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http-velvett · 5 months ago

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The bat and the black widow

Helping an old friend (part 1)

Summary: An ex black widow assassin, trying to start a new life away from her past, until a friend from the past finds her asking for help

Wc: 2.8k

Relationships: Bruce Wayne/batman x black widow! Reader(romantic), Batfam! X fem! Reader (platonic) , Natasha Romanoff x fem! Reader (platonic)

A/n: so I made this since I got a random urge to wanting to read black widow! Reader x Batman but I found none, so when in doubt make your own! ALSO! If it wasn’t obvious this is a marvel x dc crossover story but it’s more mcu with comic elements x dc since it’s been awhile since I read marvel comics lol. It also has gotten longer than i had originally planned so I will making this into a series ^^

Slowly waking up, you turned to the sides seeing the sunlight peeking through the curtains to keep the room dark, or at least dark as it possibly can with the sun being out now.

After a few seconds of you looking at the windows you slowly stretched your arms upwards, letting out a yawn in the process causing your eyes to water a bit as you sat up.

"Morning." You said softly as you looked at the man that was asleep next to you, as you ran your hand through his black hair.

Bruce shifted a bit in his sleep as he felt your fingers being ran through his hair. Smiling softly at him of his movement you leaned in,giving him a kiss on his cheek.

His eyes soon fluttered open at the action, looking up at you as he smiled at her sitting up. "Morning love." He said, his morning voice making him sound more deeper than usual as he leaned in to you kissing your lips as you kissed him back.

Pulling away from the kiss you got out of bed as you started to get changed into your outfit for the day. "So you have anything planned for us today?" You asked.

Today was a special day for Bruce and you, which was why you asked. As of today it was your guys 3rd year anniversary.

"You think I didn't plan anything for us today?" He asked, getting up from the bed as well as he wrapped his arms around your waist kissing your neck softly.

You hummed as his lips met your neck, you could just melt at his touch.

"No.." you spoke as you turned your head slightly to look at him. "I was just asking since I was also planning on something."

"Oh?" He said a small smile on his face as he placed his chin on your shoulder to look at you.

"Yeah." You replied, fixing the shirt you had put on.

"I have something too." He said as he went to start changing into clothes he'll wear for today.

"But l'll give it to you after what you have planned." He looking over at you as he continued to get dress.

"Well now you're making me eager to figure out what it is." You said, a smile on your face as you walked out of the room.

"Don't worry I'm sure you'll like what I got you."

He called out in reply from the room.

Walking down into the kitchen you smiled as you saw Damian sitting in the kitchen eating his breakfast.

"Morning early bird." You said as you walked over to him ruffling his hair as you went to make a cup of coffee for Bruce and you.

Damian looked up at you as you spoke ruffling his hair. Once you finally moved away from him, he kept his eyes on you. "Morning..." he mumbled as he spoke.

"Morning Ms McGee." Alfred spoke as he handed her a plate with the breakfast he had made.

"Ah thank you Alfred." You said grabbing the plate as you placed it on the counter next to you. "But I told you so many times you can call me y/n." You said before taking a piece of food that was on the plate.

"I don't get why you still bother with that." Dick said as he walked into the kitchen grabbing a plate as he started to fill it up with things he planned to eat for the morning.

You can't help but let out a huff of a chuckle as you poured Bruce and yourself a cup of coffee as you took a sip of the cup you poured for yourself.

"I know but I think I've been here long enough."

"Maybe a little too long." Jason said as he walked into the kitchen looking at you as he grabbed toast that was out and poured himself a cup of orange juice.

"Morning to you too Jason." You just replied with as you looked at him as you ate your breakfast, as you soon spotted Cassandra and Stephanie both coming into the kitchen together. "Morning you two."

"Morning y/n!" Steph said as she walked to the table. "Morning." Cass said right after also taking a seat at the table in the kitchen.

After that Tim walked in followed by Duke coming into the kitchen as well as you greeted them both as they entered.

Soon Bruce finally came down and you smiled as you saw him giving him a kiss on the lips, which caused Damian to turn his head rolling his eyes.

Once you pulled away from the kiss you handed Bruce the cup of coffee you had poured for him.

"So..." Cass said as she took a sip of her cup of tea. "When is y/n going to join us and get her own costume?" She asked, looking at the two of them.

You had a smile on your face but just shook your head at question as you rolled your eyes at it.

"Well-"

"Never." You cut off Bruce before he could finish.

"And why’s that?" Damian asked, raising his eyebrow at you.

"I just don't fight." You simply said as you drank your cottee.

With that Cass let out a sigh. "I was really hoping another girl would join." She mumbled

It was the afternoon. Bruce was out with Tim for a social event, you didn't come with them since Bruce knew you didn't like going to public events.

Dick and Damian were both in the batcave training with each other.

Duke was out on patrol.

Steph and Cass were most likely upstairs, hanging out with each other in either one of their rooms.

Jason was.. well who knows where Jason is half of the time.

And you? You were in the kitchen as you had started to prepare what you wanted to make for Bruce and yours anniversary dinner.

You had asked Alfred if he can get you one of the best wines that Bruce will like, and hearing the front door open and then close it brought to your attention his arrival back to the manor.

"Here you go Ms McGee." He said handing you the bottle of wine he had purchased.

"Thank you Alfred." You said happily, giving him a smile as you placed the wine in a cabinet before heading back over to season the meat once more.

After you had prepared the meat you put it back in the refrigerator, as you started to take out what you needed to make the sauce for the paste you heard the door ring.

"I'll get it Alfred!" You called out as you stopped what you were doing and headed to the door.

"Hello how can-" You stared as you opened the door but soon cut yourself off. "Natasha..." You said more softly as you saw the familiar red hair female in front of you.

"Well, look at you living the life." She said with a smile on her face as she looked at you through the sunglasses she was wearing.

"What are you doing here?.." Was all you can really think of as you just looked at her.

"I need your help." Natasha replied as she looked at you.

"If you need help go get help from S.H.E.l.L.D or the other avengers or something." You said in a low voice too scared anyone would hear you.

"It would only risk the mission." She told you in reply. "Besides, you know Gotham better than them or me." She added.

"Who is it?" You heard Alfred ask you.

"Oh it's no one." You replied, turning to look at him as you smiled. "Just a Girl Scout selling cookies." You told him, making him nod his head in reply before he walked away out of eye and earshot.

"Follow me..." You told Natasha as you moved out of her way, letting her enter before closing the door. You soon made your way up the room that Bruce had given you to do your pottery before closing it and locking it once Natasha entered.

"Do they know?" Natasha asked as she looked at you.

"No, why would they know?" You said as she took a seat in the stool that was in the room. "You helped me bury my past, I've been able to live in peace for 5 years... why would I ruin it?"

"I was just asking..." Natasha said as she looked around at the room that was mainly filled up with vases as she examined them.

You stood quite for a bit as you just observed her.

"What do you need my help with?" You finally asked.

"It has to do with the court of owls-"

"If it has to deal with the court of owls then don't worry, let the bat deal with it." You cut her off

“You didn't let me finish.” She said leaning against the wall as she crossed her arms as she looked at you.

After a few more seconds of silence Natasha finally spoke again. “It doesn't just have to do with the court of owls but also hydra.”

Heading that made you just stand there in shock. “Hydra and the court of owls are working together?..” You asked, making sure you understood what she was saying.

Natasha nodded her head. “I was following some hydra agents to Gotham trying to figure out why they were coming here.” She said as she walked a bit closer to you. “When I finally got to them after some integration they told me that they came here to meet the court of owls today and that they weren’t the only ones.” She told you.

“Did they tell you where they were going to meet them?” You asked.

“They didn’t but it wasn’t hard to find this.” She said going through her pocket as she handed you a small card.

Standing up grabbing it you turned it around to look at it until you spotted the location on the card.

“You think this is where they are meeting?”

“It has to be.. I’ve been watching them for weeks and they walked around the area close to this location more than I count.”

“…Did they tell you why they were meeting them?” You finally asked.

“No, that’s what I need to find out and why I want you to help me.” She answered. “It’s one thing if it was just hydra and the court of owls have never been a threat for us at S.H.E.I.L.D, but if they are starting to work with hydra then they’re becoming more of a threat not just in Gotham but outside.”

You just hummed, nodded your head in agreement. “Yeah�� it can’t be good. But I can’t help.” You told her. “Today is Bruce and I's 3rd year anniversary and I was planning on making dinner for us… you should ask someone else you know…”

“I would but not many of them are good at undercover missions and they won’t make it here on time.”

“I don’t do that anymore, you-“

“Y/n please.” Natasha cut you off. “I know you don’t do this anymore, but I’m not asking you as a former assassin, I’m asking you to help as a friend.” She told you. “I know you don’t want to do this type of work anymore, but you and I both know that if Hydra is here then it’s not good for you or this family you have.”

You stood quiet. You knew she was right, that was the whole reason why you never went out in public with Bruce, why you changed your last name, had a small quiet jobbed, why you did everything to hide your past.

It wasn’t because you were ashamed of your past or that you were trying to hide away from the red room (since you knew it was taken down by Natasha), but you were hiding cause you knew if anyone from hydra found you again they’ll “take back what’s theirs”.

“…no you’re right…” You said as you walked over to an old vase you had made. “It can’t be good for me or this family…. Even if they might be able to handle themselves.”

You soon pushed the vase to the floor causing it to break as it revealed what you had put inside. Your old widow suit, two pistols, and widows bite bracelet.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” You asked her as you picked up the items from the floor.

“An hour maybe 2.” Natasha answered. You just hummed at that as you went to put the items in a bag.

“Do you plan on us using a disguise, or are we just gonna break in?”

“Oh don’t worry, the two guys I got were given owl masks, we would have to use them to get in.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” You asked as you started to leave the room heading to the front as you grabbed your brown slouch coat.

“Alfred, I'm heading out with a friend.” You called out as Natasha followed, as she got a glance at the butler.

Alfred nodded his head as he looked over at the red head woman next to you.

“I understand, and who might you be.” He asked mostly to the other woman.

“An old friend.” Natasha replied as the two of you left the manner.

“Hmm I still look good in this.” You said to yourself a smile on your face as you looked at yourself in the mirror, checking yourself out in the black jumpsuit.

The two of you had gone to the apartment that Natasha was staying in, while in Gotham to pick up some things.

“I’m surprised it still fits.” She said a bit teasingly

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You raised your eyebrow as you looked at her.

“Just that you haven’t worn that thing in over 5 years.” She said as she walked over to you handing you a white owl looking mask. “You need this.”

“Thanks.” You responded as you put on your coat once more to hide the weapon that were attached to your body before putting the mask in the pocket.

You watched as Natasha do the same thing before the two of you walked out, heading the car she was using.

You got into the passenger seat at the same time as Natasha, and right as she started the car you two heard a phone ringing, and you knew instantly it was your phone.

Pulling it out you saw the caller ID was Bruce so you immediately picked it up.

“Hey y/n, Alfred told me you went out with an old friend?” You heard him through the other side of the phone.

“Oh yeah. I was actually going to call you about that right now…” You told him. “I didn’t know she would be here, but she wanted to catch up.”

“I didn’t know you knew many people outside of Gotham..” He said.

“Yeah… she's an old friend, we don't talk a lot…” you told him. “But I actually wanted to let you know we kind of got caught up with something. She needs my help with something.”

“What does she need your help with?”

“… pottery..” Was all you can think of saying.

“Pottery really?” Natasha mouths to you quietly as you look over at her seeing she’s holding in a laugh.

You just shrugged. “I didn’t know what else to say.” You mouth back to her quietly.

“Yeah, I don’t know a thing about pottery or what type of clay to use and I knew y/n can help me, sorry for taking her away from you for a while.” Natasha said loud enough so she can be heard through the other side of the phone.

“Yeah… we just left the place she’s staying at now so I can get what I need to teach her… so I’ll probably be late for the dinner I wanted to plan for us…” Was all you told him as you looked at the road in front of you.

“It’s okay… I got caught up in some work of my own, Dick, Tim, and Damian are coming with me for it.” He said, causing you to nod your head even though he can’t see you do it.

“Hmm then maybe I’ll get home before you.” You joked with a smile on your face.

“Hmm maybe, maybe.” He replied and you can just imagine him saying it with a smile on his face.

“Stay safe okay…”

“I will.”

“I love you Bruce..”

“I love you too y/n.”

And with that you hung up the phone, putting the phone away as you turned to look at Natasha.

“We should be at the place in 20 minutes.” She told you and you just donned your head in response letting out a deep sigh you didn’t realize you were holding.

A/n: time to work on part two now 😮‍💨

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authorhjk1 · 7 months ago

Note

Idk if you saw but Yuri of SNSD posted a bikini pic, hoping we can get a sunbae series out of that or just a quickie one shot? She’s driving me nuts lol.

Shore leave

(Kwon Yuri X Julie X Belle X Natty X Haneul X Male Reader)

"Captain!"

You tear your eyes off the controls and turn around. Your XO is standing behind you.

"We've just reported back that our mission was a success. We will enter Honolulu Harbor within twenty minutes."

"Prepare to surface the boat."

"Aye, captain."

Jackson turns to his left.

"Chief of the Watch, blow main ballast tanks!"

The chief of Watch replies.

"Blow main ballast tanks, aye. Blowing main ballast tanks."

You start to walk towards the captain's cabin to finish your report. There is no need for you to be standing around the control room. The thirty man crew can do this while asleep.

"All ahead one-third, surface!"

"Raising the planes!"

"Clear the baffles!"

Opening the door, you look back into the control room. Jackson is standing at its center, overlooking everyone's actions.

"Periscope raised."

The man behind him, Miller, is making sure that it's free to surface.

"Surface is clear!"

You step inside and close the door behind you.

"Surface! Surface! Surface!"

Jackson's command is the last you hear as your submarine is about to see daylight once more.

Stepping foot on land feels odd after forty days underwater. You try to walk as normal as possible, while your crew follows you off the boat. A group of soldiers walk in your direction.

"Captain."

The man salutes you and you do the same.

"Major."

He extends his hand for you to shake.

"Happy birthday, old man."

"Thank you."

You laugh, happy to see him again for the first time in years.

"You and your crew deserve some rest while you're here."

He hands you a couple black cards, which look like key cards to hotel rooms.

"You should stay at a fancier place than the barracks. Order from the lieutenant colonel."

"I appreciate it. Please give him my thanks."

"I will. Now get out of here."

The two of you pat each other's shoulder, before you keep walking.

"Skipper."

You acknowledge lieutenant Kang's presence. The young man is barely 22 years old, but his career has been impressive so far. The worst thing about him? He found out that you used to listen to kpop.

"Have you talked to the major yet, sir?"

"I did."

The two of you walk in silence, while the crew walks after you, until Kang can't hold it in anymore.

"Did he give me permission to-"

"He did. But you have to behave yourself, lieutenant. No drinking, no fights, or any other way to get yourself into trouble."

You know that he has a short temper. But you trust him not abuse your trust.

"Everyone is on leave. And you're allowed to go to their concert."

"Thank you, sir."

You sigh as you reach the car that the major has left for you. Most of your men will head to the barracks. You, Jackson and Miller all got a room at a hotel, being the highest ranking officers on board. And you're letting the young lieutenant tag along.

After checking in, you decided to head to the hotel's pool. Being trapped in a steel cage several miles underwater with thirty men can get on your nerves. And since it's your birthday, you're more than happy to relax and clean your body. Although the number one reason to why you're not in your room, taking a well deserved nap, are the women. You don't remember the last time you talked with a woman for over ten minutes within almost a year. Living in your barracks, training younger soldiers and going on missions that take more than a month, don't leave you with a lot of free time. And the last months had been stressful and draining.

You realize that there aren't many empty deck chairs left as you make your way through the rather crowded area around the pool.

"Skipper!"

You turn your head to see Jackson, who is already sitting on one of the chairs. Miller is sitting to his left, while one on the right still seems to be empty. Skipper is usually not the term captains are addressed with, and some would tell them to shut the hell up, but you're easygoing. At least on land, when you're not on a mission. As long as your men know that you're in charge, you don't really care what they call you.

"Well, you guys came out here really quick."

"Forty days. I need some sun, sir."

You smirk at Miller's complaint, before getting comfortable on the empty chair.

"Do you know how long we have, until we get going again?"

You shake your head at Jackson's question.

"I don't. But I know what our next mission is about."

The two men don't ask for more information, knowing full well that you're not gonna tell them in a public area like this one.

"Let's hope we can relax a little longer than last time."

"Agreed."

You close your eyes, while you listen to the two men chatting.

"I like it here. The weather is nice."

"Just the weather?"

When you open your eyes again, you realize that you've fallen asleep. Quickly looking to your left, you don't see Miller or Jackson.

"Bastards."

You mumble, knowing what they're up to. The three of you have been become good friends over the years. It would surprise you, if they weren't out and about right now, looking for a bar to take you to later today.

"Excuse me?"

You turn to your right, only now realizing that someone is sitting there.

Her face is hidden by her bucket hat and her sunglasses. But it's not her face you're focused on right now anyway. Your eyes quickly scan her barely clothed body. Her white bikini matches the bucket hat. Even without seeing her face, you can tell how beautiful she is.

"I apologize. I wasn't talking to you. I just realized that my friends ran off without me."

"Those are some great friends you have."

"Well, I can't blame them. I already overheard them talking about a party this morning."

"Oh a party? What's to celebrate?"

"It's my birthday today."

"Congratulations. I hope you have a great year."

"Thank you. It would already improve my year quite a lot, if I knew your name."

You see her chuckle at your attempt to flirt with her. She hesitates for a moment, before she answers.

"Yuri. Kwon Yuri."

"Nice to meet you."

You reach out your hand and she shakes it as you tell her your name.

Hers does sounds familiar, but you can't really tell.

"Are you here on vacation as well?"

You shake your head at her question.

"Not exactly. Me and my crew are just having a shore leave, while we wait for our next mission."

"Oh, you're in the military?"

"I am. Navy."

"Oh, that's so cool. Do you work on one of those big ships that are lying in the harbor nearby? I walked past them yesterday."

"No, I'm the captain of a submarine. We only got here a couple hours ago."

"Submarine? You don't hear that everyday."

You try to steer the conversation in another direction. There isn't much to talk about when it comes to your job anyways. At least not something you're allowed to talk about.

"So you're here on vacation?"

You haven't had the pleasure of sleeping with a woman for way too long. And you have to admit it's getting harder to restrain yourself. If your lucky and Yuri is down for something more than just talking...

"I am. I've been working a lot recently and thought I would take a break, now that my project is done."

"Your project?"

"I'm an actress."

"I'm actually not surprised to hear that. It would be a shame if someone beautiful like you didn't show her face on TV."

You bite your lip, knowing that you're going a little fast here. But if this the opportunity you were hoping for, you're definitely going to take it.

"Thank you. Although I like to think that I got this far because of my skills. Not because I'm pretty."

You nod in understanding.

"That's true. Have I seen you in anything? Or have you just started acting?"

"I've been doing this for a while, but I doubt you've seen me before."

"Okay, then. What genre do you usually do? Action? Romance?"

"I played a love interest of the male lead for my last project."

"Damn. Now I'm jealous of the guy who played him."

Yuri laughs, covering her mouth with her hand.

"You can't keep complementing me like this."

"Why not? I haven't seen a woman in over a month. I have to get everything out of my system at some point."

"Well, there are a lot of beautiful women here. I think you're being a little unjust by only giving me your attention."

Her smile tells you that she doesn't really mind at all. You make a point of looking around the area and the pool.

"Nope. I think I'm talking with the most beautiful woman here, right now."

"You can't stop, can you?"

Her amused smile makes you smile too.

"Like I said, I need someone to let this all out on."

You didn't expect Yuri to slightly bite her lip at your words. And then you realize that one could take your words in a different way.

"You really seem to be in need of some.... release."

You clear your throat.

"But you can keep going of course."

Yuri takes off her sunglasses and now smiles at you with her eyes as well. You already knew she was beautiful, but this is on another level. At the same time, you do feel like you've seen her before. Maybe in a movie?

"It's not like I don't like it..."

"I need more."

Yuri gives you a happy and proud smile, before you capture her lips once more. You pin her against your hotel room's door. The two of you engage in another kiss. It's filled with passion and lust. You've been waiting for this for months. You don't know the last time Yuri got off. But judging from how hard she is kissing you back, you guess that it has been a while for her too. Or she's just turned on as hell.

Your hands leave her waist and start to explore her exposed skin. Yuri yanks off her bucket hat and throws it behind you. Her hair is a little more messy now as her own hands roam your body. While one of yours trails along the strings of her bikini towards the knots on her back, one of hers uses a finger and slowly travels down your spine, giving you goosebumps. Your second hand is lazily drawing circles on her flat midriff before it playfully tugs at the strings right beneath her chest. Her other hand mirrors your circles, but on your chest. You can feel her paying extra attention to your large tattoo, which she looked at earlier a little too long.

