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alba1221141 · 2 months ago

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Mary Janes

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

Jinx

“What an absolutely fucking tragic story.”

“Boy meets girl,” I say, flipping the book open and letting it smack the table with a loud thwack.

“They swap a couple of lines, maybe a little eye-fucking across the room, and then bam—marriage, murder, and melodrama. Honestly, Romeo and Juliet is just horny teenagers making bad decisions with a death toll. Kinda iconic, but also… pathetic.”

Y/N’s trying so hard not to laugh, but that little twitch at the corner of her mouth gives her away.

She glances down at her notebook like it’s suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world, but I know better.

I always know better.

“Come on, admit it,” I press, leaning closer.

“This whole thing is just Shakespeare projecting his wet dreams onto paper. I mean, would you throw yourself into a coffin for someone you just met?”

Y/N looks up, her face a little red, and gives me this look—half-exasperated, half-amused. “It’s supposed to be romantic,” she says, her tone just a little too patient.

“Oh, sure,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Nothing screams romance like poison and stab wounds. That’s hot. Super sexy.” I lean back in my chair, grinning.

“Although, I guess dying for someone is one hell of a flex. Bet Juliet was into some kinky shit.”

“Jinx!” she hisses, her eyes wide as she glances around the library, like the ghost of Shakespeare himself might pop out of the shelves and strike me down.

“What?” I ask, throwing my hands up.

“You think Romeo was all sweet talk and poetry? Nah, that guy was definitely whispering filthy shit to her under the balcony. Bet he was like, Juliet, you light up my world—now get on your-”

Y/N lets out this strangled noise, somewhere between a laugh and a groan, and covers her face with her hands. “You’re impossible,” she mutters.

But I can see her shoulders shaking.

“Impossible, but not wrong,” I say, leaning forward with a smirk.

“You know I’m right. Horny teens and bad decisions—they go hand in hand. Speaking of…” I waggle my eyebrows at her.

“You ever had someone wax poetic about you? Or, I don’t know, climb a fire escape to declare their undying love?”

“No,” she says firmly, her voice muffled behind her hands.

“Shame,” I say, tapping my chin. “You’re missing out. Although, honestly? If someone pulled that shit with me, I’d probably just drag them inside and—”

“Jinx!” she whisper-yells, her voice high-pitched and scandalized.

Her face is so red now I’m almost worried she’s going to combust.

Almost.

I grin, sitting back in my chair and crossing my arms. “What? I’m just saying. Life’s short. Might as well enjoy it. Or are you more of a ‘tragic, yearning stares from a distance’ type?”

She gives me a look.

The kind of look that says I’m pushing my luck.

But I catch the tiniest flicker of amusement in her eyes.

It’s faint.

But it’s there, and it’s enough to keep me going.

“Can we please focus?” she says, her voice trembling with suppressed laughter.

“Sure,” I say, picking up the book again and thumbing through the pages. “But I’m warning you now, I’m not letting Romeo off the hook for being the patron saint of bad decisions.”

Y/N leans back in her chair, pressing her lips together like she’s trying desperately not to laugh.

Her cheeks are pink, and there’s this quiet glow to her that tugs at something in my chest.

I ignore it.

“So,” I say, flipping the book open again with an exaggerated flourish.

“Are we supposed to write some revolutionary take on this mess, or is it just vibes and clichés? You’re the genius here, enlighten me.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s that little curve to her lips, the one that makes her whole face soften. “Themes,”

“We’re supposed to analyze the themes, connect them to modern relationships, and explain why the story is still relevant.”

“Relevant?” I snort, leaning back. “Oh, sure. Because every teenager I know is out here marrying strangers after one dance and dying for them two days later. So relatable.”

“You’re impossible,” she says, shaking her head, but her voice is warm, light, teasing.

“Thank you,” I say, grinning.

She picks up her pen again, her focus shifting back to the notebook in front of her.

Naturally, I lean over, because how could I not snoop, but she slams it shut before I can even get a glimpse.

“Oh, come on,” I groan, clutching my chest like she’s mortally wounded me. “What’s the big secret? Writing a love letter? A sonnet? A tragic ode to unrequited love?”

“It’s not a secret,” she says firmly, though the way her fingers tighten around the notebook tells a different story. “It’s just not finished.”

“Uh-huh.” I narrow my eyes at her, my grin sharp and unrelenting.

“You’re not secretly crushing on Romeo, are you? Or maybe…”

My voice drops, dripping with mock drama. “Maybe you’ve got your own Romeo? Someone you’re tragically pining for?”

Her cheeks turn a brilliant shade of crimson, and her eyes dart everywhere except at me.

“Oh my God,” I say, sitting up like I’ve just cracked the biggest mystery of the century. “You do! Who is it? Come on, spill. I need to know everything.”

“There’s no one!” she protests, but her voice is high-pitched, and her fingers fidget with the corner of her notebook.

“Liar,” I say, my grin turning downright devious.

I tap my chin like I’m deep in thought.

“Is it someone in our class? That broody guy who always acts like he’s too cool to care? Or…” I pause, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe it’s a girl?”

Her pen freezes mid-air.

For a second, she looks at me like I’ve uncovered her deepest, darkest secret.

Bingo.

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Y/N

I can feel my heart picking up its pace, a strange fluttering in my chest that has nothing to do with the subject matter at hand. Jinx’s words echo in my mind, her teasing lingering far longer than I’d like to admit. The way she looked at me, the mischievous grin on her face—it’s enough to make me squirm, but I won’t let her see that.

“No one,” I reply firmly, hoping the edge in my voice sounds more convincing than it feels. “I’m not—there’s just no one.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she leans back in her chair, crossing her arms with a soft chuckle. “Alright, if you say so.”

I focus on my notebook, flipping a page with deliberate care. The task at hand should be enough to keep me grounded, and yet the thought of her knowing something I’ve never fully acknowledged myself unsettles me. It feels as though she’s pierced a part of me I’m still figuring out, and that makes me more uncomfortable than I’m willing to admit.

Still, I refuse to let that show. Instead, I straighten up, refocusing on our assignment. “Regardless, Romeo and Juliet is still a farcical tragedy,” I begin, keeping my tone calm and collected, but there’s a subtle bite to it. “The impulsiveness, the poor decisions—it’s a pattern in a lot of Shakespeare’s works. It speaks to the nature of youth, to desire, rather than rational thought.”

Jinx snorts, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, sure, I’m sure that’s exactly what Shakespeare was going for. Desire, right? More like he was just a horny old man trying to sell sex on the page. No wonder those two idiots killed themselves over each other.”

I nod, careful to keep my composure. “Yes. Desire, more than love. They acted on passion rather than considering the consequences. Shakespeare’s portrayal of love is often hyperbolic, exaggerated to the point where it’s almost abs-"

I get cut off by another snicker from her followed by, "You damn nerd."

I pause mid-sentence, blinking at her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she says, tilting her head, her grin widening. “You’re such a nerd, Y/N. Who even says ‘hyperbolic’ in casual conversation? It’s like you’re auditioning for a Shakespeare reboot.”

I huff, sitting up straighter. “It’s called having a vocabulary,” I reply, my tone clipped but teasing. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

She gasps dramatically, clutching her chest like I’ve struck her through with a dagger. “Wow. Coming at me with the intellectual smackdown, huh? Careful, or I’ll start quoting Shakespeare back at you.”

“Please don’t,” I say quickly, holding up a hand like I’m warding off some impending disaster.

Jinx grins, leaning forward now, her elbows on the table. “Oh, but wouldn’t you love that? Imagine me up on a balcony, all, But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” She pauses, fluttering her eyelashes for effect. “You’d swoon. Admit it.”

“I’d laugh,” I correct, refusing to give her the satisfaction. “And then I’d shut the window.”

She cackles, the sound sharp and chaotic, and it’s impossible not to smile. “Cold, Y/N. Ice cold. No wonder you don’t have a Romeo climbing fire escapes for you.”

I roll my eyes, flipping a page in the book to feign disinterest. “Not everyone needs a grand romantic gesture, Jinx. Some of us prefer substance over theatrics."

Jinx leans back in her chair, propping her boots up on the edge of the table like she owns the place. Her smirk is sharp, eyes glittering with mischief.

“C'mon, Y/N,” she drawls. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t want someone to show up, grand gesture and all, declaring undying devotion? Maybe a little dramatic fainting thrown in for good measure?”

I snort. “No. Definitely not. I’d find it mortifying.”

She tilts her head, feigning innocence. “What about some spicy poetry? Like, Oh, Y/N, your... uh, unparalleled intelligence leaves me trembling.” Her voice dips into a breathy almost smutty tone, and I roll my eyes.

“You’re insufferable,” I mutter, flipping through my notes.

“And you’re boring,” she fires back without missing a beat. “Where’s the fun, huh? You don’t think Juliet was secretly hoping Romeo would skip the iambic pentameter and just pin her to a wall?”

I look up, feeling my cheeks heat. “Jinx.”

“What?” she says, her grin downright wicked now. “I’m just saying. The whole woe is me, tragic romance thing might’ve been for show. Behind closed doors, she was probably like, Enough about the stars, Romeo, let’s talk about your sword.”

And I falter, my laughter bubbling up uncontrollably before bursting out so loud that it shatters the quiet of the library. The sound is obnoxious, and I can’t stop it, even though I know I should. Mrs. Clark, the poor librarian, scurries over to us, her face draining of color when she realizes it’s me—me—who caused the disturbance. Her eyes widen in horror, and I shrink back in my seat, wishing the floor would swallow me whole.

“Y/N,” Mrs. Clark says sharply, her voice quivering with disapproval, “This is a library. I expect more from you.”

I swallow, my throat tight, and I can barely meet her gaze. The silence that follows is suffocating, broken only by the scratch of Mrs. Clark’s pen as she writes us both a detention slip. “After school,” she mutters, her voice tight. She hands us the slips, one by one, and I want to crawl under the table, but I can't. Not with everyone staring.

I take the slip, my hands trembling, my face burning with the weight of the embarrassment. Jinx’s laughter, the one that started all this, has quieted, but there's still a mischievous glint in her eyes. At first, it seems like she's enjoying my discomfort, and I can't help but wish she’d be quiet for just a moment, let me process this in peace.

But then, her smirk fades. She glances at me, her expression softening as she catches the way my shoulders slump, the way I'm trembling. I try to blink back the tears threatening to spill, but they’re already in my eyes. It’s stupid, it’s just a detention, but the humiliation is unbearable.

Jinx doesn’t say anything at first, but I can feel the weight of her gaze on me as I struggle to hold back the tears. She slides out of her chair, slowly stepping closer, crouching down beside me with a quiet seriousness I’ve rarely seen from her. Her voice, when it comes, is low, almost soothing.

“Hey,” she says, her words gentle, like she’s trying to reach through the storm inside me. “It’s not that bad, okay? Detention's just... it's nothing. It’s temporary.”

I don’t respond, but I can feel the tears starting to burn in my eyes, and I just can't stop them. I keep my gaze fixed on the floor, trying to hide how I’m trembling.

Jinx doesn’t back away, though. Instead, she reaches out, her hand soft as it rests on my shoulder, the touch surprisingly warm and comforting. “Come on toots, let’s go,” she says, her voice so different from the usual teasing tone, like she’s saying it for me, not for her. “I’ll take you somewhere... just let’s get out of here, okay?”

I nod, my throat tight, and let her guide me out of the library. The hallways feel colder now, like everything around me is a reminder of how utterly humiliated I feel. But Jinx stays close, walking beside me, her presence steady and unwavering, like she’s determined not to let me fall apart alone.

She leads me into the girls’ bathroom, the door shutting quietly behind us. It’s quiet, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead, and for a moment, everything feels still. Jinx leans against the counter, watching me with a softness in her eyes that I’ve never seen before. She doesn’t say anything at first, just lets me breathe, lets the silence settle between us.

I break.

The tears come without warning, and I retreat to the corner, curling into myself, trying to make myself smaller. I press my hands to my face, desperate to hide the rawness of what I’m feeling. The sobs are quiet at first, but they soon escape in harsh, ragged breaths. The shame, the embarrassment—it’s overwhelming, suffocating. I feel completely exposed, fragile, and utterly out of control.

I don’t want her to see me like this. I don’t want anyone to. But she doesn’t leave.

There’s a quiet moment, just the sound of my breathing, of me trying to stifle the sobs. And then Jinx moves toward me, her steps slow, careful. She crouches down next to me, not trying to force anything, not speaking. She just watches me for a moment, her eyes filled with something tender, and then her hand reaches out. Her fingers brush through my hair, slow and soothing, the soft strokes almost enough to make me forget everything else.

"Shhh," she murmurs, her voice quiet, barely above a whisper. "It’s okay."

I can’t stop the tears. I don’t even try. But the sound of her voice, the feel of her fingers weaving through my hair, so gentle, so careful—it’s grounding. She doesn’t rush me, doesn’t tell me to stop crying. She just stays there, her touch like a balm for the rawness inside me.

After a long moment, she shifts again, her hand moving to wipe away the tears that have soaked my cheeks. Her fingers are gentle, each movement deliberate, as if she’s treating me like something fragile but important. Her touch is steady, patient, and it’s like she’s saying, without words, that I don’t have to hide. That I’m allowed to feel, to break.

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Jinx

"C'mon, toots—it’s only an hour, alright? No big deal." I glance at Y/N, tucked behind me like a little puppy, her hand in mine.

It’s like she’s trying to disappear into the floor, and I don’t... I don’t know what to do with that.

I peek into the detention room, Mr. Wheeler’s already there, half asleep

Of course he is.

His glasses are dangling off his nose, like he forgot they even exist.

He’s ancient—like, fossil-level ancient—but whatever.

Doesn’t matter.

I yank the door open.

And there he is. Boy savior himself, sitting in the corner, all quiet and broody.

I waggle my free hand at him. Big, dumb wave. Like, hi, notice me!

Ekko’s head pops up.

His face twists into full-on confusion. Like, what the actual hell?

His eyes dart to Y/N behind me, all tucked in and quiet, and I can practically hear the gears in his head grinding.

I can see it.

The way his gaze softens, just a little, but then hardens again.

Like he’s trying to figure out how to act, what to say, how to breathe, maybe.

And I get it. I do.

Because once, a long time ago, it was the three of us.

Ekko. Y/N. Me.

Best friends.

And now?

Now we’re... this. Whatever this is. Unspoken crap hanging in the air like a bad smell.

After what happened—Vander’s death, Vi’s wrongful juvie sentence, and Silco taking me in...

Shit hit the fan.

Everything snapped.

The three of us? We used to be inseparable.

Me, Boy Savior, and Y/N. We were the kind of trio that people envied—always laughing, always plotting, always looking out for each other.

But after everything fell apart?

That trio was gone. Just... gone.

Ekko and I? We managed to reconcile. Somehow. It wasn’t easy, but we put the pieces back together.

Mostly.

But Y/N and him?

Never.

Whatever they had? Whatever we all had? It just crumbled. And they never found their way back to each other.

The air feels heavy. Like it’s pressing down on us.

Y/N’s hand squeezes mine. Tight. Too tight. Like she thinks if she lets go, she’ll just... vanish.

I glance back at her. Pale. Shaking. Her eyes darting everywhere except him.

Ekko.

The Boy Savior.

He’s staring at her like she’s a ghost. Or maybe a grenade. His jaw’s tight, hands fidgeting like he doesn’t know where to put them.

Say something.

Do something.

But he just sits there. Quiet. Staring.

It’s unbearable.

“Gonna sprain something, Boy Savior,” I snap, too loud, too sharp. “All that thinking’s dangerous, y’know.”

His head snaps up. Eyes narrow. “Jinx.”

That tone. Even. Calm. Like he’s the adult in the room.

Which he's not cause fucking Mr Wheeler's old ass is at the desk asleep now.

“What?” I throw my free hand up, grinning like a lunatic. “Just saying. You look like you’re trying to solve the meaning of life or some shit.”

Still nothing.

He glances at Y/N again.

And she flinches.

I can’t. I can’t with this.

“Seriously? We’re doing this? Now?” My voice comes out sharper than I mean. “It’s detention. Not a goddamn soap opera.”

“Jinx, stop.”

Her voice.

Soft. Cracked. Barely there.

I freeze. Look at her. She’s hiding behind me, eyes on the floor, her face red like she’s about to cry again.

My chest tightens.

Ekko’s watching us, his expression... weird. Guilty? Concerned? I can’t tell.

“Whatever,” I mutter, pulling Y/N further into the room. “Let’s just sit.”

I drag her to the far corner, away from him. Away from everything.

We sit. She tries to pull her hand away, but I don’t let go. Nope. Not happening.

“Uh-uh, toots,” I whisper. “You’re stuck with me.”

She doesn’t argue. Just wipes her face with her sleeve, all quiet and miserable.

Across the room, I can feel him watching.

Always watching.

And I hate it.

I hate all of this.

I hear a grunt and then...

"The hell is she in here for?"

Ekko’s voice slices through the tension like a blade.

Y/N stiffens beside me, her hand still in mine, like she’s trying to hide behind me.

“Y/N’s here because—” I start, but I don’t know how to finish that.

The fuck should I say?

“Because I laughed too loud,” Y/N mumbles, barely loud enough to hear.

Ekko blinks.

“You?” he says, voice full of disbelief.

“Apparently.” Y/N pulls her hand away from mine tucking them into her sleeves like she’s trying to hide.

I snort, rolling my eyes. “It’s ‘cause Mrs. Clark is a total cunt.”

Ekko’s eyes narrow.

His face hardens a little—like he’s getting pissed off, not at us, but at the absurdity of it. “She really gave you detention for that?” His voice drops, angry now. “For laughing? That’s... that’s fucking ridiculous.”

I nod, crossing my arms. “Told ya. Stupid.”

Y/N looks down, trying to disappear into the floor like she can avoid everything.

So, of course, I’m not having that.

I grab her hand. “C’mon, Y/N. Detention? Are you seriously gonna sit here like some sad sack when we could be out there making actual trouble?”

She gives me the side-eye, clearly hesitant. “I’m not sure—”

“Stop thinking, and just do,” I snap, tugging her toward the window. "I’m done with this place, and you should be too."

She hesitates again, her face a mix of nervousness and confusion. I roll my eyes. “Detention’s for losers, Y/N. And you’re not a loser. You’re a rebel just waiting to burst out.”

Ekko’s already halfway through the window, a grin plastered on his face like he’s got nothing better to do than burn this place to the ground. “C’mon, this is way better than sitting in that crap hole. You don’t want to miss it.”

I lean out the window, breathing in the night air like it’s the first breath of freedom I’ve had in ages. “You’re seriously gonna let this lame-ass detention keep you locked up? Or are you gonna live a little?”

She’s still stiff, unsure, but there’s a flicker in her eyes.

She’s fighting it.

I see it. She’s craving a reason to break the rules, but she’s scared.

I pull her closer, voice low but firm. “Look, it’s just one little jump, Y/N. What’s the worst that can happen? Get caught and get another detention? Big deal. You can always blame me. I’ve got it covered.”

Finally, after what feels like forever, she steps up.

Slowly at first, but then quicker.

She's in.

I laugh, watching her climb out. “That’s my girl,” I mutter, watching her face. There’s a spark in her now, and I can feel it.

She’s gonna love this.

We all slide out the window, landing in the cool night air.

