, his legs still ache to stay open for you. not because it's too much effort for him, but rather, because you're too cute, and he has to fight with himself not to ruin the moment. that, and he likes to pride himself on being a strong man, especially for you... and yet, he feels weak in the knees upon the sight that greets him when his fluttering lashes finally open, a sheepish smirk making its way to his lips at the way your cheeks appear to be so full.

A soft, barely audible pretty slips past his tongue, drawled out with a moan when you swallow around his tip that's pressed right against the back of your throat— oh, but it's so true. you look so pretty like this, the idle late afternoon sun dancing across your cheeks so lazily, lulling him into a sense of comfort that only you could provide him on his little break from work.

well, he had only intended for this to be a short break anyway. a quick little hang out, teasing you with tight hugs and brisk ass pinches; nothing too risqué, but enough to have you swatting his hand away with a giggle. there it is, that pretty smile he oh so adores! and he was content with this. spending time with you is precious, and he never excepts anything from you.

but alas, when you pout up at him for a little more attention, reminding him that you aren't able to stay at the farm tonight and that soon you'll have to head home, well... he can't quite decline you, can he? not when your idea of ending the perfectly tranquil at home date includes having his legs spread for you to drool at, a light thud ringing in his ears as the old wooden floorboards from under you soak up your dripping saliva.

"slut," he sneers down at you, tone light-hearted at best, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes roll back just a little at the demeaning name. "strugglin'?" he's quick to follow up, but it's obviously not a question, not when you sputter and choke on the end of his cock when he lifts his hips up the smallest amount, inadvertently shoving his cock further down your stuffed full throat as a knowing hum rumbles in his chest. "y'like that anyway, dont'cha? c'mon, y'can take it— y'wanted this, right?"

still, his expression is one of adoration, in spite of his otherwise harsh words. a hidden reprimand behind the easy smile he wears, doting down at you from above with hearts in his eyes when you tentatively start to bob up and down— slowly, that's it, fuuuuck.

no matter what he ends up doing with you on date night, he always has the time of his life. buuuut, he can't deny that getting to degrade you from his holier than thou position on his favourite armchair as you slobber all over his fat cock is perhaps, no, is his favourite way to end things. made all the better because of how much he loves you, how he wants for nothing more than to make you feel loved; and yet here you are getting off to his tutting tone and forceful juts of his hips. pretty princess likes it when big strong men are mean to her? baby, he thinks you're too cute for your own good!

which is to say that he understands it now. might not have in the beginning, fearful of hurting you— physically and emotionally, but he finally gets it. mimicking your pretty pout back at you only to bark down laughter at the way you try to cough around his size, the feeling of your tongue squirming around his cock as if trying to find space as opposed to sucking him off sends a shiver down his spine, only causing his hips to stutter a little more for you. like you meant for that to happen, right baby?

"Good girl—" He moans for you, all breathy and exhausted from the hard days work so far, his tired muscles melting into your sucks and licks so nicely, he can't help but to grasp at the back of your head in return. fuckin' slut probably enjoys it anyway, right? you like it when he's a little rough with you, giving in to his more primal instincts as he holds your head in one place for a second or two.

he, too, pauses for a moment. admiring the way your eyes widen at his touch, how your body trembles with anticipation. fuck yeah, this is by far his favourite date yet. and he can't stop a genuine compliment from spilling out at the realisation.

"prettiest picture ever, like a work of art..."

and he means it, even as he starts face fucking you without warning and your vision gets all glassy and drool foams at the corners of your mouth for him to fish hook at, turning you into a genuine fuck toy from how unfairly he treats you; just like what you've asked of him. and he'd do anything to make you feel good about yourself, even if that's something like this. because he can see the way you squirm with pleasure and he can hear the way you gag on sobs, tugging desperately at your hair to help get you off faster— cause he's close. you and that fucking tongue, god, he'd kill for you, y'know?

it's only a couple seconds after catching you fingering yourself—because he doesn't have the mind to tend to you himself right now, jaw slack with whines and muscles taut with broken restraint—that he can feel your body seize up. taking advantage of the opportunity you so kindly offer him to hunch over you now, cock right down your throat for him to pump against once, twice... he's never actually made it to three strokes with you.

"drink up," he sighs as he shoots ropes down your tight throat, deep and heavy gulps of air as he attempts to catch his breath for you. "it's what pretty sluts get for being so good."

— you like to... listen to music when alone! here is a personalised playlist that i think fits your matchup! ♫ Arctic Monkeys - I Wanna Be Yours ♫ Paramore - Still Into You ♫ WILLOW - Wait A Minute!

#thankyouevent #you can't convince me that they wouldn't send kisses ok x #really hope i haven't missed out anything or forgotten anything...!

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usmsgutterson · 1 year ago

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Hello! I saw that you have your requests open! Could you do one with Aaron Warner and him and reader just have a slow fluffy morning? Maybe it be winter and it’s snowing because I’m missing the cold weather with this horrible Texas heat that practically makes me melt just thinking about going outside 😭

Snow- A.W x gn! reader

Hi, I am so sorry that this took me forever! Thank you for sending it in, though, it's been very warm where I am too so writing a fic set in winter was oddly refreshing while waiting for the light, breezy air of autumn to kick in.

Anon, if you're reading, I hope you enjoy this one and again, I am so sorry for how long it's taken to be written and put out!

Fic type- fluff

Warnings- a mention of murdering someone (the reader tells aaron that they'll kill someone if he tries to rope them into leaving the house in the beginnings of a storm) aaron might be a little ooc, and this is also unedited

The first thing that you registered as you woke up was the sound of snow falling so delicately against your windowsill. The second thing you registered was Aarons arm around your waist, his chin against your shoulder, and the feeling of the blanket you'd tossed over yourselves in an attempt to negate the cold, sitting just beneath your elbow as you woke and found it was morning.

You blinked, gaze turning to the curtains and finding they were slightly open, giving yourself a clear display of the snow as it fell to the ground. It was the first snow of the season, and judging by the fact that a storm was suspect, you anticipated that you wouldn't feel motivated to do anything that day.

You knew that Aaron, for all of his efforts with the Resistance and everything he, Juliette, Kenji and the others had accomplished in the time leading up to that day, would appreciate the day of relative nothingness.

The two of you had taken the day off as it were, so even though you'd planned to at least try to do a few things, you knew that nothing very relevant would be done, but you didn't mind that. There could be days of productivity later, but as you turned your gaze to your beloved, ran a hand along the line of his jaw, you decided that that day would not be one of them.

"Good morning, love," Aaron said as he woke.

"Hi," you said, pressing a kiss to his jawline as he pulled you in closer. "Seems like we're in for a storm, so if you try to rope me into leaving this house while we're in the beginnings of it, I might genuinely kill somebody."

That incited the glorious sound of his laughter. "All right, then," he said. "We were due in for a lazy day anyway."

You got up, catching his grin and laughing a bit when he hugged you from behind as you left your bedroom, headed down the hall for the stairs, and moved to the kitchen.

You made your coffee in contented silence, with Warners chin against your shoulder, his arms around your waist, and the cold still biting at you slightly.

You'd long learned to cherish mornings like those, ones where you made coffee and set up the gramophone and grabbed books off of your shelves to read to each other, a blanket draped over your legs while your feet rested in Warners lap and one of his hands ran up and down your calf idly.

And, as you made your coffee and laughed with Warner in between quick kisses, you knew that that morning was going to pan out just like those days did, and you simply couldn't wait.

Mornings like those were few and far between but, with coffee and the impending snowstorm, you knew and Aaron knew that it was going to be a good, relaxing day.

It was one you couldn't wait for.

#aaron warner #aaron warner x reader #shatter me #shatter me series

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r0-boat · 6 months ago

Text

Corn maze

Oc Holt x Gn! reader

This took way too long to get out! Aaa

Anyway I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to see more of my OCs check either the old master lists or the OC master list

Cw: NSFW, name calling, exhibitionism, semi public sex, inappropriate boss employee relationship, dub con, mentions of breeding, biting, Gn! Reader character uses the word pussy as a derogatory term.

The golden glow of the sunset casts its orange light over the farm. The chilly autumn wind begins to set in as the last of the blue moon acres guests begin to peer out from the tall cornfield.

Acres of corn that took half the season to grow, but it was worth it for what your boss was trying to do. A little Halloween treat for the kids and a cheap tactic to get their parents' cash.