While you keep your lips locked with hers, you start to slowly undo Yuri's knots on her back. She draws along the lines of your tattoo. A big anchor. An equally sized dragon is winding itself around it.

Once you are finished with the first knot, you feel Yuri's breath shake a little as you both give each other a second to breathe. But soon, you're back at it again. Her hand, previously on your back, is now on your hip as she plays with the waistband of your trunks. Another knot follows the first.

You are getting bolder, now that she allowed you to undo her bikini. You let your hands travel along her waist and up to her chest. Yuri breaks the kiss as she feels your hands over her top. You give her tits a squeeze, making Yuri let out a moan. She has a smile on her face again, her arms now loosely placed on your shoulders. Her head slowly rolls back as you keep kneading her soft mounds.

"Your hands feel great. I love it."

Yuri now lets her own travel down your figure, until they're reach your trunks once more. You reach behind her and finally undo her top, before slowly taking it off her. Taking in the sight of her tits, you stay in place for a moment. But then you feel Yuri undo the tie on the front of your boxers agonizingly slow. You finally look into her eyes. She stares back at you as her fingers do their work.

Once she is done, you feel her thumbs glide between your skin and the waistband. Slowly she pulls them down. Around halfway past your hips, your trunks fall to the floor on their own. Yuri has a satisfied smile on her face as she looks down on you.

After you'd taken off her bottoms too, there wasn't much time or need for foreplay. You led Yuri to your bed, where you lied down and had her lie on top of you. Now you're enjoying yourself, tasting her delicious pussy, while you feel her soft lips glide up and down on your shaft. The position enables you to freely do with her lower half what you want to. You knead her full cheeks and pull them apart occasionally, while you let your tongue glide along her labia, before sucking on her clit. Yuri's moans are almost silenced by your dick in her mouth, which sends shivers up your spine. You feel her hands on your thighs and as she picks up the pace, it almost seems like she is fucking her face onto your cock. Just the thought of that makes you put in even more effort.

Soon, they both of you have made a mess of each other. You can't help but groan into her pussy, whenever Yuri takes you as deep as she can. And Yuri moans and sometimes let's her fingernails glide over your thighs, whenever you let your tongue flick against her clit.

When you both feel the increasing need to finally be as intimate as possible, Yuri momentarily gets off you, before turning around. Her face gets closer to yours once more as she sinks herself down on you. Her soft mounds press against your chest, you feel her nipples rub against your skin. But that's not the best part. The best part is the way Yuri's tight snatch slowly takes you inside. It leaves you breathing a little faster, her wet lips wrapping themselves around your shaft as tight as possible. A satisfied smile lingers on Yuri's lips as she leans down to kiss yours. She is now lying flat on top of you. Her hands are playing with your hair, while yours rest on her lower back, occasionally darting out to give one of her cheeks a playful squeeze.

The two of you take it slow, enjoying each other's warmth and closeness. You were afraid you wouldn't last long at first, but the slow love making enables you to go longer than you expected. Yuri barely moves on top of you, slightly circling her hips, making your cock move inside of her. The two of you share one kiss after another. Her fingers comb through your hair. And she gives it a slight tug, whenever you hit the right spot inside of her. Yuri's breasts are pressed against your chest, her nipples rubbing against your skin.

Having your hands on her cheeks, you carefully start to move her back and forth. It brings more motion into the two of you. Yuri's lips find yours once more, while she lets out a moan, feeling her pussy glide along your cock. The more you make her move, the better it feels for the both of you. Your fingers begin to dig into her flesh and Yuri leaves a bite on your skin here and there. Looking up at her, you see her eyes are only half open, her eyelids heavy with pleasure.

"Oh my god."

Yuri lets out a loud sigh into your neck. It's the first time she spoke, since she took you inside. You feel her moving on her own now, so you let your hands travel along her back. Her hair is covering the both of you right now, serving as a makeshift curtain as it blocks out the sunlight.

Closing your eyes, you just enjoy the moment. How Yuri moves herself along your body on top of you. How her pussy glides along your shaft, her wet walls squeezing every inch. How her nipples move over your skin. How her moans reach your ear, whenever she doesn't lock her lips with yours.

"Yuri..."

You took too long. Focusing on the moment, feeling this gorgeous woman on top of you. You realize there is no turning back, the moment you open your eyes. Yuri bites her lower lip, looking down on you. She nods, giving you permission to finish what the two of you started.

You quickly reach down her back, your arms wrapping around her lower back, right above her ass. Instinctively, you let your legs slip out from underneath her and raise them, burying your heels into the mattress.

"Oh wow."

Yuri lets out a gasp. To her it feels like you just gained another inch. You start to fuck her now. A little faster than she moved before. Her arms now lying next to your shoulders, supporting her weight as she pushes her upper body higher. You can't stop yourself. Taking in the sight of her beautiful tits right in front of you, you fuck Yuri harder. She can't help but smile down on you, flattered by the way you seem to love every single part of her body.

"Yuri..."

You sigh her name once more. Yuri let's out a moan herself a moment later. She feels your cock twitching inside of her. You raise your hips a little higher, which makes you lift hers too. More and more of your cum invades Yuri's tight cavern, making her head sink onto yours once more.

The two of you stay in place, even after both of you have calmed down. Yuri is still lying on top of you. She has moved a little further down though to be able to comfortably place her head on your chest. Her toned midriff is pressed against your cock. You feel her fingers trace over your tattoo once more.

"You know...."

Yuri starts to talk after a while.

"My room is two floors higher. 5003. Just in case you..."

You crack a smile, your hand slowly stroking her hair.

"I will keep that in mind."

"Are you telling me that everyone is coming?"

You sigh, already knowing that this night will not end well. You expected the three guys to throw you a low profile party at a bar. Just the four of you.

"Yes, everyone. Plus, everyone else who is at the barracks and gets to go out tonight."

"Oh that's just great. How many men is that?"

Miller shrugs his shoulders.

"Fifty?"

You give him a disapproving glare. Now you wish you'd have stayed longer in bed with Yuri.

"Oh come on. They all love you. You know you have a reputation, right? No failed mission? Highest success rate?"

"So?"

Miller leads you down a long street which is taking you further to the beach.

"That doesn't mean I have to like that you invited fifty people."

"Relax, skipper."

He gives you a pat on the shoulder as you two reach the bar the three of them found earlier today. Looking to your right, you see the sunset. The sea is coloured in a beautiful orange. You'd have loved to take a moment and take in the view. You haven't seen a sunset in over a month. But Miller destroys your plan by opening the door. Music and shouts invade your ears. You walk inside, followed by Jackson, Miller and Kang. Most of the tables, around 10, are filled by men in uniforms, while two are occupied by other guests. One group looks like tourists, while the other makes you look at four gorgeous faces. Even after you were able to have sex with Yuri, you can't help but glance at the four girls a second longer. They all look significantly younger than you, with the girl on the far right looking like she just got fresh out of high school.

"Captain!"

One of the men spotted you and is now standing up. The laughter and chatter dies down. The other soldiers follow his example. You wait until everyone is standing. You hear Miller's voice behind you.

"Told you. Reputation."

You sigh as you look around. It seems like some of the men already had a couple of drinks.

"At ease."

As everyone sits back down, you notice how the group of tourists and the four girls all look very surprised by what's going on.

Suddenly, you hear Jackson groan in annoyance and you quickly realize why. There aren't any empty seats. Or rather, the only empty seats left are the ones at the table of the four girls. You see Miller stepping towards the nearest table, probably to get you a place to sit, but you grab his shoulder.

"It's fine. I was hoping for a relaxed night anyway."

The four of you walk through the bar and past some of the tables. Some of the men greet you individually, raising their glasses, or congratulating you.

"Hi. Are these empty, or are you waiting for someone?"

"No, they're empty. Please."

One of the girls spoke and is now gesturing towards the empty seats. You walk around the table and sit against the wall, next to the girl who looks the youngest. Jackson joins you on the bench, while the other two sit opposite from you.

You take one more look around the table. You can tell the girls are a little shy to restart their conversation now. The girl next to the youngest tugs her short black hair behind her ear, before taking a sip of her drink.

The girl across from her is the one who invited the four of you to sit down. You can't help but stare at her lips for a moment as she finally says something to the girl next to her. You can't understand it, but it sounds like Korean.

The girl she is speaking to is sitting next to Miller. She looks cute. Not as cute as the girl next you, but still kinda adorable. She seems to answer the other girl, before she takes out her phone.

When the waitress reaches your table, the four of you order. The girls seem to have picked up their conversation. At one point it looks like the girl next to you asked a question. A question none of them seems to have the answer too. You're surprised when Kang suddenly says something in Korean. You've noticed that he has been unusually quiet this entire time. You can't blame him. The four girls are stunning. But somehow it seems like something else has held him back so far.

The girls are surprised by Kangs answer. They probably didn't expect him to understand them.

Haneul's cheeks burn red with embarrassment. Why is he only saying now that he knows Korean? Her worried face glances at the man next to her. The man who seems to be in charge. She didn't expect anyone to understand her, apart from her members, when she admitted she found him hot, barely four minutes ago.

She was already afraid that he had caught her glancing at him from time to time. But now, she has to worry that his friend will tell him what she said. Haneul bows her head and thanks the man who spoke Korean, hoping he won't say anything. The other girls already teased her enough about her confession.

When the waitress comes back and placed the drinks in front of the soldiers, Haneul can feel how the man next to her relaxes further. He spreads his legs wider to get more comfortable. Now hers touch his. She can't help but bit her lip at the seemingly innocent connection. She isn't as bold as Julie or Natty, who would've placed their hands on his thigh and flirted with him. She hates herself for that. Haneul knows she needs to at least practice. Talking to her fans is easy. So why can't she do that with strangers as well?

"I'm surprised you know Korean."

Haneul looks up at Julie's words, which were directed at the man who answered her question.

"My parents are Korean. It's like my first language."

"Ah, that's cool."

"I have to admit, I'm a fan of you, girls. I'm going to the concert tomorrow."

"Oh, that's amazing."

Natty seems genuinely happy. While the three girls deepen the conversation with their fan, Haneul glances at the man next to her once more.

"Oh, fuck!"

Her inner self screams when he suddenly locks eyes with her. Haneul doesn't know if she should look away or not. But he smiles at her. And turns a little towards her.

"What's your name?"

"I'm Haneul."

Haneul gives you one of the cutest smiles you've ever seen. And the words slip out of your mouth, before you can think about them.

"You have a beautiful smile."

As the night deepens, you step outside, feeling the cold night air on your face. Haneul is walking out behind you. After her come Jackson, Miller and Kang and the other girls. It was one of them, Julie if you remember correctly, who suggested all of you should go for a walk on the beach.

You got to know all four girls quite well, who seem to be in a kpop group called kiss of life. They are all charming and beautiful, but it seems like you and Haneul have hit it off very well.

The two of you continue to talk as you walk past the palm trees and finally reach the sand.

"This is so beautiful."

Haneul can't fight the urge to take a couple of pictures of the star glazed night sky.

"It is."

You look at her and Haneul seems to catch on as she lowers her phone and turns to you. Her shy smile makes you chuckle, before you focus back on the stars.

"Haneul... Your name means sky, right?"

She looks at you in surprise.

"You speak Korean?"

"A little."

"Oh, you should've told me earlier."

You see her biting her lip and her cheeks slightly becoming darker. Is she embarrassed about something?

You hear laughter behind you. The two of you turn around. You roll your eyes as you watch Miller kissing one of the girls.

Haneul lets out a gasp as she sees Julie and one of the soldiers exchange a kiss. His hands are on her waist and Julie's are on his shoulders. Haneul is embarrassed, but at the same time, she is glancing at you, wondering how it would feel like to kiss you. Then she sees Natty and your other friend laugh together, arms locked. She watches how he slowly leans down, capturing the Thai girl's lips with his own.

You can tell Haneul has gotten more nervous over the last ten seconds.

"We don't need to do what they're doing, if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Huh?"

Haneul turns to you, her eyes wide open. You hesitate, but it seems like she does want you to kiss her. You place a hand on her shoulder and eventually lower it a little. Further and further, until you reach her small waist. Haneul's eyes are glued to yours the whole time. But you catch them darting down to your lips from time to time.

Once your hand is on her waist, you pull her closer. You press her body against your own and you can feel her perky tits rub against your body, right underneath your chest. Leaning down, you see Haneul closing her eyes.

She seems so different from Yuri. Maybe it's her age or inexperience. But it doesn't make her any less attractive.

Your lips meet and you have to admit that Haneul's lips feel softer than you thought they would. You let your hand slowly wander over her back as you deepen the kiss. Haneul melts into you, her own hands pulling slightly at your shirt.

"Look at those two lovebirds."

Your kiss is interrupted by Julie's cheeky remark. You realize that you and Haneul have been standing like this more than a couple of seconds. For you, it felt like a short moment. But the other six are all looking at you.

"We are waiting for your answer, skipper."

"For what?"

You seem to have missed the question. A proud but shy smile appears on Haneul's face.

"Are you okay with all of us heading to the nearest hotel?"

You wonder why they're asking. They could just take off. It's not like they're on duty or something. But then you catch how Natty is casually leaning against Jackson, while her hand seems to be placed on Miller's back. While Kang, despite having his hands on Belle's waist, seems to exchange a knowing smile with Julie.

Their plan quickly dawns on you and you look down at Haneul. By now, you're pretty sure that Haneul wouldn't oppose to a night together. But, even if you have to share, the idea of being able to be with all four of them almost makes your head spin.

"What do you say?"

Despite the darkness, Haneul's cheek are laced with a darker red than ever before.

"I-I wouldn't mind."

The way to the hotel room was uneventful. You could tell Haneul was still nervous, but you managed to calm her down by taking her hand in yours while you walked. The receptionist raised an eyebrow when you told her all eight of you would share a room for the night. But she didn't say anything and just gave you the key card to a slightly bigger room.

Now you sit on the edge of the bed, looking down on Haneul. She is fumbling around with your belt. Miller is sitting on your left with Julie kneeling in front of him. The other four are on the other side of the bed behind you.

You can't help but watch as Julie opens her mouth and takes Miller's cock into her mouth. She is definitely more experienced than Haneul, who only got your pants off now. You catch her hesitating, but a moment later, she pulls your boxers down as well. Her wide open eyes are focused on your cock. She slowly opens her mouth as well. Reaching out, you take her cheek in your hand, encouraging her. Haneul's eyes smile up at you as her pretty lips close around your tip.

Your head rolls back as you feel her tongue moving around. You're so glad you and Yuri had fun earlier today. Otherwise, Haneul's cute face would've made you cum right there.

She lets her tongue dance around for a moment, before pressing it underneath your cock. You feel her taking more of you inside her mouth. On instinct, your hand moves up to the top of her head. You can't help but stroke her hair as Haneul does her best to pleasure you.

"Good girl."

You groan, when you feel her sucking on your cock properly. You expected her to have no experience at all. But it seems like Haneul does know just enough.

You glance to your left once more as you hear someone choking. Julie has placed her hands flat on Miller's thighs and is almost face fucking herself onto his cock.

Haneul can feel that you got harder by looking at those two. She takes a deep breath and then lets her lips glide further down your shaft. The younger girl can't compete with Julie, but you're more than happy with what she is doing. You reach behind her to hold her hair back, focusing only on Haneul.

"You're doing great."

You can't help but praise her. She looks so cute, while she sucks you off.

Haneul places her hands on your thighs as well and looks up at you. Almost as if she's asking for permission. You nod, curious to see what she's going to do.

"Damn."

You groan when you feel her throat tighten around you as she pushes her head down further. She quickly begins to cough and choke. Haneul's spit starts to leave her mouth. It gets all over your cock, your lap, her shirt and her thighs. But she tries to keep going, bobbing her head up and down.

"Don't close your mouth, open it wide."

You almost jump when you hear Julie's voice right next to you. She is kneeling next to Haneul, her arm stretched out as she keeps jerking off Miller's wet cock.

Haneul retreats, letting your own cock fall out of her mouth.

"Relax your throat when you first take all of it. It makes it easier."

Haneul listens closely to Julie's words.

"Like this."

Your hands dig into the sheets as Julie suddenly decides to deepthroat you. You can feel how she is forcing her jaw open wide enough to take all of you inside. Haneul watches in awe as the other girl bobs her head up and down. Julie doesn't even choke this time, her throat relaxed enough to take it all.

You notice how she still doesn't stop stroking Miller's cock. From behind you, you hear Jackson groan something.

You have to distract yourself like this, not wanting to cum early. Julie is doing an amazing job and now backs away to give Haneul another chance.

The younger girl tries to imitate Julie and takes most of your cock inside her mouth at once. You feel how she is able to take more now, her throat almost greedily sucking on your cock.

"That's it."

Julie smiles at her, before letting go of Miller's cock. She spits into her hand and wraps it around his length once more, making sure her saliva is all over shaft.

Haneul has now lifted her once more, letting her lips glide along your length.

"You're doing great."

Julie pats the back of Haneul's head. When she looks up at you, the older girl gives you a seductive wink. Before you can react, Julie pushes Haneul's head down, deep into your lap.

"Take it all, baby."

Her voice is still sweet and carrying, but her hand on Haneul's back makes the younger girl choke and gag.

And then, Julie uses Haneul's mouth to jerk you off. She lifts her head up and down, making her lips glide along your cock.

You barely notice that Miller is now standing next to Julie. She's sucking him off once more, but making sure she is fucking Haneul's face onto your cock at a steady pace.

You feel bad for Haneul. But at the same time, you can barely hold it together. Her tight throat just feels so damn amazing. The way her whole mouth almost takes in all your cock. The way her saliva gets everywhere. The way she gags whenever your tip hits the back of her throat.

You sigh in relief when Julie lets go off Haneul's head and focuses back on Miller. Haneul takes you in deep a couple of times more, before she finally backs away. Her big eyes and the strings of her saliva connecting her lips with your cock make her look so cute but sexy at the same time.

You reach out and wipe the spit off her lips. To your surprise, Haneul sucks on your thumb in return.

"Get on the bed."

You guide her to her feet and make her lie on her back. She watches you as you now undo her shorts. Glancing behind her, you can see how Natty is giving Jackson a titjob, while Belle is giving Kang head too.

But you focus back on Haneul as you pull her pants off of her.

You push the small piece of fabric that is covering her pussy to the side, exposing her snatch.

Haneul gasps when she feels your lips touch her thighs. She expected you to head straight for her core, but you tease first. It only takes you a couple of kisses, before her eyes silently beg for you to pay attention to her pussy.

You take both her thighs in your hands, spreading them apart so you have enough room. You kiss her right next to her lower lips, making her sigh in frustration. When you finally do let your tongue glide along her lips, Haneul's head rolls back. Her eyes close and her hands grab the sheets as you begin to eat her out.

The young girl's moans echo through the room. She occasionally lets out a small squeal or sigh whenever you suck on her clit. By now, one hand has moved to your head as she is slightly pulling at your hair, trying to get your tongue deeper inside of her. The other covers her mouth as Haneul tries to reduce the volume of her moans. She doesn't want to be the loudest in the room. Embarrassment is still colouring her cheeks.

But she doesn't have to worry much, when she hears Julie moaning shamelessly next to her. Miller is lying next to Haneul on his back, while Julie is riding his face. The older girl throws her head back and grinds against him, while his hands hold her waist.

Haneul almost jumps when Natty's face suddenly appears above her head. Jackson made her get on all fours on the bed and is now eating her out from behind. Natty basically moans into Haneul's face. The younger girl can't help herself. The Thai girl just looks so amazingly hot like that. She reaches upward with her free hand. Natty gladly follows Haneul's guidance and lowers her head. The two girls share one deep kiss after another.

As they both loose themselves in the sea of pleasure, Natty's limps grow weak. She gets lower and lower as they break their kiss. Finally, Natty is almost lying on top of Haneul. The younger girl's face meets Jackson's. She hesitates, but eventually she captures his lips with her own. She can taste Natty's juices.

You do the same with the Thai girl. You share a deep kiss with her, while she slowly inserts a finger into Haneul's pussy. The younger girl moans louder now, but you pull away and stand up. Natty follows your movements and invitingly opens her mouth. You push your cock past her lips.

Looking past her, you see that Jackson is doing the same with Haneul. While the two girls lie on top of each other, they give the two of you head.

"Damn."

You groan, acknowledging how skilled Natty is. She definitely did this more often than Haneul. You feel her tongue doing all kinds of tricks as she keeps her lips sealed around your length. You place a hand on top of her head and give her mouth shallow thrusts.