Ekko shoots me a look, like we're all in on some big joke. “Now this is how you do it,” he says, grinning ear-to-ear.

Y/N looks at me, her face still a little stunned, but now she’s definitely feeling it. “I can’t believe we just did that,” she says, breathless.

“You bet your ass we did,” I say, with a grin that could cut glass.

“Best decision of your life. Welcome to the rebellion, toots.”

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

authors note: the friendship has begun to progress slightly, more where that came from ;)

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strangerthingsfanworkrecs · 1 month ago

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Artist Highlight: Jo-Harrington

This week, we're highlighting @jo-harrington! All recs this week will be for her work. @jo-harrington writes for the Stranger Things Fandom, with a special focus on xOC, and xReader fics. She's also a great beta-editor and design all the graphics for her fics! We're highlighting Jo for her incredible world building and strong OCs.

You should check out her Store Manager Verse fics for some great fluff and top-tier retail angst Jo answered some questions about her creative process and her work under the cut

Why Stranger Things?

I’ve been an avid ST Fan since the beginning. My old Store Manager and I watched the first episode in the backroom of our store while folding t-shirts and rest was history. Fic-wise, a certain Metalhead Dungeon Master brought me out of a fanfiction posting hiatus and I haven’t looked back since.

What's your favorite ship (platonic or romantic) to create for?

Platonic is always going to be the Hellfire Club boys. I love writing their adventures. Their friendship is epic and deserves to be explored and celebrated. Romantic…EddiexOC or EddiexReader. I mean, I’ve been an xOC girl since my first fandom. xReader is new for me but it’s almost an extension of xOC. I always joke that I’m allowed ONE epic borbo obsession love of my life per decade and I’ll give them one canon pairing but the rest are OCs.

What's your typical writing process like?

I have an idea, I write it down, I get sick of working on a chapter, I don’t edit, I post. (Which is funny because when I beta, I am a lot more detailed. But for my own work I just need it out of my head.) It might not be the best. It could probably read better or have less typos or mistakes. But it’s always from the heart.

How do you come up with your OCs?

I sit there for a long time and figure out how I can put a part of myself into a story. Oops was I not supposed to say that? Sometimes you think of a character that you just can’t help but want to write. But even if they aren’t a manifestation of your physical self or your personality, they almost always end up being an extension of you in some ways, or something you aspire to be. You also need to add some attributes you hate into them, so that they’re not too perfect and you can throttle them around and make them suffer and not feel too bad/let it become a self hatred thing.

What has been your favorite project so far? Why?

Store Manager Verse. (EMxReader) Retail is who I am and who I’ve always been. I had a mall romance irl that went south. So it was a way to rewrite my past with my comfort character…and also give said comfort character a happy ending as well.

What has been your hardest project so far? Why?

As Above, So Below. (EMxOC) It is a passion project, it is a beast, every chapter takes an emotional toll on me and it takes a month—if not more—to recover. But it has been the single most fulfilling project that I’ve worked on in the 20 years I’ve been writing fanfiction. I've been working on it for about 2 years now. 3 more chapters til the end…I’m gonna be very sad when it’s over.

Have you ever had a creative block? How did you get over it?

My brain is just a beehive that I shake every now and again to get the bees angry. Honestly, the bigger block I get into is self-doubt. I have no problem finding the words, it’s the courage to put them to paper I struggle with at times.

Is there a big source of inspiration for you? Books? Art? Games?

Yes all of the above. But in all seriousness, life experience is the best inspiration. There’s only so much research you can do. Truly for me, the canon characters are the source of inspiration. Then I take from things I’ve done, things I’ve read, places I’ve been in order to take an idea to a fully formed plot.

Is there an upcoming project you're particularly excited about?

Eddie Munson Big Bang. I know you’re gonna hear that a lot. I love creating really ambitious AUs and I think this one is really testing my abilities as a writer. It's a crossover fic, in a way, but with a lot of original plot folded in. I hope I do both fandoms/universes justice.

Is there anything we didn't ask that you'd like to add?

I’m from the Midwest, so thank you for listening to all of my long-winded answers. Haha.

#writer highlight #strangerthingsfanarthighlights #stranger things #x oc #x reader #jo-harrington #artist intro

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sociopathicartist · 5 months ago

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This was 100% indulgent by me and not requested (which is why it came out off schedule lol). I know I usually write for classic Sans, but along with Horrortale, Dreamtale is and always has been one of my favorite AUs, so I wanted to write something for Nightmare. Hope you guys enjoy this unexpected work :3

DREAMTALE - Nightmare Romantic Headcanons (indulgent with you as his lover)

Dreamtale is an extremely complex story with extremely complex characters that I have been figuring out for the past several years, trying to get my hands on the most canonical information about Dream and Nightmare and the story itself, especially with how muddled their characters have become within the fandom. If you like the stories where Nightmare is soft and cooing and Dream is a bully and is toxic, then this probably won't be an enjoyable read, but as all of my followers know, I always try my best to stick to how the characters canonically act. I could ramble on and on about this AU in particular and about how misunderstood both Dream and Nightmare are, but that’s something I’d only do if my opinions on it were requested since it would be an extremely long ramble.

The background for these headcanons can be whatever you wish, but just know that behind these it’s implied that you’re being forced to stay with Nightmare (you’re a bit silly like me if you’d ever willingly stay with him.)

DATES / ROMANCE

- While I do love the romantic aspects that Nightmare himself can be implied to have, I mean the setup is perfect for romance (beautiful dark castle, dark, brooding character, etc), I just don’t see him wasting his time being romantic.

- The exception is that he is a manipulator, and will do/say things that don’t seem in character at all for him so that he can win you over and make you believe that somewhere in there he is good and that he can change (it’s never gonna happen, baby), but I don’t see him doing these things without ulterior motives.

- Maybe he’s noticed that you don’t seem to be as keen on him as you usually would be, that his unloving and harsh personality is beginning to take a toll on you and you’re no longer seeking him out as much as you used to, so what better to do than make you think that he, you know, cares?

- Anytime he takes you out on a date to cozy you back up to his side and make you think he cares about you, it’s always with the intention of keeping you on the borderline of hating him and being obsessed with wanting his affection and love.

- Now, that doesn’t mean that the dates aren’t romantic or that they’re horrible dates. Just because I don’t think he’s romantic himself (he’s too selfish IMO) doesn’t mean that he doesn’t know how to do romantic things. After all, if the dates he took you on sucked then you probably wouldn’t fall for him again like you always do.

- Sometimes when he’s hurt your feelings after he threw something at you, or you both got into an argument (good luck), he’ll do something easier, something lower effort to get you out of your bedroom and stop ignoring him and his servants like you have for the past several hours.

- Coffee shops are something he’s learned you like, and of course, there are selfish reasons to it, because he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t love coffee. Cafes and Library dates are almost always his go-to whenever you’re so upset with him that you shut him out completely and lock yourself away in your room. While he doesn’t enjoy said dates very much (he’s fonder of reading new books and coffee, that’s it), he has to do them so that you’ll finally warm up to him again. How else can he keep tearing you down if you’re just always at your lowest? It would make you emotionally numb at some point.

- He did take you to FluffyTale once to where CCINO Sans works (you had no clue what was going on, and when you saw the look on CCINO’s face when he saw Nightmare, you knew it was nothing good). Why he did do that? Not sure. But it happened.

- For more extreme cases where he’s hurt you in a flash of anger (surprisingly he doesn’t do that too much to you, he may be annoyed 24/7 and may be a bitch but he does have good control over his emotions and the backlash for hurting you physically isn’t worth it with the recovery in his opinion), he does more caring things to get you to believe that he’s finally changed, even if just a bit, and that it’s not going to happen again.

- Of course, he doesn’t tell you that he’s sorry, and he doesn’t tell you that he won’t hurt you again. Nightmare never lies, only conceals the truth (canon btw), so you won’t hear mele promises from him. It’s exactly why he has to put more effort into actions sometimes.

- In the extreme case where he has physically hurt you, whether he slammed you against a wall or knocked you down to the ground, he does give you time to gather yourself in your room until you’re ready to come out, unlike how he pesters you when you both just argue. Not only does letting you waller in your self-pity for hours benefit him and his love for feeding off of your negative emotions, but it does give you time to think and calm down, which he needs you to do for him to be able to worm his way back into your mind.

- After being locked away for hours and examining any bruises you got from him when you’re finally ready to come out and find him, he’s gotten you roses (one of the only flowers he doesn’t hate, it matches the aesthetic with his castle.) and has set up a nice dinner with your favorite food, letting you indulge in the rarer evenings that are so nice that they almost let you forget about all of the tears you cried and all of the lingering pain he put you through.

SLOW DAYS

- Nightmare is someone extremely difficult to just relax with and bond with.

- HOWEVER

- His canon personality is not all ‘grrr i hate you grr im gonna beat the shit out of you and kill everyone you love’ because while he does have his moments, don’t think I’m saying he doesn’t, he just isn’t horrible 100% of the time.

- We know for a fact (sourced by Q&A’s and comics from JOKU) that Nightmare does have indulgent hobbies that PassiveNightmare used to have, like how he reads sometimes, and just also sourced from the same things, he isn’t angry a lot of the time. Or… He doesn’t show it. He’s manipulative, he’s extremely smart, and while he is annoyed almost all of the time, it’s not beneficial to his manipulative behaviors to show that 24/7.

- Plus, just because he’s annoyed doesn’t mean the man can’t sit there and relax with a good-ass book and some coffee.

- For whatever reason he’s keeping you locked up in the castle with him (I’m basing the reason off my a03 book with Nightmare, solely because I don't see why else he would bother keeping someone), as long as you don’t sit there and purposefully annoy him as Killer does, he doesn’t care if you want to sit in the same room as him.

- He’s described in books as busy all the time, and granted, I do love love love the idea of Nightmare being all hot doing paperwork at his desk and shit like that, but it just doesn’t make much sense to me. Like… He spreads negativity throughout universes and RARELY ever kills people, is he having to do paperwork over their hurt feelings or something?? This is no diss to those books because I love the concept of it and mmmmmm do I love an overworked Nightmare, but the idea when put into logical retrospect just doesn’t make much sense in my opinion.

- Therefore, since he’s literally been lounging around doing god knows what for 500+ years, I can see him having some boring and uneventful days in the castle.

- Since now you’re in the castle with him, it’s a bit easier to help pass the time with his ‘lover’ (he hates that word since he doesn’t and CANT love and hates any boyfriend/girlfriend label, it makes him feel too humane and in touch).

- You might just wake up and look for him after being served breakfast in your room like always, finding out that he’s in the castle today from one of his servants, and it’s always a straight shot guess of where he is.

- He doesn’t spend too much time in his bedroom. It’s a place that he only associates with sleep and changing clothes, and since he doesn’t need sleep to live, he just never really goes in there. You most likely won’t find him lurking in his bedroom at all.

- But the next best place where you can always find him is in his study or the library. Whenever he has the free time, you can’t recall seeing him without some sort of book in his hand. Sometimes he breaks free of the old habit and decides to write or drink some coffee while watching the rain pour down outside through his study window, but that isn’t as often.

- Surprisingly, he doesn’t typically turn down your company. Perhaps it’s for his selfish entertainment, or maybe he just finds you intriguing to talk to (I’d hope he did after going through the effort to kidnap you and keep you kidnapped), but if he notices you strolling into his study, still in your pajamas and sleepy from just waking up, he simply just has one of the servants outside the study room bring you some coffee or tea to drink while you sit down next to him to see what he’s reading.

BONDING / CONVERSATIONS

- In no means am I saying that Nightmare isn’t abusive, he is and would be in any sort of relationship (we see this firsthand with him and Ccino sans.), but he’s not too estranged to just conversate with.

- Usually, lazy days when he’s just staying in the castle and isn’t in a completely horrible and stressed mood are the days where you can talk with him best, like normal people.

- Sometimes he’ll tell you about the book he’s reading, and go into a long explanation about the entire story and plot without any pauses or breaks, just talking mindlessly to pass the time.

- Other times he tells you about the missions he’s planning on doing or has done, which he only tells you about because unless you’re on a date together, you never leave the castle. And even when on dates, you’re always stuck by his side and under his constant supervision, so there’s never any chance for you to blabber to anyone about what he tells you or for you to run.

- It was a huge shock to you at first with how conservative he can be, and how he can just talk and also listen in a normal, back-and-forth conversation, sometimes about absolutely nothing. You’d just never expect it from him, but even though he does not care about or love you by any means (just like how it is impossible for Dream to hate, it’s also impossible for Nightmare to love), if he’s kidnapped you in the castle to keep you as a romantic partner for some reason, he has some level of interest or obsession with you, so he’s more keen to just talking like normal with you compared to talking to other people, like Killer for one.

- As for bonding, most of your bonding is just during already discussed and elaborated lazy days around the castle or dates that only happened because he hurt you and needs you to warm up to him again. While you can fall in love and be as cooing to him as you’d like, Nightmare doesn’t experience the bonding you do since he doesn’t feel love. He views quality time as a way to learn more about his fixation on you.

LIVING IN THE CASTLE

(last one for now!! i could just KEEEEP writing about this, but i wanna save it for other headcanons with him in the future.)

- You live a pretty lavish life in the castle, I’m ngl.

- I’ve said it SOSOSO many times, and I’m gonna say it again, Nightmare is extremely manipulative. Thus, he allows your every need in the castle to be taken care of and makes sure that your bedroom is just the way you like it, and that you have anything you could want there.

- Having you be so comfortable in the castle and enjoy your life there makes it indefinitely easier for Nightmare to tear your little heart into pieces. It’s so easy to do when your upset mood is constantly distracted by how good of a life you have there (mostly, save for Nightmare being a bitch) and it just makes it easier for him to hurt your feelings and feed off your negative emotions.

- To elaborate, if you lived a horrible life in the castle and he kept you locked away in some dungeon cell without any freedom to roam the castle, kept you in the same clothes you showed up in, and only gave you water and bread crusts for dinner, it would be very difficult to prevent you from going emotionally numb.

- There’s only so much distress one can take before shutting down, and if he wants to keep hurting you over and over again, it would be very hard to do so when you’re always at your lowest due to your living conditions in the castle.

- Having you live a lavish life with all the physical comforts (except his LMFAO) you could want keeps your mood boosted easier, and allows you to recover quicker from his emotional abuse. When you easily go back to being happy and forgiving him due to your luxury of being able to take walks in the garden by yourself, take a hot bath, and drink some nice tea, it only makes it to where he has to do less work to manipulate your emotions. He can do all of the cheering up indirectly (other than taking you out on dates when he’s super super mean to you) and just let himself indulge in the privilege of hurting you again.

- So, yeah. When it comes to living in the castle you’re pretty much set up for life, living like basically royalty. The only difficult part that always tears you down to earth is whenever Nightmare decides to mess you up again.

There's my short ramble!

I said short, this was a long headcanon list, but it’s short to me when I compare it with how much more I could have written. I’m on a dreamtale crave right now since it has been one of my favorite au’s for a long time, and writing my a03 book with nightmare and dream has sparked the writing love for it again, so if anyone wants any requests for dream and nightmare I will take those up asap along with my others!

Thanks for reading!!

NIGHTMARE AND DREAMTALE BELONG TO JOKUBLOG!!

#undertale #undertale au #undertale alternate universe #sans #sans undertale #sans x reader #sans x you #sans headcanons #nightmare sans #nightmare sans x reader #dreamtale

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o9t1mus-x · 8 months ago

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Papa's Nighttime Routines HC's

headcanons include: primo, secondo, terzo, and copia

word count: 1.7k

authors note: WHOOO BUDDY i cranked out two pieces today, i am on a roll! comments are always appreciated, i'd love to hear your thoughts! headcanons are so fun, it's like playing with a little doll that you're borrowing for playtime

warnings: none that i know of! send me a message if you see any that need disclosed :)

Primo

Primo starts his night around 6:30, where he enters his quarters and immediately collapses into his armchair. He’ll usually take a few moments to just sit there. He’s usually not burdened by paperwork so much anymore, but Siblings depend on him for guidance. Whether it be a deep internal struggle, or simply asking where the correct potting soil is kept in storage, he has to answer many questions. It takes a toll going from one extreme to the lowest degree.

After a few moments in his armchair decompressing, he makes his way to the bathroom, where he goes to take his shower. He takes a shower at night, and occasionally in the morning if he’s had a rough night. He still uses shampoo even though he’s bald, he doesn’t want to have an oily looking head. He uses a peppermint scented body wash, he claims it “wakes his skin up”

After getting out of the shower, he uses an unscented lotion and takes his towel out of his towel warmer (a birthday gift from Terzo.) He cleanses his face of paint before hopping in the shower, and uses a moisturizer after his shower. He makes sure to apply moisturizer evenly, making sure to get in all of his wrinkles and fine lines.

After his shower, he’ll get into his pajamas. His pajamas are a silk sleeping set, maroon colored. He also has some fluffy house slippers that are worn down because he’s used them for quite a long time. During the winter he opts for thick lodge socks. He has quite the collection! He brushes his teeth thoroughly with a black licorice toothpaste.

When he’s clothed, he usually settles into bed with a good book. He’s partial to nonfiction, but he also likes fantasy. If he’s feeling saucy, he’ll read some dark romance. He has an extensive bookcase, all of the brothers are avid readers.

He usually falls asleep around 9:30. He sleeps straight on his back, arms folded over his stomach. He tends to snore, but it’s not obnoxious, just a slow back and forth rumble. His brothers swear that Primo talked in his sleep when he was a kid, but Primo denies this vehemently.

On his nightstand he has a glass of water, his reading glasses, his nighttime book, and a box of tissues (his allergies act up at night).

Secondo

Secondo’s night starts around 7 or 8, depending on if he has confessional duty. Once he gets back to his quarters, he likes to decompress by having a cigarette on his patio. He enjoys looking across the Abbey courtyard, watching the Siblings make their way to their rooms.

After his cigarette is down to the filter, he goes to take off his paints. Secondo is more of a shower in the morning, but he doesn’t mind taking a relaxing bath in the evening from time to time. Once he takes his paints off, he moisturizes well and applies an under eye cream. He loathes the fact that his under eyes have started to wrinkle, and he dislikes his crows feet.

After cleansing his face, he makes his way to his dresser, where he undresses. After making sure to hang his robes up correctly to avoid wrinkling, he puts his dirty clothes in the hamper. He dislikes having clutter around his personal space. As for pajamas, Secondo is likely to sleep naked with just a pair of long black socks. He finds clothes suffocating under his blankets, and just prefers to sleep naked. During the winter he may wear a white undershirt and some boxers, along with his standard black socks. Before he goes to bed, he finishes up by brushing his teeth with mint toothpaste and flossing his teeth violently. He says he has no idea why his gums bleed.

As for his nighttime activities, Secondo likes to curl up with a book and a small glass of expensive whiskey, the kind that makes you want to curl up and die after a small sip. For reading material, he prefers nonfiction, usually theology or philosophy. If he’s feeling saucy, he will read just straight up erotica.

Secondo goes to bed around 9:30 to 10. He sleeps sprawled out on his stomach, he’s a fan of the starfish position. He snores ridiculously loud. Terzo swears he can hear him through the Abbey walls. He also likes to sleep with as little blanket coverage as possible, he feels like it suffocates him.

His nightstand has his nighttime reading book, snore strips, and a box of tissues. He also has his reading glasses, a nail file, and a lip balm.