A corn maze. It sounded easy enough. Collect $5 to come in, and when they reach the end, they are awarded with a small little goodie bag. Out of all the money-making schemes that Holt has cooked up, You have to admit this is a lot better. It beats dressing up pretty for a photo shoot or, God forbid, whatever happens in spring.

But that doesn't mean you'd still cooperate. Oh no, as soon as he finished setting up the booth, you were long gone. Listening to screaming kids as they drag their parents into the tacky maze.

Where were you? Somewhere in the maze, at one of the many dead ends, sitting criss cross on the soft hay bale, glued to your phone.

Was this professional? Nah. Did you care? Nooope.

So glue to your screen trying hard to watch videos as the cell service out here was God awful You only just noticed a shadow casting over you. When you looked up your heart jumped out of your chest.

"So this is where You have been…"He says with a smile that's freaking you out. His eyes were dead from an 8-hour plus work in the hot sun. You are so stunned you stayed silent. Your eyes wide with fear as Holt just circles you. "Nice hiding spot huh? In a dead end really far from both ends of the maze…"

You put your phone up getting up from your seat "Holt I-"

"What- sorry I went off to play on my fucking phone while you work your ass off for hours?" He sneers before letting out a deep chuckle "no sweetheart. You're going to get it for skipping out on work. And you are going to give me a reward for covering your ass."

Before you could even plead He demands "turn around bend over the hay bale."

"W-what?"

"Ya heard me, bitch, I'm stressed the fuck out, and you're going to help me with it. I won't say it again. Turn around, drop those pants, and bend. Over."

A shiver runs up your spine, and you obey, messing with the buttons on your pants. They fall to the floor as you bend over the hay bale. You spread your legs apart; your boss hums at the view, his rough, calloused hands grab at your soft ass cheek as he spreads you open; he whistles, "fuck, I missed this hole."

With his two fingers, he licks and sucks, covering them in saliva before playing with your entrance.

"Mm! H-Holt-Please!" You moan, feeling his two fingers beginning to part your walls.

Holt spanks your ass with his hand callused against your soft skin; it hurts like hell. He hisses, "That's not what you call me when I'm fucking you."

"Sorry, sir." You whimper

"Yes, Good, Fuck, that honey-like voice of yours is turning me on. Feel that?" Holt purred, pressing his crotch against your ass. You could feel His bulge right up in between your cheeks. "That's what you do to me."

You can't help but buck against his hand as he slides deeper. His fingers begin to move slowly, working you more and more open.

"I want to fuck you now, but I know your little bitch pussy won't handle it." He laughs, his hand beginning to speed up. His fingers curl into that spot that makes you scream "yeah get louder! No one's here anymore babe. Get nice and loud fo' me." You feel yourself getting close until to your annoyance you whine feeling his fingers slide out.

"Quit your yapp'n I'll fill you up with somethin bigger."He growls hitting you again on the ass before messing with his belt buckle. He slides it down just enough for his cock to spring free. You arch your back feeling the tip gently press against your entrance. He smiles feeling you eagerly fuck against his hips trying to press yourself further and slide.

"I love eager little livestock like you." He growls, hand slides underneath your shirt to fondle your chest, before just ripping off your shirt entirely, So he could pinch and play with your chest whenever he wanted.

You have no idea what you do to him, Your scent alone makes him drool, He could hardly think around you. And you have no idea how much he stares at your body wanting nothing more than to slide inside you every chance he gets. He needed this! It was your fault for turning him into an animal in rut and you need to pay your dues.

Despite his big size and the tight squeeze he forces you to take it, filling you up to the hilt at least he waits before beginning to move. That was the only courtesy he gave you. Holt's hips slammed back into you. You covered your mouth with your hand to muffle your moans.

Holt would not have that! He yanks your hand away grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them to your back. as the other grabs your plush thigh holding you down for him to use you. "Don't you dare cover your mouth! Scream! No one but the cattle is here, So fucking scream!" Using both of your arms He pulls you back into him with each thrust. Holt was in complete control; you can only squirm and scream underneath him.

If only you were part of his herd, He thought. Cute little cow hybrid, obedient and desperate for his attention. He would make sure your properly cared for every day, milked and fucked. He had to admit for a human, You are quite cute. Small and plush, yet so feisty, so bity.Even now as your eyes roll back, hair messy, covered in straw and your own drool, naked and exposed for only him to see is he was fully clothed breeding you like the sow you are. Not so disobedient now when you're filled with cock.

The scent of you, him and sex. Even if they were hidden in a corn maze. The other hybrids on the farm no doubt know what's happening. As they should. They need to know that you're his.

He will mark you inside and out with his scent.

You hate your boss, You hate that he uses you like some toy, And you hate how good his dick feels, huge, thick and veiny sliding against every spot, You love when it throbs inside of you.

"Sir! Sir I'm so close!" fuck he just loves when you call him that. "Good little cow I'll fill you up so good!" His pace speeds up chasing his orgasm wanting desperately to cum with you to feel you squeeze and milk his cock as he squirts deep inside you. His hands now pinning you down to the hay bale feeling his teeth grays against the back of your neck as he threatens to bite down.

You feel a sharp pain as you feel him fill you. The pain from his fangs breaking your skin mixing in with pleasure of his dick pumping in and out of you with each grind of his hips making you cum. You thought he was going to pull out and leave you but to your surprise, He flips you into your back, Your eyes meeting his wild eyes and wicked smile as he started moving lifting your legs over his shoulders.

"I'm not done! You are going to be a good fleshlight and take it"

#oc x reader #oc: holt #original character x reader #werewolf oc #farmer oc #bullfarmau #original character fanfiction #oc smut #smut #no beta we die like men

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shmowder · 5 months ago

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It was such a treat to read your Yulia hcs!! Earlier you'd made a post wondering what your writing feels like to others. Sometimes I'd liken it to bubble gum - like a big gumball I just want to bite into and chew for a long time (don't worry, it's a magical gumball that doesn't lose its flavor).

The Yulia hcs were like a pastry with powdered sugar and cream (no doubt this is influenced by you mentioning the pastry at the beginning) - something delicate. Like snow falling in a snow globe and like a warm hug at the same time. Lovely ♡ I appreciate that you always take care to mention her leg as well.

I love both kinds of food!!!!! Thank you for taking the time to write my requests :) <3

Ooh, ships! I haven't ventured very far into any Patho ships tbh! I know the big one is Daniil x Artemy ofc. I'm really hoping that the Marble Nest and P1 will help me connect with Daniil more. And I do enjoy Artemy x Aglaya.

What I meant was more along the lines of what personality traits in a reader would make them a good match for those characters? Uhh I cannot phrase this to save my life. In your Victor x reader fluff, you said that a stubborn confident reader would do well with him, so something like that!

But you basically answered my question anyway ^^ "Someone who can stand her enough to live together" for Yulia lmfao. Your description of Peter and Yulia is killing me. This too is #girlrotting.

I'm interested to see how Yulia x Eva plays out in P1 or if it's just mentioned in passing. Somebody on reddit described Eva as "a dreamer without a dream" - I barely know her but that seems to match up with what you're saying and I LOVE that phrase.

I see both of your Bad Grief visions and I've actually seen some vaguely shippy Victor x Grief art before.

I'm not too invested in any ships. If you want to know something terrible... I've briefly entertained the idea of Big Vlad x Artemy........ if he didn't always call Artemy "my boy" and if other characters weren't frequently accusing Artemy of being like, owned by him or whatever, then I wouldn't be like this..... it's the guard dog trope. Obviously this would have to be in an alternate universe where Artemy's dialogue choices didn't strongly imply he's not on board 😆 Well, there's my cursed opinion of the day.

🐿️ anon

Oh! I'm sorry, i must have misunderstood your request then.

Here is what I think the "ideal" Reader for each character would be:

Katerina Saburova

Someone who would never lose faith in her no matter how dire her state becomes. To see her value hidden beneath the role she failed to play, the responsibility she failed to fullfill and the Misteress she couldn't amount to.

To understand her pain, take it from her shoulder and carry it before her collarbones crack. Wipe her tears and tell her it will be okay, allow her the small relief of medicine and never judge her because her cruel harsh mind already does that.

She knows she is a mess, she knows her addiction to morphine is wrong. Moments of lucidity sneak up on her from time to time, the guilt suffocating and the shame like razors dragging down her throat.

She is aware of what the town people whisper behind her back, of her ruined reputation. Don't become one of them too, please, more than anything she needs a friend right now.