As you use Natty's mouth, you watch Julie, who keeps riding Miller's face. Seems like she got a hold of the lieutenant as well. Kang is standing on the bed, right in front of her. One of Julie's hands is wrapped around his length, while her lips are sealed around his shaft as well. Her other hand is entangled in Miller's hair.

Wait, where is Belle?

She catches your eye as she slowly crawls over the bed towards you. Just when she's about to reach you, you reach for her face, pulling her up by her chin. Belle smiles at you, before the two of you share a kiss. It doesn't last long, because Belle now reaches down to have a taste of your cock as well.

Natty starts to moan all over your cock when Jackson slowly pushes his cock inside of her. You watch her eyes roll as she suddenly finds herself trapped between the two of you. When Jackson pushes forward, he basically makes her take you down her throat. Belle makes sure that even your base is cared for, while Natty becomes helpless.

Belle suddenly gasps in surprise when Miller reaches around her waist and pulls her body towards him. Julie is already an all fours while Kang fucks her from behind. The older man now puts Belle into the same position. But instead of fucking her, you catch how he starts to eat her ass. The younger girl quickly turns into a moaning mess. Her and Julie both exchange one kiss after another.

Looking down on yourself again, you notice how Natty is starting to drool all over Haneul's beautiful pussy. It now looks so wet and so good, you can't help yourself. You almost have to push Natty's head off your cock for her to leave you alone. Now her moans are louder. You reach down and place two fingers on Haneul's clit. You feel her jump at the sudden touch, but when you start playing with her, you hear her moan as well.

"Damn, Natty. Haneul is such a tight girl."

"Yeah, she is. Such a tight cunt."

You make Natty watch as you slowly penetrate Haneul's glistening folds. The older girl keeps drooling all over the younger girl's pussy, coating your cock in her saliva as well.

"Does she feel good for you? Is she being a-"

A particularly hard thrust leaves Natty speechless for a moment.

"Is-Is she being a good little girl for you?"

"Yes, she is."

You take a hold of Natty's chin and make her look up at you.

"You like it when your friend is a slut?"

She eagerly nods, another moan leaving her mouth.

"Do you want to see how I use her tight pussy like a fleshlight?"

You talk a little louder, making sure Haneul can mentally prepare herself.

"Yes, yes, yes. Fuck her like the slut she is."

As Natty talks, you feel Haneul's legs close around you in conformation. It seems like the younger girl has lost all of her shyness by now.

You properly take a hold of her thighs and start to fuck Haneul's pussy. A moment later, you hear a string of moans and whines leave her lips. You watch how Jackson momentarily pulls out of Natty and thrusts down into Haneul's wide open mouth. You doubt the young girl has ever had two cocks inside of her at once. The two of you alternate between both of their mouths and pussies, turning the two of them into begging messes.

"Are you really going to-Oh god!"

You glance to your right as you hear a loud yelp. Belle is now on top of Miller, who is sitting on the bed. Her feet are planted on his thighs, her hands are holding onto his wrists. His own hands are on her waist.

"You're so big, oh god!"

He makes Belle take his cock into her ass. Slowly at first, before he starts to pick up the pace a little. You can't help but notice how good her pussy looks as well. Not as good as Haneul's to be honest though.

You don't really remember how you ended up in this position. After Haneul, you do remember being inside of Julie and the Belle. Now, you're lying on the bed and Haneul is on top of you. She's facing you, her hands on your chest, supporting her weight. To your left, the other three couples have gotten into the same position. The three guys and you are all lying down, while the four girls are each riding someone. At some point, the four of them all got into the same rhythm. They all lift themselves upwards and then impale themselves on their partner below at the same time.

"I-I think I'm gonna...."

Haneul's voice gets cut off when your cock is finally too much for her. You could tell she's kept it in for a while now, just to be on the same level as the other three. But now she finally becomes undone, shaking on top of you. Her snug pussy twitching around your cock. You hold onto her waist, making sure she doesn't fall down.

The next one to go is Belle. She is riding Jackson, who's lying next to you. With a loud gasp, she joins Haneul in her orgasmic state. When Haneul finally calms down, she looks at you.

"I-I need a break."

You nod, noticing that she really is out of breath. You help her with climbing off of you. As Haneul lies down, you get up. The fact that she just came on top of you has you longing for more. And the way Belle has started to pick up her pace once more, indicates she can take more as well.

Now kneeling behind her, you reach around her body and cup her breasts. Her bounces slow down and you move a little closer. Jackson reaches behind her and pulls Belle's cheeks apart.

"Why are you-"

She gets the answer a second later as she feels your tip push pass the tight ring of her ass.

"Oh! Oh, god! I've never taken this much before!"

You thrust inside of her, making Belle almost fall forward.

Jackson and you start to work together. Whenever you push inside Belle, his hands on her ass push her upwards as well. It makes her take even more of you, while her pussy glides along his shaft. And then you almost pull out of her as you pull her down with you, impaling her on his cock.

"Oh, yes! Ruin me!"

Belle quickly gets into it, the feeling of having two holes filled overwhelming her.

"Fuck, that's so hot."

Julie sighs on your right, who is riding Kang's cock. Next to her is Natty doing the same with Miller. The two guys exchange a look.

"Hey, wait!"

Natty complains, but Miller ignores her. He pushes her off of him and kneels behind Julie. The oldest has a mischievous grin on her face.

"Oh, yes. Give it to me, boys."

She moans loudly when the two of them start to fuck her ass and pussy as well. She doesn't seem to care at all that Natty just lost her own opportunity to feel good.

You motion her to come closer and Natty quickly crawls towards you. After she lies on her back, you hold Belle with only one hand and insert two fingers of your other one into Natty's wet pussy.

All three girls are now moaning together again, while Haneul is still lying on the side. Still recovering.

"Fuck."

You groan into Belle's ear, desperately trying to fight the urge to bite into her naked shoulder. Her ass is just so tight. It feels so good. That tight ring of her muscles keeps squeezing the life out of you, while you feel can feel Jackson's cock inside of her as well.

"Oh my god."

Belle sighs and moans. By now, she has become dead weight. It's up to you and Jackson to move her up and down, while you use her holes. Eventually, her strength leaves Belle's whole body. She collapses on top of Jackson. He's still inside her pussy and now you start to fuck Belle's ass a little faster. You make her body rock back and forth on top of him.

Natty seizes that opportunity and quickly climbs on top of Belle. You hear Jackson groan, you can't tell if it's their combined bodies on top of him, or just Belle's snatch. Either way, you're now able to switch between the two girls.

You pull out of Belle's snug ass and push inside Natty's pussy.

"Oh, yes. Fuck me hard."

The older girl sighs, backing her ass up a little bit more.

"Oh, that's it. You're gonna give us your cum?"

Julie's words push you towards the edge as you feel her hand quickly stroking your cock. The four girls are all kneeling on the floor in a circle, their backs up against each other. The four of you each stand in front of one of them.

Kang is the first to finish. With a loud groan, he cums all over Natty. Her face and her tits are painted waited after only a couple of seconds. Belle is the second one to get hit. Miller unloads all over her face as well, some of his cum hits her hair and Haneul as well.

Julie puts your cock into her mouth as well, urging you on to not leave her hanging. At the same time, Jackson orgasms too, painting Haneul's face. The youngest gasps at the rather unfamiliar feeling. But before she can say anything, Belle already captures her lips with her own. The two girls engage in a messy, cum filled make out session.

You suddenly feel a second pair of lips on your cock. Natty's painted face greats you as she eagerly lets her lips wander along your length.

"Fuck."

You groan, the two girls quickly getting you to the point of no return.

When they realize you're about to cum, they both lean back. They use their hands to push their tits together. Mouths wide open and tongues out. Natty closes her eyes, while Julie looks straight up at you.

You finally finish, painting both of their faces and tits. The sight in front of you almost makes you hard again already as you see the two girls sharing your cum.

You thought your birthday would've already been the highlight of your shore leave. But you're proven wrong, when you wake up the next day to a snap from your new friend.

#ask #anon #kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #snsd yuri #snsd smut #snsd #kwon yuri #yuri smut #julie kiss of life #haneul kiss of life #natty kiss of life #belle kiss of life #kiss of life smut #kiss of life

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shanastoryteller · 1 month ago

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Hi, long time reader. Thank you for your incredible brain and bringing your writing into the outside world. You might have answered it before but I don’t remember ever seeing it. How many times do you read/watch/refer to your source material? Like, do you decide to rewatch a series once every couple of years or do you watch it once, get inspired and then mostly focus on your own interpretation

hi! thank you! :)

answering publicly because it got kinda long and i thought other people might be interested

it depends! usually on how closely a fic is in conversation with the source material and if i've consumed it recently. like for my dead boy detective fic, i'd just watched it, i didn't need to review anything, and i'm often inspired to write after reading/watching

i haven't read harry potter since maybe high school, possibly middle school. i was 13 when deathly hallows came out and i remember being so underwhelmed by it, especially since i hadn't really liked half blood prince either, and i don't think really reread it after. for siat i just use sparknotes or google something something if i can't remember because for a long time it was in pretty close conversation with canon. i'd literally read the sparknotes for a couple chapters, think about how i wanted that to go in my fic, and update the outline. my other hp fic i'd just google something if i couldn't remember

while writing lynchpin, which was very in conversation with canon, i'd literally watch an episode, or to a certain point in the episode, then go and write until that point. i had stuff and arcs in mind, but that's how i kept pace and made sure i didn't miss anything on accident. however, i haven't watched untamed since completing lynchpin, which was my first untamed fic, but nothing else has been so closely in conversation with canon

i didn't consume any canon prior to writing my avengers fic because what good would it do me lol. speak of her is directly after infinity war pt 2 which i've never seen. i just knew that tony died and i thought it was bullshit

at the rind was while i was in the middle of a house rewatch, but anything after season 4/5 i probably googled because that's when i thought the show started to decline

pour herbel oil was definitely in pretty close conversation with the canon. i did with nirvana in fire kind of what i did with untamed, watching any scene with yujin and figuring out how i wanted to slide it a little to the left

supernatural is probably one where i'm most frequently checking the source material directly. this is partially because i first watched it a looooong time ago (like watched real time through most of season 4, although i really hated what they were doing with dean, then fully fell off when season 5 started because i hated the direction it was going so much) and because the boys and their relationship have gone through so many arcs and cycles that i want to make sure i'm hitting them both correctly for the time period they're in. see something say something i'd rewatch the episodes with cases i was including, but not much else, but that fic is probably in the least conversation with canon. back was a direct result of me rewatching when the levee breaks and hating it. no safe investments was just me being like, i think dean should have crashed out waaaay more about sam dying the first time. once i decided to expand the great puzzle i rewatched season 5 so i'd know what i'm working with and it was a SLOG at times, especially early season 5, because the way sam is treated just fills me with rage. but it's like, if i'm going to have the boys dig themselves out of this hole of bullshit, i need to know how deep it goes

so the broad answer is usually not at all, except with specific fics that are in such close conversation with canon that i have to make sure i'm hitting the timeline/references right. i have a pretty good memory so unless we're getting that specific, i don't feel the need to review source material that i haven't in a while

#asks #shortcircuit1212

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juletheghoul · 10 months ago

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distraction

a/n: I'm as shocked as you probably are with posting a full chapter today, along with a pretty extensive ask on Friday but here we are. I don't know why this character has inspired such devotion and creativity in me but I am not going to question it. This might be the most toxic chapter yet lol and If you aren't into it. no hard feelings! This is un beta-ed, any mistakes are my own. Shout out to @foli-vora for being a light in a pretty rough week, and for listening to all of my rants and tangents. Love you girlie! 🩷Hopefully you enjoy!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, gladiatorial violence, exhibitionism, Marcus being a possessive, jealous mess, creampie, heavily leaning into the ownership aspect of their 'relationship', master / slave dynamic (power imbalance), Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus, let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.7k

reblogs are appreciated

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The sun rose, much like it did on every other day, and you rose with it.

With a yawn and a stretch you dressed, cursing at the way your tunic tattered at the seams. You’d have to mend it later, you made a mental note to remember as you rushed to start on your chores for the day.

You found him splashing water from the jug and basin in his room, and moved quickly and quietly to help him dress for the day ahead. Silently he moved throughout the room, letting you adjust his clothes so they looked their best, he let you push his hair into place and to take the basin to be emptied while he made his way to his study. The sun was still high in the sky when the messenger came for him, bringing him the invitation from the Emperor himself to oversee the gladiatorial games in honour of his victory. His brow furrowed at the news, he would be in the pulvinus with the Emperor along with other Romans of proper birth.

He didn’t take the news well, to him it was a folly. He had absolutely no wish to be celebrated, as far as he was concerned, his march into the city had been more than enough but he could not deny the invitation. So with a clench in his jaw and a number of frustrated sighs, he accepted, and set about making the preparations.

The day of the games came and as his constant shadow, you followed to see to his needs and to pour for him. It was difficult to keep the excitement in check, every so often you’d glance down to your new tunic, bright white with details of gold to match your Dominus. Despite your many years of service, none of the people you’d served before had ever brought you to the arena, let alone in the presence of the Emperor, or in such a high seat as the pulvinus. Your march through the city towards the Colosseum was filled with cheers and the screams of people clamoring to see the General of the Roman army up close.

He did his duty, waved and smiled for their benefit despite his great discomfort, and you did your duty as well–kept your head down, and your attention on him.

The pulvinus was blessedly covered by rich fabrics, shielding the esteemed guests and slaves alike from the unforgiving rays of the sun. With his cup full, and his attention with the Emperor, you used the moment of reprieve to take in the sights. The opening games had come and gone and now the main event was to start. The gladiators filed out and took their place, awaiting the words that would set them on their path of violence.

They were a mixed batch of fighters, all of them fearsome in their own way. There was a small, stocky one, his face was all anger and his arms were covered in scars. There was one that towered over them all, his arms and legs long enough to keep anyone from getting too close. There were twins, both of them smiling for the crowd, clearly favoured from the cheers they inspired. There was another, and he was the one that drew your eye. His hair was black as coal with eyes to match and although on the leaner side, the strength in his limbs was obvious. His sword hand flexed at the hilt and you watched him twirl the weapon, test its weight before he looked up to the pulvinus, in truth he reminded you of your Dominus; twenty years younger.

He smiled up in your direction and your stomach twisted, for a moment you imagined your Dominus down in the sand, fighting for the crowd and it thrilled you. You imagined meeting him as a younger man, what he might have been like, what might he think of you?

“Girl.” His voice cut through your musing, his cup outstretched and you stumbled for only a heartbeat, imperceptible to anyone but him. His eyes tracked what had distracted you, and found the young Gladiator smiling still, and said nothing. His mood soured though and at once you chastised yourself for letting the arena distract you.

Marcus introduced the main games, the Primus, and he did so without flair, without embellishment but it mattered not, the people screamed and the men before you fought for their lives against a myriad of challengers. You kept your eye on your Dominus, on his cup but the young gladiator –Varus– kept drawing your attention, he looked so like your General that you idly wondered if he could be his son, could he have fathered him during his younger years? It was known to happen, did he see the resemblance? Did anyone?

Varus is relentless, and despite making sure your Dominus’ needs are met your eyes track him, enraptured. It is difficult to be sure who it is he smiles at when he glances up in your direction, it is most likely the high-born Roman women. His skill is undeniable, and again your thoughts drift to a younger, wilder Marcus, would your general have given you those smiles so brazenly at that age?

“He does like to put on a show does he not?” One of the high born ladies remarks and you cannot help but watch as Varus laughs, cutting down those who challenge him with ease, even as some of his brothers fall. “Look how he smiles, he is of a form today.” They giggle between themselves as he points his sword in tribute towards them, or you, or the Emperor, it is hard to tell.

“He definitely draws the eye.” Marcus speaks, agreeing with them, but you hear his displeasure and when you meet his eyes they are already focused on you. Your stomach drops at the look of displeasure on his face, your momentary lapse had not been taken lightly. Heat and embarrassment fill you to the brim and from then on your eyes find themselves downcast. “More wine, girl.” His tone is colder than you’ve ever heard it, enough to set your nerves alight.

“Yes Dominus.” Your tone, in turn, is demure and humble and you pray to the Gods that you get through the games without embarrassing him further.

Varus and the twins stand victorious, and the crowd loves them for it, enough to shake the ground with their cheers but you keep your head down. With your error, you expected Marcus to excuse himself and make his way home once the games were over but it wasn’t to be. The Emperor had arranged for his guests to exchange words with the victors, and so down into the sand you went, following where your Dominus went on shaky legs.

Up close, Varus was taller than your General, but not by much. He was strong, and lean, and covered in blood and gore, it did nothing to take away from his allure. It didn’t seem to bother him, if anything, it only made him more appealing. The resemblance was there, not as close as you’d imagined but there was something there, in the profile, in the gaze, he was a handsome man, but no one held a candle to Marcus in your eyes.

The Emperor bestowed words of congratulations, and they bowed dutifully. Varus smiled, boldly, unbothered by the ire of your Dominus, his eyes wandered and when they found you they raked over your form unabashedly. He drank in the sight of your thighs through the slit in your tunic, in the curve of your neck and although you had no real interest in this man, you couldn’t help but fidget.

Your Dominus clenched his jaw, but offered his good will all the same, albeit in a curt manner and once the pleasantries were exchanged, you were blessedly away from the arena, and off towards the villa once more. He’s eerily quiet on the trek back home, even for him and although he’s usually quite forgiving despite his gruff exterior, you pray to the Gods that you haven’t offended him past the point of return. His horse whinnies underneath him while you and his personal guard follow behind, and all at once he is off his horse and handing off the reins.

“Come girl, I have business here.” He barely looks at you, but you rush to follow where he leads, down a quiet street away from the chaos of the day. You have to take two steps for every one of his in order to stay close. You take it as a good sign, that he calls on you to attend to him after the business in the pulvinus, and you steel yourself to serve to the best of your ability in whatever possible way he may need. He winds through different alleys and it takes a moment for you to wonder idly just where exactly he needs to go before you find yourself pressed up against the wall.

“Have you grown tired of your Dominus?” His hand wrapped around your throat, pressing you up against the wall. Not tight enough to cut off your breath, but tight enough to make you stand on the tips of your toes. His eyes were cold as frost, but there was passion laced through his words as well as rage.

“No Dominus–”

“Do. Not. Lie.” His grip tightened for only a second, “Do you think me blind, girl? I saw the way you watched Varus.” The gladiator's name was a curse and for a moment you frowned at him, was this jealousy?

“Dominus, I could never, I was merely distracted–” You brought your hands up, trying vainly to soothe him with gentle touch but the anger burned hot within him, and he stepped closer, kicking your legs apart to press his knee between them.

“Yes, distracted by him, he caught your eye. Do you desire him?” You felt your heart racing, thumping against his palm at your throat, “Tell me girl, have you forgotten that you belong to me? Do you wish to belong to another?”

“No Dominus! Only you, I–I could not help but notice Varus–” His jaw clenched at the sound of the other man's name upon your tongue. “Because, because he resembled you, Dominus.”

His anger faltered for a moment, but the frown remained, and so you continued.

“He looked so like you Dominus, and I couldn’t help but imagine you at that age, fighting and smiling at me. I do not desire anyone else, I do not wish to belong to anyone else.” You brought your hands up, tentatively placing one upon his at your throat, and the other on his chest.

“Did that excite you? Do you wish me to be younger?” There was a vulnerability in his eyes then, obscured by anger but shining through all the same and had he been anyone else, you might have laughed at the absurdity of his complex.

“It only excited me, to imagine you smiling at me, fighting for me Dominus. I do not wish you to be any other way.” Your hands moved in tandem, one stroking at his arm softly, the other sliding down his chest, towards where his passion grew and pressed against your hip. “Look into my eyes and see the truth in my words, I belong to you, mind, body and soul, only you.” His grip loosened, but he didn’t let go.

“Can you not see how much I desire you? How my heart beats only to the tune of your pleasure?” He isn’t unaffected by your words, you see him drink them down like a fine wine, and he sighs heavily at the feel of your palm on his manhood. “Take me, here and now Dominus, my want for you drips onto my thighs.”

His eyes close and a heavy breath escapes his lips and you see your chance, you see the tiny fracture in his armor. “May I have your mouth Dominus?” You pulled him closer, while guiding his free hand to the Elysian fields between your legs. His fingers slipped under your coverings and found you wet and wanting and all at once his violence is coloured with passion instead of anger.

“You will never belong to another, do you understand me girl?” Frantically he pulls at your tunic, moving it up, and pulling the neck down to bare your breasts to him, uncaring of the people who happen by.

“You are mine, all of you, is mine.” His mouth pressed to yours roughly, stealing the breath out of your lungs. Your hands fumbled at his robes, joining in his madness and releasing his cock. He doesn’t let you touch it however, instead he turns you around and pulls your hips out. You hear him spit into his hand before lining himself up at the mouth of your sex, barely giving you a moment before burying himself to the hilt.