Terzo

Terzo’s night starts at 7:30, depending on if confessional duty goes a while or gets a little saucy, if y’know what I mean. He also likes to spend a while in the dining hall speaking with Siblings, catching up with their days and making sure everyone is okay.

He immediately cleanses his face of his paints and then hops in the shower. He uses an unscented shampoo and conditioner, his body wash is lilac and jasmine scented. He also uses a jasmine scented body scrub at different times during the week. He takes showers in the morning and night, but does his most extensive routine at night.

When he gets out of the shower, he starts a bit of an elaborate and sort of skewed skincare routine. He uses a moisturizing toner first, but he refuses to use a moisturizer. He says it feels greasy on his skin, but will not try any skin care brands. He uses under eye cream as well. He uses a very expensive body lotion, and lotions himself up like a slug.

Once he gets out of the shower, he puts on his pajamas. He has multiple pairs of pajamas, but he usually wears one of his various old band t-shirts and some boxers. If he’s feeling saucy, he’ll wear nothing. When winter comes around he has a track suit that he likes to wear around his quarters. He tends to wear slippers, but they’re nothing too fancy, just some fuzzy purple ones.

His nighttime activities usually include some type of tv show, he’s not picky on what he watches. He usually picks reality cooking shows, cozying up in his bed with a cup of nighttime tea. He will occasionally watch a movie, but he prefers to have something he can come back to every night with a new episode reliably pulled up to watch. Before he goes to bed, he brushes his teeth gingerly with bubblegum flavored toothpaste. He refuses to use mint because it stings.

He usually goes to sleep around 10 o’clock, though he’s been known to stay up until 11 watching a good engaging documentary show. He sleeps with many blankets, including a weighted blanket. He likes an abundance of pillows, one between his legs and one behind his back, including one to latch onto when he sleeps. He sleeps on his side, but during the winter, he likes to sleep face up and breathing in the cold air from his open patio. He is prone to sleep talking, but none of it makes any sense. When they were kids, Secondo used to stay up late and try to get Terzo to have an actual conversation, but the sentences never stayed coherent.

On his nightstand, he has a lip balm, a box of tissues, some hand lotion, and a small pill bottle of Viagra hidden in his nightstand drawer.

Copia

Copia starts his night around 6:30 usually, but he can also stay in his office until around 8 some nights if the paperwork piles up, or it’s… tax season! In this case, we’ll do a normal night around six thirty.

He gets to his quarters and starts feeding and watering his rats. He makes sure they’re all well, giving them all time to inspect him and give them the required scratches and kisses. He will give them all of their treats that he gathered from the dining hall, usually either blueberries or sunflower seeds from the salad bar.

After his rendezvous with his little ratties, he hops in the shower. He uses a green tea scented shampoo and conditioner, and uses an unscented body wash. He prefers not to use intense scents because they can make his head hurt. Once he gets out of the shower, he moisturizes his face, making sure to get his neck since it can get dry.

Once he gets out of the shower, he gets into his pj’s, which are his standard red sweatpants and hoodie. He also wears lodge socks, since he doesn’t like to be barefoot. Besides him just preferring to have socks on, his room can get cold easily. He doesn't wear underwear under his sweats, he is free balling.

As for nighttime activities, he tends to relax by playing games on his Nintendo. If he has a headache or he’s feeling averse to loud noises, he’ll recline in bed and read a book. He loves ancient history or science fiction, but any topic can peak his interest. Nine times out of ten though, you’ll find him on his little couch driving Miss Daisy. Before he goes to bed, he brushes his teeth with mint toothpaste and uses an extremely strong minty mouthwash. He wants to be able to take a sip of ice water and feel his brain explode in coldness.

Copia tends to go to sleep around 9 on a normal night since he wakes up early to start his day. He sleeps curled up around a pillow, his back to the wall and a pillow between his thighs. He sleeps with a comforter and no top sheet. He does snore, but it’s nasally. This may sound uncomfortable to hear, but it’s very soft and wispy. He sleeps on his side more often than face up. Copia is prone to falling asleep on the couch, and occasionally, with one of his rats curled into the side of his neck. Copia isn’t a light sleeper, and his rats have no fear of their Papa rolling over onto them.

His nightstand has some hand lotion, a box of tissues, a glass of ice water, and his reading glasses. He may have some fruit snacks tucked away in the corner of the nightstand if he’s feeling a little snackish.

#the band ghost #ghost the band #ghost headcanons #papa emeritus I #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost headcanons #my writing

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suguslve · 2 months ago

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FORBIDDEN LOVE with LORENZO BERKSHIRE .ᐟ

♰ pairings. lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

♰ genre. fluff, romance

♰ word count. 557

♰ a/n. decided to share this blurb that came from a school project i made. still deciding whether or not to make it into a whole fic. enjoy reading and lmk your thoughts! ps i love enzo so much ya’ll i literally made this FOR ME.

The Devereux name came with both prestige and responsibility, the weight of the name demanding nothing but perfection in every possible aspect: perfect grades, perfect friends, and, most importantly, a perfect partner that she is destined to marry.

Y/N Devereux, the only daughter and future heir to the well-respected and well-known Devereux Family had always lived under the shadows of her parents’ expectations. Every aspect of her life had been controlled, and the constant pressure of perfection was slowly taking a toll on her.

This was why, every night after her parents had both gone to bed and the servants were busy tidying up, she would make her way to the nearby lake she loved. It was a place where she could briefly escape, run away from the eyes that were constantly watching her every move—She would then smoke a cigarette or two while being left alone with nothing but her thoughts and the rare freedom to just be. It wasn’t really about the smoking—truth be told, she actually hated smoking: hated the taste, the lingering scent of it on her fingers. But it was the one thing no one could dictate. It was her quiet act of defiance against this so-called life of hers.

Like tonight, after yet another unsuccessful first date her parents arranged with the Malfoy's first born son. As soon as the Malfoys’ bid goodbye, she ran straight to her room, laid down on her bed and picked up a boring book as she waited for her parents to fall asleep so she could sneak out into the lake she adored. When she finally heard the door to her parents’ room go shut along with their muffled voices filled with disdain about how much an embarrassment she was to the Malfoy family.

She made sure to lock her bedroom door before grabbing her cigarettes and coat as she made her way out through her bedroom window. She walked the familiar path that lead her straight to the lake. She was always by herself when she visited the lake, but to her surprise, she saw a figure sitting by the dock, both feet dipped in the water below with smoke lingering in the air. She was about to head out and leave when the figure suddenly spoke out.

"I know you're there, there's no need to leave." he said calmly, his attention still focused on the water below. She hesitated for a moment before deciding to calmly walk up to him and sit near him.

“The name's Lorenzo Berkshire, and you are?" the young man asked as he now turned his attention to Y/N.

"I'm Y/N Devereux, it's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Berkshire." she replied as she pulled out a cigarette from her coat pocket. Her fingers searched for her lighter before the realization struck her: her lighter had been left behind, forgotten in her bedroom drawer. “Crap.” she cursed softly. Lorenzo looked over at her and laughed lightly.

“Need a light there, Miss Devereux?” he teasingly asked before pulling out his own lighter. “C’mere.” he beckoned her over—she then slowly inched closer to him, the distance between them nearly gone, their breaths almost mingling with each other, the moment hanging heavy yet pleasant.

That night, as Lorenzo offered to light her cigarette, something else was lit up deep inside of her.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #hogwarts fanfiction #slytherin #slytherin boys x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x you #draco malfoy #lorenzo zurzolo #mattheo riddle #draco malfoy x reader #lorenzo zurzolo x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #sugu blurbs 🪽

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thatlotuscookie · 4 months ago

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I LOVE YOUR WORK!!!! can I request something mayhaps? can you do a Denki or Kiri x reader where their like super overhwlemed with school work and their there to help them calm down?? if you cant its so fine don't feel bad!! keep up your good work - 🌿

✧･ﾟ: a/n: i love the dynamic and denki and y/n in this one!! to all my anons and whoever's reading this i hope you take breaks and prioritize your health over everything else. i know this semester is probably difficult for everyone but keep pushing! you guys got this. lately ive been pretty stressed about school but this req made me feel better so thank you anon. please enjoy <3

✧ Title: ✧ Electric Comfort ✧ ✧ Characters: Denki Kaminari x Reader (Gender Neutral) ✧ Genre: Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light Romance, Slice of Life ✧ Rating: T ✧ Summary: The library is eerily quiet as you grapple with anxiety over upcoming exams. Just when the pressure feels overwhelming, Denki steps in, offering support. ✧ Content Warnings: Anxiety, anxiety triggers, emotional support, study session, school life, comfort, light romance (denki is crushing on you), panic attacks, self-doubt, peer pressure. ✧ WC: 1414 words // 8.1k chars

The library was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind. You had always been diligent with your studies, but the pressure of upcoming exams was beginning to take its toll. Stacks of textbooks surrounded you like an impenetrable fortress, each page filled with information that felt increasingly foreign. Your anxiety was palpable, and no matter how hard you tried to focus, your mind was racing a mile a minute.

Denki had been aware of your struggles for a while now. You’d confided in him during one of your study sessions about how overwhelmed you felt, but he hadn’t realized just how deep your panic ran until he walked into the library that afternoon.

“Hey, Y/N!” he called, his voice cheerful but gentle. “Mind if I join you?”

You barely looked up, too focused on the formulas dancing in front of your eyes. “Yeah, sure,” you muttered, feeling the tension knotting tighter in your stomach.

Denki slid into the seat across from you, his vibrant energy somehow soothing amidst the chaos of your thoughts. He glanced at the open textbooks and the scribbled notes on your paper, frowning slightly. “You look like you’re about to explode. Are you okay?”

You let out a shaky breath, attempting to keep your voice steady. “I’m fine,” you insisted, but the words felt hollow. “Just... a lot to do.”

Denki’s brows furrowed as he studied your face. He couldn’t shake the feeling of concern creeping in. He’d always thought you were amazing—smart, capable, and incredibly hardworking—but seeing you like this tugged at his heart. “You don’t look fine. You look—”

“I said I’m fine!” you snapped, the pressure mounting until you could hardly contain it. The books began to blur, and you felt the walls of the library closing in on you. Your heart raced, the panic flooding your chest.

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, pushing the textbooks away as your hands trembled. “I’ll never understand it all in time!”

Denki immediately leaned closer, his expression shifting to one of concern. “Hey, hey, look at me,” he said softly. “You’re going to be okay. Just breathe.” He reached out, gently placing a hand over yours, grounding you with his warmth.

In that moment, Denki felt a surge of determination to help you. He had always admired your strength and resilience, but seeing you like this—vulnerable and panicked—made him want to be your rock. “You’re stronger than you think, Y/N. We’ll figure this out together.”

Your eyes darted around the room, your breath quickening. “I just—what if I fail? What if I mess everything up? I can’t let anyone down, especially not myself.”

Denki squeezed your hand, his fingers wrapping around yours reassuringly. “Hey, you’re not going to fail. You’re smart, and you’ve worked hard. We’ll tackle this together. Just focus on me.”

You took a shuddering breath, finally meeting his gaze. There was a softness in his eyes that made you feel a little less alone. “I—I don’t know where to start.”

“Let’s take a break first,” Denki suggested, his voice calm but firm. “You need to step away for a moment. How about we grab a snack?”

You hesitated but reluctantly nodded. “Okay, but just a quick break.”

“Perfect!” he said, standing up and pulling you along with him. “You can’t study on an empty stomach anyway.”

As you walked out of the library together, the cool air hit your face, and for the first time that day, you felt a sense of calm. Denki chattered on about trivial things, his cheerful demeanor a stark contrast to the worry that had consumed you moments earlier. You couldn’t help but smile at his antics, feeling your tension ease just a bit.

Denki had always had a crush on you. The way you carried yourself, the passion you poured into everything you did—it captivated him. Even when you struggled, he admired your determination. He wanted nothing more than to be the one who could help lift the burden off your shoulders, to be someone you could rely on.

After grabbing some snacks from a nearby café, Denki led you to a bench outside, where you both munched on your food while basking in the warm sunlight. As you took a bite of your sandwich, you felt the heaviness in your chest lift even more.

“See? Doesn’t it feel good to take a break?” Denki asked between bites, a grin plastered on his face.

“Yeah, it really does,” you admitted, savoring the moment of peace. But just as you were beginning to relax, your phone buzzed in your pocket, and a message from a classmate caught your eye.

Your heart sank a little at the thought of the workload still waiting for you. You quickly typed back a response, letting them know you’d get back to them soon, but your anxiety flared again, feeling the pressure of expectations once more.

Denki noticed your change in demeanor, his expression shifting back to concern. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I just… I feel like I’m letting everyone down,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t handle this pressure.”

“Y/N, don’t think like that,” Denki replied firmly. “You’re not letting anyone down. Everyone has their struggles, and it’s okay to feel overwhelmed sometimes. You’re human.”

Feeling the warmth of his support, you found yourself nodding. “I guess I just feel like I need to do everything perfectly.”

Denki smirked. “There’s no such thing as perfect. You’re doing your best, and that’s what matters.”

His reassurance sparked something in you, and you took a deep breath, letting the cool air soothe your frayed nerves. “I guess I just need to focus on what I can control.”

“Exactly!” he encouraged, his eyes sparkling. “Now, how about we head back to the library and tackle that calculus together? I’m here for moral support and snacks!”

As you walked back, you felt lighter with each step. The combination of Denki’s optimism and his unwavering presence made the weight of your worries feel a little lighter, and you realized that with him by your side, you could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Once back in the library, Denki dove right into the calculus problems, his enthusiasm infectious. “Okay, let’s start with this one,” he said, pointing to the first problem on the page. “Remember how we did this last time?”

You nodded, your confidence beginning to build as you worked through the problem with him. Denki explained the steps in a way that felt approachable and fun, cracking jokes to lighten the mood whenever he sensed your tension creeping back in.

“See? You’ve got this!” Denki exclaimed as you solved the problem together. “You’re like a math wizard or something!”

You laughed, feeling a surge of pride. “I don’t know about that, but this is definitely helping.”

They continued working through problems, Denki’s energy never wavering as he switched between explaining concepts and encouraging you with each small victory. The way he would lean in closer whenever he showed you a solution made your heart race, but you pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the calculus.

After a while, however, you stumbled on a particularly challenging problem, your mind racing in circles. “I don’t get it,” you muttered, frustration bubbling to the surface. “Why does it have to be so complicated?”

“Okay, let’s break it down,” Denki said, his voice calm. He leaned over your paper, and you could feel his warmth radiating off of him as he traced the problem with his finger. “What’s the first step?”

You glanced at the equations, your mind swirling as you tried to process it all. “Um, I think… we need to isolate the variable?”

“Exactly!” he encouraged, his eyes lighting up. “Let’s start there. You’ve got this, I promise.”

As you worked through it together, you began to relax again, focusing on Denki’s explanations and the way he broke things down. Every time you’d grasp a concept, a rush of relief washed over you, and Denki’s proud smile only made that feeling stronger.

After a couple of intense problems, you could feel the weight of your panic lifting as your confidence grew. “I think I’m starting to understand this better,” you said, a hint of surprise in your voice.

“See? I told you you could do it!” Denki grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Now, let’s tackle one more before we take another break, okay? I know you can do this!”

You nodded eagerly, ready to push through. The two of you spent the next while solving problems, the sound of your laughter echoing in the otherwise quiet library. The stress of the day began to melt away as you focused on the work and Denki’s encouraging presence.

But as you were about to move on to the next chapter, you found your mind wandering again. “Denki, what if I still don’t do well on the test?” you asked, your voice tinged with anxiety. “What if all this doesn’t help?”

Denki paused, looking thoughtful for a moment before answering. “You know what? No matter how you do on the test, it doesn’t define who you are. You’re still the same amazing person, regardless of the results. Plus, you’re doing your best, and that’s all anyone can ask for.”

His words struck a chord deep within you, and you felt a warmth spreading through your chest. “Thanks, Denki. That means a lot.”

“Anytime,” he replied, a shy smile gracing his lips. “I’m always here for you, especially when it comes to tackling schoolwork. Just remember, you’re not alone in this.”

After a few more problems, you decided to take a break, feeling that familiar sense of calm returning. Denki reached for his phone and started scrolling through social media, occasionally glancing at you with that signature grin. “So, what do you want to do after we finish studying?” he asked, clearly not wanting to rush the moment.

“I guess I’d like to hang out, maybe watch a movie or something?” you suggested, feeling your cheeks warm at the thought.

“Sounds perfect! Just don’t be surprised if I fall asleep during the movie. I’ve had a long day,” he joked, winking at you.

You chuckled, the banter between you both easing your worries. As the study session continued, you found yourself smiling more often, the comforting presence of Denki making everything feel a little less daunting.

With each problem you conquered, your confidence blossomed further, and you realized that with Denki by your side, you could tackle anything that came your way.

42 notes · View notes

clairifys · 1 year ago

Text

Prolonged love - Joseph Liebgott x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sometimes the best things in life take a long time, and sometimes life throws you for a loop. It sure threw (Y/n) for a loop when grabbing German POWs in Hagenau turns into her having to babysit a young Dutch girl.

Tw: Swearing, death, reader being trilingual, mentions of war, mentions of concentration camps, mentions of abuse, killing, slightly dirty? not full on smut, reader is female, slight misogyny due to the time period, she/her pronouns

Word count: 6.5k

I do not own Band of Brothers, nor do I own any of the characters. I am not intending to be disrespectful towards any of the people on this show

The Dutch name is pronounced like (Tina-ka) Tineke, and the nickname Tine is pronounced as (Teeny)

I was born in Chicago. My mother was born in Groningen, Netherlands, and my father in Antwerp, Belgium. I was the oldest child, and after me, my parents had five others. Despite having six kids, we were all taught Dutch and German from a young age. The sole reason I was accepted into the military was because of me being trilingual, I’ll forever be grateful to my parents for teaching me their languages.

February 9, 1945

Easy Company was on its way to France. We were stationed in Haguenau, which had been taken by the Allies in December. Honestly speaking, I didn’t really know what to expect when we got there. I was sitting in the back of a truck, squished between Babe and Liebgott. Joe had become a close friend way back in Toccoa when he’d fallen running up Currahee, and I stopped and helped him up. We both had our 48-hour weekend passes revoked, but we made the most of it that weekend together. After that, we’d spend our weekend passes together and hang out.

I was leaning against Joe as I’d been almost the whole ride, his arm slung around my shoulders as I read a book that I had found when we invaded Foy. It seemed the Krauts enjoyed good literature as I was reading For Whom the Bell Tolls in German. I was a translator for Easy Company, being able to speak English, German and Dutch, I was a heavy asset to the team. It was a beautifully told story about the Civil War that had some romance aspects while also being brutal. I finished the book twice, and now I was reading it a third time.

“Jesus doll, I think I’ve seen you read that damn book about forty times now. How good can it be?” Joe said when he noticed my attention had strayed.

“Oh it’s a beautifully told story, Joe. Although, I don’t think you could read anything that didn’t have pictures.” I replied jokingly to him, looking up at him from where I was leaning against him. I could hear Babe and Malarkey laughing, and a young soldier, Jackson watching intently.

“How can you read that, (L/n)?” A quiet voice asked in front of me. It’d been from Jackson. He lied on his documents so that made him 20 right now while I, at 23, was considered young.