Someone to love her unconditionally, but also someone to take the difficult steps her in stead. To hold her and comfort her as withdrawal set her nerves on fire and her nails dig into her skin.

To make her forget about this damned town or her barren womb, grant her a moment of genuine peace, a facade of normalcy. Take her outside, let her remember the smell of fresh air, pluck stray dandelions to gently tuck between her hairstrands, keep her warm in your arms as the chilly autumn winds breeze by.

Remind her how life was before all of this madness, who she was. Katerina can't even recall her own hobbies or interests, she is lost and only she can save herself.

So at least be there for her, show her that there is more to life. Be gentle, never cruel. Be patient and never judgmental. Be loving and never afraid.

Yulia Lyuricheva

As pathetic as it might sound, Yulia just wants one soul who will stand her enough to spend time together, to live in the same house and share bread and a bed.

She is often quiet around other people, she learned to be. She had to. Being too much was her curse for this lifetime, apparently. Ever since she was young, she quickly understood how saying the wrong things would tremble down the fragile foundation every relationship is built on.

Yulia likes most people, believe it or not. How can she not when everyone is so interesting and unique? Every single person is the accumulative of all the choices and paths they picked during their lifetime. A coin toss of fate during every decision, red strings weaving into a whole person, scouplting their personality out of clay from their history and experiences.

Most humans are interesting and rather adorable. She enjoys observing them, making notes, and connecting the dots. Appreciating the work of art, mathematics' creation.

Each of them like naive children in a playground, pretending to know what they're doing as they wear their adult clothes and go to their adult jobs. Pretending there is some inherent meaning in it all, as if life isn't one big joke, and a rather tactless one at that.

Yulia couldn't fool herself like them. She couldn't play make-believe. She ran by facts and hard evidence, numbers never lied and the grim reality was that humanity's whole existence is just one big coincidence. A blep in the universe, a speck of dust amidst the galaxies and stars.

People didn't like being reminded of those facts, that every birthday is simply one inch deeper into the grave.

Damn her cursed tongue and restless mind.

Therefore she watered herself down, remained content with being an observer. Never causing harm or annoying others, mild mannered and keeping to herself. Isolating, suffocating, forced to be the only victim subjected to the dark corners of her mind.

When the abyss started to whisper to her back, Yulia turned to smoking.

She wants someone who would want her, all of her. The good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. Someone to admire her brilliant mind while remaining strong in the face of her occasion episodes of apathy. Someone who will understand or at least sympathise why she hasn't cleaned her room in weeks, why old coffee mugs are rotting on the table, why she barely opens the windows in her home.

Why she simply cannot bother to exist on some days, dissociating as she blankly stares out the window, or at a wall or an equation drawn on the chalk board.

Why the clocks in her residence require frequent repairs, courtesy to being smashed against the wall in a swift motion when their ticking starts making her ears bleed.

Could someone even stand her when she cannot stand her own self on most days? Could someone love her as she is? Or is she really irredeemable, cursed since birth.

She may seem smart, but she is prone to rather stupid impulsive decisions from time to time. Indulging life risking experiments out of curiosity because she might as well go down in her own style rather than wait for time ungratefully reap her soul.

Someone who will get her out of bed on the days where the idea of chewing food seems too exhausting.

Yulia doesn't want someone who will gift her meaning and a purpose on a silver plate, rather she'd like for you to kindly hold the candle and shine the light so she may find her way herself. It's been years, and she's gotten used to living in the dark.

Be sympathetic but not overindulgent. Be forgiving and not vindictive. Be her shoulder to lean on but still let her walk on her own two legs. Steady her steps but do not lead her or attempt to diverge her path.

Peter Stamatin

He might make it seem like he needs a muse, that a shiny new thing is what will get him out of this rut.

But it won't, all the nymphs of the forest will look dull after one night, all the gems will lose its shine after one touch.

What he needs, is to wake up.

To stop mourning things immediately after their birth, to not borrow grief from tomorrow and keep reliving it each day.

What he needs is the mundane, the human animal basic requirements. To remember he is a mammal deep down, he isn't a concept nor an abstract collection of ideas, he isn't a ghost watching people pass by, he is flesh and blood.

Someone who will bring him back down from his journey up in the clouds, who will steal him back from the stars, from all the gaint things bigger than life itself that he got accustomed to befriending and haveing one sided conversations with.

He cuts his own thoughts before he finishes them because he lost interest, he stops mid sentences because he grew bored of the words coming out of his own mouth.

He will complain and throw tantrums, but you must prevail his trails and stand your ground. He will dramatise things and get mad, he will cry and break down, he will act as if you're plucking his heart out of his chest and crushing it in your hand.

You must prevail.

Remind him that he will survive. Sure, he can get mad, but he must stay alive. Peter needs an intervention, someone brave enough to risk upsetting the crowned prince of humanity's best of the best and tell him it's bedtime.

To drag him away from the blank canvas he has been staring at for hours, to hold him accountable for skipping meals or rotting in bed for weeks without going outside.

Someone to reteach him the basic maintenances task of being alive, the ones he neglected and gradually forgot as he couldn't bother to remember he too own a human body that requires care. That his brain is an organ that requires fuel and breaks as much as it is visions-plagued maze.

Take him with you to bathe, gently lather shampoo in his hair as he stiffly sits in the lukewarm water while watching the yellow rubber duck float by. Guide his fingers when it comes time to apply conditioner and let him remember how the texture of his own hair feels like, watch him rediscover how nice it is to let water wash his worries away.

Peter needs the simple pleasures in life, his soul requires a soft served ice cream cone, a cheap candy from a corner store, a hummed melody you made up while hanging your clothes to dry.

The mundane, the ugly, the eggs with burnt edges. Food that is merely food and nothing else, drinks that are simply drinks rather than magical twyrine mixtures that let him hear whispers he will never be able to decipher or understand.

Be firm but never controlling. Be a teacher but never condescending. Be a human, most of all, a real human being to show him that he is too.

Bad Grief

Grief can't decide if he wants someone to see the good in him or if that would cause more harm than good. He has a role to play and he's very good at it.

It is a necessary evil. The gangs will exist with or without him, it's better that he leads them and makes sure they never cross the line than someone else who might not be trusted.

A cause surprisingly more noble than anyone would ever expect of him. This life has fallen directly into his hands, every road led him down his path as if it was custom made for his measurements alone. It was always suspicious, how well things fell into place, how convenient fate was at times.

Does he need someone to see the good in him? peak behind the curtains and view him at his most barest forms? Not really. He is content with playing this role for eternity, a glorified shopkeeper, he can keep the jig up for many years to come.

But is it what he wants? is that what he really wants from life? to surrender to fate and simply take it laying down? He pushes these swarming thoughts away, as if they won't return at dawn.

You didn't fear him, either someone with a death wish, a brave fool or an apathetic idiot.

But he felt weird under your gaze, as if your eyes could see through him, through the facade. You never reacted to his empty threats or intimidation attempts, neither did you acknowledge the fact he is a criminal much. You weren't here to challenge him or take his throne, neither were you here for a favour or to obtain something illegal.

...you were merely here for him? To what... chat?

He did think you were a fool for a while, he won't lie. ulterior motives or not, you were walking into a den of criminals each morning just to what? Talk to him about the weather and how cold autumn is?

You weren't part of the script, clearly an unfated encounter that you deliberately went out of your way to have with him each day.

Until one day, he noticed the lack of any ticking sounds as you approched him. Your usual pocket clock seemed still in place from the chain dangling from your pocket, which could only mean one thing.

"Hand it over dollface."

And you did, as if you anticipated this request.

He fixed it for you, fingers moving by sheer muscle memory alone, a skill he thought he had long forgotten.

Bad Grief wants someone who isn't afraid to be free, who comprehends the role he has to play, who doesn't condemn things they do not understand.

Someone who isn't trying to save him or make him change from this life of crime, but also someone who is brave enough to walk by his side on the streets, to hold his hand in public, to not bend to the whims of the public's opinion.

The air is really chilly, would you like his jacket? ....don't ever call him a gentleman again, he just doesn't want you to freeze to death, that's all.

Grief would love someone who walks their own path, someone who will make the first step for him because deep down he is frozen by fear, too cautious for his own good. Too aware of what's at risk, of what could happen.

Of how much he could endanger you just by knowing your name, just by people seeing you at his side. You do realise what you're sacrificing? the opportunities which will never be presented to you just because you decided to be with someone like him? It's your funeral.