You can’t help but moan and hold onto his arms, the grit of the wall pressed up against your face. His hand wrapped around your throat once more, holding you still while his hips drove forward, filling you over and over without respite, his other hand found your breast and held it tight, fanning the flames of your arousal for him.

“This cunt—“ his mouth pressed against your ear, breathing harshly with the force of his exertion, “is mine, mine alone.” The moan clawed its way out from your throat, that he would be this affected by a simple glance should have scared you, but it didn’t. It only made your arousal flow like seawater.

Your cunt was the altar of his devotion, and his prayers were violent.

“Yes Dominus, yours alone.” You pushed back, turning your face as best you could to look him in the eye and his expression pulled another sound from your throat. He was enraptured, eyes blown black and mouth slack as his hips drilled, bouncing against the plump flesh of your backside. “I want to look at you Dominus, I want your mouth–” He groaned, pulling out quickly to turn you back around and within a breath he had one of your legs wrapped around his hip, his hand holding it at the knee, and his cock buried deep. His other hand held you firm by the throat.

“Tell me girl, tell me you’re mine, only mine.” There was a desperation in his voice that pulled at something within you, something tender despite his brusque movements.

“I’m yours Dominus, I belong to you–” You threaded your fingers into his hair and yanked him close to you, your grip tight and he moaned, unabashedly, “I only ever want to be yours.”

His eyes close before his lips have found yours, and you feel the way his pace stutters, he is close and all at once you need to feel him spill inside, his need to stake his claim burning you up like a fever. You move one hand down to your sex, to the swollen bundle of nerves begging for attention, and with the other, you hold his hand to your throat.

“Please Dominus, please fill me with your gift.” You moan the words out, and smile at the way he grinds himself deep with a low groan. The coil in your belly snaps as you feel him spill inside, and your flutters make him hiss, his mouth surging forward to claim yours hard enough to hurt but it matters not. Your heart and cunt are full with him just as it should be.

His breath comes in pants as he removes his hand from your neck, and your breath hitches when he brushes his lips against your skin in silent apology. You know the moment will pass, and that soon, his mood will change and this interlude will end, as all interludes must but you seize the moment anyway, and pull his face up to meet his eyes.

“I speak truth Dominus, my heart fills with joy to be yours.” Softly, you wrap your arms around his neck and bring him close, for a moment you are worried that as his blood cools, so does his passion for you but he proves you wrong, and lets you kiss him. More than that, he keeps kissing you as he set your robes to right with gentle hands before pulling out with a hiss. He does not respond, there is no need to, his eyes speak for him.

Within a few heartbeats, the look is gone and his usual mask is back in place.

“Come girl, let us away.”

“Yes Dominus.”

—

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus acacius #general marcus acacius #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius x female reader #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius smut #marcus acacius x y/n #general Marcus #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #general acacius #gladiator 2 fanfiction

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pheracy · 2 months ago

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Hiii your kuroo headcannons were so cute! Could you do some for kenma plzz?

Kenma Kozume ✦ headcanons

He always wears his phone charger with him, God forbid he sees himself at a social event without the possibility of scrolling incessantly through his weather app.

He doesn't know why, but he always mysteriously wakes up with his feet outside the blanket.

He gets sick very often, but he usually doesn't mind since that gives him the excuse to stay at home.

He has the most awesome underwear, all thematic about a game or series he likes. He especially loves the Minecraft's creeper one and the one with little Pac-Man ghosts Yamamoto bought him as a birthday gift.

He is so sensitive to the cold that as soon as he steps out on the street, his teeth start chattering nonstop.

He is very good at using chopsticks.

You know he has a collection of plushies he's had over the years. When he's very sad, he buries himself in a pile of them and other stuffed animals.

He stays awake at night as long as he can, so when he can't take it anymore, he's so exhausted that when he gets in bed, he falls asleep almost immediately because his brain turns off.

He usually eats 2 pop-ice per day in summer, loves the coke flavour and the lemon-orange flavor.

He showed Kuroo what kpop and asmr are.

He's into Heartsteel (LoL music boygroup) and of course, his favorite character is Ezreal.

He matches the energy of Tomorrow by Together's music.

He dedicated their song "Cat & Dog" to Kuroo as a way to make fun of how he always seems to want to be around Kenma like a dog despite being in a team well known as cats.

Kuroo not only dedicated their song "PS5" back at him but also sings the verses everytime Kenma chooses to play with the gameboy rather than going out with him. He's soo dramatic about it.

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ─── ⋆⋅♫⋅⋆ ───

It's me or the PS5

Tell me how you wanna spend your night

Tell me which of us is more your type

Seems like you can't decide

So if it's not me, then I'm probably gonna run it over

─── ⋆⋅♫⋅⋆ ───

He can't for the life of him catch a bus on time; it's like they run away from him.

He changes his wallpaper and lock screen image every week since he can't find one he likes enough to keep it for a longer time.

His handwriting is illegible. According to Lev, it looks like hieroglyphics.

His hair gets greasy real quick.

He only wears the glasses with blue light protector Kuroo got for him while he's there just not to get told off by him. After a while, he realized his eyes don't hurt that much so he wears them more often. He'll never tell Kuroo about it.

He's too lazy to cut the food with a knife and fork, so he eats it in bites.

He has the MOST beautiful laugh, the entire Nekoma nearly cry when they heard it for the first time. Kuroo did.

He convinced Shoyo to ask Asahi where he got his hairband because he's considering getting one or maybe tying his hair up. Shoyo doesn't want him to get bald.

He doesn't know how to swim. He's like a gremlin; you just don't get him wet by any circumstance.

He'd let his partner pluck his eyebrows for him; he'd find it relaxing.

You haven't seen a person who gives less of a shit about sports besides volleyball.

He ends up swallowing the chewing gum almost every time. He forgets he has it inside his mouth after a while and just gulps.

Thank you so much for this request! Thanks also for enjoying the hcs about Kuroo^^ Since I watched the Haikyuu movie, Kenma has grown on me as a character, so coming up with these was super fun. I love that we got to know him better, his struggles and thoughts, and oh my, that POV scene was simply cinema! He's so cute, and honestly, I see myself in him in many aspects; he's so relatable as one of the few introverted characters in Haikyuu. I hope you find these headcanons kinda accurate and entertaining <3 ⏤⏤ headcanons masterlist 🧭 navigation 📬∿ Requests are open and much appreciated! You can check my fandoms to ask for a poem, hcs and more about your fav characters and ships in Eng or Spa 𔘓 Credits: divider by @uzmacchiato ♡ banner template by @tinytowns

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maybe-boys-do-love · 8 months ago

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It's wild that the whole global trend of gay-focused happy ending romance shows and movies has only been going on for *looks at calendar* a measly ten years!

Just ten years ago. 2014. That's when you get the discovery of a market for queer romance series and films with happy endings. That year the OG Love Sick in Thailand came out. Brazil puts out The Way He Looks, which deserves so much more credit than it receives for influencing the aeshtetics of the genre. Looking premieres on HBO, and although it had low ratings, it's an important touchstone. And, despite Nickelodeon’s censorship and shifting the program from tv to its website, the Legend of Korra confirms Korrasami in its season finale.

The next year, in 2015, we get Love Sick season 2, and China, pre-censorship laws has a few options: Happy Together (not the Wong Kar Wai one lol), Mr. X and I, and Falling In Love with a Rival. Canada, premieres Schitt's Creek. In the US, Steven Universe reveals Garnet as a romantic fusion between two female characters, and will proceed to just be so sapphic. Norwegian web series Skam premieres and sets up a gay protagonist for its third season, which will drop in 2016 and entirely change the global media landscape.

Then, 2016! This is the MOMENT. That aforementioned Skam season happens. Japan puts out the film version of Ossan's Love and anime series Yuri!!! on Ice. China has the impactful Addicted Heroine, which directly leads to increased censorship. The US has Moonlight come out and take home the Oscar. In Thailand, GMMTV enters the BL game and Thai BL explodes: Puppy Honey, SOTUS, Water Boyy, Make It Right, plus, the Thai Gay OK Bangkok, which, like its influence, Looking, is more in the queer tradition but introduces two dramatically important directors to the Thai BL industry, Aof and Jojo.

By 2017, Taiwan enters the game with its History series. Korea’s BL industry actually kicks off with Method and Long Time No See. Thailand’s got too many BLs to mention. Call Me By Your Name, though not a happy ending, makes a big splash that will send ripples through the whole genre, and God's Own Country offers a gruff counter-argument to problematic age differences and twink obsessions. This is also the year of Netflix reboot of One Day At a Time bringing some wlw to the screen, and the Disney Channel has a main character come out as ‘gay’ on Andi Mack ( I’m am ready to throw fists with anyone who thinks the Disney Channel aesthetic isn’t a part of current queer culture). And I'd be remiss not to mention the influential cult-following of chaotic web-series The Gay and Wondrous Life of Caleb Gallo: "Sometimes things that are expensive...are worse."

All this happened, and we hadn’t even gotten to Love, Simon, Elite, or ITSAY, yet.

Prior to all this there are some major precursors some of which signaled and primed a receptive market, others influenced the people who'd go on to create the QLs. Japan has a sputtering start in the 2010s with a few BL films (Takumi-Kun, Boys Love, and Jujoun Pure Heart). Most significantly in the American context, you have Glee, and its ending really makes way for the new era that can center gay young people in a world where queerness, due to easy access to digital information, is less novel to the characters. And the QL book and graphic novel landscape was way ahead of the television and film industries, directly creating many of the stories that the latter industries used.

There's plenty of the traditional queer media content (tragic melodramas and independent camp comedies) going on prior to and alongside QL, and there are some outlying queer romance films with happy endings that precede the era but feel very much akin to QL genre tropes and goals, many with a focus on postcolonial and multicultural perspectives (Saving Face, The Wedding Banquet, Big Eden, Maurice, My Beautiful Launderette, and Weekend). I don't mean to suggest that everything I’ve listed ought to be categorized as QL.

Rather, I want to point out how all of these new-era queer romance works are in a big queer global conversation together, in the creation of a new contemporary genre, a genre that has more capacity and thematic interest to include digital technology and normalize cross-cultural relationships than other genres (there's a reason fansubs and web platforms are so easily accepted and integrated to the proliferation of these series).

You're not too late to be part of the conversation. Imagine being alive in the 1960s and 70s and participating in the blossoming of the sci-fi genre. That flowering is where gay romance sits now. Join the party.

#just constantly gob-smacked to be alive right now #i know there's plenty of reason to be horrifically distressed about the condition of the world #queer history #thai bl #japanese bl #korean bl #chinese bl #skam

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celestie0 · 6 months ago

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hi my friends! hope you're all doing well. just wanted to come on here and share a little updates w you guys (if you're still here lol)

i guess it's been like a month n a half since i formally went on hiatus, and it's been nice! i got kinda sick for a little bit lmfaooo which was tough to manage w school, but i'm better now

although i took time away from my blog, i still delved in writing here n there. i haven't written anything for kickoff since tbh i'm in such a slump w it. but i still have big plans for stuff that happens after ch13, so hopefully i can just push through this next chapter and get to a better place. thanks so much to anyone that is still interested in the story, it means a lot to me. i know i'm so slow w updates and the story has been going on for almost a year now, but the continued support is so sweet! even though i didn't work on writing it these past one n a half months, i still really love it and plan to finish it.

i'm not sure if many people remember that i had this sort of "apocalypse" gojo x reader au about an asteroid being set to hit the earth in three days, and reader n gojo are ex lovers n the impending end of the world makes them break no-contact...yeah i finished writing the first chapter for it and i really love it so far! it's like set in new york which is really fun haha i love stories where new york is kind of its own "character" if that makes sense...it will definitely be a limited series w only 4 chapters or so, but i kinda wanna finish all 4 chapters before i start posting it bc i don't want it to be a drawn out series in terms of posting since i think it'd be best enjoyed in frequent succession if that makes sense

as for ihm, i think i wrote the most for ihm during my hiatus. i finished three chapters for it, but they are shorter chapters (around 3-4k words). i kinda realized one of my biggest reasons for burnout w my fics were the reaaaaallly long chapters...like didn't i have a 22k chapter for kickoff or sumn lol. idk i can't remember. but anyways, yeah the mindset behind the longer chapters was bc i liked each chapter to kinda have its own conflict, build up, tension then resolution in a sense. but it was exhausting to write that way tbh lol. so i think moving forward, for ihm, i will have shorter chapters. i just don't wanna think to much about things anymore, and write from my heart, bc i have a lot of things planned for ihm, and among the criticism i've received for my writing choices vs my own vision for the story, i've realized during my hiatus that the only way i can finish ihm, or any of my storeis for that matter, is if i just.........stop giving a fuck about it. lol idk if that sounds strange to say, but like, i don't want to over-edit anything. i don't want to think too much about redundancy. i don't want to flower things up or cut stuff out. i'm at the point where imma just write a first draft, check for grammarly errors, and then post it. i guess the reason i'm sharing this is because idk if this means that people may enjoy my writing less since i will admittedly be spending much less time on it than i did before, but tbh i realized i find the most joy while i'm writing, and not while i'm editing. so i want to spend as little time on the latter as possible, and if that changes the quality of my work, then so be it.

anyways, hmm as for hiatus. i guess i'm off hiatus now? i really enjoyed being off of tumblr tbh this app has a lot of questionable content at times (esp in jjk community) and it also did wonders for my studying bc i wasn't spending time doomscrolling or shit posting anymore lmfaooo. but as for writing in particular, i think i will start to post ihm again exclusively. i can't say anything about kickoff or my other projects, but i feel comfortable to start posting ihm again.

sorry, i know that i have kept my replies and ask box off for a long time. but i will open them again once i start posting chapters because i really miss interacting with you guys.

anywho, these are my updates lol i'm like not sure how many of my readers are still here or which ones have moved on but that's ok, i'm grateful to anyone n everyone. hope to see you all soon again!

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i-hate-peas · 9 months ago

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The Old Guard Fic Recs

So I've been a long time lurker within the fandom without ever getting particularly involved, but I wanted to show some appreciation for some of the super talented people who go here, because I have read a lot of incredible TOG fic.

Most (probably all) of these authors have loads of other amazing fics, but I've tried to just chose one from each, to keep the list a vaguely reasonable length. Although then I cheated and did some honourable mentions.

** just a note to say I started this list year (s) ago and forgot about it until literally today when I saw fic recs going round. Any of these fics I haven’t put a description for it’s because I didn’t do it at the time, and if I go back to reread them all this would never be posted, not through any lack of affection or enjoyment **

If any writers want tagging/ untagging etc please let me know! (i knew/ could find some blogs more easily than others lol)

Within Canon

Old Olives by aeli_kindara

Garden of Gethsemane mention = instant tears

Death in Her Hands by superblackmarket

Nile's growing relationship with Joe and Nicky. All of their fics are so beautifully written, but I especially love Nile's relationship with the boys and her facing her own immortality.

Honourable mention: Station to Station

Between the Hour and the Age by hauntedjaeger (@hauntedfalcon)

Andy! Nile!

Ouroboros by CypressSunn (@cypresssunns)

Set after the film, literally just read it.

compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience by Jack_R

A pair of early days Joe Nicky fics that reminds me of 'my wife is a bitch and i love her so much'

let's give them something to talk about by lacecat

When The Cherries White With Blossoms, Be Ready & Be Brave by chapstickaddict

Unearthed by merle_p

I think this is one of the most kudosed fics in the AO3 tag, but it deserves the hype!

Kidnapping for Dummies by Amiril

Similar to above, already very popular, but great and very funny!

The Last Man on Earth by Survivah (@optimismology)

I will admit I don't normally go for Booker/Nile, but this fic sold it to me. Looking at them and their developing relationship as the newer immortals.

Canon Divergent

Retrograde by Pinkninja

I mean this fic is the Big Bitch of the fandom for me, if you haven't already read this, where have you been? But also if you haven't already read this I am so jealous, read it and take your time with it and bawl your eyes out over it and appreciate the joy of reading it for the first time. The level of detail and planning in this fic is indescribable. It follows Nicky trapped in a Time Travellers Wife style life where he jumps back and forth throughout his own timeline, whilst Joe lives his life in chronological order. Exquisitely written.

If Never Again, If Every Day by gallifreyburning and takiki16 (@gallifreyburning, @takiki16)

Another absolute Titan of the genre. I know you’ve already been recommended this 500 times, what more can I say.

though I'm dying to (fall in love with you) by yusufsmoon (@babygirlyusuf)

Travellers from an Antique Land by kaydeefalls (@kaydeefalls)

Andy, not Quỳnh, trapped under the sea. I love all their fics.

AUs

Makes Me Want You More by Sixthlight (@sixth-light)

Perhaps not the typical favourite choice from Sixthlight, one of my absolute favourite TOG authors, but one that is funny and lovely and sweet that I keep coming back to. Shorter than many of theirs but perfectly formed.

pumpkin gnocci verse (series) by Liadan14 (@bewires)

I mean it's got estranged family, suspenseful chronological structure, cooking, spies, intimate and honest sex scenes, hilarious misunderstandings involving keeping halal, lovely found family moments, and the actual recipes used. What more do you want.

The Reality of Everything by Marbletopempire

One of the fics I desperately waited for each instalment for. Very funny, lots of sexual tension, plenty of Cate Blanchette spotting opportunities.

sine qua non by mellyflori (@werebearbearbar)

One of the first of their fics I read, with a very sweet build up of misunderstanding to friends to lovers, involving growing up, discovering sexuality, trying to be nice about your best friend's bad boyfriend, and a long suffering sofa.

The Brooklyn Verse (series) by GayLittleEarring, yusufsmoon, nicelytousled (@marwankenzarisgaylittleearring @babygirlyusuf @nicelytousled)

I saw the creation of this on Tumblr before it was a fic, and it lived up to every expectation. Very sweet and sincere, with lots of great discussions about art, whilst also very funny (Lamp the free loader, Joe sending thirst traps out of irritation) and hot. ItalianAmericanNickyfromBrooklyn and Joe my beloveds.

a good (eighth) impression by deaniker

I love a good hook-up to 'oh shit I have feelings' fic, and this is even more entertaining because Nicky is Lykon's ex, and Joe has very much seen him at his worst.

You do not have to be good by emjee (MerryHeart) (@emjee)

At one point a tumblr post about Joe the Professor and Nicky the Priest got very popular, and I'm not sure if this fic was inspired by that, but is one of the great fics with similar concepts. Such a lovely, gentle fic about love and also identity, featuring also Nile and a very sweet snail.

it's such an almighty sound (series) by raedear (@raedear)

A secret service AU that goes full enemies to lovers, with lots of tension, plotting, betrayal, frustration, and tenderness.

Honourable mention: take my hand (you got me rockin' and rollin')

fight 'til the day that i die 'verse by incurableromancer

Suspenseful, noir, super hero AU that has such a great writing style and is very atmospheric.

if you do take a thief by knoepfchen (@knoepfchen)

Cluedo style AU with lots of fun twists and slow building of backstories, with the whole gang.