“I can speak and read German. Although my mother is a Dutch immigrant, my father was a Belgium immigrant.” I spoke honestly. Picking up languages was a bit of a gift for me. I’d always been good at remembering and learning languages, probably since I was taught three languages at once from a young age.

“(Y/n)! I’ve read that book! It’s so beautifully written.” A new voice spoke from the opening in the back of the truck, I quickly jolted from Joe’s shoulder, as he groaned from lack of contact, to see who the familiar voice belonged to.

“David Webster? Where the hell have you been?” I interrogated, while simultaneously giving him a toothy smile. He blushed slightly while asking Jackson for a hand to get up on the truck and suddenly Joe spoke up sharply,

“The hospital. Must’ve liked that hospital Webster, cause uh, we left Holland four months ago.” After saying that he gave Web a dismissive look while tightening his hold on my shoulders. Suddenly, I felt very awkward, and slightly bad for Web - the war was tough and it was understandable to be afraid, it just wasn’t fair that some men snuck out only to get killed or injured more severely than the first time. They started going back and forth, jabbing at Webster passively, although it didn’t seem to be because they didn’t like him, they were just tired and upset. I gave Web a smile before getting off the truck, following Joe close behind.

“Y’know, you didn’t have to be so mean to Web.” I said calmly, making sure to not seem mad at Joe as to not have him get defensive.

“I guess, but it’s bullshit that we had men come back just to get killed.” He said quickly. When he said that, I saw Lieutenant Lipton sluggishly walking towards a building. The poor man had a bad case of Pneumonia, so I ran over and put his arm under my shoulders to help him. As I did that, explosions rang over our head and fell a little farther than we were. He gave me a smile and I helped him into the building he was walking towards. It was pretty on the inside, Luz and Captain Speirs were in the room along with Webster walking in.

“Hey look who it is. Nice digs, huh, Lip? (Y/n)?” Luz said to me and Lipton as I helped Lipton situate himself on the couch.

“Yeah.” Lipton called back, unenthusiastically and coughed slightly after.

George came over with a blanket and put it on Lipton. He had a lit cigarette in his mouth, so I took it out and took a long drag from it.

“Hey what gives (Y/n). Just ‘cause you’re a pretty dame with a nice rack doesn’t mean you can steal my cigs.” He said while laughing, only partly joking. I gave him a look and replied,

“You’re just mad, this is all you get to see of my ‘nice’ rack.”

He laughed and replied with a ‘you bet’. As he said that, a new voice spoke up, mock confident.

“Ahem. Is this the company CP for Easy?” He asked, looking at me and Luz weirdly before I went to get Lip a cup of hot coffee.

From the kitchen, I could vaguely hear that he called himself Lieutenant Jones and that he was asking for Captain Speirs. I came out with a coffee for Lipton as Speirs was drilling him about going to the back to sack out and rest. I noticed Jones had stood up when Speirs walked in.

“Christ Captain, give him a break. He’s got Pneumonia!” I told Speirs as I handed Lipton his coffee and gave him a squeeze on his shoulder. Lipton thanked me with a small smile as the new guy looked at me with an expression I couldn’t decipher.

“Hello to you Ms. (L/n). If he doesn’t rest up though, that Pneumonia won’t go away.” He said pointedly at Lipton.

“I’m sorry, are you a field nurse? I didn’t think they let field nurses come this close to action.” Jones asked me, even though he wasn’t asking with any malicious intent, and it was all curiosity, I still got upset.

“Why d’ya think I’m a field nurse? I’m literally in uniform.” I deadpanned at him while giving him a little attitude for automatically assuming I’d be a field nurse just because I was a woman.

“Oh. I’m sorry, truly I was just curious. I didn't mean any offense, I just didn’t know they let women become paratroopers.” He said quickly, face turning slightly red.

“They don’t. (Y/n) here has some insane stamina, and she’s a helluva shot!” Webster spoke up for me, and I threw him a smile.

“Oh gee, Shifty’s got a better shot than I’d ever dream of having.” I replied, giving credit to Shifty, as he did have a better shot and he was just the sweetest man alive. At that, Winters walked in and told us he’d need fifteen of us on a patrol tonight to capture prisoners. When he said he’d need a translator, I instantly knew it’d be me or Joe as we were the only two in Second Platoon who could speak German. Webster could as well, but we didn’t know which Platoon he’d be in.

After Nixon and Winters left, Speirs began talking to Lipton about who should lead, and who he could take for the patrol. During this, Jones asked to be on the patrol, which Speirs answered quickly and easily with a no, that he hadn’t any experience.

“Lipton, how many prisoners do you think there’ll be?” Speirs asked the man in question.

“Honestly, sir, I’m not quite sure, anywhere between three to forty it seems.” He said in reply.

“(L/n).” Speirs called for me as I was sitting in a chair reading.

“Ya want me to be a translator, that it?” I asked, knowing that’s what he was about to ask me.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Alright.”

When Webster and Lieutenant Jones left for OP two, I decided to get going as well. I knew Liebgott would be there so that was a good enough reason for me.

“Web, I’m comin’ with. Joe’s probably there right now.” I said to David, although slightly talking to Jones as well, to let him know I’d be going to.

“Yeah, no problem. Say when you’re finished with that book, d’ya mind if I reread it?” He asked me as all three of us walked down the street.

“Awh hell Web, I’ve read this thing three times now, you can go ahead and read it now.” I said while throwing him the book, silently noting how quiet Lieutenant Jones was behind us. The two men were running around crouching behind a little garden wall as I stood up, not seeing why they were doing that. When I heard the door open, Sergeant Kiehn came out, greeting me and Web and telling us where OP two was at. Before anymore words could get exchanged, bombs and mortars started raining down on us and we started running and ducking to take cover. We sat against the wall of a building before a man shouted out that it was all clear. After that, we quickly got to the building where OP two was located. Once inside, I immediately went upstairs and sat down on Joe’s bunk and plopped my stuff down.

“Hey doll, where’d you run off to?” Joe asked while wrapping his arms around me as a way to annoy me.

“Went to help Lip, where’d you go?” I asked while laughing at him.

“Came here.” He replied while digging his face into my stomach and faking sleep. Web and Lieutenant Jones came up not too long after I had, and when Jones saw me and Liebgott he immediately stiffened and gave me and Joe a weird look.

“This spot taken?” Webster asked.

“Nah it’s all yours.” Joe said to him while turning his face away from my stomach, my hands went down to card through his hair and he took notice of Jones’ look.

“Fuck are you staring at?” Joe asked him while sitting up and giving him his own glare.

“I’m sorry?” The Lieutenant asked, offended.

“You got a starin’ problem? Why you lookin’ at me and (Y/n) like that?” He challenged him.

“Alright, alright. Quit fighting, we’ve got news.” Webster said, breaking up the fight.

“Dummer, zimperlicher Junge, der dich so ansieht. (Stupid, prissy boy, lookin at you like that)” Joe mumbled to me in German, only loud enough for only me to hear.

“Er ist einfach sauer, weil du mich berührst und nicht er. (He's just mad because you're touching me and not him)” I said back laughing.

Me and Joe got up to go talk to a bunch of men in the corner laughing and smoking, while Webster and Jones went to talk to Malark. When Joe heard them talk about the patrol he pulled Web aside and I went and sat next to Babe to listen to what he was going to say.

“What do you know about this patrol thing?” Joe asked Web quietly.

“Uh, nothing.” Web said while nodding his head.

“Oh, come on, Web. You gotta know something.” Ramirez interrogated.

“I don’t” He replied adamantly

` “Bullshit.”

Web and everyone went back and forth and soon more people sat down to listen. I knew Web wouldn’t give anything up, so I decided to. My head was starting to hurt and I wanted to lay down before the patrol knowing I’d be on it at 0100.

“Speirs is picking fifteen men, Jonesy boy wants to be one of ‘em.” I said while yawning. Joe looked down at me and said,

“I say let the kid go, he could use the experience.” He smiled then Ramirez perked up,

“And I bet they could find fourteen other replacements to help him out.” while smirking.

“Nope.” I said, popping the p. “Babe, McClung, Ramirez and I are going out there.” I said dismissively.

“(Y/n)!” Web hissed at me.

“What?” I asked, confused. Then proceeded with,

“Pssh, I’ll just say it was you who said it, Joe and Babe’ll back me up, won’t you boys.” I asked, smiling up at Joe then at Babe.

“Course we will, doll.” Joe replied and Babe grunted. Webster deadpanned me and sat down when Malarkey started telling us about the patrol.

When the phone rang, and the PX supplies came in, I was ecstatic. New shoes and a shower? Felt like late Christmas. On our way out, the Krauts started to bomb us. We ran down the stairs and I threw myself under a table with Joe. When we had made it outside, we heard there was a casualty, Bill Kiehn. He was a Toccoa man. It was upsetting and it was unfair that he’d gotten through Bastogne only to die like this. I hadn’t known him too well, but the fact that I’d been talking to him 30 minutes prior made me feel like throwing up. Instead of staying to watch, me and the rest of the second platoon went over to the showers to pick up our new ODs.

Arriving at the showers, we went to go pick up our new ODs, and anything else they’d dropped for us. Nixon was standing by the depot and was holding a box with my name on it. Being the only woman paratrooper here meant I’d need a different size uniform and boots. I thanked Nixon and grabbed the box, opening it. Inside there was a uniform my size, boots, and women’s sanitary needs, a new bra set, and a few new pairs of panties.

“Well ain’t you a lucky gal, getting new undergarments while we’re stuck with the same briefs.” A voice came from behind me. Getting ready to yell at whoever was looking over my shoulder, I turned and realized it was Joe.

“Aww, poor baby has to wear the same briefs.” I replied, feigning upset and then laughing when I saw his disgruntled expression.

Before I could run off to take a much needed shower, Malarkey called for us to let us know who’d be going on the patrol.

Heffron, McClung, Ramirez, me, Liebgott, Grant, Wynn, Jackson, Shifty and Webster. When we heard how many second platoon men were going, you could practically feel the rage flowing from us.

We’d all been pissed, wanting to complain but knowing it’d do us no good. Malarkey went off towards the showers and told us to as well. There were men standing at the entrance, undressing and some coming out wet. I didn’t want to undress, even if it was only down to my bra and panties. I’d been behind Joe when I took my first few layers of my tops off. Down to my black bra and army-issued pants was when Webster came up to talk to Joe, effectively, scaring the shit out of me.

“Jesus, Web, you came outta nowhere.” I said, holding my hand to my chest to calm down.

“Oops, sorry (Y/n).” He said while rubbing the back of his neck nervously. I’d noticed his face had turned a bright shade of red, but I thought it was because he was embarrassed that he’d scared me. A hand shot out to grab my arm and turn me around when I noticed it was Joe.

“What’s the matter?” I asked curiously.

“Do you not see everyone lookin’ at you like they’re starving men looking at their last meal?” He asked bewildered. Suddenly, I became hyper aware of most of the men's eyes on me, waiting for me to finish undressing. Before I could respond Joe spoke up again.

“Nevermind that, just finish and we can go in together.” Quickly I went to undo my belt, and I realized Joe was already down to his briefs, waiting on me. I felt bad to make him wait, but he didn’t have to if he didn’t want to. I took this time to really look at Joe. Sure he was cute, and I’d definitely thought about him like this before, but would he really want me? I tried not to let my hopes get up, and as I slipped my pants down my legs, I forced myself to look away from his bare chest.

Having a hot shower was probably the best thing I’d had in a long time. Quickly scrubbing my body and hair down and then rinsing off, I stepped outside in a towel and grabbed my new uniform, and new undergarments.

Joe had finished showering, so I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to a random building to change, and do my hair. When we got in, there was nobody there, probably all in the showers, so I took Joe to the first mirror I found in a bedroom and made him sit down. He had no obligations and I told him I’d be back after changing. Once I finished, I brought out my old undergarments and towel and hung them out to dry.

There was a vanity on the opposite side of a bed, with a little cushion seat, and some old, dusty hair products. I quickly got to work using them and braiding up my hair.

“Why’d you pull me away doll? Want me that bad huh?” He questioned while smirking at me and drawing a cigarette from his front pocket.

“Yeah, you wish. I wanted someone to talk to.” I joked back before replying honestly and looking at him through the mirror. I finished doing my last braid as Joe was telling me about one of his comics he found that he enjoyed. Standing up, I walked over to stand in front of him, looking down on him as he was sitting on the bed. He stopped talking and we made eye contact. He looked as handsome as ever sitting in his new ODs, with a fresh shower.

“Well don’t you look handsome in your new uniform with your hair combed.” I said to him in a sweet voice running my hands through his wet hair. His eyes darkened as his hands went to hold onto my hips.

“Jesus, (Y/n). We’ve been through hell and back and you’re still the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen.” He said confidently. I could feel my face getting hot, he’d said things like this before, but this time, it felt different. Stronger almost.

“Oh, Joe. You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever met.” I whispered to him, and he looked up at my lips, silently asking me. I slowly closed my eyes and let my hands fall from his hair down to his face, I slowly leaned down as he looked up and closed my eyes. As our lips were less than a centimeter apart, someone awkwardly coughed.

We sprung away from each other, embarrassed that we got caught. Looking at who it was, some random replacement apologized and said he left something in here and it was his room.

When he left, I started laughing and grabbed Joe by the arm to pull him up.

“Come on, I bet everyone is wondering where we went.”

“Goddammit Johnny, you’re breaking my heart.” Luz said.

“Come on, George, just give me, I don’t know, ten, fifteen bars?” Martin pressured him

“Juicy fruit, happy?”

Johnny and Cobb had been pestering George to give them Hershey bars. I knew there wasn’t enough, and that it wasn’t fair so I just stayed quiet the whole time. Cobb began badgering George again and when George went to defend himself, a whole group of men walked in.

“Whoa, Hershey bars!” Joe exclaimed, coming up behind me to rest his hands on my shoulders from where I was sitting in front of the table of candy and treats.

“Jesus Christ.” Poor George just couldn’t catch a break.

“Wait your turn, Liebgott.” Cobb said, pissing me off. I never really liked Cobb and he didn’t like me.

“Yeah, who they for?” Liebgott asked George.

“Not you, Lieb.”

“Oh come on George, one bar!” Joe pestered, wanting to get that bar.

“Y’know who they’re for? People who don’t interrogate me. Here, (Y/n), have a bar!” George replied while looking Joe in the eye.

“Oh George! Thank you!” I exclaimed excitedly. I hadn’t known the last time I’d gotten chocolate.

“Christ, you’re only giving it to her because she’s a woman and you wanna get on her good side in case the opportunity arises to fuck her!” Cobb said angrily as I turned around, glaring, ready to hit him.

“That sounds more like something you’d do, knowing you couldn’t get a woman to sleep with you willingly if your life depended on it!” I yelled back at him which caused him to call me a slur of colorful words. After that, Joe yelled at him and I ignored him.

“Hey big mouth! Give Lieb a Hershey bar, huh?” Perconte asked.

When I heard his voice, I jumped up, running up to him to give him a hug.

“Perco! Your back!” I exclaimed as he hugged me back.

“You gotta be shittin’ me! Look who it is!” George laughed and said.

“How ya feeling?” Joe then asked him, smiling.

“As long as you keep your hands off my ass, I’ll be fine.” Perconte replied, laughing.

“Have a Hershey’s!” Luz threw one at Perconte.

“Hey he gets a fuckin Hershey bar?” Joe asked, offended as I came to sit down next to him, opening up my Hershey’s.

“Ask ya girlfriend to french ya when she’s done eating it.” George joked as I took a bite into my bar and broke it in half.

“I’ll do you one better, Joe.” I said after I swallowed and handed him the half I didn’t bite into. He took it with thanks.

“That’s not one better, he’d rather you kiss him (L/n)!” Luz said while laughing right after. Joe pushed him backwards while also laughing

At 1700, there was a briefing about the house we’d be going into. I was next to Shifty, talking with him. Every now and again me and Joe would make eye contact, until the other looked away. Winters, and Martin walked in which caused Joe to look away first. Winters explained Johnny would be going in Malarkey's place, and that made everyone slightly more comfortable. I was on Johnny’s team, along with Webster. I walked out and Liebgott was waiting for me, he left with me and as we passed Speirs, he told Joe he didn’t have to go on the patrol.

We’d been all stationed in the basement for now before the patrol. Having to eat slop and we couldn’t have our helmets. I sat with Shifty as I ate.

“Youse gonna be out there with a gun?” Shifty asked me in a sweet voice, I knew what he was talking about. He was asking if I’d be helping shoot.

“Nah, well obviously I’ll have a gun, but I’m mainly a translator.” I smiled at him and he smiled back.

“I don’ understand why they never let you shoot with me. You’re a helluva sniper.” Shifty told me, making me giggle at him.

“Oh Shift, you know how to make a woman feel good about herself.” I replied, happy that I got to talk to him before the patrol. He always knew how to make someone happy, even during nerve-wracking times.

At 0100, we were getting into those rubber boats, and setting sail on a short trip across the river. Before the fourth boat could even get far, it flipped and we were down three men. I wasn’t too nervous, knowing that I’d been through worse. When we got to the other side, Martin had someone cut the fence and me and Web, being translators, meant that we had to be up front in case we found any Germans.

So far, we’d gotten up to the steps of the house we’d need to get prisoners from. Johnny had shot into the window, and Jackson went up to throw his grenade, except, instead of waiting for it to finish detonating, Jackson didn’t stop and immediately went into the house, getting hit straight in the face with his grenade. As we ran in, me and Web were yelling at the men in German. We started to split the three men up when I heard a small cry in the corner of the room. I stopped to turn to go towards the sound.

“(L/n)! What are you doing?” Johnny yelled at me.

“Sir! There’s a child!” I shouted, confused. When I got down eye level with the little girl, I noticed she was only in a thin, white nightgown, with no shoes. She looked malnourished, hurt and mostly scared.

“Alsjeblieft! Alsjeblieft! (Please! Please!)” The little girl cried in Dutch, shrinking away from me when I went to get her.

“Het is goed schat! Rustig maar, ik ben hier om te helpen! (Its okay dear! Relax, I'm here to help!)” I replied to her in Dutch. What had a little Dutch girl been doing here? I didn’t have time to continue to calm the little girl before Johnny started yelling about getting on the boats and leaving.

“Klein meisje, ik ga je ophalen. (Little girl, I'm going to pick you up.)” I warned her before grabbing her bridal style and running with her out of the house and covering her eyes to make sure she didn’t see what was happening around her with Jackson. Pushing everyone into the boats, the girl I was holding onto kept crying and crying. The poor little girl couldn’t have been more than four years old.

“Het is goed schat. Het is goed schat. (It’s alright baby. It’s alright baby.)” I kept repeating to the small frightened girl. When Webster jumped into the boat behind me, we started going back to our side. He had his head ducked, as the Krauts kept shooting at the back boat. He had his arms around me when he realized I was shielding a child.

“(Y/n)! What the hell? Why do you have a child?” He yelled out over the gun fire.

“I don’t know! She was in the corner, she’s Dutch!” I replied, still confused as to how she got here and why she wasn’t in the Netherlands. We all ran downstairs, I was still holding onto the little girl, she had come from the Germans territory so I had to stay with her by the other prisoners. Nobody had come up to me about the girl yet so I took this as a time to try to get information so she wasn’t bombarded when adrenaline wore off.