But he really is touched, that someone will see him worth all of that. Bad Grief had to ensure he remains useful to people all his life, that the townfolks need him more than they hate, that he is a necessary foundation that could never be uprooted without the entire structure collapsing.

Even the authorities know that, the Saburov understand his usefulness in keeping the criminal structure plates at bay, how he sets the rules and decides where to draw the line. A mutual beneficial relationship built of begrudging respect and fear.

He needs you to understand that he must. He digged his own grave, he was lead here on a leash by life. It was this or death. Don't look at him with distant, don't let fear cloud your judgements.

Be brave, never afraid. Be direct and always sincere. Be smart and clever but never cautious or cowardly. Be moral but never vendective.

Most important of all, the ideal reader would be different to each character based on what they value most. Someone like Aglaya values personal freedom above all and would fall for an independent Reader with their own convictions rather than blindly follow the herd. Someone authentic and brave.

While someone like Alexander Saburov would rather be that person for the reader. Preferring that you're more dependent on him and believe in his notions and principles, having faith in his justice and righteousness. To rely on him to tell you what's right and what's wrong. It's important to only indulge within limit and never stray too far from the path of what's wrong and right.

On the other extreme, Andrey also values freedom but it is his own freedom he cares most about. Your freedom shouldn't challenge his too much nor ask him to change his ways, if you love him then you must love him for who he is because he doesn't plan on changing for anyone. Morals are treated as another cage that suppresses his freedom rather than human decency.

My own writing tastes like a gumball to you- I know you meant it as a good thing but ouch. Does my writing really seem childish and overwhelmingly sugary? Ah-

It's not a bad thing, it's just not what I was aiming for either. At least you seem to enjoy it so yeah. I hoped my style would seem more... poetic to you? Sincere?

I'm grateful regardless. I liked the pastry comparison in Yulia's story, however. It fits the vibe I was aiming for.

I hope your day is amazing, do please take care of yourself.

#♧🐿 anon #♧character study #♧comfort #♧fluff #♧angst #♧Grief #♧katerina #♧Peter #♧Yulia #♧x reader #pathologic x reader #Yulia Lyuricheva x reader #peter stamatin x reader #Katerina Saburova x reader #bad Grief x reader #x reader #fluff #angst

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themonotonysyndrome · 1 year ago

Text

Bound by hearts, not by blood

It's here! It's finally here! Happy birthday, darling @moonandstarlightsposts! DSJFBDSJ - I had so much fun writing this bday gift for you. Can you believe it? Before this, I've never written anything about our ladies - Kalina and Farah. Well, that changed now! I know how much Kalina means to you, so I hope I did her justice.

(This bday gift contains headcanon from a Redacted fan @/running-tweezers. You'll know which one when you read it.)

Anyway, happy birthday, wifey! I hope you'll have a wonderful day! And thank you @Broccoli for the fanart~

Summary: While unwinding with two of his friends, William Solaire is delightfully surprised when Bright Eyes crashes their night.

In scenes where old and new money rubs elbows underneath glimmering chandeliers, it's common knowledge that William Solaire is never without an attractive face at his side. No matter the event, a betting pool and a letter of invitation addressing the Frenchman go hand-in-hand with tongues wagging: "Have you heard who William Solaire is bringing tonight?"

They differ from time to time - flashes of the paparazzi's camera couldn't get enough of the Victoria Secret's model that was his plus-one during the Met Gala. His business associates at the Festival de Cannes flocked around; their inquires concealed by a barely polite veneer about the handsome actor clasping his arm. No matter where he goes, a man with a powerful sway in the international real estate market, a net worth beyond $1 million and air about him as if he steps out of a Renaissance painting, a spotlight will always shine on William Solaire and by extension, anyone he associates with.

For the Empowered world, William's beaus never made it in the newspapers. What stirs every topic of conversation, though, is when the Solaire Patriarch is attended by two of his women. A pleasant evening can turn into a political nightmare whenever a Vampire King is accompanied by a pair of Old Bloods after all.

But tonight, the world sighs in relief for William is with friends instead of bodyguards, basking in their company with vintage red wines on a silver tray. A roaring fireplace lit up the leisure room, and warmth seeps through hidden corners. The chilly night air is Autumn's herald, but the three Vampires are tucked away inside a beautiful manor.

"This is an excellent Pinot Noir, Kalina dear," Reclining on a plush armchair, William toasted his glass in appreciation. "Is this Cheval Blanc 1947?"

Moroz Kalina, clad in nothing but a red lingerie and a pair of high heels, shakes her head. Her golden hair tumbles off her shoulders like a waterfall. The red marabou robe drape on her body paints an alluring image of the woman. "Penfolds Grange Hermitage from 1951. Thought you might like it." Her Slavic accent is thick and sensual, especially when she caresses every word that leaves her lips.

As someone with a palate that had been delicately cultivated over the years, William raises his glass again. This time, to the Ukrainian Vampire for her immaculate taste in wine.

"I do so enjoy these moments together. It's a welcoming reprieve from a tiresome day." William admits, setting aside his now empty glass. "I hope neither of you will take it to heart that I often relieve my burdens here."

Kalina tries to shrug but can't because of the body leaning against her left side. So she waves a dismissive hand. "We have spent our years together for far too long to be petty. You need to complain, William? Then complain. The night is still young after all and we always have a spare room for you here."

"You're cooking breakfast if you're staying, though," A new voice chimes in. The woman who has her head nestled on Kalina's shoulder yawns, shadows from the hearth dance across her glistening fangs. Unlike the two who had been drinking, she let the warmth of the fire lull her into a sleepy stupor with her legs tucked on the sofa-bed. In contrast to Kalina, who looks as if she just stepped out of a photoshoot, this Old Blood is wearing a tiny pair of black panties and a grey crop top that fails to cover her generous breasts; Simple in terms of sleeping garb but no less breathtaking when it comes to beauty. "I've been craving for something French ever since we came back from Champagne." Farah - William's second most trusted Old Blood - added.

Kalina grins, lightly nudging her. "Did you not eat a Frenchman last week? Was he not enough?"

"I meant food, Sayang (Love). I shouldn't have drunk from him, anyway. He was a chain smoker. That shit taint even the blood." Farah turned her nose up in a grimace.

"My poor Lady," Kalina coos. Her grin is then directed to an amused William. "There you go. We insist that you stay, William. It has been a while since you amazed us with your culinary skills. I am also looking forward to breakfast now."

"Then I best not disappoint. Do either of you have any special requests?"

The trio discussed the finer details of tomorrow's menu and compared it to what's available in the pantry and fridges. While blood will always be sustenance to Vampires, eating food is one of the aspects of humanity that none were willing to lose. Farah, in particular, has a fondness for the cuisines of the world.

" - saw this one video from a Korean YouTuber. She made breakfast scrambled but the ingredients were Boujee. I think we might have the ingredients since I ordered some groceries from Whole Foods. I'll share the link - " Farah suddenly stopped rambling. Kalina makes a questioning hum when she detaches herself from her side and pads to the large window beside the fireplace. A cold breeze sweeps in as Farah takes a step back.

The three silently watch as a body tumbles through the window in a mess of limbs and an oversized hoodie.

A painful and muffled groan echoed in the leisure room. "I deserve that major L..."

William recognises that voice. He straightens up in his seat and with bewilderment coloured the low timbre of his voice, he asks, "Littlest one? Are you alright?"

Farah drops to her knees. She uses whatever healing Magic in her arsenal to close up the cuts on Bright Eyes' exposed skin - their face and hands. Bright Eyes roll to their back, making no move to get off the carpeted floor.

"Like a horse on Ketamine!" The youngest Vampire in the Solaire Clan declares with a thumbs up in the air.

William's eyebrows knit in concern. That becomes apparent when two of his dearest friends merely chuckle. He kept any reservations to himself and, instead, observed carefully how Kalina and Farah treated Bright Eyes; Frederick's Progeny and the ward of a very reluctant Sam. It's no secret to anyone in the Clan that the tension wove between those three is thicker and more complicated than any spider's web. No secret as big as a pair of young adults murdered by a trespassing Old Blood on home turf can be kept, so the grapevine exploded before William could even officially welcome the two new young Bloods. William would like nothing more than to step in, guiding Sam through a landmine of emotions (both his and theirs), but it wouldn't be ethical since he served as their leader first and foremost.

At times like this, William hates how the crown serves as his ball and chain. At times like this, he's grateful for Vincent's discretion and his ability to seamlessly slide himself into any situation without politics weighing him down.