Honourable mention: life is not the things that we do (it's who we're doing them with)

#the old guard #fic rec #champagne?#now I need to go back and reread all of these

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44forza · 3 months ago

Text

backburner (chapter one)

series masterlist, main masterlist

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut. mdni.

tropes: teammates, friends to lovers to enemies ... and back to lovers

word count: 3.3k

summary: charles is boy wonder, prince of monaco, il predestinato, and the clear favorite for the WDC. as the newest addition to the team and only woman on the grid, all eyes are on you as you navigate your way through your 3rd season in f1. your illicit past with your teammate only seems to add to the bubbling tension. will you ever be seen as worthy to ferrari? to charles? inspired by the song backburner by niki

warnings: sexism/misogyny will be heavily discussed in this fic. please don't read if that makes you uncomfortable! there's a decent amount of timeline hopping which is split up by page breaks but everything should be clear. oc is def a black cat character lol but do not be fooled this is a mutually pining situation, they're just kind of stupid and bad at communicating properly.

author's note: chapter one is here!!! i'm so excited to get this out and share this story with u guys. as always please let me know what u think <3 pls send me an ask if u want to be added to the taglist.

you’re ushered through a sea of employees, rosso corsa flanking you from all sides. the gap widens to accommodate you and your escort to the center of the room, though it feels like the room has already swallowed you up entirely. the energy in the room is electric. you feel more like a live wire. fragile like a bomb. as you reach the steps of the stage and meet the eyes of each person there, aside from one, your feet grow heavier with every step. there are words exchanged excitedly upon your appearance, both in english and italian, but it’s hard to hear through the ringing in your head.

few people in the world have stood here, you think distantly. there isn’t time to ponder if maybe that’s why it feels so lonely. you feel the dialogue whizz by you like their words are flying around the room, circling you. an introduction, probably—a mic is in your hand and you’re expected to address the room at some point. to address your new team. you don’t need to look to see your new teammate's eyes haven’t moved from the floor since your entry. his gaze is the most piercing of all, and you’re glad to be free of it in this moment.

it’s easy to fall back on rehearsed lines. thank you for the warm welcome, i look forward to meeting everyone and working with you all to fight for another constructors championship this year. the words placate your agent standing nearby even if they dont quite reach your ears as you spew them. you don’t say the words in the back of your throat, how you want to fight for the driver’s championship, how you’re more than a second seat warmer, how you are just as capable as your teammate who can’t even be bothered to acknowledge your presence just a few feet away. it was easier to pretend you didn’t want any of it to begin with. a true team player.

you’re so consumed in feeling what you shouldn’t be feeling to notice that your teammate is looking now. the type of gaze that seeps into your marrow and back. you wonder what he sees as you lock eyes. there’s more chatter that flits in your ears, groups form to take the two of you away for kit fittings and modifications, but neither of you move.

his gaze is hypnotizing. it’s strong enough to pick you up and carry you away with it if you aren’t careful. but you are. after last year, you’re more careful than you’ve ever been. it’s easy to forget about all of that though in these small, fleeting moments. it’s only as you’re being pulled away by your race engineer that you note how sad he looks. eyebrows downturned and solemn. it reminds you that you’re angry, and you can’t afford to forget that again. you look away and don’t look back.

the tour goes smoothly, though you knew it would. ferrari has a reputation for many things, their sterile professionalism being one of them. as you glance around each room and shake hands with every important person ushered your way, you know better than to linger on anyone’s face for a beat too long. you knew what you would find.

you were an odd choice to be sure. this wasn’t to say you were undeserving. though you try to maintain a humble attitude, you had an impressive couple of years so far in F1. you signed your rookie contract to alpine where you stayed for two years, finishing P5 in last year's constructors championship after a hard fought battle with aston martin. alpine’s car was far from impressive in terms of pace, but that’s never been enough to hold you back. you were fast and consistent. the past year has been full of pushing yourself to the absolute limit physically and mentally to make things shake, as well as secret meetings and phone calls discussing a potential move to many other teams on the grid. but talent isn’t all that makes up a reputation. you’re known to be ruthless on track, determined to win no matter the obstacle or person in front of you. in a sport like this, that should be admirable. but when you’re a woman, and that obstacle or person is charles leclerc, things aren’t quite so easily decided. especially to the tifosi.

competitiveness is seen as aggression, assertiveness is seen as bitchiness, confidence is seen as arrogance. you’ve grown used to these. most fall like water down your back, now. but on some occasions they burn your skin like a freshly scarred brand. every friendly gesture with another driver is speculated upon, every physical attribute of yours is picked apart online. it’s all a test, anyways. at least it’s hard to not feel that way, hard to not feel like you’re the sacrificial lamb of your generation. fellow women in motorsport know how impossible it is to earn your keep, let alone to climb the ranks into f1. you’ve raced with many women over the years, some equally as talented if not moreso. it’s hard to think back to the people you’ve left behind on your journey to the top, wondering why it was you who made it when there have been so many who have tried. maybe it’s why you race now with a chip on your shoulder. for you, there’s always been so much more at stake than the fame, glory and money. the community that built you and pushed you, all the women and girls watching you from the sidelines and at home, waiting for you to show the world what a woman can do in this sport. so you’ve been aggressive. you’ve been aggressive, bitchy, arrogant, and you fight to win.

you’ve come to accept that there are some things you can control speculation on and some things that you can’t - your personal relationships becoming media fodder being a main concern. you don’t need to hear what the world thinks about the highest scoring female driver in f1 history throwing away her shot because she got too soft on another driver. you didn’t want to be reduced to a relationship, real or fake.

what you once had with charles though .. that was real.

“fresh eyed and bushy tailed, they called me. what a load of shit,” you spit out, furiously walking out of the media pit. “i’m not a fucking squirrel.”

“i really don’t think they meant it like that y/n. doesn’t that just mean eager? or excited?” oscar follows closely behind. you're quick on your feet but he’s got the leg span of the jolly green giant. damn him.

“wouldn’t that be obvious, though? it’s my first race weekend in formula one, obviously i’m excited to be here. i could do without the woodland animal comparison.”

“you’re in alpine, maybe the clarification is needed,” he jokes. you huff under your breath and swat at his chest which only makes him laugh harder. “iron your face out, champ, or it’ll stay like that forever. then you’ll have all the reporters talking about your fine lines and wrinkles on the front pages tomorrow.”

that manages to get a laugh out of you. oscar always does, whether you want to or not. damn him again. “maybe that’s for the best, actually. they can talk about my premature aging instead of my tractor for a car.”

“that’s the spirit!” he chimes, voice mimicking the sound of the bell atop the cantina door as he holds it open for you to walk through.

it’s hard to recall a time before you and oscar were friends. you chock it up to him being raised with sisters the way he always seems to understand you. you were karting age when you first met the brown eyed boy, and you still teasingly tell the story to anyone who will listen how he followed you around that entire first day because he thought a girl racer was the coolest thing he’d ever seen. he pretends that never happened but you know the truth.

in a world that’s been so critical of your existence, oscar’s presence was a god-send in your most formative years as a driver. without his confidence in you and your abilities, you’re sure you would have given up on your f1 pipedream before even making it to formula 3.

you love him to bits, but you’ve got half a mind to pour your latte over his head as you bicker back and forth at the cantina coffee bar over cream and sugar.

“i get that you’re australian and all of you are weirdly anal about your coffee but that’s really not my problem, osc.”

“it’s blasphemy, really. is it even coffee at that point? you’re an athlete for godsake!”

“and you’re a thorn in my side. try adding some sugar to your coffee to help fix that bitter attitude of yours.”

a muffled laugh sounds on your left but you don’t bother to look over, too focused on grabbing a sleeve for your cup from the stack on the counter.

“remind me to never get on your bad side, y/n.” the voice gives you pause. the hand holding your cup starts to burn as your other hand hovers embarrassingly still over the stack of cup sleeves. when you finally turn your head towards the voice, it’s none other than charles leclerc standing next to you. you know who he is, of course, though you’ve never spoken directly to him. you blink once, and then twice, like a deer in headlights. maybe the woodland animal comparison from earlier was accurate after all. it feels like his eyes have an iron grip on you and you stand there frozen, unchanged. it’s a lighthearted, teasing gaze he gives you, lips curled into an easy smile that flatters him beautifully. you’re too dazed to push that thought away as it passes through your brain. another beat passes and you still haven’t said anything, or moved, something oscar clearly finds all too amusing.

“charles! what are you doing down here?” oscar’s hand claps onto your shoulder, making you jolt enough to snap out of whatever trance you had fallen in hurriedly looking away. you finally slip the sleeve on your cup before your fingers fall off. “i didn’t think you usually ate outside of the ferrari hospitality.”

“normally no, you’re right. like y/n here though,” you look back up at the mention of your name. it’s like a siren call the way it slides off his tongue. melodic, almost. “i like my coffee sweet. i’d be willing to bet that italians are worse about coffee than australians, so i come down here to avoid all of that.”

you speak before you realize you’re doing it, “you should tell them to shove it.” charles eyebrows shoot up his forehead.

“shove it?”

“yeah. who gives a fuck? make it however you want. if they don’t like it just tell them to fuck off. that’s what i do with oscar. he’s annoying so he doesn’t listen, but they might.”

distantly you hear oscar choke out a laugh from behind you, clearly used to your candor. his hand that’s still on your shoulder half heartedly nudges you forward, clearly chastising you for speaking so freely. charles still has his eyebrows raised and watches amusedly as you take a sip from your cup. you raise your eyebrows back as if to say “what?”

something warm settles deep in your stomach when charles’ eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes and the way he’s failing to hide his smile from your advice. “you think i should say that?”

“it’s what i would do.”

charles lets out a quiet hum at that, nodding along to your words. his eyes still flicker up and down your face, but you’re not sure if it’s purposeful or instinctual. his hand reaches out to you.

"i'm charles."

you take it, shaking it once before letting go. "i know."

“do whatever you’d like obviously,” you turn and start to walk past oscar to the door, reaching for your phone in your back pocket. “i guess i’ll know if you’re here again what you decide.” you throw a halfhearted wave in charles’ direction before you walk through the door. glancing down at your phone, you note that you’ve got enough time to run through strategy notes one more time before heading back to your hotel for the night, so you start walking in the direction of the alpine garage. after a minute or so, you hear rushed footsteps coming up from behind you.

“so.. what the hell was that?”

“don’t piss me off, osc.”

“okay well, you didn’t see his face after you walked out of there,”

“and i don’t want to hear about it either.” a lie. you’re a liar. but he continues anyway.

“or how he asked if we were ‘together’ while he wistfully watched you walk away. i seriously thought he forgot i was even standing there until he asked me that.”

there’s a little too much bite to your voice now as you quickly ask, “so what’d you say?”

“ew? what else could i say to that? i walked out right after.”

the sigh you let out comes from deep in your diaphragm. “you’re a pest, you know that?”

“a real pest would have said yes when he asked, he clearly wants you bad.” his sing songy tone of voice pisses you off even more than his words.

“i don’t have the patience for this.”

“you don’t have the patience for anything, it’s your most consistent character trait.” when you don’t answer, he tries again. “seriously, i don’t get the problem. there’s obviously chemistry there. i know you feel strongly about the world thinking you’re the virgin mary, and i get your reasons why, but they don’t need to know about what you do in private.”

you splinter off from him and start to walk into the alpine garage, tossing your dismissal over your shoulder, “this conversation is over, osc.”

notably, charles does not take your advice. he starts showing up in the cantina every race weekend like clockwork, something oscar finds hilarious. it’s even escalated so far as eating together when you’re all free to do so. you can’t fathom why charles would choose to eat with you and oscar when the ferrari catering must be far better than whatever the general cantina is serving. the last time you voiced that thought to oscar he called you an idiot, so you keep those thoughts to yourself now.

you’re a little ashamed to admit it, but you enjoy charles’ company. as silly as it might sound to others, it feels a little like giving up. you’ve done everything you could to build up your walls to protect you from scandal in f1, but it all comes crumbling over one boy with beautiful blue eyes? it makes your stomach churn a little with unease.

that’s not to say you felt good about pushing everyone away. the vast majority of the drivers have approached you since the start of the season to at least introduce themselves, though obviously not necessary. you know some of them from your karting days, so the formalities always laid limp to you. you know they’re just being nice, but you keep your usual bite with every conversation you have. it’s easier this way for everyone involved.

charles seems wholly unperturbed by your attitude which is almost more unsettling than his generally increasing presence in your life. he just won’t go away. calls you “refreshing” which feels like someone has poured ice cold water down the back of your shirt.

you were half convinced he was sticking around because he knew it was driving you crazy, but the more tooth-rotting coffee you drink together the more you’ve come to realize that he’s simply too nice to scheme like that. you haven’t been overtly mean in your time with him, albeit a little short and quick to leave the room when you felt uncomfortable, but that’s just second nature to you. leave it to you to attract the attention of the most popular driver on the grid when you’re trying to keep your head down in the media. you can hear oscar’s laugh ringing in your head like a school bell.

refreshing. who the hell does he think he is?

but you can’t deny that it’s nice. he’s nice. to sit across from someone else and have them ask you questions because they genuinely want to know the answers is nice. you’ve only ever really had oscar as a friend in the racing world and he knows you like the back of his hand—you’ve never wanted another friend, never needed one. but then again, no one has ever tried this hard.

you are at least self aware enough to acknowledge that there’s an edge to everything charles does and says to you. there’s a thrum of attraction flowing between both of you, another thing that makes you want to bury your head in the sand and never come back up for air. even if charles had successfully weasled his way into trying to be your friend, that’s all you could allow this to be. it already feels like too much. a crack in your facade.

you have enough to worry about, like how you’re about to race singapore in a billion degree heat in a brick for a car. you have half a mind to ask for an IV drip at the alpine hospitality just to prepare your body for how much fluid you’re going to lose. as you and oscar walk into the cantina on press day, charles is already standing to the side holding two cups. he hands one to you with a gentle, “let me know how it is” before you’re able to say anything.

you blink in his face, just like the day you met. oscar mumbles a “jesus christ” before stepping around you two to get his own. you take a sip and nod. it’s all you’re able to do when he looks at you like that. like you’re the first good thing he’s seen all day.

“it’s good?”

you hum in agreement. his 5 billion gigawatt smile lights up his face and he knocks his cup against yours. “cheers.”

the pit in your stomach grows.

the rest of the day goes on without incident. you finished the ferrari hq tour feeling like the pope, shaking hands and kissing babies. the crowd of tifosi roar as you walk outside and you wave to as many people as you can before you’re pushed into the car waiting to take you back. it’s hard not to feel like this is the world fattening you up like a pig before the slaughter. there’s no higher pedestal to fall from. your lifelong dream of racing in red finally realized, only no one really believes in your ability to stay there. not even yourself. even oscar has a hard time remaining positive about it. your phone lights up with another text from him.

“he didnt say anything?????? wdym?”

you sigh, locking your phone before resting your temple against the car window.

you foolishly let your mind wander to charles. what he thinks of you being there, whether he thinks of you at all. how he could look so sad standing next to you on stage when he’s the reason you haven’t spoken in months. you aren’t even sure what you’d want to hear if you asked him. he said enough in cota last year to speak for a lifetime. you only wish you could forget it.

another ding brings your train of thought to a screeching halt.

“hi y/n. it’s charles. are you able to meet me for coffee tomorrow before we go in for marketing shots?”

#f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #formula one x reader #formula one x you #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #*my writing

119 notes · View notes

scorpioriesling · 5 months ago

Note

GIRLIE i have been reading 4th wing and holy hell, why havent we got an azriel x fourth wing yettt? like just imagine, that man is literally perfect for ANY book crossover, I would pay good money to see Az beat the frick out of jack (ew)

Our Worlds Collided

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Azriel x reader

Warning(s): Violence... I mean, read the ask. Lol.

Summary: Living in a different place than your boyfriend is hard, and the moments you can be together, you don't want to waste. But, being in school, there are still obligations and tasks you must complete -- even if it means spending time with your man in a less-than-ideal place.

SR’s Note: This ask was *chef's kiss*. I've been doing so much lately with smut + the Invisible String series (which is finished btw, go read it if you haven't yet) that I haven't really got to write a cute little short story in a while. I hope this is what you wanted -- I'm happy with how it turned out!

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

"I'm so glad you made it!"

You threw your arms around your boyfriend, his tall but strong frame engulfing you as he held you close. Grateful for the familiar scent of pine and mint, you inhaled deeply.

"You missed me that much?" The low timbre of his voice was like a caress against your very soul.

Nodding wordlessly, he pulled back, only a bit to look into your eyes. His shadows danced around him in a joyful parade, signaling his inner happiness he so rarely showed on the outside.

"I missed you too, Y/N." He leaned down, pressing a kiss against your lips and smiling when you tugged him close for more. He slid his rough hands along your waist, settling on your hips while his lips moved against yours.

The moment, one you'd been desperate for for weeks now, was harshly interrupted by the mid-afternoon bell, signaling the end of classes for the day. You pulled back, watching your boyfriend grimace at the sound.

"Don't tell me you've never heard a schoolbell before, Azriel," you chuckled. His ears perked up at the sound, and only when it finally ended did he resume his usual, unassuming posture.

"I'll have to get used to the sounds here again." He says. It was true -- where he was from, Prythian, sounds were much softer as the fae hearing had adapted that way. But, in Basgiath, for your kind; it was quite the opposite.

"Yes... and the dragons." You'd taken his hand, making way for your dorm as he sighed.

"Ahh, yes. Almost forgot about those."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

He truly could not have come to visit at a worse time; not to sound ungrateful, you loved seeing your boyfriend and all, but between all the training, challenges, and courses you were balancing -- well, there were many hours of the day that you had to leave him to attend those duties.

But, you couldn't complain. Spending every evening, curled up with Azriel, your back to his chest as you got the best sleep of your life? You were counting down the days to graduation.

"So... a first year... that's when we met," Azriel says slowly, flipping through one of your library books. He'd chosen Basgiath's War College History, and was all the more quizzical.

"Yes," you confirmed. "That was when I took Ramir to... well, Prythian." You shrugged. "Accidental, of course, but, look what it got me."

He glanced up, chuckling as you threw him a wink. It was an unusually rainy Friday, and though you'd rather be exploring the town with Azriel, Emetterio had other plans.

"But, how were you even able to leave the college with your dragon?" He asks, frowning at the next. You wrap a few more strands of your braid, reflecting on the distant memory.

"Oh, I got in trouble all right." General Sorrengail had been furious with you upon your return, having clearly stated that dragon riding was for Basgiath-grounds only. "But, like I said -- at least I met you."

He doesn't look up this time, flipping the page and reading more of the text intently.

"So, now that you're a third-year," he starts, his attention only faltering for a moment when you sit down on the mattress beside him. "You can go anywhere you want?"

You nod in confirmation. "Yup. That's right -- Ramir doesn't particularly like long-distance flying, but he does just fine going to Prythian and back."

Azriel looks sidelong at you, and in the dim afternoon light, you can count every freckle on his face. His hazel eyes gaze at you, flickering between your eyes and lips. You lean in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as his hands slide along your upper thigh.

Your alarm buzzes from your phone, causing Azriel to pull back and cover his ears with his palms. You scramble to turn it off, leaning across your boyfriend to reach the night stand in the process.

"Sorry! I'm sorry," you apologize. Your movement to sit back down is halted; his large hands pulling you to straddle him.

He smirks at you, appreciating your cute giggle as you sit on his lap. His hands run up and down the sides of your waist, and in an instant his lips are on yours again.

"Hmm, quite handsy today, are we?" You mumble, eliciting a chuckle from him against your mouth. He enforces his feelings as his left hand lightly pats your behind, and you squeak.

"I wonder why you've got all this on, anyway?" He mutters suggestively. You peer down at him with a scolding expression.

"Though I'd love to have it all off," you punctuate. "I have to be in the training room in 10 minutes." His smile falters a bit, and you realize too late that you slipped up.

"Training room? For what?"

Realization hits you, and you hastily hop off his lap to grab your phone and boots.

"Uh, we have, umm..." You fumble, quickly yanking your boots on and tying the laces. "Training. Tonight."

He looks at you, unimpressed. "Really. Training, at 5 in the afternoon? On a Friday?" He raises an eyebrow.

You huff, standing as you adjust your leathers. "Y-yes."

He continues his blank stare, clearly not buying it.

"Don't worry, I won't be long -- I promise, I'll be quick." You reach for the doorhandle, making up for the time you you'd spent on your boyfriend's lap.

"And, safe." He calls, just as the door shuts.

As you jogged through the corridors, you felt anything but safe. Azriel hated when you got hurt, and of course, before the long weekend, Professor Emetterio was holding challenges. It made sense to choose tonight so injured riders could rest up before classes resumed Tuesday -- but given your situation, it really, really sucked.

Especially because of who had chellanged you; none other than Jack Barlowe.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Girl, you're lucky Emetterio is running behind," Violet says, shaking her head as you finally make it to the training ring. Rhiannon places a light hand on your shoulder, making sure you're okay, but you only nod to her in thanks.

"I.... I lost, track... of time," you say between pants. Rhiannon nods in sympathy, but your silver-haired friend only smirks.

"Mhm, I'm sure you did. Too caught up with the Shadowsinger?" She teases. Rhiannon gasps.

"I didn't know Azriel was in town!" She beams. You roll your eyes at Violet.

"Oh, like you've never been late before," you grin wickedly. "Too busy playing with shadows, and such." Rhiannon claps a hand over her mouth, giggling at the insinuation.

Violet can't help but laugh too. "Oh please -- we know you love your boyfriends little playmates just as much."

Just then, the training room door swings open as Professor Emetterio walks through. He walks straight to the center of the room, clipboard in hand.

"Students!" He bellows, and the entire room hushes. "I have the list here of challenges for this evening -- now, I want to remind you all, the goal of these scheduled fights is not to kill, but rather build your own strength as a rider against an opponent."

Your eyes flicker to that familiar head of blonde hair across the room. Bile rises in your throat as he snickers, whispering something to his friends before meeting you with a menacing stare.

You look away.

"...we'll try to make this quick, as I do understand it is a long weekend and most of you have plans." He clears his throat, adjusting his glasses on his nose and squinting down at the first names.

"Ridoc and Merlin -- please step onto the training mat!"