“Wat is je naam? (What’s your name?)” I asked her calmly. She looked up at me with teary dark blue eyes. “Tineke.” She responded in a quiet voice. I was sitting on the floor and I held her so she was only facing me. I could feel someone watching me, but for now I didn’t care.

“Mooie naam! De mijne is (Y/n)! (Beautiful name! Mine is (Y/n)!)” I replied while smiling at her and gently carding my hand through her dark brown strands. Her skin was deathly pale and it was obvious she hadn’t drank or eaten anything in a long time. I gave her my canteen and she took it wearily. She wouldn’t drink it because she was scared of what could be in it. I took it back and took a small sip and gave it back. When she noticed I was okay, she started drinking out of it rapidly.

When she finished drinking, I asked her more questions.

“Spreek je Engels? (Can you speak English?)” I asked her. “Little bit.” She replied hesitantly.

“Very good, mijn liefje! (My love!)” She seemed to smile a little at the name I’d given her.

“Where is your mommy?” I asked slowly. She started to get upset at the mention of her mother but she replied anyway.

“She die. The Duits kill her. I am Joods. They take her and kill my mammie in de camps for Jodens. Then they keep me. (The Germans kill her. I am Jewish. My mommy. Camps for Jews.)” She told me in a somber tone. When she couldn’t think of the right word, she’d just say it in Dutch. I thought about bringing her to Joe later knowing he was Jewish, she might feel comfortable with him.

“You’re safe now, liefje.” I told her while bringing her close to my chest. She ended up falling asleep not even ten minutes later. It gave me time to think about what she had said. She never mentioned a last name which made me believe she didn’t know it. The camp she was talking about was also weird. What did she mean by a camp for Jewish people?

Jackson had died. That boy who’d just turned twenty, had died. He had his whole life ahead and he died in a stupid war. I hadn’t even known him too well, but he just died in front of me, in front of everyone. I was thankful Tineke was asleep as she’d already seen enough.

A day had passed since the patrol. The Germans were taken away and Tineke wouldn’t talk to anyone except me, and occasionally Joe. When Winters had found out about her, he had to ask her questions. I had come with because she couldn’t speak English very well and she refused to go anywhere if I wasn’t with her. The poor girl had been traumatized and it seemed like she’d been like that for a while.

While asking her questions, we found out her family was Jewish, and when the Germans found out, they took her and her family out of their homes to be sent to a camp. She didn’t know much, just that her mother and her got away and when they were found by the two Germans, her mother tried to fight against them resulting in her getting shot. Tineke was then taken as a hostage.

Doc Roe came in to see how she was and it turned out she had been malnourished, and if I hadn’t found her when I did she would’ve been dead. Later that day I took her to the building where the second platoon was located to introduce her.

I walked in and held onto Tine and went upstairs.

“Guys, this is Tineke. She was found in the house with the other POWs and she’s Dutch. She can speak some English, but don’t bombard her.” I spoke when I went upstairs and saw everyone. They all looked at us, and one by one I walked around with her and had her say hi to everyone. When I got to the last person, Joe, I sat down on the bunk with him and had her greet him.

“Tine, why don’t you tell Joe what you are.” I reminded her. I had told her to tell him she was Jewish before we went upstairs.

“Jewish.” Was all she said, nervous and not knowing too much English, she turned her face away into my chest. I rubbed my hand down her knotted, dirty hair realizing she needed a bath.

“Ain’t that cool! I’m Jewish too!” Joe responded in a sweet voice, smiling down at her when she slightly turned her head towards him. Before any more words could get exchanged, Webster came in to break the news that we were to go on another patrol that night and there would be another meeting at 1800. It was currently 1530 so I decided to bring Tineke down to the kitchen sink where I could give her a makeshift bath. I remembered how my mom would do that for me and my siblings when we were little and there were no baths in any of the houses.

I grabbed some soap and put it in her hair while I’d tell her stories to pass the time.

“A long time ago, there were two moons. It was said one of them, named houden got too close to the sun, and out came thousands of dragons.” I told her a story my mother used to tell me all the time.

“Houden? To hold?” She asked as I began rinsing out her hair.

“That’s right. That’s how dragons were born.” I told her. As I finished saying that, another voice piped up from behind me.

“I didn’t know dragons were born from the moon.” Joe came up behind me and waved at Tineke, who brought her hand up slightly.

“That’s because I never told you that.” I said while smiling up at him. He moved to have his arms around my waist and laid his head on my shoulder. I finished rinsing Tine off then I grabbed a towel and wrapped her in it. Nixon had got clothes small enough to fit her from one of his sources. It was a small, black dress with a dark brown fluffy shawl. She also had stockings and tiny boots. When I finished dressing her, I braided up her hair and put on a hat.

At 1800 we all went down to the basement to await Winter’s meeting he called.

“Whatcha lookin’ at Webster.” A drunk Cobb said. I put one of my hands on Web’s shoulder, holding Tineke to my chest as she slept on me, and he turned to give me a smile.

“That’s what I thought, college boy.” Cobb said while swaying lightly on his feet. I gave Cobb a glare and squeezed the hand I had on Web’s shoulder.

“Are you drunk, trooper?” Lieutenant Jones asked him, angrily.

“Leave me alone.” Cobb replied, looking away.

“Answer the question.” Jones said firmly.

“Yes, sir, I am drunk, sir.” Cobb said sassily before adding, “Drunk, and sick and tired of fucking patrols. Taking orders-”

“Hey Cobb, shut up. It’s boring, okay.” Martin cut him off before he could finish what he was saying.

“Taking his side, Johnny?” “Yeah, I am.”

After that shit show I went and sat by Joe, wanting to make sure I wouldn’t be in Cobb’s line of fire in case he decided to throw something.

Winters came in to not only tell us that we didn’t have to go on that patrol, but that we’d also be off the line tomorrow. After he left, everyone started talking, which woke up Tine, who had no idea what was going on, but was happy because everyone else was.

When I went upstairs, Winters was waiting for me.

“Hey, (Y/n).” He said, a bittersweet tone to his voice.

“Hello, sir. Anything I can help you with?” I asked, slightly nervous that he had waited for me.

“It turns out, we found one of Tineke’s family members. Her aunt and uncle. They’re set to come tonight.” He said quietly.

“Oh. Well that’s great!” I smiled slightly, feeling my heart get heavy at the fact that the young girl would be leaving.

“Tine, you hear that? Your aunt and uncle are coming to pick you up.” I told her, looking down at her. She perked up, looking between me and Winters and then she smiled. She smiled bigger than I’d ever seen her smile.

When her aunt and uncle arrived at 2100, Tineke ran up to them and they picked her up. They repeatedly thanked me and Winters and before they left, I gave Tineke a hug and kiss and turned around to walk away. As I did that, I noticed Joe was standing there waiting for me, smiling sweetly at me. We walked away, arm in arm to go back to the house together. The next day, we’d all been sent to the trucks to move to our new location. I was sitting next to Joe, my head on his shoulder as I slept.

We had made it to Germany. The Krauts surrendered and Hitler shot himself. We were finally able to stay in an actual house, with actual baths and actual beds. To us, life couldn’t get any better.

Me and Joe had been sharing a house with Perco and Luz. Frank and George went out to get eggs from a farmhouse a few blocks down so right now it was just me and Joe.

“You excited, doll?” He asked me from the table. I put down one of the wet dishes I was washing, and replied,

“For what Lieb?” “We got through the hard part!” Oh. I hadn’t really thought about that yet.

“Well, yeah, I guess. I’m just scared that I’ll have to go to the Pacific if this war finishes soon.” I replied genuinely.

“Oh don’t worry about that right now.” He said while standing up and coming behind me. I put down the last dish and pulled off the wet, yellow gloves I had on to wash the dishes in.

“Y’know, Perco and Luz just left.”

“I know Liebgott, I’ve got eyes.” I replied, smiling up at him while turning around to face him. He put his hands on the sink behind me and smiled down on me.

“Well if your eyes are any good, then you’ll be able to see how much of a hold ya got on me.” He spoke before closing the distance between us and closing the gap.

I immediately closed my eyes and kissed him back. We slowly pulled apart, and without another word he slammed his mouth into mine. This time, he was much more passionate. His hands wandered down to my waist, and mine went up to his neck and hair. I gasped as he bit my bottom lip, and he snuck his tongue into my mouth. I kissed him back with as much fervor as I could, slightly pulling on his hair without realizing. He moaned into my mouth and the vibrations caused heat to pool in my stomach.

His hands started to roam down my body, causing me to moan as well. He pulled me flush against him and then pulled me up the stairs into one of the rooms I was occupying. I gently sat down on the bed and his fingers went to my uniform top, unbuttoning my shirt.

Perconte and Luz were walking down the trail to the house they were sharing with (Y/n) and Joe, they had eggs to cook up for everyone. When they got inside, they expected to see (Y/n) and Joe downstairs, waiting for them like they had been before.

“Hey, where’d they go-”

“D’you hear that?” George cut Frank off when he heard what sounded like muffled banging from upstairs. The two men immediately smirked at each other, and Luz ran upstairs.

They stopped outside of the door getting ready to knock, when they heard moaning from the other side.

Before Frank could hold George back, he knocked on the door yelling,

“You two better hurry up before me and Perco eat all the eggs!” It was quiet for a moment before Joe shouted out towards the two men,

“Go ahead! I’m eating something way better!”

IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG! If I missed any TWs lmk and I'll add them!

#bob #band of brothers #ronald speirs #dick winters #ron speirs #eugene roe #joseph liebgott #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott x reader #joe liebgott x reader #band of brothers x reader

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multi-fandom-imagine · 9 months ago

Text

➤It is you || Rolan ||

A/n: Just a small drabble I've been thinking about for Rolan.*implied smut*

Takes place after the game

It was nice to be back in the very city you saved,plus spending so much time in Avernus with Wyll and Karlach was starting to take it's toll on you so you decided to part ways from the budding romance blooming between the two deciding to take some time to live a quiet life. You did your best to catch up with your former companions and exploring the city since you could actually enjoy it with out something happened but their was one place that was constantly on your mind, the one place that you wanted to visit was Sorcerous Sundries, the very place the held the very man that you had feelings for though you hated it took you this long to realize it.

Following the familiar path and through the very familiar portal you spotted the very Tiefling you were looking for. "You finally got a desk?"

Rolan, didn't notice you at first, the man was too absorbed in the old book he was reading, ond hand rubbing his temple as he concentrated on the paperwork that covered nearly every inch of his desk though it was your voice the broke his concentration as he finally looked up at you.

His eyes flashed with recognition, a flicker of amusement before it quickly turned into a scowl, something you were very familiar with seeing. "Oh... it's you again."voice was flat, still holding that arrogant tone. "What have I done to be honored with the presence of the Hero of Baldur's Gate? Tire of Avernus already."

An airy laugh escaped your lips as you tilted your head to the side. Still smiling you moved to sit on the edge of his desk. You did miss this, miss the banter that you two would often share back and forth.

"That's it? That's all the greeting I get? No hug? No! Oh how I missed you!."

The tiefling scoffed and rolled his eyes as you sat on his desk, causing papers to flutter around. He set aside the book then looked at you. As a smirk formed on his lips as he leant back in his seat. "Well, well, look who finally decided to grace me with their presence! Though I’ll have you know, that I am a very busy man and don’t have time for your whimsical greetings." His expression turned to a pout “But I suppose the feeling is mutual, especially after you saved my life more times than I care to count..."

You barked out a laugh, shaking your head for a moment. You were happy that he was still himself,you weren't quite sure what you would do if the man had changed.

"You look good Rolan....happier now."

The tiefling's gaze lingered on you, his eyes traced the outline of your figure, the soft curves that had filled out.But despite these changes, there was something captivating about you. There always had been.

A smile tugged at the corner of Rolan's lips. "Happier?" He repeated, his voice soft, almost a whisper. He leaned forward, resting his hands on his desk "How do you know my happiness is not an act?"

Letting out a scoff, you still had a smile on your lips as you lent into closer to the man, your eyes sparkling. "You have a twinkle in your eye... that can't be an act Rolan."

It was nice seeing him like this, happier. He and his siblings went through so much."But if it is then maybe you should think about switching careers."

A soft chuckle escaped Rolan’s lips as the corners of his mouth formed into a small smile. He reached out and gently traced his warm fingertips across your cheek. "Ah, I knew you would see right through me, my clever friend. My smile is real, I can assure you."

His fingers lingered on your skin for a moment before he gently retracted his hand. You could faintly see a hint of rosiness on the tiefling's cheeks "You are right though, I am happier now that the Sword Coast is no longer in danger of extinction."

Letting your eyes slip closed, you did your best to ignore the shiver running down your spine from how good it felt from when he touched you. You were embarrassed by how much you hated from when he pulled away.

You enjoyed how warm his touch felt on your skin and you did your best to try not to imagine those fingers gliding else were across your body.

"Thats good, you and your siblings deserve it, after all that has happened."

Rolan felt the shift in you, the way your body responded to his touch. He saw your eyes flutter shut, the shiver that ran down your spine, the subtle hints that you did not want him to pull away. It was all too familiar to the tiefling, a feeling he had tried so hard to ignore.

His golden eyes widened slightly before a hint of mischievousness lit up his visage and played upon his lips. "Is that a hint of desire I see before me? Or am I merely imagining things?" He leaned forward, his voice a whisper of a tease.

You sucked in a breath as your cheeks dusted with pink. "I haven't the foggiest idea on what you're talking about." You muttered, a small pout on your lips.

You couldn't believe that you were caught, you were usually so good at hiding yourself

His smirk widened as he observed your flushed cheeks, that beautiful hue of pink that spread across them. Rolan reached out and brushed his fingers against your cheek, feeling the heat radiating from them.

“Oh, don’t give me that innocent look." The tiefling chuckled, leaning in closer. “I've seen the way you look at me." His voice lowered to a seductive purr as his thumb traced the contour of your lips. “I’ve felt the way your body quivers under my touch…”

Letting your eyes slip closed again, a breathy sigh left your lips as you tried to not arch into his touch though you gave him a crooked smile as another small jolt of pleasure hit you from his voice alone.

"And do you feel the same way Rolan?"

A low chuckle reverberated in Rolan's chest, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. He moved even closer, closing the distance between them, his golden eyes gleaming with a fiery intensity, a mixture of passion and anticipation.

"Do I feel the same way?" He repeated, his voice laced with desire. "You have no idea how much I've longed to touch you…taste you...devour you completely."

Shifting your spot on the desk, you could feel your heart hammering in your chest. You didn't know how much you longed to hear those words spill from his lips.

"Well what's stopping you Rolan?"

Rolan's eyes darkened with desire as he took in your words. Lust. Affection. He needed you.

"Absolutely nothing."

With a swift and fluid motion, Rolan stood up from his seat, his hands grasping your hips and pulling you closer. He pulled you against his body, his slender frame pressing against yours.

"Gods, you don't know how hard it's been, not being able to touch you this entire time." His lips sought yours, capturing them in a hungry kiss.

Melting into the kiss, you let your eyes slip closed. Your fingers clutching his cloak tightly, you wanted this too, for so long, you didn't want it to end. Your body and mind were craving more, more of him, more of this.

Rolan's tongue danced and tangled with yours, his touch possessive yet gentle. His hands roamed your body, caressing, exploring every contour and curve, desperate to feel more of you.

He deepened the kiss, tilting your head back slightly to delve deeper, to claim you completely. His slender frame pressed further against you, pinning you to the table as his hips grinded gently against yours. A low groan escaped from deep within his throat.

You felt a moan escape your lips as you pressed more into him. Your hips grinding back as your nails dug deep into his shoulders. Your body felt hot, it tingled with desire, desperate as you rubbed yourself into him craving more.

Rolan growled low in his throat as you rocked your hips against his, the friction driving his body wild with desire. His hands grasped your thighs, gripping the supple flesh before slowly sliding up to your rear, cupping your backside.

The tiefling broke from the kiss and pressed his face into your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. His lips claimed your flesh, showering your collarbone with hungry kisses and love bites.

Arching your neck out, you let your hands drift to his back as your legs wrapped around his hips instinctively rutting into him. Your heart was pounding wildly in your chest, his name spilling from your lips.

A low groan rumbled in Rolan's chest as your legs wrapped around him, trapping him in place. His hips rocked against you, matching your rhythm. The friction sent a wave of pleasure through his body, intensifying his desires.

He pressed his lips to the crook of your neck, his tongue teasing the sensitive skin there. His breath came in hot puffs against your skin as he whispered your name, his voice hoarse with need. "... Gods, you drive me mad, my love."

Doing your best to catch your breath, you looked up at him with wide eyes. Lips swollen as you placed a kiss against his jaw nipping at the skin.

"Please take me Rolan, I need you."

Rolan's breath hitched at the sound of your desperate plea. A low growl rumbled deep in his throat as he tightened his grip on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

"With pleasure, my dear." His voice was a whisper in your ear, laden with a heady mix of desire and need. The tiefling knocked the rest of his papers off his desk as he pushed you down on to the desk. "I can not wait for you to shout my name, be as loud as you want my dear...know one will hear you." He whispered against your neck.

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desi2go · 8 months ago

Text

Flowers from the prince (1)

part 2 of Flowers from the prince here

pairing: prince Seungmin x guard reader

warnings: fluff, forbidden romance

summary: After working as a soldier at the border, you were finally transferred to the palace. You should protect the prince from everything that could be a harm...

A new task. That's what your father told you. You would finally leave your current position and be transferred. And not just anywhere, no, you will be a guard at the palace.

Your father was the head of the king's guards. He was in charge of all the soldiers and guard in the entire country. He himself selects the soldiers who will protect the royal family, whether as castle guards or as their personal lifeguards. Since you were young, you wanted to make your father proud and be one of the best soldiers.

You were all the more happier when the message was brought to you that you will be the personal lifeguard of the prince now.

When you arrived at the castle, your father greeted you. Since your departure two years ago, you didn't had the chance to meet him. He looked older than you had in mind, his job definitely taking a toll on him.

He lead you to the throne hall where you would meet the royal family. Before you entered, you took a deep breath. Your father opened the door, letting you in the big hall. The king and the queen sat on their throne, standing up when you arrived in front of them.

"Miss Y/n. Welcome in the palace" the queen said with a sincere smile. You bowed respectfully.

"I'm honoured, your grace"

"Your father spoke very highly of you. And your reports were excellent so that I can say that you are particularly suitable for this task" the king added.

"Thank you, your grace" you answered, clearly content that they thought so high of you. Another person entered the hall through the big wooden doors. You slightly turned to get a better look of the person. You knew him. How could you not? He was the prince. The prince you should protect from now on.

"Miss y/n. This is my son. You'll be his personal lifeguard from now on. I expect you to be very sharp-eyed."

"Of course, your grace." You turned to prince Seungmin and bowed.

"Nice to meet you, prince" you added but you didn't even get a reply. He just rolled his eyes annoyed. He definitely hated the thought of a new lifeguard but you couldn't care less. Now, it was your job and you wouldn't disappoint the royal family.

You followed the prince like a shadow, always ten metres behind him. He was clearly distressed that you would accompany him from now on nearly 24/7. As well as he could, he tried to ignore you.

He sighed and turned to you abruptly.

"Why don't you stop following me like a dog? I'm capable of defending myself" he snarled, a hard look on his face.