"Frederick is settling down at his own pace," William's Second Blood reports during a dinner together. William personally delivered a list of his Progeny's favourite blood type to his chef just for the occasion. Vincent had built a solid rapport with the young man, enough to be considered as a friend, and that deserved a reward. "He's thinking about enrolling at D.A.M.N; said he used to enjoy studying at his old university. Sam's probably gonna give him a crash course about it soon."

"And what of young... Bright Eyes?"

Vincent hesitated. "If they're not snapping their new baby fangs at me, they enjoy throwing words around like a flashbang. Most of the time, I think they speak English, but what do I know apparently? I don't live on Reddit or 4Chan's comment threads." He explained, playing it cool, but William felt the suspicion underneath.

"And here I thought you're quite up-to-date with the modern lingo, Vincent."

Vincent huffs. "There's modern lingo and there's thrash talk from the Internet. Bright Eyes has a Master on the latter because I can barely keep up when they start talking in gaming terms."

And that's all William could get about Bright Eyes. A temperamental and wise-cracking Newborn with a hidden depth in them.

Watching how wide Farah smiles as she carries a stammering Bright Eyes into her arms and dumps them on the sofa so she and Kalina can box them opens up a whole new perspective for William. First off: He had no idea that the three of them were close enough for Bright Eyes to break into their home through the window.

"Oh, Маленка(Kiddo)... while that was certainly more graceful than that time you tried to - hmm, what is that word? Wiggle? Ah, yes - down the chimney, what happened to the key that we gave you?" Kalina croons, her breasts smothering the Not-So-Newborn in a warm hug. A brutal combat medic on the battlefield. A head-turning 'ɡädəs (goddess) on the streets and Farah's Heart - those are the familiar labels associated with Kalina. Maternal never once made it into the repertoire, but here she is, lavishing Bright Eyes with all the comforts akin to a doting yet exasperated mother.

"It accidentally fell into the toilet when I was flushing it along with his watch." Bright Eyes confessed with a dramatic gasp of air. Finally able to escape from the older Vampire's bosom. They didn't squirm away like William thought they would. Instead, Bright Eyes made themselves comfortable between them.

"Aku lah... budak nakal betul!" ("Honestly... what a naughty child!") Farah retorts in her native tongue - Bahasa Melayu. Her smile turns amused as she perches her elbow onto the armrest with her head resting on her palm. "Vincent did something again to annoy you?"

"He came by when I was tryna helped Ricky study for a damned test paper - "

"The school isn't damned - " William can't help but mutter as an interjection but at the same time, he's too fascinated by Bright's ranting to stop them.

"And he wouldn't stop hovering like a Karen in front of the cash register at Starbucks! It was annoying! I bet his orders are just like those caucasoidal femoids - "

Kalina snorts while William realises that it was a mistake to drink again.

"And you'd think he took the hint when I dissed that he's 3 edges away from being a Sonic OC but the guy just stares at me as if he had a concussion!"

"And then?" Farah prompts.

"Then I said the RGB lighting inside of his new car looks like a noob Twitch streamer set up so that was a major L for him and he ran to the kitchen but not before I pulled a Sneak 100 and grabbed his Patek Phillip."

William blinks. Farah snickers. Kalina pats on Bright's shoulder, looking a bit proud.

"I sympathise Vincent's plight now." For the first time in a long while, the Solaire King is utterly out of his depths. He had no clue how he should react to the verbal onslaught that came out from his Great Grandprogeny.

Thankfully Farah takes pity on him, "Stick around long enough and they'll start making sense."

"I... see." Well, if anything, William is quite good at rolling with the punches. Plus, nonsensical ramblings or not, he's not passing the opportunity to learn more about his youngest Blood, whether Bright Eyes acknowledges that or not. "Then please, treat me as your eager student."

William didn't miss the surprise flashes across their face. Like a veteran actor, a mask slides back into place to hide their minuscule reaction. William can hazard a guess that they thought he was about to rebuke them for making fun of Vincent. It makes him wonder if that is a habit of Sam's.

"I-I didn't know you guys were busy," Bright Eyes stammers, clearly trying to figure out their footing against him. Their eyes sneak a glance to their sides, gauging Farah and Kalina's temperament even after receiving a warm welcome from William's most powerful enforcers. "Uh... sorry for crashing your pow-wow. You guys gettin' hammered?"

"We invited dear William for companionship and good wine to celebrate his return from overseas," Kalina explains, picking up her glass again. It was still half-full so she threw another carefree toast at William. "He has worked hard for us. Our King deserves to rest his crown for a night, no?" She teases and downs her wine to the very last drop.

William doesn't deign to roll his eyes but does refill his glass. An image of a curious kitten comes into mind when Bright Eyes leans into Kalina's now empty glass to sniff at it.

"Whoa! It's like my nose being plugged by liquorice!" Bright Eyes exclaims. Childish wonderment shines through their nickname. A part of William - who suffers through turmoil after turmoil during the first few years of his Turning - is relieved. Despite everything, there's still some innocence left in his littlest one. A Vampire's heightened senses are a lot to take in, so William is glad that Bright found some humour in it.

Meanwhile, Bright Eyes thrust their arms to the tray beside Kalina, making grabby hands at the wine bottle. One of Kalina's finely shaped eyebrows raises in inquiry even though the young Vampire's gesture is well understood.

"Use your words, Маленка (Kiddo)."

"Fine... can I please have the liquorice-smelling drink so I can get hammered too? C'mon, Kalina. It's a celebration, right? A party!" Here Bright Eyes cast a pleading glance at William. Though their lower lips wobble, a calculative gleam pierces through their eyes.

William didn't verbally defend Vincent when Bright sort of bullied him. He can almost hear the gears running in their head: Just how far can I push this man who can easily rip my head off into drawing his line in the sand? It's a survival tactic; against an unknown threat, the best course of action is to gently push the predator - to gauge its reaction - and then pull back before it has a chance to attack you. William doesn't need a Seer to tell him that Bright Eyes will grow into a formidable Vampire in a couple of centuries with a mindset like theirs.

However, Farah chose to interject. She rubs Bright Eyes' back. "Tell you what, I'm craving something sweet. We got some of those ice-creams that you like. Sundaes for a Sunday - what do you think?"

Childlike glee overtakes cold, calculation on Bright Eyes. It's an endearing look to William. They sprint away, followed by Farah at a much slower pace. A reasonable distance rests between the kitchen and the leisure room so that William and Kalina can converse without having to mind Vampiric sensibilities. But just in case...

"De toutes les choses que j'attendais ce soir, Bright Eyes a été une délicieuse surprise." ("Of all the things I expect tonight, Bright Eyes' came as a delightful surprise.") William comments, that tenor voice adds a layer of beauty to his native tongue.

The three of them - William, Kalina and Farah - had lived long enough and travelled well enough that mastering languages became as easy as collecting foreign postcards.

Wine forgotten for now, Kalina sets aside her glass in favour of eyes fixing on the door behind her King. "Ми з Фарах ніколи не мали звички відмовлятися від безпритульних. Особливо таких поранених, як Брайт." ("Farah and I are never in a habit of turning away strays. Especially one as wounded as Bright,") She drawls when her eyes turn to William, they hardened. "Ваш герцог засліплений своїм горем, спричиненим вашою принцесою. Замість того, щоб залікувати свої рани, він зганяє їх на тому, хто страждає від наслідків, які він не може контролювати." ("Your Duke is blinded by his grief caused by your Princess. Rather than heal his wounds, he takes it out on someone who suffers consequences out of their control.")

William can't refute that he's blindsided by her observation, not when he harbours similar suspicion whenever he sees how Sam treats Frederick and Bright Eyes. The difference was a cause for concern and yet...

"Qui doit intervenir ? Le roi ? Mais alors j'abuserais de mon autorité sur ceux que je considère comme ma famille," ("Who should step in? The King? But then I'd be abusing my authority on those I considered family,") William closes his eyes. "Samuel ne se sent pas à l'aise de me voir autrement que comme son supérieur et le jeune Bright Eyes n'a pas encore décidé si j'étais un ami ou un ennemi. Ni l'un ni l'autre n'apprécierait mon intervention." ("Samuel is not comfortable seeing me other than his superior and young Bright Eyes is still deciding if I'm a friend or foe. Neither would appreciate my intervention.")

Helplessness isn't a foreign concept to William; it's an old friend even. However, it's been a long, long time since it came to visit him.

