#they used to seem so grown up and now they’re younger than me

[thesefallenembers]

that moment when you realise you’re about to be older than most of the fictional characters you used to look up to when you started reading young adult books

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Brother

best friend’s brother!mingi x fem reader

Trigger warnings: none

Content warnings: oral (f receiving), names ( babygirl, baby, good girl, angel), ass slapping, unprotected sex, cream pie, mingi's got a big dick (bc ofc he does)

Summary: your best friend's brother finally makes a move

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: hi angelssss i hope you like thisssss i had brain rot and wrote this in the span of maybe six hours total while i was at work. also message me or comment if you'd like to be on my tag list!

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

Smut below the cut

“Come on, you’re gonna love it! I promise.” Your best friend tugged at your arm, leading you up the front steps and into her family home. The house was large and you were certain that all of the rooms weren’t used. There was no way a family of four could make total use of a space so large.

“But this is a family event, babes. Are you sure?” You asked nervously, looking around as you toed your shoes off with trepidation.

“I’m positive. You’re my chosen family so you still count.” She squeezed your hand and you nodded slowly, taking in the massive foyer. A glittering chandelier hung above your head and before you was a sprawling staircase that led to two separate wings of the house.

Yeah, no way a family of four can use all this…

“Is it like…cousins and aunts and uncles or is it even more extended?” You asked nervously.

“It’s just my parents’ siblings and their children. And of course the grandparents. But my parents both come from large families so it’ll be close to eighty people. Just stick with me and all will be well. Now, they’re all in the den. Come on.” She reassured you and then you were headed in the direction of the family room. In a house like this, it felt more fitting to call the large room a parlor but you didn’t point that out.

As soon as you entered the room, all eyes were on you and your friend, including those of a tall, gorgeous man. You couldn’t bring yourself to look directly at him though. He was too pretty and too intimidating for you to stare. Besides, your friend was introducing you to the room and you were too focused on not passing out from the attention as you waved and gave a shy smile.

As the room returned to their conversations, the tall man made his way over to you and your friend. “Hey, mom wants you. She’s in her room.” Wait a minute. This was her brother? This was the ever-annoying Mingi she always spoke of?

“All right.” She pulled an apologetic face as she turned to you. “Just wait right here. I’ll be right back.” Then to her brother. “Mingi, can you keep her company while I’m gone?” He nodded and you felt a ball of nerves form in your stomach. You were going to be alone with her hot older brother?

As she walked away, you offered an awkward smile and looked anywhere but at him. He was far too attractive for you to act normal around. And his deep voice was doing things to you. No way could you uphold a conversation.

That was four years ago. Since then, you’d gotten comfortable at these events, which you’d learned happened several times a year on major holidays. Today was one such event and you were seated on the patio, chatting with one of the many cousins you’d come to learn were close to your age. He was a few years younger and a sweet guy. You could tell he had a crush on you but you weren’t interested. You were hyper aware of Mingi on the far side of the patio, your stomach in knots anytime you caught him looking in your direction.

Over the course of the last four years, you’d grown comfortable with the family but even more nervous around Mingi. He was even more beautiful than the day you’d first laid eyes on him and he seemed to hover nearby whenever you were around. It made you nervous even if you did love the way he seemed to be everywhere you went.

“Well, it looks like I gotta go. But I’ll text you!” The younger man stood with a smile.

You offered a bright one in return and nodded. “For sure. It was good to see you again.” You stood as well when he walked away, stretching. Then Mingi had a grip on your wrist and you startled but allowed him to pull you along. “Mingi? What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk.” His tone sent a shiver down your spine and you didn’t bother trying to pull away as he led you towards the pool house. There was no room for argument. Your gut twisted but you followed.

Once inside the cramped, dark room, he turned to you with a frown. “Mingi, seriously. What’s wrong? You’re making me nervous.”

“Good.” He said simply before crashing his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

Hello?

You didn’t fight him though. You gladly accepted his advances despite the nerves settling in your belly. When he pulled back, you tried your hardest to remain nonchalant despite the way your chest heaved. “What was that?”