Everyone clears off the mat, instead lining the outer edges to get a view of the impending battle before them. You stay close to your friends, your attention interrupted by Violet's voice in your ear.

"We've always kind of had the same type, haven't we?"

Rhiannon giggles again from her other side, and you loose a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

"We do not -- for example, I would've never dated a guy like Dain." You quip. Violet groans, stratching her forehead.

"Okay, that was definately one mistake," she says. Rhiannon glances between the two of you, counting the similarities on one hand.

"Hmm, tall, tan, brooding shadow masters? Yeah, I'd say your type is the same." You blush, thinking of the handsome male waiting for you in your dorm room.

Violet chimes in. "Don't forget about the tattoos."

Rhiannon nods, holding up another finger. "Right, right -- definitely can't forget the tattoos."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Three more pairs are called after the first fight, and you're so caught up in conversation with your friends that you almost miss your name being called.

"Y/N and Jack -- please take the mat!"

Violet looks to you in horror, as Rhiannon gasps.

"Y/N! Why didn't you tell me you had to fight-"

"It wouldn't have changed anything." You glare ahead, watching Jack's pompous, blonde head part through the crowd of onlookers.

It was true, your friends couldn't have done anything to change the fact that Jack had challenged you. In a twisted way, you kind of wanted the opportunity to punch him in the face -- but, the niggling fear of him punishing you to the near brink of death had you mostly thinking otherwise.

Taking the mat, you watched as Jack sized you up, smirking and rolling his lip between his teeth before taking his beginning stance. You mirrored him, fists raised, though they shook.

"Begin."

Jack wastes no time, slowly stepping around the ring as he continues to look at you menacingly. You move in opposition, trying to keep as much distance as you can.

"Awww," he coos mockingly. "Not so tough now that were in the training ring, are we?" He smirks.

You glare at him. "I've always been tougher than you, Jack."

He chuckles, lunging forward and clicking his teeth together in front of your face. You step back, your boot stepping onto the cold concrete floor outside the training ring. Emettario clears his throat, before breathing out a sigh.

"Y/N, please. Step back onto the mat."

You take a half step onto the mat, it's surface not much more forgiving than the concrete it sat on. Jack snickers, backing up to allow you an inch of room.

"Y'look scared to me, Y/N." He moves, slow and stealthy. "Almost as scared as Baide when I-"

"Shut the Hell up." You grit out, glaring hard at him. Reflecting back to the moment that caused all this to begin with, your blood boils. Finding Jack out late that night last week, all of those weapons, how he had mistreated his own dragon-

"Ooooh, hot are we?" He sneers, ignoring the fearful faces of your friends standing just outside the ring behind him. "That's the difference between dragons and us -- they are easier to control."

Rage bubbles over the surface, your own words drifting into the back of your mind. They're no different than we are, you'd tried to convince him that night. They deserve our respect.

You lunge at him, respect be damned for the asshole before you. Adrenaline pumps through your veins at the silent victory; your fist had hit him exactly where you wanted it to. He staggers back, clutching his face with one hand as he gasps, his other hand raised before him.

"Fuck, you!" He growls, making to grab you but you're too fast. You snake to his side, kicking your boot against his stomach. He doubles over, falling to his knees in pain.

The memory of Violet in this position from your first year sends you reeling, remembering the horror of watching your best friend beaten and bruised so badly that Xaden had to come finish her challenge for her.

You grap him around the neck, flexing your arm at a 45 degree angle in an attempt to put him in a headlock. He'd never hurt anyone again; not you, not your friends, not any dragon, whether it be someone else's or his own-

His hands grip your arm, pulling you over his back and slamming you straight onto your back before him. You let out a cough as the wind was knocked out of you, your vision blurring as you tried to refocus on the ceiling above you.

"Shouldn't have fucked with me, Y/N!" He shouts, scrambling to his feet, only to land a harsh kick to your ribcage. You cried out in pain, grabbing your side as you felt his boot shoving against your ribs, and fingers, again.

"I do what I want with my dragon," he grunts, ramming his shoe into your side over and over again. Pain explodes across your body, your fingers cracking beneath his repeated blows.

Black spots begin to fill your vision, the overhead lights blinking out as the last sounds feel your ears. You're blacking out. You're surely blacking out.

You try again to rise, weakly as your arms shake beneath you. It's no use -- his foot connects with your hipbone, sending you right back to the floor. The shouts of your friends, Emetterio's calling, the world around you; it all begins winking out.

Curled onto your side, you heave one last final breath, waiting for the final hit to send you into darkness.

But, it never comes.

You crane your neck, confused as the shouting around you grows louder. Wincing in pain, you make it onto your back, only having to turn your head to watch as the horrific scene unfolds from the other side of the mat.

Tall and terrifying, you watch those familiar scarred hands throw the blonde to the ground, his body literally bouncing in recoil at the impact. Large, tanned muscles yank Jack back up; only to twist his arms behind his back, the angle unnatural.

Your enemy cries out, writing in pain as the wispy black shadows hurl punches of their own at the bastard. Dark, large wings flare behind the male; the talons enough to send anyone away screaming.

"Please... you don't have to do this, I-"

Azriel punches him clean in the jaw, Jack's head jerking as he falls limply to the ground. The growing crowd around the mat erupts, their screams so loud it felt deafening.

You now understood why Azriel hated the sounds here so much.

The black dots clouding your vision increase, your heart rate slowing before you finally black out -- the last thing you see are his familiar leather boots stalking toward you.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"She's going to be just fine."

The light from the overhead bulbs is blinding as you squint your eyes open, muffled voices and beeps becoming more distinguishable. You blink a few times before everything comes into clear view -- the white operating bed, the heart rate monitor beside you...

...the brooding, winged male in the chair across from you.

"I... what..." you look side to side, taking in the mender watching over you. He begins to grab his things, preparing to leave.

"Your challenge with Mr. Barlowe left you with a few... injuries," he settles on the word lightly. You don't miss his quick glance to Azriel before he continues. "But, not as many as he recieved himself."

You swear there is a hint of a smile behind his words.

"I'll leave you two for a moment."

No sooner than the door shuts behind him, Azriel is on his feet and approaching your bedside, opting to sit next to you on it as he looks down at you. Concern etches his features, underneath the unassuming mask he puts on; then, the memories of what happened start coming back to you.

"Why would you step in like that?" You say angrily, and Azriel huffs.

"Seriously, Y/N? Why would I step in?" He raises his eyebrows. "Maybe because I wasn't comfortable watching the shit get beat out of my girlfriend, that's why." He takes your wrapped hand in his, though his brows still knit on his forehead. "Why didn't you tell me about the fight beforehand?"

You relax your features a little, your heart softening as he rubs small circles against the back of your palm with his thumb. "I didn't think you'd particularly like it, or understand-"

"You're damn right I don't like it." He says, giving your hand a small squeeze. "What would have happened had I not been there?"

His hazel eyes stare right into yours, and you bite your bottom lip. Truly, what would have happened?

"I-I don't know, I guess, Emetterio would have-"

"He wasn't doing shit, Y/N." He sighs, leaning on his elbow to cocoon you in an embrace. He presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck, and you find yourself relaxing a bit more against his warmth.

"I don't like that you have to go through these things." He says after a moment of silence. His voice is softer now, his hand lightly running along your bandaged side. "I don't like to see you hurt-"

"I have to do this though, Az. It's part of training." You turn to face him, wincing in pain as the fresh bandages do little to ease you. "And, I'm much tougher than you think."

A ghost of a smile graces his lips, his rough fingers reaching out to brush a piece of hair out of your eyes.

"I know you are. I just... I don't want anything to happen to you. I love you too much for that."

Your heart practically bursts out of your chest at the sentiment, and in that moment, you snuggle closer to his chest.

"Good thing I have a big, strong male that I love to protect me then."

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acosf #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #acofas #azriel smut #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #acowar #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #read more

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mikeypubes · 8 months ago

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'*•.¸♡ ishigami senku as a boyfriend ♡¸.•*'

.•° ✿ °•.

SFW

For starters, I will not write anything pre-relationship cause even I don't know how you can get into a relationship with this dude

You'd have to know him for a long ass time, though, because he needs to know you in and out to actually like you

And liking someone and having a relationship are two separate things for Senku

You best start learning how to lucid dream about him giving you affection because he will show affection maybe once a light year

ESPECIALLY not in front of other people

His love language is probably quality time and acts of service (for him, he wants hard labor, and for you, he shows his love by making small things for you)

Sometimes, he can show his love through gift-giving, too

If it's a really emotional moment, he might accept a hug or maybe even a kiss... MAYBE so don't get your hopes up 😍

He won't initiate any "romantic" physical contact, especially hugs, but he'll accept them most of the time, especially if you two are in private

Kisses might be a bit easier for him to give because it's just a light peck and he can go back to his work

That being said, he's surprisingly gentle with you if you two are dating

I've seen so many head canons of him being so... "daddy" guys... he's really not.

Hates cheesy/cliche romantic stuff, and will never try to do them to impress you.

Maybe he'll impress you with a scientific invention but that's about it

The only nicknames you'll get from him are maybe "dumbass" and "idiot" (which goes to show he's not gonna be cheesy)

Okay but he would remember every single detail about you and all the important dates/events

He'll never miss your birthday and he's always gonna get you something nice, like a plushie or a necklace, whatever stuff you're into

He’s not gonna make it a big deal, though. You’d be seriously thinking he forgot because he hasn’t said a word and then randomly you find something you’ve always wanted lying in front of you.

There’s no note or anything but you know it’s him. 🥹

He remembers your likes, dislikes, anything about your past, etc.

He really likes having you in his lab and explaining science to you, even if you don't understand jack shit

He has 0.01℅ more patience when it comes to you than with other people 👍

Sometimes he'll pause and think about how illogical he's become

He would never admit it, but he'd genuinely risk his whole life for you

Sorry guys he will not introduce you as his girlfriend

Not because he wants to hide it or anything, he just doesn't see the point in going around telling everyone that you're his girlfriend and whatnot

He doesn't tell you anything about his true true feelings (or many personal facts, like his favorite foods, etc.) but after time, you can kinda tell, it's just a thing you two share

You and Gen had to work miracles to figure out his birthday lmfao 💀

So you don't have to tell him how you're feeling, 9 times outta 10, he already knows

Heavy on he knows. He can immediately tell if you’re feeling down without so much as a sigh from you. And he’s always going to make you feel better.

Though he thinks it's troublesome, he'll be considerate if some stuff make you jealous or uncomfortable

You're still not exempt from physical labor though so chop chop get to work 👏

Good luck trying to make him jealous though 💀👍

The only semi-particle of jealousy he'd show is slight distrust

Like if a guy was acting too friendly with you, he'd just kinda treat him the way he treated Tsukasa at first

He's not doing it because he's afraid of losing you though LOL

On that note, a big part of a relationship for Senku is trust, so if he's dating you, he trusts you 100% and expects the same from you, so jealousy from your end can sometimes annoy him

He also doesn't get jealous for that same reason (although he's mainly just not a jealous guy)

Since he's not big on physical affection, the first couple of months you guys were dating, you had more than one instance where you seriously thought you hallucinated him accepting your confession

You genuinely doubted he liked you because he NEVER says it

But then, slowly, you came to notice that there's small things he does for you that he doesn't do for other people

For example, he always stands super close to you, or tries his best to explain things simply to you because he loves sharing his hobbies with you, or even listening to you rant about whatever the hell, even though he wouldn't be that tolerant to other people

They're not really "affectionate" things but they became special to you so that's that

Since you two don't show physical affection in front of everyone, no one knew you two were dating until like months later, when you mentioned it casually, and to say they were shocked is an understatement

NSFW

I'm not really gonna get too deep into this because I might do a whole other post for it

But in general, I think Senku would be very casual with the concept of sex

Like you guys would be months into the relationship, maybe even a year, and you still would have no clue if he even wants to do it because he'll never ever bring it up

It's not that big of a deal for him, he can survive without it lmfao

He also hates rushing things when it comes to a serious relationship

He's not dumb, though, he knows that relationships include sex and it's not that he's never thought of it, he just won't openly discuss it with you

Mainly because you two are way too busy

But if it were to happen, it would be one of two cases:

You bring it up and talk to him about it

Or it literally just happens out of nowhere (this being more likely)

So if you two were in a private place, and I guess you were smooching, one thing would lead to another, there would be no words exchanged, just him occasionally making sure you're fine

Also on that note, even though he knows everything about everything, keep in mind he's a teenage boy who's never been in a relationship before, so technically, he knows what to do, but he also doesn't... If that makes sense?

Like he knows it might hurt, so he'll be super slow and he'll make sure you're 100% okay

He doesn't know how to be super intimate, he just knows the technical part of it

Either way, he doesn't have a high libido, so sex isn't a big thing for him, it just comes naturally when you two are in the mood

(PHEW THAT WAS LONG AS SHIT) (p.s. ik what a light year is)

°•. ✿ .•°

#dr stone #ishigami senku #dr stone senku #anime #senku ishigami x reader #headcanons #boyfriend #boyfriend headcanons #long ass post #i love senku #hes so perfect #it's 2 am

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dr-spectre · 9 months ago

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Getting sappy about the Squid Sisters....

The Squid Sisters being the ones to start and end Three Wishes genuinely broke me down and made me feel the most amount of emotion out of anything in this whole franchise.

They embody the past, present and the future of this series and it's world. They have made an impact in the past as they were the ones who started it all, they sing and dance in the present, and will plant the seeds for the future. Them getting the opening and final lines of this grand song is just... it's so smart.

These girls are so important to me on so many levels it's not even funny. I genuinely don't know what my mental health would be like without having these comfort characters by my side. I love them so much and they helped me get through the worst mental period in my life back in mid 2023. If they didn't help me see the light and comforted me, i don't know where i would be.... They also helped me get comfortable with my autism as well and made it less of a curse and more of a difference in how i see this chaotic world.

I remember getting my Callie plushie in October 2023 and once i held her... i teared up. This is not a joke. I'm not playing around. A 19 year old me actually cried holding a cute little Callie plush. She helps me sleep at night and helps silence the stupid thoughts in my brain that is just trying to rest.

I've been in love with this series since 2017 and it's done so much for me since then. I am gonna continue to love and adore this series until my heart finally stops beating. I've made so many memories i hold near and dear to my heart and some of the best gaming experiences I've ever had.

And getting the chance to share it with you all is just... I'm so happy. I don't feel lonely anymore in my thoughts and this series helped me make wonderful connections and it will continue to do so...

I love the Squid Sisters... I love them with every piece of my heart.

Sorry for getting all sappy LOL! (It will happen again in September.)

#splatoon #splatoon 3 #squid sisters #callie and marie #callie splatoon #callie cuttlefish #marie cuttlefish #marie splatoon #grand fest #grand festival #grand fest splatoon #rambles #autistic rambling #sad thoughts #im crying #i love them so much #thank you #im sorry

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theteasetwrites · 8 months ago

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Begin Again

Chapter 4: L'élu

❧ Media: The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon ❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 1 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: violence, blood, death ❧ Word Count: 10k (sorry)

❧ In This Chapter: You and Daryl get to know the inhabitants of the abbey, as well as the truth behind Isabelle's intentions. Just when the two of you decide to leave, trouble from another group leads to limited options, and a possible way out.

❧ A/N: Well it looks like I finished this literally just in time for Season 2 lol. Also sorry this chapter is insanely long. And sorry I took so long to finish it. I don't know if there are many people who are reading this series lol but I sure do appreciate everyone reading it! I'm not sure how Season 2 is going to go with the sneak peeks we've been getting lately, but rest assured that (Y/N) will not be letting Isabelle anywhere near Daryl, that's for sure.

“Across the courtyard is where the sisters live,” said Isabelle, leading Daryl into the corridor with you following close behind, now dressed in a simple linen blouse that was a few sizes too big, tucked neatly into brown wool trousers. With a quick pause, she turned to Daryl as she led the two of you forward. “No men allowed.”

That interested you, because you’d seen a man. Well, a boy.

“What about the little boy I saw?” you asked.

“Laurent grew up here. With us. He was orphaned.” She continued to speak something in French to another nun as the three of you passed through the hall and into a wider room. As the two of you crossed the threshold, a couple of passing nuns carrying baskets of linens hesitated, stepping back a bit as their widened eyes took in your unfamiliar figures.

Before you could manually tug your facial muscles into a small smile, the nuns hurriedly scurried past, clearly not interested in pleasantries. Or perhaps it had been so long since the seemingly secluded cloister had visitors that they’d all but forgotten them. After all, you couldn’t really imagine many people happening to stumble upon the remains of this crumbling castle in the French countryside. You and Daryl, however, were an exception, to be sure.

“They’re afraid of you,” said Isabelle, a breathy laugh lilting her words.

“We’ll be gone soon,” Daryl assured her. It assured you, too.

Advancing into what seemed to be the foyer, your eyes were drawn to your left, where iron bars separated the grand entrance way from what appeared to be a small armory. Daryl followed closely behind as you entered, your eyes darting between neatly organized displays of rudimentary medieval weapons—from maces to spears to halberds. You’d seen well-stocked armories, one of which was in Alexandria. Even by Alexandria’s standards, this one was impressive.

“Medieval churches often had weapons rooms,” Isabelle said. “You needed them back then.”

You split from Daryl, each of you drawn like moths to flames to either side of the small room. You found yourself entranced by a display of war hammers, the silver of their heads dulled by a few layers of dust that must’ve accumulated over years of disuse. One in particular caught your attention—a smaller one, about the length of your arm, with a two-sided head, one side beveled and blunt, the other sharp and curved slightly. It reminded you of your ice axe, the scrappy hiking tool that you’d found in a sporting goods store in Georgia. That was so long ago now, but the thing somehow survived through it all, though in truth you no longer had any idea where it could be, after the mess of everything that went down before you landed here.

“Makes sense.” The gravel of Daryl’s voice with its soft echo stirred you from your thoughts of distant memories, now clouded by seawater and sand.

“We’ve trained ourselves to use them. Just in case.”

“Killer nuns, huh?” you replied, a hint of disbelief in your voice.

“Well, we can defend ourselves if we need to.”

The nun met your gaze with a relaxed smile. In her eyes, that damned calm that you couldn’t get past. She was too inscrutable, too poised. She knew something, you just weren’t sure what.

Behind you, you felt Daryl’s body brush past. Turning around, you saw what had entranced him—a wall of guns on display, each with a small silver plaque identifying the make and model (in French, of course). Even the guns had an antique look to them, with their stocks all made from a rich umber wood. A far cry from the militaristic automatic weapons that Daryl had been used to carrying over a year ago when he was a trooper for the Commonwealth, but he found a subtle artfulness to these machines, as if they were crafted by hand. The collection reminded him of the old guns his father kept laying around the house he’d grown up in rural northeast Georgia. He’d almost shot his own eye out with one when he was three years old, according to Merle, who had a much clearer memory of the event than the younger Dixon brother did. Nevertheless, he couldn’t forget that wood stock. Not any kind of pleasant memory, of course, but a memory nonetheless.

“Père Jean was a collector,” continued Isabelle. “His grandfather fought in the Maquis.”

Daryl’s finger trailed to a suspiciously empty space between the other weapons, where a pair of display hangers were waiting patiently without their rifle.

“You’ve got one missin’,” he said.

Isabelle replied calmly, “That’s the one I used.”

Your gaze flickered towards her, and when you caught a flash of her pale blue eyes already on you like a sniper’s crosshairs, you quickly snapped your attention away. Beside the firearms display was a door left ajar. The room it led into was smaller, with its own collection of antique tomes and trinkets. Your eyes were fixated on the bookshelf behind a mahogany desk, upon which sat a microscope and a small rack of glass vials.

Approaching behind you, Isabelle’s voice continued. “That’s Père Jean’s office.”

You were beginning to wonder where this mysterious Père Jean was. Wherever he was, he certainly had an impressive library, just based on the sheer volume of leather-bound books packed tightly into the shelves. Despite your inability to read the French text, you were more interested in Père Jean’s books than you were in his guns. Daryl had more than once told you that guns were more useful in the outside world because you could use them to defend yourself. Well, he should’ve known better, as someone who had once been an accidental victim of your ability to use a rather large encyclopedia as a blunt force object.

As for Daryl, his practicality overcame the curiosity that befell you, for his eyes were immediately drawn to what appeared to be an old shortwave radio, not too unlike ones you’ve seen Eugene hauling around Alexandria back when he was setting up the radio system there.

“You know how to use that radio?” he asked, pointing towards the contraption.

“It’s been a while since I’ve managed to reach anyone on it.”

“Do you mind if I give it a try?” you asked. You didn’t want to brag, but you knew your way around a radio. Many nights spent trying to get a hold of Daryl through a crackling radio frequency during his particularly long hunts or his brief stint as the leader of the Sanctuary were very educational.