"Семюель встановив свої кордони з тобою. Брайт ще ні," ("Samuel laid down his boundaries with you. Bright has not yet,") Kalina surmised, her beautiful expression vacant as she pondered. "Я думаю, що знаю спосіб, як ви можете їх завоювати. Цій дитині буде корисно мати більше людей на своєму боці." ("I believe I know a way that you can win them over. It will be good for that child to have more people in their corner.")

William has been wanting to dote on a GrandProgeny for about, oh, a century now. Alexis and Vincent were so quick to fly off from the proverbial nest that he missed how noisy the mansion could be. Hmm. Perhaps if he's able to understand Bright Eyes, they in return, will indulge his doting.

Seeing eagerness dawn on William made Kalina chortle. She likes him like this - free of the crown, allowing the ever-curious and ever-hopeful man to emerge.

William leans forward and laces his fingers together, a picture of attentiveness. "J'adore les bonnes histoires. Dis-moi, quoi que tu prévoies, est-ce la même méthode que celle qui permet de ramener un chat errant dans un foyer chaleureux?" ("I do so love a good story. Tell me, whatever it is that you're planning, is it the same method that corrals a stray cat into a warm home?")

They both can hear footsteps and chatter returning to the leisure room so Kalina playfully leans forward to whisper. "Після того, як ви забезпечили їжу та ліжко, на черзі іграшки та ігри. Тобі пощастило, Вільяме - Брайт давно не грався з нами." ("Once you made food and bed available, next comes toys and playtime. You are in luck, William - it's been a while since Bright played with us.")

The door swings open just in time. Farah and Bright Eyes return with triumphant smiles akin to conquers. Kalina spread her arms wide and Farah assumed her prior position, only this time, she's carrying a tall glass of crisp rice treat sundae with a generous helping of maple syrup. Meanwhile, Bright Eyes is holding up two sundaes. They hesitate at the doorway before marching towards William. The Vampire King is utterly delighted when they thrust one of the sweet treats to him.

"Oh my, thank you ever so kindly, littlest one," William smiles beatifically and accepts his sundae. A familiar scent twitches his nose. "Vanilla ice-cream topped with lightly grilled strawberries and glazed in balsamic, what an interesting combination."

Bright Eyes chooses to perch on a window seat, not unlike that of a spoiled cat. Their sundae is peanut butter ice-cream topped with salted pretzel sticks and garnished with slices of bananas and drizzled with honey - a dentist's nightmare. "Yeah, I saw you snacking on strawberries during that dinner party. Vanilla 'cause... ya know. Balsamic to match your Boujee vibe." And with that, they quickly shove spoonful after spoonful of ice-cream into their mouth to avoid speaking further.

How is it possible for fondness to bloom like a field of sunflowers? Bright Eyes' silliness inspires William to write poetry about the early years his Progenies came into his life, including Sam, Frederick and Bright Eyes. For now, he enjoys how flavours dance on his tongue. "Delicious. I do believe I have a new favourite dessert."

Bright Eyes let out a tiny smile. They bit their lower lip, hesitant about something - only for a split second though. "I heard you spoke French just now. I'm sorry, by the way. That's got to be my least favourite disability."

William's spoon freezes in mid-air, in between his gaping mouth and sundae glass. The man is too stupefied to speak.

"William?" Kalina suddenly chimes in, currently enjoying being spoonfed by a doting Farah and the look on William's face. The two women shared a beaming smile before mischievous eyes trailed to him. "Would it be too much of a trouble to reschedule the patrol roster tonight?"

"Not at all. Do you want to take over tonight's shift?"

"It's a full moon tonight. WonderWorld will soon come alive, yes?"

Bright Eyes notices the change in expression on William and Farah - a secret smile is shared between the Old Bloods and it immediately hooked Bright Eyes' curiosity. "Aite. Emergency meeting: y'all look Sus with a capital S. Too bad this isn't my spaceship or I'd eject the three of you."

"You can't eject 3 Crew members at once." Farah is quick to correct them.

Bright Eyes stick their tongue out, the perfect picture of petulant.

"You have never been to WonderWorld on a full moon, have you?"

"Nada. Why? What's happening tonight?"

"A rite of passage."

Tony is 14 years old. But tonight? Tonight he'll be a man.

"Here we are brats. Wonderworld!" One of the older teenagers - Noah - spread his arms like an expert showman to the abandoned amusement park before them. If it weren't for the moonlight, darkness threatened to consume the entire area. Standing underneath the street lamps alongside the second youngest generation of the Shaw Pack, WonderWorld looks like a scene taken straight from a horror movie. For the Empowered World, that isn't too far off the mark.

Tony did his best to ignore the anxiety threatening to stop his heart. If Noah and his gang knew just how scared he was, they wouldn't stop teasing him.

Noah clapped his hands - it was so loud that it startled Tony and his friends who were lost in their own thoughts. "Alright, listen up! The dare is simple: each one of you will sneak into WonderWorld, do one lap and come back here, got it?" The older boy explains, his eyes scanning the pre-teens that followed him tonight. He relishes the sadistic glee at their terrified expressions. "The only rule is not to get caught by Vamps. Simple enough. So, Tony, you're up!"

Tony's feet take a step back before he even knows it. Two of Noah's friends burst out laughing.

He'd probably started running in the opposite direction (So what if the older teens drove them here? He'll walk back home if he wants to!) if it weren't for his best friend clutching his hand. Rachel squeezes it before narrowing her eyes at a grinning Noah with all the righteous fury Tony knew that burned in her kind heart.

"What? Why does Tony have to go first!?"

"It's what we all agreed in the car, remember? And by all, I mean me so chop-chop, Tony. The moon isn't going to wait for your ass all night." Noah made a show of checking the time on his phone with a bored look.

"That's not fair! Who died and made you Alpha!?"

"Fine, by all means, you can go first then. And just for that, Rachel has to do a double lap."

"You son of - "

"It's OK, Rachel. I-I don't mind going first." Tony softly interjects. The thought of Rachel walking around in the dark abandoned amusement park longer than she has to scare him more.

Some of Rachel's ire disappear like smoke. Concern knit her eyebrows together. "You sure? I don't mind going first. Honest!"

Tony shrugs, putting on a brave face. "How hard can it be? I'm just going in and out ASAP while dodging Vamps."

"That's the spirit, Tony!" Noah cheers and roughly claps Tony's back. He winces. Noah's friends waste no time separating Tony from Rachel and the others and shove him to the rusty gates of WonderWorld. "Good luck in there." He sniggers.

Tony gulps. He tosses one last look at a worried Rachel before steeling himself. He then turns on the flashlight feature on his phone and takes the first careful steps into the park. WonderWorld saps all the light the deeper he treads inside, and soon enough, the light from his phone can barely pierce through what's behind the vegetated-infested carousel. His beating heart is so loud even to his ears and that just adds more fuel to his anxiety.

Because if Tony can hear his own heart, surely any Vampires could hear him before they even see him. He shoves that thought aside before it paralyses him.

The carousel marks the entrance and only exit of the park. So when Tony passes by a corner of ruined Bumper Cars and a broken sign that directs visitors to a decrepit Haunted House, he knows that he's halfway through WonderWorld. Feeling like he can afford a quick break, Tony studies the signboard in morbid curiosity. "Oh, I'm not going to be the first victim in any horror movie!"

The Ferris Wheel in the distance looms over as Tony continues his round.

It's eerie, yes, but his heart gradually settles down. So far, his luck is coming through - no one knew just how many Vampires patrol the area each night but perhaps they're taking a break tonight?

Tony is feeling good about this -

The rustling of chains nearby shatters the silent night. The hairs on the back of his neck stand attention. Tony's heart resumes beating furiously.

He spins to where the sound is coming from, the brightly lit phone shaking in his grip. Sweat runs down his back when nothing but dangling chains hang from the rusted foundations of a fallen Roller Coaster.

"It's just the wind..." Tony whispers to himself, his breath heavy. His eyes search wildly for any figures behind steel bars. "Just the wind... You're OK." Not wanting to push his luck, Tony jogs away. A tiny part of his brain is screaming at him not to make any noise against the gravel.

Yet no matter how desperately he tries to silence the fear pumping through his heart and unstable footsteps, something is stalking him.

They came in the form of heavy boots crunching on dead leaves behind him. A barely-there silhouette slinking on his left. A once lifeless wooden log suddenly topples from the water slide. The sound of it crashing to the ground nearly snatches Tony's soul.