“You’re not allowed to flirt with anyone else, let alone my cousin.” Was his only response before his lips were back on yours in a heated, demanding kiss. Mingi was always the shy type around you so this was entirely out of character for him. You never imagined he’d react this way to you simply chatting with his cousin, as you’d done countless times before.

You allowed him to press you back against the door, your hands moving to his sides as his lips worked yours open. His tongue swept into your mouth and your head spun. This was an entirely new side to the man you thought you knew. He was starved and you were the only thing that could sate him.

His hand came up to your jaw and you bit back a small sound at the touch, still reeling from everything that was transpiring. Finally, you pulled back just enough to take a breath and pressed your forehead to his. “What is happening?”

“I’m making it obvious why you can’t have anything to do with other men.” He whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “I’ve wanted you since the day we met.”

“She’ll kill us.”

“She’s wanted us together even longer, y/n. I told her not to tell you that I liked you.”

“Why now, Mingi?”

“Because I was too much of a coward before.” He nudged your nose again and you tipped your head back enough to meet his lips again. It was a brief peck but it was enough to send electricity shooting down your spine. “I’m tired of being afraid, y/n. I’m telling you now: you belong to me and no other man can so much as look at you the way he did. I won’t stand for it.”

“Prove that I’m yours then.” You pulled back enough to make eye contact and saw a myriad of emotions swimming in his chocolate eyes. “What other men do is none of my concern, Mingi. What matters is what you do.”

“Do you really want me to prove it? Because there’s so much I wanna do right now.”

“What do you want to do? Tell me about it.”

His eyes seemed to darken with lust and he glanced down at your lips before locking eyes with you again. “I wanna taste you. Wanna make you fall apart on my tongue and then stuff you full of my cock and make you scream my name so everyone knows you’re all mine.” He paused. “And that’s only the beginning of it.”

Your pulse ratcheted up at the confession and you found yourself nodding before you could even fully process his words. It had been a long time since anyone had laid a hand on you and the dry spell was getting to you. Your inability to say no was worsened by the fact that it was Mingi propositioning you. “Do it then. Do everything you want to do to me.”

“You don’t know what you’re signing yourself up for.” He warned even as he looked back to your lips, descending on them a moment later. His kiss was ravenous, his lips devouring yours. He tasted like candy and smoke, a combination you couldn’t comprehend but knew you wouldn’t get tired of anytime soon.

All too soon he was pulling away and leaning down to press his lips to your neck instead, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt. You reached blindly behind you to lock the door then tangled your hands in his platinum hair, your head tipping back to further expose your throat to him. He began to lift your shirt and you pressed your chest against him, arching off the door. You needed to be closer to him.

“Down girl.” He teased as he tugged your shirt up and over your head, letting out a soft breath once he saw your bare breasts. “No bra? You wanted me to lose it, didn’t you?” He accused as he leaned down to take one into his mouth while the other rested in his massive hand.

“I may have thought about the possibility a time or two.” You grinned and closed your eyes, taking in the sensation of his tongue on your nipple as your head rested against the door. He rolled the opposite nipple between his thumb and first finger and you made a small noise of appreciation. “You know, I always imagined you to be a boob guy.” You teased, gasping when his teeth caught lightly on your nipple.

“I’m a man of culture, y/n, I like it all. Boobs, ass, and thighs. And I'm about to worship every inch of you.” Then he was swapping sides as his hand dipped between your legs, cupping you through your shorts.

You bit your lip hard as you looked down to watch him work, his fingers tugging your shorts to the side and tracing your slit. Things were moving fast but you couldn’t be bothered to slow it down. You needed him to do everything he’d said and more or you feared you might lose your mind.

“Wait.” He paused and pulled back, concern etched on his face. You offered a small smile and unbuttoned your shorts, shimmying the material down your legs along with your panties. “I need you.”

“Say less.” He groaned as he dropped to his knees before you and hooked your right leg over his shoulder. “You’re so pretty, baby. So perfect. And all mine.”