"Well, as long as the king and the queen don't tell me otherwise, I'll be doing my job, your grace" you said in an extra friendly tone.

He turned around again and you followed him into his study room. It was a big room filled with books, a huge wooden desk where all sorts of papers were spread out, and two armchairs that stood in front of the window.

You stopped next to the door so that you had the entrance and the window in view. You stood there over two hours, watching the prince work while you crossed the arms behind your back and observed the environment. Usually, a lifeguard wouldn't follow a person everywhere but your father had told you that Seungmin liked to run away into the forest or into the town right behind the castle.

And as a member of the royal family that could be extremely dangerous. Most of the people liked the royals but as always, there was a small amount that was up to no good and would be content to catch the prince so easily. They could use him as a leverage.

When the night came, another lifeguard took over so that you could catch some sleep. You stepped into your little room that from now on will be your bedroom. Exhausted, you slipped out of your armour and placed your sword onto the small dresser. The room was barely decorated. Not that you cared. You won't spend much time here, just sleeping before and after your shift. It didn't take much time before the sleep took over. Even though you mostly stayed on one place, you still were sharp-eyed and always observed your environment.

You started your next shift in the morning after a quick meal with some other soldiers, including your father. It was great to work together with him after years apart. But he wasn't just your father, no, he was the head of the guards and that's why he always expected the best, especially from you.

Prince Seungmin was still in his chamber but shortly after your arrival, he came out, wearing plain black trousers and a black shirt with a plain armour.

"Good morning, your grace" you greeted him, getting in line behind him. He just grumbled a response. He'll see, you'll definitely crack his grumpy behaviour even if it took some time.

You rested one hand on your sword as you both walked out of the palace to the training ground where most of the castle soldiers trained. At this time, just some persons were practicing. The prince fetched a trainings sword out of the old armoury. He stopped in front of you and scrutinised you with a mocking smile.

"Do you really think you have what it takes to protect me?"

You, who was already used to his sharp tongue, bowed your head respectfully.

"Yes, your highness. I have proven my skills many times" The prince laughed, a patronising sound that echoed across the square.

"Then let's see how good you really are. Do you dare to compete against me? Or are you afraid you might lose in front of the other soldiers?"

You took a step forward, drew your sword and assumed a battle-ready stance. Your eyes sparkled with determination.

"I fear nothing, Your Highness. If you wish, I will fight you." Seungmin nodded and raised his sword. The other soldiers stepped back to make way.

"Very well. Show me what you can do." The fight began with an aggressive attack from the prince. His movements were powerful, but also impetuous. You, on the other hand, remained calm and focussed, skilfully dodging his blows and counterattacking with precision, just like you had learned over a million times in your training.

The spectators' respect for you grew with every blow you fended off since they have never seen you fight before. The prince became increasingly frustrated and stepped up his attacks, but you remained unimpressed and after several minutes of intense fighting, you managed to disarm the prince.

His sword flew out of his hand and landed on the ground with a loud clang. You pointed the tip of your sword at his chest, but stopped before you could hurt him.

"It seems you have lost, Your Highness," you said calmly, a smirk decorating your face. That's what he deserves after underestimating you. The prince, breathing heavily and visibly surprised, stared at the sword pointed at him.

"You had a lucky strike. That's all" he defended, grabbing his sword again from the ground. You retracted your own and placed it back into the scabbard safely.

"Of course, if you say so" you responded with a teasing smirk. You fought again and again. Every time, you were the one that quickly has gained the upper hand and won. He definitely wasn't a beginner and he knew how to wield a sword but he didn't has a chance against someone with lots of experience.

It was cute how frustrated and angry he got when his strike didn't succeed. After three more rounds, he was apparently finished with training. With a small smirk, you followed him back into the castle. You already liked your new job here, especially when you could get the prince on the edge like that.

♚✪♔

When the prince ate lunch, you quickly grabbed something for yourself in the kitchen and accompanied your father with some other soldiers. All in all, it was entertaining to listen to some strange stories that happend here, especially when the prince and the princess were involved. You heard that Seungmin's older sister and he were free spirits and kept all the staffs on their toes. After that little break, you continued with your shift that went good and without much trouble. Seungmin worked for a long time in his study room.

The next morning continued like this until the early afternoon. After being stuck in the study room for the first half day, he wanted to bath. That's why you stood outside, waiting that the prince was finished. You heard a small crack and shuffling that sounded strange. You knew what he was doing, your father has told you how he could leave the palace. And apparently, he chose the way through the window this time.

You smirked and left your place, running through the hallways, using some old passages. Fortunately, your father gave you the structure of the castle with all the secret paths and shortcuts. When he climbed out of the window, he just had one way to go. Due to the shortcuts, you will be there before him.

While the prince hurried through the forest, you skilfully took shortcuts. You crept through hidden paths and shadowy nooks and crannies, your footsteps as silent as a cat. You knew where he was going, and you were determined to intercept him there. Just before the prince reached the city limits, you stepped out of the shadows. He stopped abruptly, his eyes widening in surprise. You stood in front of him, a big teasing smirk on your lips.

"Do you really think you can trick me, your grace?" You said calmly, leaving the prince speechless. Never before had anyone caught him so close to the city.

"How did you do that?" he asked, his voice betraying a mixture of anger and admiration.

"I know your ways, Prince," she replied. "And I'm here to make sure you stay safe. By the way, your excursions really aren't that difficult to see through. Perhaps you should try a little harder next time"

The prince, proud and confident as he was, couldn't hide his fascination. No one had ever put him in his place like this before. Despite his frustration, he felt a deep respect for the woman who had outwitted him.

"You're really good," he admitted, "but that doesn't mean I won't try again." You just nodded and smiled.

"Oh, I expect you to. I'm having far too much fun catching you. I'll always be here to catch you." The prince felt a pang of annoyance, but also deep respect for the woman who had outwitted him.

"We'll see," he said, "maybe I'll be quicker next time."

"Maybe," you replied, shrugging your shoulders. "But I'll always be here to stay one step ahead of you."

He rolled his eyes and let you take him back to the castle. You knew that this was definitely not the last time, you'll need to catch him.

And you were right, he tried it the next time two days later. Just like last time, you stopped him with a smirk, leaning against a tree and one hand playing with your sword. He huffed in annoyance.

"Why do you want to go there so bad?" You asked him.

"None of your business" he snarled.

You laughed. "It is. I'm the one who will catch you every time after all."

You push yourself off the tree. Instead of going back to the castle, you followed the way to the town.

"What are you doing? The castle is this way!" He exclaimed, clearly confused.

You turned your head and smiled.

"Since you want to go to the town so bad, I'm accompanying you. This way I can defend you" His confused expressions changed to surprise and you could see appreciation in his eyes.

"Now come. We don't have so long before the castle will notice our absence" you nudged him forward while signalling with a nod to the town. He broke out of his rigidity and followed you quickly.

After some time, you broke the silence.

"So, mind telling me what you want to do there, your grace? Meeting a mistress perhaps?" You questioned amused.

"I don't have a mistress. I guess I just like the noise and the lively hustle and bustle where I could hide myself from my duties as a prince" he explained calmly. His black hair shimmered silver in the sun and his eyes turned into a rich chocolate brown that seem to be endless.

"I understand that." you answered, finally arriving at the town. "So, where do you want to go?" You added. He lead you through the streets. The more you moved forward to the city centre, the bigger were the mass of people.

You knew this town very well. After your mother got pregnant with you, your dad accepted his position in the castle, forcing your parents to move here. They bought a small house on the outer ring of the city so that he could easily go to the castle within 15 minutes. You went to school here and after your mother got ill, it was your job to clean the house and to buy errands from the market. You knew this route.

Seungmin wanted to go to the huge market in the centre of the city. You were still some hundred metres away and yet, you could hear the chattering and shoutings. You turned right and you stood directly in front of the market.

It was acolourful spectacle of life, colours and sounds. The smell of fresh bread and roasted meat fills the air, while the laughter of children and the hustle and bustle of traders fills the square. The market begins with a row of wooden benches and stalls standing close together. Trader from near and far offer their wares, their voices overlapping in an effort to attract the attention of the people passing by.

One stall is piled high with shiny apples and juicy pears, another is hung with sausages and hams glistening in the sun, and a few steps further on the smell of exotic spices attracts people. A trader in a colourful robe spreads out a selection of rare herbs and spices from distant lands, his wares as precious as gold. Next to him, a cloth merchant has spread out his fine fabrics, shining in all the colours of the rainbow and bringing a longing sparkle to the eyes of the women and girls, while in one corner an old storyteller sits on a wooden barrel, surrounded by a group of curious children. Once, you sat there too and listened to him.With sweeping gestures and a deep, melodic voice, he tells stories of brave knights and fire-breathing dragons.

Not far away, a musician plays his lute and a young boy beats a drum while people clap their hands to the beat and some even begin to dance. A blacksmith demonstrates the art of swordsmithing, sparks flying as he moulds red-hot iron. A few steps further on, a ropemaker demonstrates his skills by spinning sturdy ropes and fine cables. Here and there, a travelling merchant offers his remedies, miracle elixirs and tinctures that are supposed to help against every conceivable ailment.

You two wandered through the place side by side. While Seungmin eyed the wares, you observed the environment precisely. It was a risk to go here with him. In the hustle and bustle, attacker could easily come close and try to harm him. Your hand was placed on your sword, a small warning that you would defend him.

He stopped in front of a stall with beautiful flowers in all sizes and colours. While you turned around to have everything in your sight, he spoke with the old lady. You know her, she already sold her flowers when you were young. You remember that your father bought your mother and you a bunch of flowers, lilies to be exact. The old lady explained to you back then that they stand for devotion and admiration.

You flinched when something touched your ear, turning slightly. Seungmin chuckled.

"Easy, tiger. It's just me" he pushed something behind your ear. When he was finished, you touched the object. It was a flower and you wanted to take it in your hand but Seungmin grabbed your hand and your gaze shot to him.

"leave it like this. It suits you"

A small blush crept up your face and you felt your heart beating faster. You couldn't control the small smile that decorated your lips.

"Thank you. I guess then I have to leave it there"

"Indeed." He just answered and walked to the next stall, completely ignoring your red face from the unexpected gesture.

#stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #seungmin x reader #stray kids #seungmin #seungmin stray kids #seungmin skz #seungmin imagines #skz #seungmin x you #seungmin x y/n

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livingdeadmlm · 5 days ago

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You Bring Me Closer to God pt8

Pronouns: The reader is referred to as a man.

Physical Sex: not mentioned

How far are things going?: no touching this chapter but Dutch gets pushy

Warnings: Father talks about his past, and there are mentions of Father being chased and hit, but no big details

Outline: now you have to feed plenty of hungry men and a few women they seem to want to stick around, so they help with a chore.

What inspired me to write this is: the awful priest romance book I picked up.

Other: a little rushed! I am too excited I want to write alternative versions of this chapter but i held back maybe it will be a special for later!

Tag list @unr0tt3n @pedifero comment or send an ask to be added to the tag list when new updates come out!!

Previous Chapter or Next Chapter

You were very well equipped to cook for so many people. There was always too much left over when it was just you and Mickey. Having learned how to cook from the nuns, your only frame of reference for cooking was enough to feed a litter.

While waiting for the eggs, you began preparing the potatoes. You cleaned the dirt off them, cut them into cubes, and fried them in oil.

The first to arrive were the women. Mary-Beth and Karen’s conversation drifted through the door. The trio stood together outside for a moment, only catching the tail end of their exchange.

“I just think you gotta stop putting on that hard act. People probably think you hate ‘em rather than enjoy their company,” Mary-Beth said, her voice soft but direct. Tilly hummed in agreement before adding, “Plus, you know the relationship they have? It ain’t real. Everyone knows it.”

“I don’t think she knows,” Karen said, her voice heavy with sadness and a bit annoyed. There was a brief silence before the door groaned open.

“Good morning, Father (Name)! What’s on the menu today?” Tilly skipped past the others, eager to break the moment of tension, while the two women whispered between themselves.

“Good morning, Tilly. Bacon, eggs, and potatoes today! As always, the back room is open for you ladies. Sister Charlotte will be thrilled to see it being used again.” You smiled fondly at the thought of her, along with the other church members who visited on Sundays—or occasionally Wednesdays—but never stayed long after.

They didn't need to stay, though. The church in Valentine's wasn’t a busy place, and it was easy to manage independently. However, keeping the church running day and night could take a toll.

“That sounds lovely, Father (Name). I didn’t know others lived here with you.” For a moment, you frowned, realizing Tilly had no way of knowing you were alone, primarily at the church.

“Well, it’s just me,” you replied. “The spare rooms are available for those in need, especially during the rainy season. Sometimes, floods leave visitors stranded for days.”

“Ain’t that dangerous?” Tilly’s voice trailed off as she looked around the main room, her gaze shifting from the kitchen to the old fixtures. “All this fancy stuff here... you could get robbed.”

“We don’t have much to steal,” you shrugged with a light laugh. “Unless you’re interested in dust bunnies and old knick-knacks! Father Gavin puts any money donated straight into the church’s bank fund.” You watched the potatoes begin to float in the oil, and there was a slight fizzing sound as they cooked.

Tilly smiled, but a loud crash echoed down the hall as the conversation settled. Your heart jumped in your chest, and you rushed toward the sound.

The door at the start of the hallway was slightly ajar.

“What happened?!” you shouted before you could stop yourself. The panic in your voice was apparent—more from fear than anger.

You found Mary-Beth and Karen standing in front of a shelf, its door on the floor beside it. The shelf had been here for years, its hinges long past their prime.

But it wasn’t the shelf that caught your attention. The cup used for the blood of Christ lay shattered on the floor, pieces glittering in the light. Both women looked pale, their eyes wide at the sight of the broken relic.

“I’m so sorry, Father (Name)! We—” Mary-Beth’s voice trembled as she quickly glanced at you.

“Are either of you hurt?” you asked, trying to steady yourself. “I should’ve gotten rid of this old shelf.”

You held out a hand to each of them, both women looking at you as though you had two heads. Karen was the first to take it, stepping carefully over the sharp shards of glass and splintered wood. Mary-Beth followed suit, apologizing profusely as she took your hand as well.

“That cup must’ve been so expensive!” she exclaimed, eyes wide with concern.

You waved a hand dismissively. “It’s only gold-plated! And honestly, your health is more important than any cup.”

As you kicked the scattered shards of glass away, you closed the door with a soft click.

“So, that cup ain’t worth much?” Karen asked, her voice sounding almost disappointed.

Tilly whipped her head toward her with a sharp look. “Goodness, no! Keeping a pure gold cup like that in this town would be asking for trouble! I have spares in case it breaks.” You walked over to a cabinet beside the kitchen’s entryway.

Opening the bottom door, you revealed a row of five gold-plated cups—each worth no more than a few cents.

“Huh.” Mary-Beth hummed as she glanced between the two women, an odd expression crossing her face.

“Well, if everyone’s okay, I’ll return to the kitchen!” You gave a quick bow, eager to return to the stove before the potatoes burned. “Feel free to use the activity room, as always!”

You continued cooking as the men shuffled in. Most of them greeted you with a quick “Good morning” before settling into their usual spots, each finding their place without a second thought—just like the first time. The only difference today was Dutch hovering as you worked, Arthur leaning casually against the wall nearby, Sean’s incessant rambling filling any gaps in the air, and John taking your usual seat between Kieran and Charles.

Dutch’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than usual. You could feel its weight, even with your back turned. You were used to Kieran's warm energy around you, even Javiers hawk eyes watching your every move.

“How long have you been in this work, Father [Name]?” Dutch’s voice, smooth and sly, broke the silence. You glanced over, your stomach tightening as his gaze never left you, practically studying your every move.

You smiled nervously, trying to keep your focus on the food. “Ah, well, I’m 40 now. I made the vow when I was 20.”

Dutch leaned in slightly, his voice carrying just enough to flutter through you. “20 years without a little... pleasure? Sounds like a hell of a thing, Father. I couldn’t last two weeks.”

Your face flushed, and you quickly looked down at the eggs, hoping the heat from the stove would swallow you whole. “No need for pleasure when there’s work to be done,” you muttered, trying to keep your composure.

“No sex for 20 years?” Sean’s voice broke through, full of disbelief. “How do you manage that? Seems like a nightmare.”

You cleared your throat. “Well, since I was a boy, I never really cared much for... those kinds of things,” you said, sounding hollow even to your ears. “I liked helping people. When I learned to read, I’d sit with my ma and read to her while she worked around the house... Or I’d be running around with my brothers, getting better at marbles.”

Charles, Kieran, and Javier exchanged looks, and Hosea spoke up, placing his book down. “No fine lady ever caught your eye? Not even one?”

Before you could respond, Dutch spoke again, his tone soft but laden with that same edge. “A man as handsome as yourself, Father [Name]? Surely there must’ve been someone... a lady who caught your attention.”

You felt your cheeks burn again. “Well, there was one girl,” you said, trembling slightly. “She lived down the road, but I was already 16, working at the church. Nothing happened. My life was... different. Always has been.” The difference was that any normal man would’ve married her when she showed interest.

Dutch’s smile grew wider, the teasing shifting into something almost predatory as he leaned closer. “Must’ve been quite the sight—you, all young and full of promise and no interest in a little fun?” His voice dropped, just low enough to shiver down your spine. You shut your eyes briefly, and images of the fool you became last night flooded your mind.

You plated the last of the eggs in small piles of salted potato and bacon for the women in the other room. “I didn’t have time for... that,” you muttered, hoping the words would be enough to deflect.

The church did keep you busy almost every hour. But it wasn’t like you didn’t have a chance at a personal life. It just slipped through your fingers before you realized what you were losing a grip on.

Dutch didn’t back off. He stayed close, his breath barely warm on your ear as he spoke softly, “Maybe you just never found the right person to make you forget about the vows you made, hmm?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and Arthur’s voice broke through, rough and dismissive, before you could find an answer. “Alright, that’s enough, Dutch. Leave the man be he's a priest, for god's sake.” Your hand reached for your rosary. Rolling the pale-colored beans in the pads of your fingers.

Javier, quietly observing, pushed his chair back with a scrape. His voice was low but firm, eyes narrowing as he shot a quick look at Dutch. “Give it a rest. We don’t need to make Father uncomfortable over breakfast, yeah?”

Dutch straightened up, a chuckle escaping him as he backed off slightly, though his smirk never wavered. “Oh, I’m just having a bit of fun with him,” he said lightly, but there was a noticeable edge in his voice that suggested he wasn’t entirely ready to drop it.

Arthur shook his head, crossing his arms. “Yeah, well, maybe some of us don’t find that fun all that amusing.” It felt hypocritical for Arthur and Javier to call out Dutch’s teasing. They’d left you in worse states with their fun with you.

Still intrigued by the conversation, Sean leaned forward, looking between Dutch and Arthur with a grin. “You two are a piece of work,” he muttered, but even he seemed to sense the moment had passed.

You let out a breath, relieved at the intervention. Dutch stepped back, finally giving you a little space, though his eyes still lingered on you for a moment longer than was comfortable.

“Well, Father, it seems I’ve been put in my place,” Dutch said with a sly grin, his voice still dripping with that quiet amusement. “But don’t think this conversation is over just yet.”