"Who's there!?" He squeaks, phone spinning in all directions with a paranoid, frantic edge. He can no longer recall where exactly he is in this expansive park. Is he close to the entrance? Did he loop around the familiar-looking carousel? And in the name of everything that's holy -

Is something getting closer?

Tony struggles to breathe now, legs rooted to the ground. His mind all but scrambled, trying to come up with a rational solution: maybe it's just a racoon... a racoon that can shove off a large, rideable wooden log... but still! It's possible! Because Tony and the rest all heard of what Vampires do against Empowered trespassers - they got chased away. That's it.

So whatever this something is? It can't be -

"Hey guys, welcome to episode 666 of my Minecraft Let's Play!"

Tony's scream was so loud that it could jumpstart the heart of every Vampire in Dahlia back to life.

Against everything that Tony assumed, that something turns out to be a Vampire! A Vampire that's grinning ear-to-ear while holding up a peace sign.

"Greetings, traveller! I am the pitbull of this park."

"Mr. Worlwide!?" He squeaks, words just flying out without a thought. However, that just makes the Vampire's grin near maniacal.

"No, no - more of the das kindershredder version. It's from a German bedtime story, you understand, right?"

Tony could only gulp.

"Anyway, legend has it that once a year, on the night of a full moon, a fur fest is conducted right here in our glorious crack den for the rejected, the incels and most importantly, the fuckbois. You can thank Vincent for that last one. And since life is just a Bulgarian, you must be tonight's unstolen car."

Now, any sane person who knew better than to live on the Internet would think that the Vampire lost a couple of their marbles but Tony is many things - hypocrite is not one of them especially since it's his life mission to make a career out of his TikTok account with his Hot Takes™ about Sigma Males.

"I-I didn't mind going first..." Tony mumbled. His face then pulls a scowl, anxiety gradually leaving his body. "Though, did you have to try and kill me via jumpscare? I thought you Vamps just chased us off!"

The Vampire had the audacity to shrug. "I'm just built differently, very Willed Smitherently." They then lean down to offer Tony a hand. The crazed grin dimmed to a more... humane smile.

Tony mentally debates with himself, only for a few seconds. While he can't quite get a grip on the Vampire's vibe, it's best not to piss them off. So he lets them pull him off the ground. "Are you going to chase me out now?"

"Nah, it's not fun running around this place while you can't see and there's a maniac with fangs chasing after you," While their voice retains that devil-may-care tone, a flash of self-loathing morphs the Vampire's face. As the unofficial 'runt' of the litter, it's like looking in a mirror. A sense of understanding and camaraderie starts to bloom within Tony. "Anyway, I think that's enough OSHA violation for one night - what's your name, kid?"

"Anthony Santoro. My friends call me Tony."

"Mamma Mias and meatballs. I dig it. So here's the deal, Tony - can I call you Tony? - Mr. Solaire said that we're pretty tight with your Pack, so any wolfy trespassers aren't to be harmed. So since I'm not in the mood to run around after you, how about we just chill instead? We can grab the others and hang out at McDonald's or something. You game?"

Now that they mentioned food, a fright can really make you go hungry, but - "I'm sorry, uh - "

"They call me Bright Eyes. The most certified crack-concentrated Earl of the House of Solaire."

"O...K? Um, while a burger sounds good right about now, I - we can't just leave in the middle of our dare. Noah and his gang would never live it down if I backed out now."

The Vampire - Bright Eyes - folded their arms across their chest. For the first time since they met, their grin vanishes. "Now would be a perfect time for an exposition cutscene."

Tony delivers just that. Some confessions come easier in the dark and with a stranger whom Tony has a strong suspicion shares more than one plight.

" - but they're too chickenshit to do anything to us whenever the Pack is under one roof. Noah's a jerkface but he knows better than to do anything while Alpha Shaw is around."

Bright Eyes snorts. "Yeah, no shit. I've met him. Alpha Shaw has enough male hormones to transition someone just by standing beside him. You know, I think your Alpha would've been fine even without a Mate. He has so much testosterone oozing from every orifice that he can create a son via mitosis."

He can't help it; Tony immediately bursts a gut laughing. It's absurd to even imagine the Vampire and Uncle David being in the same room. "Uncle David might look scary but he's really n-nice," Tony hiccups, rubbing his wet eyes. "But whenever he's not around, Noah would drop his nice guy act. Rachel said he once grabbed someone's wheelchair handles without even asking for permission! He then pushed them around the store as if he was doing them a great favour. I think he just likes the look on their face."

Rather angered, Bright Eyes looks positively ecstatic. They clap their hands once, "He's an Ableist! That's awesome 'cause I'm a Cainist! BRB, these pockets need stuffing." Without another word, they squat on the ground and crabwalk away. All the while muttering themselves about 'biblically accurate rocks'.

Tony is unsure if he should offer his help or not. This has been the most surreal night in his life! Turns out he didn't need to do anything because their conversation had attracted more Vampires.

He hears before he even sees them.

The definitive 'crunch' of a pair of high heels on gravel comes from the shadows of the run-down booths. A new Vampire stalks forward. She wears a simple pair of jeans and a red blouse; with her hair pulled up in a ponytail, cheekbones and eyeliner sharp enough to cut someone, it reminded Tony of those Empresses from SouthEast Asia that the school printed in history books.

Once again, rooted on the spot, Tony could only gulp when the Vampire studied him with a wry smile. She then turns her head to the side and says, "You wanted Bright to make friends tonight. Unconventional means aside, I think they did a good job, Moonbug."

From Tony's right, another Vampire emerges from the darkness - boxing him completely. This one is a tall, blonde beauty wearing a tight black dress and a pair of strap-on heels. If the one in red reminds him of an Empress, this one has a strong witchy vibe. As discreetly as possible, Tony's eyes flicker to Bright Eyes, still in the midst of perusing the best rocks for stoning. Is he on his own then?

"Of course they would relate more with the younger generations. Their fire burns with youthful vigour."

Every instinct within Tony is screaming at him to run, to escape. Unlike Bright Eyes, these two are Old Bloods. It doesn't make sense, though; the Uncles and Aunts in the Shaw Pack mentioned that Old Bloods are a rare sight in WonderWorld. They didn't patrol nightly but no one really knows what they do in the Solaire Clan.

The blonde woman pulls back her lips into a sweet smile, her eyes half-lidded as she bends to get a good look at him. "Your heart is beating so fast, дитинча (little cub) or should I call you, зайчику? (little bunny?)"

Should he Shift? But Bright Eyes said that the Solaire Vampires don't harm members of the Shaw Pack.

The woman in red shakes her head fondly. "I think he has enough fright for one night, Kalina. Let's save it for the others."

Kalina pouts but backs off. "Oh, very well Серденько (My Heart)." She clears her throat and some of that intimidating vibe is toned down. "Introduction is in order, yes? My name is Moroz Kalina and this is my everything, Nik Farah of Perak."

The other Old Blood inclines her head in greeting. "I mostly go by Farah after the 18th century. You can't exactly remain a Queen after you've Turned."

So Tony was right! However, Kalina continues on.

"And I believe you have already met Bright Eyes."

"A-ha! This looks good enough to give someone a concussion!"

Tony warily scans all three Vampires. "Uh... do I need to introduce myself again or..." His heckles rise once more when Kalina laughs. Did he overstepped!?

"Thank you, but no need. We all heard it earlier. It is very admiral that you could keep up with our littlest one."

Farah chips in next. "This is Bright's first time, you know; patrolling on the night of your rite of passage. We thought it would be a perfect way for them to make friends outside of the Clan."

"I see..." But Tony's first question remains unanswered. "What happens now? If you guys aren't going to chase me off, do we - " He makes a wide gesture to the empty park. " - just chill right here? Does McDonald's do deliveries to WonderWorld!?"

"About that," Kalina takes over the conversation when Farah excuses herself and goes over to where Bright Eyes is. Tony absentmindedly stares as the Old Blood wipes their dirty palms with a handkerchief, lightly chastising them for picking up rocks with sharp edges. "While we would never step into the affairs of your Pack due to mutual respect and friendship, we would like to explain Bright Eyes' proposal further. I assure you, Mr. Santoro, we will personally drive each one of you home and at the same time, you can enact a bit of a harmless revenge against those older boys that you talked about."

Tony's eyes widened, and her words bounced in his head. Revenge against Noah and his gang? That... that does sound appealing but despite how good of a relationship the Pack is with the Clan, he can't just simply trust a bunch of strangers! Rachel would be so disappointed in him!