“Sure,” she replied. “Once you get better.”

There was another exchange of looks between you and Daryl, the latter of which was just starting to lose his patience. You could tell. The irritated twitch in his eye said it all.

Silence settled in for just a few moments, until you received the unspoken impression that Isabelle was ready for you to exit the room. You did so, but as soon as you heard the click of a key turning, you turned to catch the nun locking the door shut from the outside. Your eyes followed her hands as she clipped a rusty keychain onto the brown leather belt that cinched her waist.

“The last one was a Spaniard,” she continued. “A few months ago. He spoke a bit of English. I could try reaching him again.”

You kept your mouth shut, lest you say something snarky.

“Your English is good,” remarked Daryl.

“My parents worked for Médecins San Frontiéres. They traveled all over.”

How convenient, you thought.

“Bosnia, Chechnya, Rwanda.” Perhaps it was the jealousy still souring your impression of the woman, but you couldn’t help an internal eye-roll. Of course this woman was beautiful and skilled and tough and intelligent and worldly, too. You hated her. Well, you didn’t, but you hated the idea of her. Too perfect. You knew it was petty. Still, as long as you kept your thoughts to yourself, you were sure you’d be able to warm up to her. Maybe.

“My sister and I finished our schooling in Paris,” she added.

“How’d you end up here?” Daryl asked.

“A bunch of good decisions.”

There was a familiarity to her words, but you couldn’t place it. Unbeknownst to you, you couldn’t place it because they were words Daryl had spoken to Isabelle earlier, only slightly altered.

A bunch of bad decisions, he had said when she asked him the same question he now asked her.

You looked between them, their stares lingering. You did not like it. Not one bit. Not because of jealousy, but because it was clear that whoever this woman was, she was capable of pulling strings—of manipulation.

Well, maybe it was also jealousy. A bit.

The dusty, centuries-old air of the castle gave way to a fresh breeze winding through the covered walkways that surrounded the courtyard you’d seen earlier. Isabelle herded the two of you through the open corridor as the other nuns toiled in the garden. It was impressive, though more primitive than the ones you’d constructed back home.

“Was this garden always here?” you asked. “I mean, before.”

“Yes and no,” Isabelle answered. “The abbey was already being modernized by the time I came. Our hope was to convert the land into an agricultural property that would support us, fund our mission.”

“Looks like it’s working,” you said. “It’s impressive.”

Isabelle turned to smile at you. It seemed more natural this time, less forced than the previous ones. “It’s been enough to keep us going.”

Across the courtyard, you noticed the jerky movement of another nun, tilting her head to signal something to Isabelle, you presumed. She was an older woman with a black hood, as opposed to Isabelle’s white. She must’ve been a full-on mother superior, or whatever you’d call it. You weren’t entirely sure. Her face was serious, though, tinged with what you interpreted to be distrust, or even fear. No doubt it was related to the two weather-worn strangers the nun towed behind her.

“Take a seat,” said Isabelle. “I’ll be right back.”

She left the two of you before a stone table, and just ahead of you, a familiar face approached: the young nun you’d first encountered when you awoke here. Sylvie, you recalled Isabelle calling her. She carried a tray of food with a jug of water, placing it on the table in front of you without so much as a second of eye contact. Perhaps she was wary of you, too. You didn’t blame her too much, considering how much you’d stressed her out upon your rude awakening.

“Thank―uh… merci,” you said quietly, a tad insecure of the way the unfamiliar word sounded on your American tongue. Still, Sylvie seemed to respond to you with a slight lift of her head. She met your eyes with an anxious look in her wide eyes. Unsure of what else to do, you simply smiled. The nun did not smile back, only nodded her head in one quick, near imperceptible motion, and then turned sharply, walking away with quick steps.

Daryl’s shoulder grazed yours as he leaned over the table to inspect the provisions: two crisp red apples, two bowls of stew, two hard boiled eggs nestled in tiny cups, four slices of homemade wheat bread (buttered), and two small glasses for water.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he took a piece of bread into his hands, breaking it apart and putting the other half back with its brethren. That was a habit of his―rationing even when he didn’t really need to.

“How is it?” you asked, watching him nearly finish the bread in two bites.

His lips pursed as he chewed and nodded his head. “Good.”

“Better than mine?”

“Nah.��

You took the piece he’d left and took a small bite, savoring the taste. “Mm… You’re right. Mine is better.”

With the tray of food in your possession, you sat together on the stone slab connecting two columns in the peristyle, facing each other as you leaned against the hard stone structures and savored the simple foods you’d been given. Once in a while, you’d look out into the courtyard, watching the nuns carry out their daily chores. You spied a goat or two, and a dozen or so chickens squawking about. The boy you’d seen earlier, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“I wonder why Isabelle’s so stingy with that radio,” you said. “You think she’s hiding something?”

“Maybe. Or she doesn’t want us to leave.”

“Maybe both.” Taking a bite of your apple, you couldn’t help but wonder just what kind of people you’d run into this time. “Ritual sacrifice,” you said. Daryl lifted his head from the bowl of soup he slurped from.

“What?”

“Maybe they want to sacrifice us for some weird cult thing. Like an offering to God. You ever see The Wicker Man? What if human sacrifices are what keeps this garden so nice for harvest season?”

Daryl couldn’t quite tell if you were serious or not. After all, stranger things had happened to the two of you.

“You’re jokin’, right?”

A smile slowly crept across your tired face. “I guess. Mostly. I just know there’s something up. I need to get to that radio, Daryl.”

“Me too,” he agreed. “Sooner the better.” He leaned in closer now, and you followed suit. His voice lowered to a whisper, he said, “The keys are on her belt. Maybe tonight we can…”

His voice trailed off into nothing as his eyes shifted to your left, focusing on something else. Despite your feeling that something was approaching, you kept your own focus on him. “Daryl?”

He leaned back quickly, putting distance between the two of you once again. Before you were even aware of the boy’s presence, he’d gingerly placed what looked to be a Rubik’s cube onto the stone bench. Like you’d just seen a giant spider, you stood up swiftly to distance yourself from the contraption.

The boy, the same one you’d seen earlier, you presumed, didn’t hesitate to take your seat. He looked at Daryl expectantly.

“Now you try,” said the boy. Laurent, you recalled.

Without the knight’s helmet obscuring his appearance, you took note of the long, slightly unkempt hair that reached his shoulders in dark waves. It reminded you of Daryl’s, put the boy himself seemed much too talkative and abrupt for further comparison between the two.

With a somewhat suspicious gaze, Daryl looked between the puzzle and the boy. It was solved, he noted. He could never figure these things out. Neither could you.

“My record is three minutes and twelve seconds,” Laurent continued proudly. He picked up the cube and held it out towards Daryl for further indication. Daryl took the cube in his own hand, tossed it around for a moment or two, then handed the thing back.

“I’m not really good at shit like that,” he said. Perhaps being away from the children for the last month or so had deprived him of his usual sensibilities which prevented him from cursing in front of them. Daryl didn’t even notice he’d done it, but you did. Still, you were too confused by the precocious child’s sudden appearance to say anything.

“No? Oh. I’m quite good at… shitlikethat.” You cringed slightly at the boy repeating Daryl’s words, albeit sloppily and in a French accent. You just hoped he wouldn’t repeat it in front of the nuns. “Math problems, science, music, geography. Also, I know all the countries and capitals from back in the before time.”

An exhale escaped from your nose. “Wow.” Laurent’s alert face turned towards you, looking up at you with cunning, yet unassuming, brown eyes. “You learned all of that here?”

He smiled. “Père Jean taught me everything.”

“Well, he sounds like a smart man. I’d love to meet him.”

The boy’s face visibly darkened before he turned back to Daryl, who clearly was the object of his fascination. “Pardon my manners, monsieur. I’m Laurent. Pleased to make your acquaintance” Holding his hand out, Daryl took it, and the boy administered a single firm shake.

“How many people do you think live within the boundaries of what was once France?” he asked Daryl. “Starting from sixty-seven million people before the fall, I speculate current French populace is fewer than two-hundred-thousand.”

“I was gonna say way less,” replied Daryl.

“Much less. Do you know how long it would take to repopulate that many people?”

“No.”

Laurent paused, lowering his gaze to the ground. “Six generations. Perhaps seven. Hurts my stomach just thinking about it.”

“Yeah, the math sucks.”

Another pause, while you seemed to be a ghost in this conversation. You knew that the most likely explanation was that Laurent had probably not grown up knowing many other boys or men, so it made sense that he was eager to speak to Daryl. That, and there was always something about Daryl that children gravitated towards. You found it rather cute, even though most of the time he had no idea how to talk to children. There were even times when he was at a loss for words when speaking to Robin.

“Do you have children, monsieur? A wife? Parents?”

Daryl’s eyes lifted towards you, his face questioning. You’d yet to discuss with each other the extent to which you’d inform these people of your lives back home. Isabelle already knew of your relationship to one another, but not about your children, or the others back home. She didn’t know about Alexandria. For now, you made up your mind that no one here needed to know of anything besides the fact that you and Daryl were married.

“I’m his wife,” you said, catching the boy’s attention again. Holding out your hand, you offered a smile. “(Y/N).”

Laurent looked at you again as he shook your hand, much more delicately than he had with Daryl. He seemed more confident with the man, more eager to impress him. With you, he seemed… fragile.

And now, with the boy’s full attention on you, you found yourself held hostage by his stare―dark and paralyzing. When he let go of your hand, his eyes seemed to fill with sadness, like a kind of grief.

“You’re homesick,” he said to you. “I see it in your eyes.”

The smile on your lips melted into a lukewarm puddle on your face. You always knew you tended to wear your emotions on your sleeve, but you’d never met a young child so perceptive.

“You can tell that just from my eyes?”

“I feel things. In my stomach. I feel your sadness.”

Breaking the silence that settled between you, a distant voice called out, “Laurent!” and some words in French you didn’t know.

After turning to see the nun calling to him, he turned back to you. “Time for poetry. Père Jean awaits.”

He began to walk away, his Rubik’s cube in hand, but he turned back once more, placing the puzzle on the bench beside Daryl.

“Now you try,” he said again before finally taking his leave.

Daryl’s movements were jittery with impatience as he wedged the knife in the doorjamb whilst jiggling the handle in different motions. Meanwhile, you stood watch a few yards away, just in case any passing nuns caught the two of you attempting to get into Père Jean’s study, where the radio sat in waiting.

It was still daylight, which you found to be a hindrance, but you couldn’t wait much longer for nightfall. Time was something the two of you didn’t exactly have, not when it came to trying to get back home.

“Clear,” you signed from across the small room that stored the nuns’ weapons.

Daryl nodded in acknowledgement, then turned his focus back to his so far failed attempts to open the door without a key. With a huff, he continued with different techniques, all of which seemed fruitless. His face contorted in frustration, with impatience seeming to cloud his ability to devise a more clever method. The door simply wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard he strained to get the knife to disturb the locking mechanism.

Like goddamn Fort Knox, he thought to himself.

And then, you’re hearing it before your mind or body can react. Daryl is frozen in momentary suspension. You can feel your heart pump faster and your blood quicken. Daryl’s eyes immediately search for you, then his mind races the same way it has a thousand times before as his hand curls tighter around the handle of the knife he purloined. And instinctually, you reach for a weapon that you do not have.

The growl gets louder, but not closer. It’s not moving. It’s stationary, but taunted. Laurent’s voice is meandering under the guttural groans of the unseen creature. His voice isn’t frightened, though. It’s calm. At ease.

You didn’t waste another second.

But before your feet made any forward movement, you felt your right hand now gripping a cylindrical wooden handle. Daryl moved past you once he knew the weapon he’d given you was in your hand―the small warhammer you’d been fixated on earlier.

Following not too far behind Daryl, you rounded the corner out to the courtyard, where you saw Laurent. He was standing in front of an old wooden door with a square barred window. Between the rusty iron bars, a pale, decrepit hand stretched out towards the boy, who seemed all too calm. In Laurent’s hands, a book. It came together now—he was reading to the creature.

Daryl hurried towards the boy, pulling him away by the shoulder. You stood back, tightening your grip on your weapon. The walker seemed contained, but it reached out with both hands now, growling and snarling at Daryl.

“What the hell are you doin’?” asked Daryl.

“This is Pére Jean,” replied Laurent, as if it was obvious. “We are waiting for him to rise again.”

Daryl looked from the walker, to Laurent, to you. You could see in his eyes that his tolerance had just run out. Daryl had been prepared to put up with as much as he needed to if it meant getting the two of you back home, but this?

Well, you and he had seen this kind of thing before, all the way back at the farm. Hershel had been keeping walkers in his barn, most of which had in life been his family or friends, in the hopes that one day there’d be a cure for this disease. He thought they were sick, not dead. Back then, it made a little more sense. It was the beginning, and people were coping with this terrible new world in any way they could.

Still, Daryl had no room for understanding back then, him being one of the first to lead the charge against exterminating the walkers in the barn. He certainly didn’t have it within him to understand it now, twelve years later, when all who were living should’ve known better. Even nuns.

“Laurent.” Isabelle’s voice echoed softly, but urgently, through the courtyard. She came toward the boy as she spoke to him in French. You figured she dismissed him, because soon he was walking away. Now, her eyes turned to you, then Daryl.

There was no unsettling calm there now, no more pretense. In this moment, despite your disgust, you felt that this was the sincerest form of her you had seen yet. There was fear in her eyes. Not of you, not of Daryl, and not of the walker. Something else entirely. For the first time since you’d been here, you felt sympathy for her, though you could not place why.

“Let me explain,” she said, but Daryl was already turning, making his way back into the abbey. You followed closely, but with an odd sense of guilt in the pit of your stomach. You pushed it away. Intuition would have to be put on the back burner. Survival was more important.

“You got a lot of witchy shit goin’ on around here.” Daryl pushed open the doors to the room where he’d awoken. Though you followed him, your feet froze in place. Isabelle caught up to him, her face as white as the cloth shrouding her. “Dead priest in a closet and a creepy kid? No thanks.”

You watched Daryl as he gathered his belongings. You felt an incessant pounding inside your head as thoughts ran wild and emotions flooded you. On one hand, you were more than happy to pack up your things and get out of here, but on the other, you wanted to know more about what was going on here. Perhaps it was that curiosity that often got you into trouble, but you couldn’t help it. Maybe seeing the nun’s facade crumble had made you more receptive to the idea of hearing her out. You weren’t sure why. You’d been more than ready to leave this place since the minute you opened your eyes this morning.

“It’s not what you think,” she said. Her eyes flashed from him to you, as if pleading. There was so much desperation in her, so much that you felt it flooding into you. Whatever she wanted, it was serious.

“Doesn’t matter what I think. We’re outta here.” Daryl yanked the nightshirt he’d awoken in and stuffed it into the backpack he’d found on the boat. Looking at you from across the room, his gaze was firm. Unyielding. “C’mon,” he said. “Get your stuff. We’re goin’. Now.”

Before you could respond, the doors behind you rattled shut. Isabelle stood in front of the closed doors, blocking your only exit. You knew that you could probably push past her smaller frame if you needed to, and Daryl most certainly could, but her desperation seemed strong enough to put up a fight.

“You can’t leave. Not without us. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Isabelle’s eyes were locked onto Daryl as she spoke. You looked between the two of them, confused and getting increasingly irritated with Isabelle’s lack of detailed explanation.

“Waiting for Daryl?” you asked. “What do you mean waiting for him?”

Isabelle’s gaze shifted towards you. “He’s the messenger.” Her eyes were wide and her voice firm with confidence in this statement, as if it meant anything to you or him.

Daryl paused his hurried packing as he looked over to you. He was just as confused, and just as frustrated.

“The messenger?” he repeated.

“To deliver Laurent.”

You let out a huff. “Deliver him? Deliver him where?”

From her pocket she procured a folded piece of parchment. She hastily unfolded the paper as she approached Daryl. “He drew this.” With a low grumble, he took the picture into his hands.

You side-stepped to place yourself next to Daryl, looking over his shoulder to get a glimpse of whatever madness Isabelle was ranting about.

The parchment was faded and cracked, but the colored pencil outlined with graphite was new and crisp. The style was simple and childlike, of course, but clearly discernible. Depicted on the page was the body of a man engulfed in blue waves, with his head poking out and resting upon a yellow beach dotted with seashells. It looked as if he was washing onto the shore. The man sported sinuous hairs that reached his shoulder and a cross hatching of lines along his chin that you assumed represented facial hair.

Had the situation been different, you might’ve found this amusing. After all, the man in the picture was vague looking enough to resemble any man with slightly long hair and a beard. It could’ve been Jesus Christ himself, but Daryl? You would have laughed if you weren’t so conflicted about what to think. Was Isabelle just plain out of her right mind, or was this going to lead to an opportunity to get the two of you home?

Daryl, however, didn’t have as much of a nuanced reaction as you did. “Yeah, he should stick to math.”

“So, you think this guy in Laurent’s picture… is Daryl?”

Isabelle seemed to ignore your line of questioning, as if it was obvious. “Three weeks ago. Before you came.”

Daryl lifted a black wool coat over his shoulders. “He drew a guy on a beach. So what?”

Once again, Isabelle’s eyes were focused on Daryl. Whatever part you had in this, if any at all, was apparently nowhere near as important as his. You might’ve been slightly offended if you weren’t confused.

“I saw you fight the Guerrières,” she replied. “I know you can get him there safely.”

You inserted yourself once again, practically jumping in between Isabelle and Daryl. “Get him where?” you asked, or rather, demanded.

Daryl held up his hand as if to signal her to stop. “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about,” Daryl said, his voice bordering on exhausted now, as if he was tired of even entertaining this. Daryl turned to you now as he slung one strap of his pack over his shoulder. “(Y/N),” he said, “get your stuff. Seriously.”

Despite your bewilderment laced with a heavy dose of irritation, you couldn’t help but be entranced by the nun’s words. Your curiosity, once again, had gotten the better of you. “Hold on, I want to hear this,” you said, half out of hope that perhaps it could somehow lead you to getting home, and half out of sheer entertainment value.

Daryl huffed as he shook his head, not ready to argue with you, but ready to move out of this stuffy room and get going, with you kicking and screaming if he had to.

“Our leader is a Buddhist monk,” Isabelle continued. “He came through on a pilgrimage some years ago. He recognized something in Laurent, an answer to a prophecy.”

“Prophecy?” you asked, but Isabelle once again did not directly indulge your curiosity. Meanwhile, Daryl pushed past you towards the door, though you and he both knew he wasn’t going anywhere without you.

Isabelle followed Daryl, and you followed swiftly behind. She spoke rapidly, trying to get every last word of context out as if somehow that would persuade him. But you knew Daryl, and you knew that the only way of persuading him to do anything in this situation was if Isabelle offered him some sort of lead regarding your journey home. For your part, you hoped that encouraging her to ramble like her life depended on it would do just that.

“L’Union has a base up north, a community that will raise and nurture him to be who he was born to be.”

“‘Who he was born to be?’” Daryl repeated, opening the doors into the corridor.

“Six months ago, Lama Rinpoche said it was time,” she sputtered as she hurried to match Daryl’s longer strides. “Pére Jean was supposed to escort him, but… Well, you saw.”

“Yeah, I did. You got him locked up, thinkin’ the prayers and poetry are gonna fix him.” Daryl turned the corner, into the foyer, and then the armory.

“Laurent is special,” continued Isabelle. “I think you see that.”

“Do I?”

“His mother died in childbirth,” Isabelle continued. You listened much more intently than Daryl seemed to, but she still spoke directly to him. “He shouldn’t have survived that. It’s a miracle he’s even alive.

You stood cross-armed, leaning against the wall as you watched Daryl pick through the weapons. The first thing he grabbed was a simple wooden crossbow. It wasn’t at all like his, but the likelihood of ever seeing that crossbow again was next to nothing. He picked up bolts, too, and a morningstar. You never could figure out how to use that thing, despite how many times Daryl had attempted to show you.

With the morningstar in his hand, he lifted it up to show it to Isabelle, while his eyes still focused on the rest of the weapons laid out before him. He was like a kid in a candy store, though much grumpier.

“Can I borrow this?” he asked, though he didn’t seem keen on receiving an answer.

“He’s shown abilities,” Isabelle continued, once again. “Perceptions. Compassion beyond any child.”

Daryl turned with his haul to focus his attention on the weapons behind him. Isabelle seemed to grow frustrated now too, but only just the slightest bit. That calm demeanor was hard to penetrate.

“He sees into people,” she said more firmly now. You recalled how Laurent had taken one look at you and known exactly what you were feeling. Granted, the rational explanation was that he had known you and Daryl were far from home from talking to Isabelle prior, so it wouldn’t have been a stretch for him to assume that you were, indeed, homesick.