You excused yourself and quickly walked down the hall to the activity room. Slowly creaking the door with a smile, you said, “Here's your food, ladies! If you want more, please let me know.” Each woman took a plate with a grin. Your offer felt like you were waiting on them hand and foot, and it was a nice change for them.

Your hands were empty, and you reached for a framed photo on the small table in the room.

It was a photo taken of you when you were 21. You were fresh-faced and had a stone-serious look. You wanted to smile for the picture, but each man and woman before you held such a stern expression that you did as well.

When you returned to the kitchen, you fiddled with the frame, the cold metal heating up in your hands.

Holding it out to Arthur as you started to plate the rest of the men's meals, the heat of Dutch’s gaze still lingered, and you couldn’t help but wonder how long you’d be able to push him away.

Dutch spoke again, his voice a little softer this time, almost as if acknowledging the shift in the atmosphere. “What’s on your mind?”

You didn’t look up as you replied, keeping your tone steady. “Nothing. Just thinking about the food, Dutch. Trying to get everyone fed before it gets cold.” You lightly added salt and pepper to the eggs, avoiding eye contact with the man

Dutch’s lips quirked up into a half-smile, the glint in his eyes betraying a knowing amusement. “Ah, always the dutiful one, aren’t you?” His voice was low, as though speaking only to you.

There was always something magnetic about him, pulling you in without you even realizing it. You wanted to dig your feet into the ground. Stop this impure pull he had. The impure pull they all did.

Arthur cleared his throat from the edge of the room as if sensing the conversation needed steering. “I’d say he’s damn good at what he does, Dutch. Best cook we’ve had, that’s for sure.” His voice was blunt, but there was a protective tone underlying it that you appreciated.

Your eyes softened, and you looked at Arthur with a smile. Arthur looked at the photo, nodded, a small smile dancing on his lips for a moment before becoming stern again, and passed it over to Charles, who took a much longer look.

“How old were you in this one?” His low voice was only for you as you placed his plate of eggs in front of him. “I'm about 21 there. First full year living in Valentine! I think you can see it in my eyes.” you laughed, grabbing more plates for the rest of the men.

Dutch’s eyes narrowed for a second, and he seemed to weigh something in his mind, his expression shifting to one of contemplation. “You’re right, Arthur. I’ve always appreciated a man who knows his way around the kitchen. Makes life easier for the rest of us.” You were pulled back into the larger conversation, seeing Charles pass the photo to Javier and John.

You could hear the sincerity in his voice now, but it didn’t entirely erase the undercurrent of teasing. The serving plates were placed in the middle of the table as you turned to pass out the plates with two eggs each.

Kieran got an extra egg under his two; you didn’t want the favoritism to be too blatant. Sean took a piece of bacon off the serving plate despite his plate being placed before him.

“Wow, look at you. Have you only started smiling recently?” John's voice was a bit scratchy, his eyes squinting at the photo. Charles had begun to serve himself as well as Kieran and Hosea.

“Just how everyone else was taking their photos! I wanted to smile but just didn’t end up working out.” You held plates to Arthur and Dutch, the only two not sitting down.

Sean leaned over the table to stare at the photo with Kieran. “Makes ya look real professional, like a big boss!” You waved a hand, taking a small potato cube from the serving plate and popping it into your mouth.

“I think you aged quite nice, not a day over 30.” Kieran's mouth was full as he spoke, his eyes shining as he admired you now and you in the photo. “I’ll say, could’ve been a real heartbreaker! Maybe it's good you took that vow and saved hundreds of women from falling all over you.” Hosea laughed, putting more potatoes on his plate than anything else.

“You’ve all got a serpent's tongue!” You laughed, letting the heavy energy Dutch brought in a roll off of your back. “Kierans, just trying to butter you up for more food,” Javier said, nodding to Kieran, who, sure enough, Kieran was already eyeing the serving plate again.

As the laughter filled the room, you felt yourself relax. Each man's mouth was now too busy to speak. John seemed the most beside himself, eating almost as fast as Kieran.

Arthur’s voice broke through the blunt noise with that familiar rough edge. “Father,” he said, his tone a little lighter now, “you’re damn good with this food. Best cooking I've had in a lifetime. I reckon we’re spoiled with every meal you make.”

You gave him a grateful smile as you placed another plate before him. As you were aware, this was his first time trying your food. “Glad to hear it. I try my best.”

Javier leaned back in his chair, eyeing you with a playful glint. “Best cook and humble, too,” he teased, raising an eyebrow. His hand brushed against yours as you handed him his plate.

Across the table, Sean was grinning, clearly enjoying the light-hearted exchange. “Well, looks like I’m next for some of that charm, Father,” he said with a wink. “Any chance ya could save a piece of bacon for me?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Sean, you’ve got no shame, you know that?”

“I prefer to think of it as confidence,” Sean shot back, his grin never fading as he snatched a piece of bacon off the serving plate. “But hey, I’m just sayin’, if you need someone to help with that second helping, I’m your man.”

You glanced at him, shaking your head but feeling that familiar flutter in your chest. Kieran, who had been quietly eating, looked up at you with an endearing smile. “He’s not wrong,” Kieran added, his voice warm. “I’d be happy to help you if you have too much left over.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how casual Kieran was about his offer, his grin soft but filled with genuine affection. “I’m sure you would.” You almost felt inclined to press a kiss to the man's head. A thought that made you nervous.

Hosea, who had been enjoying the quieter moments of the conversation, gave you a warm smile.“You’ve been makin’ us all feel spoiled, Father,” he said, his voice calm and sincere. “A meal like this? Doesn’t come around too often.”

You smiled back at him, grateful for his quiet appreciation. “I enjoy cooking for all of you. It’s nice to see everyone eating well.”

Arthur shifted in his starting position, noticing the moment of warmth. His gaze softened, and he cleared his throat before speaking again. “You do more than that, Father,” he said, his voice lower and more earnest than usual. “We owe you more than a meal.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart skip a beat. “You don’t owe me anything, Arthur,” you replied, trying to brush off the compliment, though the weight of his words lingered.

Charles leaned in from the table, his voice light and teasing. “If you’re tryin’ to get Father to blush, Arthur, you’re doing a fine job.” Thankful most of the teasing died down; you had to make a few more eggs for yourself and whoever wanted extras.

“Any plans for today?” you glanced around the room, taking a bite of your still-warm food. Most of the men shook their heads or shrugged. Arthur mentioned going to the saloon later in the day.

“I have to clean out that old storage room. Everything is just collecting dust in there.” Hosea put his plate in the sink, joining you in leaning against the counter. “Would you like some help? I’d love to look at any old things in there.” You nodded quickly, covering your full mouth with your hand as your voice came out muffled.

“Oh please, Mister Matthews, would you? I’ve been avoiding that room for years!”

Hosea smiled, a puff in his chest at the attention you showed him. Most of your food was gone now, and all the men had finished eating by now, just standing around.

When you finished your food, idle conversation began between the men. You lead Hosea to the room, warning him of the broken glass on the floor. The room wasn’t large, but it was a decent size under the crates of donated items and old furniture. You opened the lid of a large crate, seeing it was full of women's clothes. Hosea took the lid off of a separate crate. “I’ll take these to the women! I’m not sure it is in style, but maybe they’ll like something here.”

You grunted as you lifted the crate, taking quick steps to the room a few feet away.

“Hi, ladies! I’m cleaning out that old storage room and found some old donated clothes. Would you like to go through them?”Mary Beth immediately stood up, placing her book down with a soft thud. "Oo! Of course," she said, her eyes lighting up with curiosity. As she joined you, she reached for a soft blue skirt, holding it up to herself with a delighted laugh. "It’s been a while since I had something new to wear."

You turned to leave the room, but something about the quietness outside made you pause. Soft murmurs drifted from the storage room, enough to catch your attention.

"What on earth is this even for?"

"Did they use this?"

"This carving is real nice…"

Curiosity nudged you to step back into the room, where every man stood a little too still. Most of them avoided eye contact or blushed faintly. You raised an eyebrow, wondering what they’d discovered.

"Is everything okay in here, men?" you asked, trying to peek over their shoulders. "What did you find?"

Kieran turned toward you, holding up a thick, dark wooden paddle. "Uh, Father (Name), what’s this for?" he asked, his voice a little more tentative than usual. The paddle was worn, its surface rough, but most striking was the word "sinner" carved boldly into the wood, raised and permanent. “Kind of crazy shit you got going on here?” Johns's hands were on his hips, eyeing you over.

Your eyes widened as recognition hit you like a slap. "That…" you stammered, trying to find the right words. "Well- It’s not mine!" You eyed John back, realizing his accusation toward you. His weight shifted from hip to hip, not backing down from your look.

You held out your hands to take the paddle from Kieran, your fingers grazing its weight as you examined it. A flood of memories rushed back. The former bishop had been cruel, intent on ruling through fear rather than faith. You flipped the paddle over, tracing the whittled handle.

"This was his," you muttered. "He used to carry it everywhere, threatening to use it on anyone who stepped out of line." You paused, steadying yourself. "He made it himself long before any of us were walking the earth."

The men stood in rapt attention, their gazes fixed on you as you ran your hand over the paddle’s edge, lost in the memories. "I could’ve sworn I burned this years ago," you continued, your voice quieter now.

"I remember him chasing me with it when I dared to speak out about how cold he was." A shiver ran through you, recalling how your lungs burned as you ran across town, hiding in the stables. "I’ve never run so fast in my life."

Charles cleared his throat, his voice low. "Did he ever land a hit?" It was a blunt question that had been on everyone’s mind.

You winced slightly at the memory. "Once, yes," you said quietly. "I’d gone to the river to wash up, and he caught sight of me. Accused me of trying to tempt folks. I was miles away from town, but that didn’t stop him." You felt a bitter tightness in your chest. The word ‘sinner’ burned into your back every time you moved for weeks, every time you changed shirts. “Sometimes I can still feel the ache.”

As the men digested the story, a dark silence fell over the room, but you shook your head to dismiss its weight. "An evil man," you murmured. "We had a real celebration the day he left. Some church in Rhodes offered him a job, and we were so happy to let him go."

You pointed to a painted portrait hung up in the room, “That’s him right there. The vain man couldn’t stop bragging about how he was painted, and we were photographed.” You rolled your eyes, looking at the painting. “What an ugly bastard! No wonder he was so mean. Mad at the world for lookin’ like tha’.” You laughed at Sean's honesty. He was an ugly fool to look at.

“Tell me about it; I’m sure that box is full of the old things he left behind.” You stepped closer to the crate, seeing a few shirts and other odds and ends. Hosea pulled out an old, dusty journal from the crate and gave a sympathetic nod. "Good riddance, then. Sounds like he left behind more than a few scars, but at least you got some peace when he was gone."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words but smiling despite yourself. "Peace, indeed."

Charles poked through the crate and pulled out an old pocket watch. "Well, there’s some interesting stuff here, huh? This could fetch a decent price in town."

"Don't get too excited," you warned, stepping closer to see what he was looking at. "Most of this stuff is probably just old junk, but who knows, we might find something worth keeping." as more boxes were opened, you told much happier stories of the church's past. Most things that couldn’t be saved were shoved into one crate to be given to the wagon that passed through town to take the trash to be dealt with outside of city limits. An old couch was under a few paintings; you huffed, wiping your brow of sweat.

“Well, I must thank all of you men; you are all very kind to help with such a boring task.” You leaned back into the sagging cushions of the old couch, your fingers absently tapping the armrest. The men moved around the room, occasionally slipping small items into their pockets—things you didn’t need if they had been here for so long and never were looked for.

“I must warn you all that it's going to get hazardous living where you are soon.” You sighed, your shoulders dropping as you leaned your head back against the couch, the soft creak of the furniture beneath you almost too loud in the quiet room. You rubbed your temples, trying to shake the unease building inside you.

“Last year, we had such a terrible storm. The town was flooded.” Your voice softened, and you couldn’t help but glance down, your hands folding tightly in your lap. "They say we will have another just like it." The thought made your chest tighten. You couldn't shake the image of people you’ve met caught in the same chaos, and your heart ached for them.

“We have spare rooms here. You could come by the night before it starts,” you suggested, standing up with a slight frown as if the offer could somehow ease your growing concern. You paced a few steps, trying to convince yourself everything would be fine.

“I, uh, understand the situation you men are in. But there's no need to worry; most folks in town hardly step out when it's raining so hard. You won't be seen.” Your gaze lingered on them for a moment, and you offered a shaky smile, though the worry in your eyes was hard to mask. You tried to stay calm, but the looming storm made everything uncertain.

“How long till this storm?” Kieran asked, his voice cutting through the tension. You glanced out the window, feeling an unease in the air. The sky was still clear, but you knew better. That bright blue would be swallowed by dark clouds soon enough.

“I’d say a week,” you murmured, voice low. “You’ll see it in the coming days. Gets so dark over here.” The thought of that suffocating gloom was unsettling, and you instinctively rubbed your arms.

“You all don’t have to come here; even the hotel is more than fine to take you all in.” You kicked your foot nervously as you spoke, hoping your words didn’t sound too forceful. "I would hate for you to fall ill or get hurt in the storm." You turned back to them, trying to meet their eyes, but the worry in your chest wasn’t going away.

“I'm sorry for my behavior. It's just that last year was so bad.” You sighed and shook your head. “I’d love to show you all the rooms. Check if there is enough space for everyone.”

Hosea and Dutch nodded, and you walked out of the room. “So! The storage room can fit at least five. I know the girl likes the activity so that they can stay there with space for two more.” It felt odd walking without the cassock on. You liked the flowy fabric around your legs; you felt slightly exposed without it.

You made your way to the hall across from the church. “Of course, my room is open. I'm sure I can take one or two people.” You tried to think of more ways to accommodate people comfortably. “I can also give you and your wife my room, Dutch. I’ve slept in the pews many times before!” When you glanced at the two men, Dutch gave you an odd look, and Hosea's eyes were wide.

“Molly ain’t my wife.” Dutch’s voice was stern, eyes squinting as he said it.

“Oh! My apologies. You two just seemed very sweet on each other.” You were nervous at his defensive tone. “My fault for, um, assuming.” You turned back around, leading the men down the hall.

“Three rooms here can fit about 4-5 men comfortably! There are a few cots and bed rolls. In the rooms.”

“I think this will work perfectly. The hotel would charge us plenty for so many people to stay.” Dutch nodded at Hosea's words. “Well, we will have to go and let the rest know; plus, it's about time we get out of your hair, Father (Name).” Dutch checked his pocket watch and glanced at the entryway of the church.

“I do enjoy the company! But lives are meant to be lived!” you stepped out of the hall and into the church's main room. “I’ll be here.”

A few men had begun to file out, and you waved goodbye. The women also left with arms full of clothing and wide smiles on their faces. The church was silent once again. You looked at your clock: 11:30. It was a good amount of time to make pie crust and go through any mail you had.

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hyperficationcrafts · 2 months ago

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Poorly Spelled Book Review #1 For Whom the Belle Tolls by Jaysea Lynn

First book of 2025 and it was an amazing pick. You dont have to know about the authors amazing tiktok scetch series, Hells Belles, to enjoy but I really enjoyed the little nods the the series and being introduced to characters I already loved. Im not the biggest fan of Romance, so I read this more for the fantasy aspect, but the romance and spice that was there was incoperated so well that it didnt throw me off. I loved how the romance help the story along, and didnt take over the entire story (which is the problem I usully have with romance books). It might have been easier for me because I was already inlove with the characters. Seeing there story play out was amazing. This is deffently a must read!!!

Also as off this time it is only avaible on Kindle but will deffiently buy when it comes out in paper format.

Five out of Five Stars

#hells belles #Sea.ya.later #Book review #for whom the belle tolls #jaysea lynn #romance books #fantasy books #hell #afterlife #paranormal #spiritual #kindle #five out of five

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quackity1999 · 3 months ago

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Hello President Quackity, i wanna ask how many cities are there in Las Nevadas? What are the famous landmarks i can visit around the country? And how is Las Nevadas was divided into regions? And what's the name of said regions?

it's a lot smaller than you'd believe. there's districts and whatnot, but we're incredibly effective despite the size.

in consideration of landmarks . .

THE TOLL GATE — the official entrance of las nevadas. manned by our highest security, requires a fee and background check just to ensure there's nobody bringing their bad intentions with them.

THE CASINO — a las nevadas hotspot for any high rollers or gamblers willing to put their stakes on the line! proudly partnered with a variety of investors to bring you the best of entertainment. blackjack, pool tables, slots, lottery, poker, roulette; we're open 24/7. if you're looking for quackity, he walks the floor on wednesdays. be sure to stop by.

[ ↑ minors are strictly banned from this venue. ↑ ]

THE FOUNTAINS — a visual display positioned right in the heart of the nation. drop in a coin for luck. or you can play in it if. if you really want, we don't especially care??? but please don't use it for a bathroom. Pleas.;e

THE SPACE NEEDLE — also known as the needle. it serves as both a breathtaking landmark and a go-to destination for any las nevadas’ elite. catering to curious tourists, hustlers, or innovators who've got cash to spend, it offers a personal dining experience perfect for exclusive gatherings or business meetings. with a strict reservation-only policy, the upper floors promise unparalleled views and luxury meals tailored to those who deserve nothing less.

THE HOTEL — need to catch up on the z’s? book in a room at the las nevadas hotel, where opulence meets indulgence. from plush, custom-designed suites to 24/7 concierge service, every detail is tailored to ensure a good night's rest. whether you’re unwinding after a big win or escaping the chaos of the strip club, the las nevadas hotel promises tranquility, style, and a better morning than your last.

THE STRIP CLUB — if you've had a long night of losing your bets at the casino, the strip club will tend to your ego with a wave of her feathered fans and a kiss on the cheek. the bartenders, while not always the most social, know how to mix the most eloquent of drinks. with our three stages full of the latest talent, trade your morals for martinis and let the desert’s finest entertain you.

[ ↑ minors are strictly banned from this venue. ↑ ]

THE WEDDING HALL — . . while it can serve as a wedding venue, it's better as an. uhhh. bridge. overgrown garden. thingy. WE'RE GUNNA FIX IT. ITS FINE. ITS GOT SOME COOL LILYPADS.

THE GAS STATION — also known as gas me up. local gas station. you get the gist.

THE RESTAURANT — the local dining hub for regulars, citizens and tourists alike! whether you’re here for a quick bite or a hearty meal, we’ve got you covered. proudly partnered with tubburger, serving up gourmet burgers that are as iconic as the las nevadas skyline. kick back and take in the view, whilst also stuffing your face. no need to try and look pretty.

THE DOCKS — if you're a little overwhelmed by all the glitz and glamor of the nation's central, catch some fresh air down at the docks. yes, we have a cruise ship.

THE POOLHOUSE + SAUNA — the desert gets heated when you're stuck counting your chips, so sink into pristine temperatures at any hour of the day for some critical relaxation. coming soon: a massage parlor!

THE EIFFEL TOWER — experience paris in the heart of the desert. towering high and mighty, our lifesize replica of the eiffel brings the charm and elegance of french taste right to your doorstep. immerse yourself in a piece of history — no passport required. perfect for those seeking romance, adventure, or a simply unique experience. come visit the one of the world’s most iconic landmarks, now closer than ever!