Kalina tilts her head, her golden hair falls over one shoulder. Her smile turns to proud. "You are not convinced. Good. That is a smart brain on your shoulders, дитинча (little cub). William! Come introduce yourself. Your words weigh heavier than mine."

Tony's heart plummets to the ground when a very familiar-looking man shows up. He and literally everyone in the Pack will always see this man at every important occasion that Uncle David hosts. Despite that, his smile is the kindest Tony has ever seen on anyone other than his Mum, no one can mistake how power drapes over his shoulders like a cape. So no matter how friendly he is, no one other than the Alpha, his Mate, the Beta and also his own Mate dare to approach him.

Because William Solaire isn't a man anyone can approach.

But here he is, approaching Tony instead. In fact, a panicking Tony has no idea why the Vampire King is coming towards him as if they're old friends!

"Thank you, dear Kalina. I'm so very excited to meet Bright's new friend," Again!? Just how important is Bright Eyes to have these Old Bloods looking like they're two seconds away from throwing a party just because they made a friend!? "My name is William Solaire. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"H-hey." Tony squeaks. What is he supposed to do? Does he need to bow? Would it be rude not to look him in the eyes? Thankfully, he doesn't need to think too hard about etiquette.

The King doesn't seem to mind his stuttering. In fact, why does his entire demeanour remind Tony of how his Mum would fondly flip through their family album? "Please forgive my presumption, as it is my hope that you will take up Bright's offer. Making friends is always a joyous occasion and I would like to foster that for our littlest member of the Clan."

"Oi! I don't need a playdate!"

Instead of getting angry at Bright's attitude, the King is as confused as Tony when he stares at them. "Weren't you talking about wanting to eat everything from the McDonald's menu earlier? A... mukbang, I believe?"

"...Yes."

"How wonderful! I have Alpha Shaw and Beta Talbot's phone numbers here. If it makes you feel better, Mr. Santoro, you can inform them of where you'll be at all times."

You know what? At this point, Tony might as well roll with it instead of trying to make sense of what's happening. Besides, any form of suspicion and anxiety evaporates when Bright Eyes jog back with every pocket on their person stuffed to the brim with that maniacal grin.

"You're hanging out with us? Lit. Quick question: how loud can you scream?"

"Can I call my Beta first? Maybe a lawyer too."

Noah's blood runs ice cold when he hears Jason's piercing scream.

That's the third scream now. The first was Tony's. No one expected it, really - you either made a successful lap around WonderWorld or got chased out by Vampires. That's it! There was never an instance where anyone needed to scream in terror!

"The runt probably got scared and pissed his pants." Noah rationalises to the group despite the waver in his voice.

"Fuck you, Noah." Rachel spits at him and runs into WonderWorld without even looking back before the older teenagers can even do anything. Her sudden reaction frightens the other Cubs. They fidget, they mutter in broken pleas to go home; how quickly the mood becomes miserable.

"What do we do?" Noah has always played the role of the leader - the unofficially 'Alpha' of their year group - so it makes sense that one of his buddies would turn to him.

"Everything's fine," Noah insisted, trying his best to calm his racing heart. "Seriously! Why are you all freaking out about it? No one from the Solaire Clan would be stupid enough to hurt us - "

Rachel's scream was as loud as Tony's. Just as terrified.

Everything goes downhill from there. His friends scrambled into the car and tears down the road, leaving Noah, his own car and the remaining group scared shitlessly. He never thought he would be abandoned just like that!

"C-Can we leave now? Please!" One of the kids sobs.

"What about Tony? Rachel? They're still in there!"

"Do you think someone k-killed them!?"

"They're not dead!" Noah snaps, startling the poor pre-teens. He grits his teeth; focusing on the anger is better than being frozen in fear. "They probably got trapped somewhere or-or found a dead raccoon. Look, I'm gonna grab them and then we'll leave. Fucking brats, can't even do anything right..."

"You're just gonna leave us here!?"

Noah can't believe this is happening to him, betrayed and now bickering with a bunch of baby Wolves that are seconds away from wetting their pants. Great. In the end, though, they all went in together. It was difficult walking in the dark when everyone huddled so closely but Noah kept his cursing to the minimum. The sooner they find Rachel and Tony, the sooner he can call his 'friends' out on Tiktok.

The light slowly fades behind them as they head deeper and deeper into WonderWorld. The brats held each other hands so as not to get lost, and Noah smacked the one nearest to him when he tried to grab his hand.

"Tony! Rachel! Where the fuck are you!?" Noah's shout echo through the park. One of the pre-teens whimpers in protest at the sudden loud noise.

No reply. Dread creeps into his mind and heart no matter how hard Noah tries to deny it. He grits his teeth and wonders if he would need to comb through the entire park for the missing kids. And where are the Vampires that were supposed to be on patrol anyway? There's no way -

The hair on the back of Noah's neck stood up. Someone is watching him.

He immediately whirls around, only for his heart to seize in his throat - he's completely alone.

"W-When did they - " Noah's eyes widen in disbelief and horror. Every last one of the kids is now missing. They were just behind him! He couldn't hear any footsteps. It happened so suddenly. As if they were snatched -

"Yo!"

Noah didn't realise that he had been spinning around in his panic state, eyes searching out for unseen threats. Only for it to pop up behind him as suddenly and silently capably by a Vampire.

He sees the fangs first. Then the crazed smile. The inhumane eyes.

"Alright, buddy, I'm going to shit yourself."

Finally, and hilariously too late, Noah catches a glimpse of a rock in the Vampire's raised fist before he's knocked out.

Dahlia's Daily Dirt | OCTOBER 17, 2023

Is William Solaire stepping up as a stepfather?

Written by Madelyn Talbot, a Buzzfeed journalist who covers film, TV, music, and celebrities.

Ladies and gentlemen, hold on to your burgers and chicken nuggets because the most desirable billionaire in Dahlia is making headlines again. This time though? As a potential stepfather! Yes, folks, this writer couldn't believe her eyes when she spotted William Solaire at McDonald's last night. Spoiler alert: he wasn't alone!

The real-estate mogul, or the man who is known to ignite countless hearts with his sultry smile and gentlemanly charm, was recently seen within the Golden Arches with not one but two stunning ladies in tow. And that's not all; they weren't there for a romantic rendezvous. Oh no! The trio was accompanied by a lively group of pre-teens, sparking rumours that our leading man may be stepping up to the plate as a potential stepfather for this beautiful couple.

Eyewitnesses inside the fast-food haven couldn't believe their luck as they watched an intriguing scene unfold. Our local Romeo was all smiles in his 3-piece Armani suit as he held up a phone, very kindly helping the kids to video record their mukbang. Could it be that this heartthrob is trading in red carpets for carpool lanes in his limousine?

The two glamorous ladies by his side seemed perfectly at ease with the situation. They laughed and chatted, clearly embracing the mayhem that comes with corralling a group of excitable pre-teens. We couldn't help but wonder, are they the lucky ladies who have captured the heart of Dahlia's most sought-after bachelor? And the question that I'm sure you all are wondering: 7 children? Really?

While the ladies fed each other fries dipped with ice-cream, our man of the hour was ever attentive in attending to the kids with stories of the latest Met Gala, and from the looks on their faces, it seemed he had a knack for entertaining even the toughest critics - kids with discerning taste buds!

Now, we're not jumping to conclusions, but could this rendezvous be the start of a heartwarming love story? Or perhaps, it's just a glimpse into the philanthropic side of our favourite celebrity, treating some lucky children to a night out. Either way, it's safe to say that this impromptu McDonald's adventure has left us craving answers almost as much as the juicy McRibs.

So, will our media-acclaimed most desirable man be adding 'stepfather' to his list of impressive titles? Only time will tell, but one thing's for sure: Dahlia's hottest heartthrob is stepping up, and we're loving every moment of it. Whether it's rocking Wall Street or at the golden arches, William never fails to surprise and delight us. Keep your eyes peeled, folks - this Modern Family saga: Stepfather edition is just getting started!

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TAGS: Dahlia's Daily Dirt | News | Celebrity | William Solaire | More

[SHOW 1K+ COMMENTS]

#monotony's rambling #redacted asmr #redacted audio #fanfic #redacted william solaire #Moroz Kalina (oc)#Nik Farah of Perak (oc)#redacted bright eyes #ps: some of bright's insane dialogue is from max0r so credit goes to him #life is hard for a pre-teen and a young vampire #william sympathises with you

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