Of course, you thought Robin was very perceptive and emotionally intelligent, too. Robin was special to you, but all mothers believe their children to be special. It was nothing more than a simple personality trait, as far as you were concerned.

“We used to have a kid like that in grade school,” Daryl remarked. “He used to get his ass kicked a lot.” Daryl unsheathed a dagger as he spoke, then held it up to Isabelle, once again feigning his need for permission. “I’m gonna borrow this too, all right?”

“He needs teaching. Guidance we cannot provide. He’ll be safer there, nurtured… Until he’s ready.”

In one last burst of energized curiosity, you stepped forward to garner Isabelle’s attention. “Ready for what?” you asked, and this time, if Isabelle wasn’t straightforward, you were sure you were about to scream.

Isabelle’s gaze found you, her eyes ice cold and alert. Circles of pale blue encapsulated sharp black pupils that penetrated your own until you felt like you could see inside her mind if you tried hard enough. She seemed crazed, in a way, but also perfectly sane. Maybe it’s because what she was about to say would sound crazy to you, but to her, it was just logic.

“To be the new Messiah.”

Your eyes blinked in quick succession, as if to somehow blink away whatever she had just said to you in complete seriousness. You had only mostly been joking with your theories about these nuns being religious wackos. In this particular instance, you hated being proven right.

“To lead the revival of humanity,” Isabelle added. It did not make you feel any less creeped out.

“Yep,” you said. “We’re out of here.”

The next several moments were a blur, but you soon found yourself watching Daryl yank the keychain from the frantic nun’s belt. He turned towards the door to Pére Jean’s study while she continued to rant about Laurent’s destiny. You couldn’t catch exactly what she was saying as you pushed past her behind Daryl to hurry into the office, your sights set on that radio.

“Don’t you see?” Isabelle continued, nearly out of breath at this point. “This is why you’re here. This is why you washed ashore. This is why I was on the road that day. This is why you were saved.”

Daryl ignored her, rummaging around the room for anything that might’ve been useful on your journey while you fiddled with a few of the buttons and dials. It didn’t seem to respond to your prodding.

“Everything happens for a reason,” she added, paying no mind to you and focusing solely on Daryl.

“Can you fire this thing up?” you asked.

She looked at you in slight confusion, as though she couldn’t fathom your inability to take what she said seriously. You knew she believed it with every fiber in her being, but that didn’t make it true.

“The tube broke a month ago.”

You paused your movements as you processed her words, bile rising up in your esophagus and burning your throat. As for Daryl, he turned with a sharpness that startled even you.

“What?” he asked.

Isabelle’s eyes sank so as not to capture the wrath of Daryl’s stare. “I’ve been trying to get a replacement,” she said, more quietly than before.

Your anger was quickly replaced with hopelessness as you stood up and sighed. Of course the one thing that might be of some immediate help in getting you home was not working.

But Daryl’s anger was potent, more like a searing sting than a raging maelstrom. Still, the storm wasn’t far off. One more inconvenience might tip him over the edge.

Daryl huffed a chuckle of disbelief, then pointed an accusatory finger at the nun. His voice lowered to a growl as he spoke. “You’ve been fuckin’ with us.”

Silence settled uncomfortably between the three of you. Looking between them, you felt the role of mediator begin to overcome you, whether you liked it or not. “Is there… Is there any way we could find a boat, or maybe some kind of settlement that has a boat? Someone who can get us home?”

You didn’t know what to make of Isabelle’s next period of silence. It was clear that she was thinking, but you could not make heads or tails of what. Perhaps she was thinking of a way for the two of you to get home, or perhaps she was concocting some kind of plan that would get the two of you to do whatever it was she wanted. You didn’t think she would let you go that easily, not with how passionately she spoke just moments ago.

“There’s a port up north that may still be active.”

Daryl jumped in before you could even respond. “Show me.” His arm raised towards the large map of France sprawled out on the wall.

“Le Havre,” replied Isabelle, and your eyes darted to where she pointed: a star demarcating a city in the north of France, only a stretch of sea separating it from Britain. The city’s name was written in slanted letters that were bigger than the myriad smaller names surrounding it, but less prominent than the not-too-distant PARIS. It must’ve been a rather major city in its heyday.

“We’ve heard rumors of ships that come and go. But it’s just rumors.”

Turning to look at Daryl, you noticed his focus was fixed on the map. His eyes moved quickly over the lines that stretched across the colored surface like veins. His hand floated up to his chin absentmindedly as his mind processed a dozen or so thoughts. You watched his index finger rub against the skin just under his bottom lip, back and forth. You found yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to speak.

Daryl’s thoughts collided into one, unified by a piece of red thread pinned to the map in a jagged line, surely demarcating some kind of important route. His finger wagged to trace the line in the air as he spoke, “What is this route that’s marked out right here?”

“That’s Pére Jean’s plan to get the boy up north,” replied Isabelle.

You moved closer, your eyes pinpointing various golden pushpins lodged into the thread, each matching up with a town or city noted on the map.

“What do these pins indicate?” you asked.

“They’re stops,” she answered. “Places where we have friends who can help to connect us, radio frequencies.”

A swell of hope rose up in you as you turned to Daryl with wide, bright eyes. Daryl’s attention was caught by your hand squeezing his forearm, further indicating your renewed vigor. “We can take that route up to the port, honey.”

Isabelle seemed to catch onto your enthusiasm. “It’s a treacherous path north,” she said. “Hard to find your way.” The nun turned to you and Daryl with something almost smug in her voice as she spoke. “Harder if you don’t speak French.”

Your heart sank at her discouragement, but Daryl was unmoving. “Get your stuff,” he said to you. This time, you would do so.

In the room you’d awoken in, you scrambled to compile whatever scraps of clothing you’d picked up on the way here, and whatever was left of the clothes you washed up in. Pivoting your head in all sorts of directions, you searched for the large denim vest you’d been wearing. It was nearly brand new when you’d left home weeks ago, its faded Levi’s tag still hanging on by a thread before you yanked it off. Now, it was torn in more than a few places and stained by blood and oil and God only knew what else.

But after a few more frantic turns, you spied it folded neatly on a chair across the room. It wasn’t the vest that mattered, though. It was the contents of its inner pocket.

You hadn’t found yourself the time to check if the photos were still tucked in where they’d been before, but you figured now was as good a time as any.

With a sigh of relief, you removed the Polaroids from the pocket, zipped up and sealed away from the sea water that had engulfed you in the chaos of that night.

Some water had come through, but not enough to mar the image of Robin holding baby Westley in her arms, or Dog and Robin playing in a pile of leaves as Daryl watched in amusement. Every photograph revived another memory as you flipped through them, until the images were clouded by your tears.

That was another reason you’d been dreading checking your pocket―the inevitable sadness that would overcome you if you saw what you’d so foolishly left behind.

It hadn’t been for nothing, of course. You’d never leave home for nothing. It was for Michonne, for Rick. That was the point of all this, and look where it had gotten you. And there was so much to scold yourself for.

For letting Daryl go.

For agreeing to go with him when he asked.

For wanting to be a better wife in the place of being a better mother.

Or at least, that’s what you saw it as now. Why couldn’t you let him go alone? After all, he’d gone out alone more times than you could count ever since the prison. You weren’t a stranger to the concept of Daryl leaving you for sometimes weeks at a time, but this time was different. Daryl had asked you to go. Wanted you to go. You’d joked that it was like a vacation, but it wasn’t. Both of you knew that.

But a part of you was glad you’d gone. If Daryl had gotten into this mess himself, you knew yourself enough to know that you would’ve gone after him anyway, leaving the children in Alexandria no matter what. It was inevitable, you supposed. You hated it. The idea of them alone terrified you, though you hadn’t let yourself dwell on it much until now.

And that’s when your breathing became rapid, your heart pounding while every hair on your body stood on end as you thought of every horrible thing that could possibly happen while you were gone. Each second you stood here was another moment in which the unthinkable could happen to everyone and everything you loved. Hot tears seemed to burn their way down your cheeks, despite how hard you tried to hold them back. A pointless endeavor.

Just as you began to let yourself cry, to let yourself fully feel the weight of what you’d let happen, you heard your name on Daryl’s voice, calling to you from outside. “Let’s go!” he called out.

You swiped your face with your sleeve, and swallowed the unborn tears.

Outside, you lugged your bag over your shoulder to meet up with Daryl, who stood outside near the front gate. Isabelle stood facing him, while the other nuns, perhaps a dozen or so of them, scattered about as if to watch the outsiders leave. Entertainment, you supposed. Or maybe a way to make sure the two of you were really gone.

Laurent was there, too, and you heard him say something to Daryl, but by the time you made it within earshot, he was quiet.

“It ain’t my problem,” Daryl said to Isabelle, and that was all you could catch of their conversation.

The nun’s face looked dejected, hopeless. Though you’d felt mostly annoyed with the woman throughout your stay thus far, even though the reasons weren’t very justified, you couldn’t help but feel sympathy. Perhaps you had no idea what she was going through, nor she you, but at least you could understand her sadness, for whatever it was worth.

“Thank you,” you said, trying to make up for Daryl’s lack of manners. “For helping us.”

Isabelle smiled softly, but there was still a great sadness in her eyes. Daryl made his way towards the heavy wooden door that separated the abbey from the outside world, expecting you to follow.

“And, um… good luck. With everything.”

She only nodded in response, which you took as your signal to leave.

A dirt road made by tire tracks in the ground led the two of you away from the abbey, into the surrounding woods. Maybe less than a mile or so had you walked in near silence, only the sound of gravel underfoot, until you spoke.

“You know, you could’ve at least said thank you.”

Daryl’s brows knit together as he looked at you. “What?”

“Back at the abbey. I don’t like the woman very much but she might’ve saved our lives, especially yours. She let us take weapons, food for the road…”

“Pfft,” he scoffed. “You on a high horse now?”

Smiling, you shook your head. “No, I just… I don’t know. They might be crazy but at least they helped us.”

“Yeah, helped us ‘cause they think I’m The Messenger.” Daryl’s voice rose as he mimicked Isabelle’s words. You snorted and lightly shoved his shoulder with yours.

“Mm, yeah. You notice how everyone there was super interested in you, but not in me?”

One corner of Daryl’s lips curled every so slightly as he looked at you with playful, but tired, eyes. “You jealous again?”

“No,” you laughed. “Well, I mean…”

Your voice trailed off as the sound of distant engines grew louder with each moment that passed. Daryl looked back towards the abbey, but it wasn’t coming from that direction. He turned the other way, and sure enough, it was coming closer—towards the two of you.

There were no words exchanged in this moment, only the feeling of Daryl’s hand grasping your wrist and pulling you to the side of the road, into the wild shrubbery.

Peering through the gently rustling leaves, you watched as a caravan of vehicles zoomed past, heading towards the abbey. You recognized the military-grade jeeps, their insignia painted in white flashing by fast but just enough that you could recognize it from yesterday. It must’ve been the same group that had attacked you, and if it was, then that would undoubtedly spell trouble for the nuns.

Daryl’s eyes were locked onto the caravan until it disappeared into the overgrown woods that shrouded the walls of the abbey. His mind was at war within itself, thoughts of making a break for it with you and leaving the nuns to their fate battling with the moral dilemma that would inevitably haunt him if he did so. And then there was you, of course, who he knew would be against the idea, tempting as it was.

But of course he couldn’t do that. The nuns were well-equipped thanks to the armory, but clearly not experienced in fighting living human beings with automatic weapons. Simple firearms and medieval weapons in the hands of even the most experienced fighter would still be challenged against such a militarized force.

“They’re heading for the abbey,” you said quietly, your voice barely rising above the now distant grumbling of engines. “If we start back now, we can catch up to them before―”

“Nah,” he replied. He looked at you for a moment, watching your face go from confused to annoyed very quickly. “You stay here, I’ll go.”

After over ten years together, you’d think he’d understand that that simply wasn’t how this was going to work, but he had to try.

You tilted your head in questioning. “You’re joking, right?”

He wasn’t.

After some whisper-bickering on the way back to the abbey, the two of you had come to an agreement that you’d wait just outside the front gate, ready to come to Daryl’s aid if he had been gone a suspiciously long time or if you heard something going awry. Daryl had managed to somehow convince you that only one of you going in made more sense than both of you risking your lives for the nuns, but you weren’t exactly happy about it. Any situation which alleviated Daryl’s stress was bound to send yours off the charts.

If you’d had a watch, you might’ve timed him, but alas. All you could do was count the seconds in your head, and keep your eyes and ears open. Leaning against the brick wall, you huffed out an exasperated breath as you squeezed the handle of your hammer with both hands. After a while, you had half a mind to go in there despite nothing particularly alarming happening, until the first gunshot.

Meanwhile, Daryl kept his back pressed against the wall beside the door to the room he’d awakened in. His eyes were focused on the pointed end of the bayonet that slowly inched its way through the doorway, but not very far.

He lifted an axe he’d “borrowed” from the armory and brought it down swiftly upon the bayonet, disarming and momentarily startling the young man who’d held it. Daryl quickly pinned him against the door, then from the corner of his eye, another figure caught his attention.

The man raised a handgun and pointed it in Daryl’s direction, but Daryl was quick enough to use the other man as a human shield, his back absorbing the bullets that were fired. Throwing the lifeless body to the side, Daryl lunged forwards to strike the man across the face and knock the gun loose from his hand. He threw another punch, this time propelling the man backwards until he landed upon a table. Daryl came forward to further incapacitate him, but he was able to kick Daryl back with great force.

Daryl stumbled back several feet, but did not fall. This man was strong, and wouldn’t go easily. That much was evident.

Now with the upper man, the man forced Daryl against the wall, delivering several hits to his stomach before turning him and throwing him hard against the floor. A few particularly frustrated kicks were administered to his abdomen, accompanied by loud grunts to further illustrate the Frenchman’s frustration.

Finally, the man let up, only to turn and retrieve his discarded handgun.

In the courtyard, you rushed past a bloodied scene of several nuns’ bodies, as well as those of most of the men from the caravan, strewn over the stones of the pathway. With your axe held firmly, you called out to Daryl, looking wide-eyed around the once peaceful abbey.

You did not find Daryl, but Isabelle, her flowing white figure turning to look at you as she processed the sound of your voice. You ran towards her, noticing the shock and distress upon her features. Coming closer, you took her wrist into a firm grasp, as if to not let her get away.

“Where’s Daryl? Did you see him?”

She did not speak for a moment, only nodding rapidly as she began to awaken from her shocked stupor.

“Yes… H-he went inside. This way.”

Daryl’s life flashed before his eyes, or so it seemed. Of course, that had happened many times before, but this time, he was sure it was the real thing as the Frenchman stood above him, the barrel of his gun perfectly aimed between Daryl’s widened eyes. In a knee-jerk reaction, he held up his hands as if to block the bullet, but it did not matter…

Rounding the corner and stumbling into the hall, you saw the scene for yourself. Without hesitation, you bolted towards the man, axe held high and all your strength channeled into that swing.

Bringing down the axe, you hit the hand that held the gun, causing the man to grunt in pain. The blade might’ve been too dull to cause any irreversible damage, but it was enough to disarm him and to send him backwards, away from Daryl.

The force of your attack sent even you spinning backwards, but you quickly oriented yourself with the intention of striking the man again, though he’d been quick enough to start making a run for the exit.

Daryl wasted no time in retrieving the gun, coming back up to his feet after the wind had been knocked out of him and into another dimension. Aiming the gun, he shot.

His aim, though, was less than stellar, given the state of his swimming head. The bullet struck the man only in the shoulder, sending him only slightly stumbling as he continued dashing towards the foyer.

As you both followed behind, you were met with a still bewildered Isabelle and a frantic older nun, who practically threw herself in front of Daryl as he tried to aim the gun towards the escapee once more.

“Please. Please. Please, please!” she repeated emphatically, her hands at one point grabbing Daryl with what little strength she had. “Show mercy!”

Daryl, of course, ignored these pleas. As far as he was concerned, these people were not deserving of something that even the most good-hearted of people were so rarely afforded in this world. He continued on to chase after the man, and you were set to follow, but suddenly, you saw the older nun begin to tremble, her legs seeming to fold underneath her.

Isabelle moved quickly to stabilize her, but gravity was beckoning her weak body. You hesitated for a moment, fighting the urge to help the nun as well as the urge to follow Daryl and make sure he didn’t get himself in trouble again. Your heart, however, kept your eyes glued to Isabelle and the older woman as she struggled to keep her steady.

Dropping your axe, you moved to the shaky nun’s other side to hold her weight, taking some burden off Isabelle. Looking around, your eyes fixed onto the nearest perch—the stone steps at the base of the staircase.

“There,” you said, nudging your head towards the stairs. “She needs to sit down.”

The two of you helped the nun to the steps, sitting her down gently between you. She naturally leaned herself against Isabelle, who wrapped her arm around her. You took a moment to look her over, noticing blood pooling in her abdomen. Isabelle moved her hand over the wound, but both of you knew there was nothing that could be done. It was too deep, and too much blood had already been lost. Even now, you could see the color of the older woman’s face, which once might’ve been so full of life, draining to a ghastly pallor.

Still, you had to try.

Taking off your jacket, you were about to press it to the wound, but the nun shook her head and looked at you, her eyes with a familiar dullness that you’d seen before in those near death.

“No,” she said. “It is my time… There is no use.”

Just then, Daryl returned, appearing slightly defeated after the man he’d given chase to had escaped. He came closer, kneeling next to you. The nun reached out a shaky hand towards him. He hesitated for just a moment, then reached his own hand out to meet hers.

“You don’t believe,” she said. “Maybe you never saw a reason to. But one thing I know… reasons are everywhere.”

You watched night fall from your room, the same one you’d awoken in. Daryl had insisted you rest after burying the nuns that had fallen, of which only two remained: Isabelle, of course, and Sylvie. Laurent had been spared, too, much to your relief. But it seemed yours and Daryl’s fates were tied much closer to these new acquaintances than you’d realized. The events of that day had proven as much.

As you watched the flame of a nearby candle dance with languid melancholy, the door to the room creaked open slowly. You turned on your side to face the door to be met with Daryl, his tired face illuminated by a gold flicker. He looked defeated, as he had been, but with a nearly imperceptible glimmer of hope in his eyes. You might not have noticed if you hadn’t seen it before, but you had, and it intrigued you.

“What is it?”

He sat on the edge of the small bed where you laid, his hand resting on your thigh over the threadbare blanket that covered you. He took a deep breath, which spoke of conflicted emotions, followed by his hoarse, tired voice.

“We’re takin’ them to the port.”

You sat up slightly, intrigued by this news. “We are?”

“Yeah… Figured we ain’t got much of a choice.”

You nodded, agreeing that taking Laurent to this “sanctuary” that Isabelle spoke of was probably your best bet for getting home, even if it wasn’t ideal to have to worry about three other people.

“I guess it’s sort of a win-win situation. We help them get to where they want to go, and they help us get to where we want to go.”

“Guess so.”

Silence settled in between you, its presence heavy and filled with words unspoken. You sat up fully, reaching out to touch his shoulders. They were as strong as always, but slumped over slightly. This all weighed so heavily on him, the responsibility. It always does. You knew that he’d never forgive himself, but you could try to reassure him, like you always did.

“None of this is your fault,” you said, knowing that it was what he needed to hear. You leaned closer, pressing yourself against his back and resting your chin upon his shoulder. Your arms wrap around his waist as tightly as they can. This might have been the most intimate you’ve been with him since washing ashore here. It was certainly the closest you’ve felt to him since.

And he felt an immense weight lift off his shoulders, one which he knows will inevitably return, but in this moment, it’s dissipated completely. His body sunk into your embrace, and the tightness in his chest is relieved by a long, deep breath. It’s not just your touch that eased his mind, but your words. Every part of him wanted to object because he knew deep down that it was his fault. It was hard for him to even imagine that it wasn’t. Still, to know that you didn’t blame him, that you still loved him… It made the load he will always carry feel lighter.

“We will get home. I know it.”

You punctuated your statement with a firm kiss to his cheek. His head turned slowly towards yours, his lips meeting yours in a more urgent kiss, one that felt like a promise. Daryl could always say more with his body than with his words, and that’s what he did now—he pulled you closer, now locked in his embrace. His mouth did not separate from yours even for a moment. There was devotion in his kiss, in his hands as they crept up your back and moved up and down in slow, firm caresses. Words couldn’t communicate what he told you with one embrace, but you knew that no matter what fate had in store for you, Daryl would rearrange the stars to change the course of destiny as long as it meant the two of you would make it home. Together.

When your lips separated, you were lost in his eyes, so familiar, like they were windows through which you could see Robin and Wes, waiting patiently in the living room for their parents’ return. If you looked long enough, you were sure you could see yourself and Daryl coming in through the front door to be greeted with open arms.

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