THE THEATRE — from blockbuster films to mesmerizing live performances, we bring the magic of the screen and stage under one roof. we're more than happy to deliver the visual delights, from classic to indie. free seating, membership lounges, and a full-service bar, we offer the ultimate in comfort. our exclusive screenings and priority booking (VIP only) make every movie an unforgettable experience.

OTHER — uhhhhh. walltown, i guess. we got that to settle the dispute with snowchester, blah blah. and as much as i hate to bring any attention to it, there's the . . ranvan? wilburger? thing? just outside the borders, anyway. it's a burn mark on the edge of the greater SMP, in my opinion. i recommend staying on the highway instead of taking a shitstop. sorry, i meant pit stop.

#quackitychirps #ask blog #delegation — LN TEXTBOOK.#ooc: girl this took so long to write. Pleas enjo y

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acourtofthought · 10 months ago

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@starsreminisce posted these comments on their blog:

And the last paragraph really stood out to me.

Something I've seen said by a certain side of the fandom is that a bonus chapter should not change the trajectory of what is in the actual book. I disagree with that because I look at the bonus chapters as a sneak peek of what's to come in future books (with this particular bonus following the pattern talked about in a post yesterday, with the resolution to the small story pointing us in the direction of Gwynriel), things that Sarah will at a later point expound on within the actual series even if they weren't initially clear to us without having read the bonus.

But say that's the truth, say the bonus chapters are only in line with that which we already know (which still works for Gwynriel because though the bonus hinted at Gwyn having a curiosity towards Az and him possibly having a bond with her, we do see bits of that in the actual book as well, there are scenes with her staring in his direction and scenes where he's staring in hers, where he shows admiration for her, where she's teasing him, where Nesta calls Az her new ribbon).

One of the big arguments is that it's extremely clear that Elain has no interest in Lucien, that it's been the case for multiple books. It's said Elain does not owe Lucien an explanation, that she does not owe him her time or attention.

So why not write an Elain bonus chapter in SF where she and Lucien have a conversation discussing how they don't want to explore their bond? According to E/riels there's no need for it in the first place since she's made herself clear but they have also claimed that she won't break the bond until we have her POV. Then wouldn't a bonus in Elain's POV before her book be the perfect place for something that's so obvious so that when she starts her own book "with Az", there's nothing standing in their way and the focus can be on their romance and the plot and not the emotional toll that her severing her bond with Lucien would take? If the Elucien bond is as much of a non issue as some claim it be be, then why not deal with it in an Elain Bonus Chapter? When her book starts, Sarah could even recap the events of the bonus for those who had missed it.

Elain thought back to that conversation she and Lucien shared shortly after Solstice. Where after Azriel's rejection, which had cut her deeply, she realized there was no place in her heart for anyone but Az even if she wasn't sure he still wanted her.

That would have actually be a perfect way for SJM to move us past the Elucien bond with very little in the way of feeling devastated on Lucien's behalf, where his heart is not being broken in real time within her romantic arc.

But the author didn't do that. She gave Az and FEYRE a POV. Feyre who already had 3 books and a novella and Elain with a total of 0.

We know Az doesn't think Lucien is good enough for Elain but we don't know if Elain agrees with that.

We know Az questioned the Cauldron because of his brothers and her sisters, that he hadn't thought of being with Elain beyond his sexual fantasies but we don't know where Elain stands on the whole "just wants one taste / why wasn't Az made my mate" debate.

We know Az thought of Elain as too trusting and hopeful but we've no clue whether Elain was really thinking anything of the sort.

We've got Feyre thinking back on how she made sure to keep her mouth shut on Elain not wearing Lucien's gloves, how had she put them on she would have never been pierced in the first place but we still don't know whether Elain's actions with the gloves actually line up with her thoughts.

If Sarah wanted to continue on with what is apparently so evident in the four books of buildup for E/riel there was nothing preventing her from finally giving us Elain's POV in SF and having her tell Lucien that there's no reason for him to hold out hope any longer.

The more likely explanation for why Elain wasn't given a bonus is because everything that E/riels and Az claim that is so very obvious regarding Elain's character might actually not be as obvious as they think.

If she's so happy in the NC, then why hide her thoughts?

If she's so in love with Az, that it's clear as day, then why hide her thoughts?

If she's so disinterested in Lucien, then why hide her thoughts?

If we're supposed to believe that Elain's choice is Az, that there is no competition and that it should not be a mystery to anyone at this point, then why has she been so reticent to put us into Elain's head?

#elain archeron #pro elucien #elucien #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra

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elronds-meleth-nin · 1 year ago

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Bruinen's Eastern Shore - Part 1: Flight

This is set just prior to the events of the first Hobbit movie, so take that how you will. I'll probably have four parts for this fic. If anyone wants to be tagged for any future fics or updates, let me know and I'll start a taglist. Anyway, this is my first LotR related fanfic, so enjoy!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Elrond x Reader

[A/N: I haven't seen RoP, and I don't plan to, so this is Hugo Weaving's Elrond. All of my knowledge regarding this universe comes from the Jackson movies and the books.]

Warnings: Slow burn, Elf x Human romance, age gap (obviously, I mean, he's over 6000 years old), mentions of combat, death, blood, undefined magic (I'm winging it rn so uh...don't think about it too hard).

~*~

"Thank you again for taking the time to meet with me, Lord Elrond," the Man said as the pair walked through Elvish halls. The stone was older than the Human by several thousands of years, yet the Elf lord was there when they were first carved into bricks for construction. "I know your schedule is full to bursting–"

"Nonsense. I am always pleased beyond measure to speak with you, mellon-nin," the Elf interjected as they walked into his study. "Tell me, how are your people holding up with this new threat?"

That was precisely why the Man had come to Rivendell, in the first place. Even as nomads, Orc attacks used to be few and far between for his people, happening perhaps once or twice a year, but in the last six months alone, they'd repelled four assaults. Their losses were becoming concerning. The Man, their leader, decided that the time had come to seek advice and possibly assistance from one much wiser than he.

"They are shaken...frightened by even the smallest of things. The snap of a twig, a particularly loud howl from the wind..." The Elven host offered his guest a seat near his bookshelves - a quiet nook which he reserved for serious conversations or quiet contemplating - and took in his haggard expression. That Elrond understood more than anything. Remaining strong when you were just as afraid as the people whom you were trying to protect was a difficult task. Such endeavors could wear heavily on even the most seasoned and confident of commanders. "They are doing their best to remain strong, but I must confess, I-I am becoming less certain every day about the wisdom of my insistence that we keep moving. Perhaps we should find one good, defensive position and dig in..."

Elrond could see his dilemma.

"But if you took such an action, you would feel as though you were cowering, is that not so?" He offered no judgment and no solutions. Not yet. He wanted to guide his friend along the path to finding his own answer, not force his hand in one direction or the other. That was not his place. That was not his purpose.

The sigh that escaped the Man's lips was ragged, and his shoulders slumped slightly as if the weight of all Middle Earth was upon him.

"I know 'tis prideful, but our people have never shied away from a fight. To dig ourselves into a trench...that would feel too much like desperation. And, each time the Orcs returned, they would know exactly where to find us and how many more it would take to breach our defenses," he muttered running a hand through his hair. Once vibrant and full of color, the strands were flecked with gray. The Elf lord was reminded quite starkly of how much of a toll time took upon the mortals. A pang of sorrow twisted through his heart. After over six thousand years of life, he was well aware that death was a natural part of life for those species who were irrevocably tied to mortality, but his heart ached no less for his friend's eventual fate. "If we keep moving, though, they still manage to find us. Each attack grows in strength. Every time, more and more of my people fall upon enemy blades."

Elrond nodded his head with sympathy and understanding.

"Have your people offered any suggestions about what you might do?"

The Man stood abruptly and began pacing.

"Mekor put forth the idea of joining with a stationary settlement - just until the hoards are cleared, you understand," he said, but he shook his head. "I did not tell him, but the last time we were near several of the major cities, I...scouted ahead. I spoke with their leaders, explained our situation."

"And?"

"And, they all said the same thing: 'I cannot in good conscience allow you to draw such large numbers of orcs to our gates.' The difference is that they at least have gates behind which they can defend themselves," the Man paused near the window overlooking the valley. "And you know why I cannot go to the Rangers."

The Lord of Imladris drew in a deep breath and stood, making his way to his friend's side and laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Is there any help that I could offer which you would accept, mellon?" His question was quiet and probing, yet free of judgment. Elrond knew well the pride of Men and their desire to act as independently as possible. That would not, however, stop him from helping where he could. He would even go so far as to bring these mortals into Rivendell to stay. It was, after all, a refuge for just such an occasion.

After a long moment of consideration, the Man cleared his throat and lifted his chin as if to preserve his dignity.

"Our swords are old. Chipped and cracking. Several shattered during the last skirmish. And our supply of arrows and bow strings is...woeful. The few who were skilled at replenishing both were killed two months ago."

"I'll have Lindir draw up a list of supplies. No matter how small your need is, please tell him everything. We are more than happy to give you whatever help you require," Elrond said, and he could have sworn that the Human's eyes were filling with unshed tears of gratitude. Neither Man nor Ellon mentioned it. Trying to restore his friend's smile, at least to a small degree, the Elf lord changed the subject. "Tell me, how is your daughter faring through all of this?"

The grin that stretched the Man's lips was warm; the love he held for his only child shone brightly in his eyes, restoring some semblance of youth to his weathered features.

"She believes that this is all one big adventure. Though she be only a few years old, she is curious...asking more questions than I rightly know how to answer," he stated proudly. "She has her mother's intellect, and I am glad of it. I am no teacher, but I've managed to convey to her the meaning of a few words of your language."

Surprise was surely evident upon Elrond's face at his friend's declaration.

"Mellon-nin, I am honored."

"She'll need to be able to communicate with your people once she discovers what she is." The Human reached into his pocket and pulled out a small book, flipping it open and retrieving a loose piece of paper. "My late wife, as you know, was the artist of the family, however..."

He trailed off as he offered the page to his host. Elrond took it carefully, looking at the sketch of a little girl.

"Your daughter?" He asked almost reverently as he took in her joyful expression. Even in this simple drawing he could see the intelligence behind her eyes. After a few moments' keen observation, he tried to hand the drawing back to the Man who'd created it but was gently refused.

"Keep it. I brought you that, my dear friend, because if something happens to me...I want you to be familiar with her likeness. It will likely be vastly outdated by the time you meet her, but 'tis better than nothing." The somber tone of voice made Lord Elrond pause. "She is more important to me than all of Middle Earth, and if...if the Orcs take me from her, I must know that someone in this world knows to look out for her..."

Setting the sketch on his desk, the Elf placed his hands on his friend's shoulders.

"Should either of you ever need help, I will be there. She will have every protection that I can possibly afford her," he promised.

"There is...something else," the Man murmured looking into his friend's eyes. "It could be no more than an old man's imagination, but things have happened around her. Small things. Rain repelled from her as if it cannot touch her. Ripples in a pond by which she sits, though no breeze caressed the water's surface."

Elrond's posture straightened further at this new information. He knew that the blood of Númenor was thin in most, but if this was true, his friend's daughter might have a rare gift.

"Have no fear, mellon-nin. Your daughter will find her path, and if I can, I will gladly help her."

By the time of the Man's departure from Rivendell, Elrond had prepared a gift. With the weapons and extra supplies that he presented, the Lord of Imladris had one other item to offer. Opening a small, wooden box carved with Sindarin script, he revealed a silver necklace. The craftsmanship of his people was evident in the intricate curls and swirls of the metal. In the center was a forest green gem that, to the Man, seemed to glow with its own light.

"This is for your daughter. The pendant is a symbol of our protection - proof that she has favor with us. All she ever need do is show this to any Elf, and they will do whatever is necessary to assist her. If none of my people are near, she need only touch it and ask for help," Lord Elrond promised, and as if the gem could hear him, it pulsed with a warm, affectionate glow. The girl's father looked from the necklace to his friend, and this time a tear slid down his cheek as he offered his profuse gratitude. "I would be remiss to do anything less, mellon-nin."

After tucking the box safely away in his saddlebag, the Man embraced his friend. Neither knew that it would be for the last time.

"If you find yourself in danger, seek the elves of Rivendell."

My father repeated that to me more times than I could count as soon as I was old enough to comprehend the meaning behind his words. Our people were nomadic, constantly moving from place to place, setting up camp wherever we found ourselves. Every time we stopped, he made sure that I knew two things:

The first was the location of the nearest source of water.

The second was the way to Rivendell from our temporary encampment.

Long before I was brought into this world, my father ensured that we were on friendly terms with the steward of the valley. Each time we were even remotely close to Imladris, he made a point of speaking with the Elven lord.

Once, when I asked what Lord Elrond looked like, he brought out a small box of my mother's sketches. Rifling through them, he made a triumphant sound when he found the one he sought. Setting the box carefully aside on his bedroll, he had me sit beside him and turned the page toward me.

"The last time your mother and I visited, she made a point of drawing him. You must remember his face, my little love. One day you might need to request his help as I have done."

Much of the time, our wandering took us far from that sacred valley and the river that flowed before it. The final time that my father was able to visit, he brought back a gift. A necklace.

But it wasn't just a necklace. There was something about it that sent a wave of calm assurance through me. A sense of safety permeated my being every time I touched it. The cool metal seemed impervious to the elements, never rusting or tarnishing, as only the skill of the elves could accomplish. More than once over the years, I found myself looking at the pendant, wondering about the being who'd given me something so obviously unique on a whim.

Two decades and a handful of years later, I found myself sprinting through the trees with half of our remaining people. We were twelve desperate souls, flying through the underbrush with a hoard of Orcs behind us. Every few steps, I aimed an arrow behind me and prayed that it hit its mark upon my release.

"Come on! We're almost to the river!" I shouted, and my father's second in command, Mekor, let out an answering shout as we approached the ford. The snarls of Orcs and their Wargs nipped at our heels, urging us to move faster.

As much as it hurt, I was forced to ignore a terrified shout as the pack swallowed up one of our tired stragglers. This was a last ditch effort. If we stopped, we'd die.

Eleven.

Struggling for breath, I urged my people toward the sound of the Bruinen River and its eastern shore. Arrows from our pursuers flew through the trees, embedding themselves deeply within trunks and flesh alike. A few screams began and were silenced abruptly.

How many was that? Two? Four? No, we could count our dead once we were safe. Any who fell behind at this point were beyond our ability to save. Fifty Orcs against less than a dozen Humans? We would be lucky if any of our number survived the crossing.

Aiming another arrow backward, I allowed myself a moment's relief at the injured shriek of a Warg and the sickening crunch of its rider's bones as both crashed to the ground. Adrenaline rushed through me as the treeline appeared before us. The grass beneath our feet became a mix of pebbles and sand, rocks and mud.

"Quickly! Cross the river! Make for the eastern shore!" I shouted, and a few of the remaining people in our group echoed the sentiment. Two were cut down before they cleared the trees, their gurgling cries sending a bolt of helplessness through me even as I nocked and released arrows to buy time and space for my people. A few splashes reached my ears, and I prayed they'd make for the trees.

A yell of my name sounded from behind me.

"Come on! Get clear!" Mekor sounded much closer than I would've preferred. I needed him to live.

There were too many of them for me to hold off alone, so I turned and ran, beginning to cross the ford as quickly as I could. The pendant beneath my shirt thrummed against my skin, and an arrow whizzed by my ear so close that I could feel the displaced air from its fletching. That was too close for comfort. Much too close.

For the most part, the Orcs were afraid to cross into this territory. The Elves defended their land fiercely against such filth, after all, and very few of the cretins were stupid enough to seal their fate so definitively. However, a few who were brave enough - or perhaps foolish enough - to risk death started into the water after me. Not yet having reached the shore, I turned, grasping for arrows, but my quiver was empty. With a quiet oath, I turned and ran toward the trees. My boots were drenched, my lungs ached, and I blinked away sorrowful tears at having lost so many souls so quickly.

With a forest as ancient as this, the trees were rumored to whisper to each other and to those who remembered how to listen. The Elves listened.

Lord Elrond listened.

"Get to the trees!" I shouted, then I dug my hand into my shirt and grabbed the pendant. "Help us! Please! We're dying!"

The few brave Orcs who made it across and had not been shot down instantly apparently lent courage to their fellows. The Warg riders began to cross the racing waters, and I felt a horrible sense of dread settle into the pit of my stomach. The sight of boots disappearing into the trees was all well and good, but the Orcs would follow.

Someone had to make sure that they were distracted.

I had but one shot.

About an hour before he and his soldiers engaged the Orc hoard, Lord Elrond of Imladris had a vision. His gift of foresight showed a group of terrified Humans racing across the Bruinen with countless Orcs behind them. He was about to send out his guard, but the face of the young woman fighting so hard to protect the others made him pause.

He knew her face. She was older now - quite obviously an adult - but he still recognized the intelligence in her eyes and the determined set to her jaw.

More than that, the sparkle of the pendant that had escaped the collar of her shirt made him freeze. Icy dread washed over him as the vision changed to show her fleeing toward the trees. Her voice floated into his ears as easily as if she'd been standing right beside him.

"Help us! Please! We're dying!"

Elrond did not hesitate.

"Lindir!" He shouted as he began donning his armor. The younger Elf rushed into his lord's study. "Lindir, have my horse saddled. And ready a group of fighters. Hurry! Orcs are coming!"

When Elrond and his warriors caught sight of the group, the Orcs and Warg riders had just begun crossing the river. The glimpse he'd caught an hour before of her hair swishing over her shoulder as she fought repeated itself before his eyes, including her plea for help which now sounded as it should - like a whisper echoing through his very being, drawing him toward her. As he watched, she doubled back on her path, rushing back into the water.

She was trying to draw the focus of the Orcs away from her people - there weren't many Humans left. He urged his horse faster, his heart a racing drumbeat in his chest accompanying the galloping of his mount. He would not allow his friend's daughter to die within his borders while these lands were his to protect!

He'd just drawn his sword when the river's water began to whirl around her. Creating a wall between the Orcs and the remaining Humans, the water roared and flared with a shout from the woman. She lifted her arms, shoved them forward as if pushing a heavy weight, and the wall of water crashed over the majority of her enemies, washing them away as easily as pebbles in a current.

Magic. She'd performed magic! Her father had been right all those years ago.

But it was not the time to ponder her abilities. The time had come for him to fulfill his promise.

She'd bought just enough time for Elrond and his riders to reach the Orcs and cut down those who remained. Blades hissing and flashing, the Elves felled them easily.

By the time he turned back to the river, he saw her collapse onto the sandy bank, panting for air. He recognized the sight instantly: she'd overextended herself. Dismounting with a swish of his cloak, Elrond ran to her side, dropping to his knees and sheathing his blade before turning her gently onto her back.

Her glassy, exhausted gaze met his, and recognition flashed through her clever eyes.

"Elrond o Imladris, boe ammen veriad lîn." The words fell easily from her tongue despite how close she was to unconsciousness. She'd practiced them before.

"You have it, my lady," Elrond murmured, and almost as soon as the words passed his lips, her eyelids closed and she went limp in his grasp. He lifted her into his arms, cradled her close to his chest for one selfish moment, and with a few orders to his men to round up any survivors, the Elves brought their charges into the Hidden Valley.

~*~

Elvish Translations:

mellon-nin = my friend

Elrond o Imladris, boe ammen veriad lîn. = Elrond of Imladris, we need your protection.

#elronds-meleth-nin fic #Elrond x Reader #slow burn

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