“All yours.” You agreed with a nod as he leaned in, his breath fanning out over your heated core. You held his gaze as his lips molded to your pussy and you let out a high-pitched whine as his tongue met your folds. “Mingi…”

He groaned against you at your taste and set a teasing pace, his tongue gliding through your folds and flicking over your clit. It was as if he’d known your body for centuries, the way his tongue worked you. He knew exactly what to do to get a rise out of you and he was all too happy to pull out every stop.

Your hand tangled in his hair and you pulled him closer when his tongue delved into you. “Mingi-” You gasped his name and rolled your hips, grinding against his mouth. His hands held you still as he fucked into you with his tongue and you whimpered at not being allowed to move against him.

“Steady, baby.” He murmured, trying to calm you down. It didn’t work, obviously, and he hiked your other leg up over his shoulder instead.

“Fuck- don’t drop me, Mingi, I swear-” You sounded panicked as both your feet dangled at his back.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, angel. Relax. I’ve got you, babygirl.” His voice was soothing as his hands smoothed over the curve of your ass, kneading the soft flesh there a moment later. “Just hold still and let me take care of you, yeah?” You nodded despite wanting to writhe against his face and he kissed your thigh. “Good girl.”

You melted at the endearment and relaxed against the door, allowing him to fully support you as he leaned back in. His tongue was fucking heaven the way it flicked over your clit then pressed back inside you. You didn’t want anyone else to ever attempt to go down on you again after this. He was the only one whose head you’d want between your legs from then on.

His deep voice vibrated against your pussy as he groaned at your taste, his tongue now lapping at your clit. You whimpered and fought the urge to attempt to grind against him, not wanting to knock him off balance and end up on the floor. Instead, you tugged at his hair and tried to pull him closer.

“Please- oh-” Your toes curled as he sucked on your clit and your thighs squeezed tight around his head, earning another suckle and a long groan against your soaking cunt. “Mingi, oh my god- please don’t stop- fuck ‘m so close-” You babbled as the knot in your belly began to fray. Any further teasing and he’d ruin your orgasm. You needed him to see you through it.

“Cum for me, angel. Cum all over my tongue like a good girl.” He coached before leaning back in and sucking harshly on your clit, his tongue flicking wildly over the sensitive bud at the same time.

You couldn’t have held back even if you’d wanted to. Your back arched and your toes curled as you shuddered with your orgasm, white hot bliss filling your veins. You worried for a moment that you’d fall as he lurched backwards but he quickly countered your movements to steady you and continued his motions, guiding you through your orgasm.

Finally, he backed away slowly, letting one shaky leg down and then the other. “Good girl. You did so good for me.” He pressed kisses to your thighs before standing and pecking your lips. “So good. Think you can take my cock now, babygirl?” You nodded instantly, not wanting to even think about what would happen if you said no or even that you needed a break. You simply needed to be filled right then.

He instantly shucked his shorts and boxers, then lifted you from the floor and you gasped as your legs wrapped around his waist. You loved feeling small and taken care of and he was just strong enough, just large enough to make you feel so tiny and fragile. God he was large… His dick, so thick and long, was straining with interest and already leaking precum and your pussy throbbed at the thought of taking it all. You needed him.

The blunt head of his cock prodded at your entrance and you quickly shimmied down onto his length, earning a hiss. “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight…” He lightly slapped your ass and you whined softly, clenching around him. “Shit- don’t do that, I won’t last. It's too good.” He warned and you did it again, knowing exactly how to get him to lose control now.

He gave an experimental thrust and you knew this position wouldn’t work. “The table.” You looked over his shoulder, gesturing to the table positioned against the wall behind him. “Fuck me there.” It was by a window so it was risky but you didn’t care. You needed him to fuck you and you needed a stable place to do so.

As he carried you to the table, his motions sending him further into you, you peered out the window. All the children were long gone and it seemed only a handful of folks still milled about in the yard, including your friend and her parents. You let out a soft sound at the cool press of metal on your bare skin as he seated you on the table and gave a shallow thrust, letting out a low groan. “So fucking tight for me, babygirl.”

“You’re just so big.” You whined, tugging him in close with your legs. “Kiss me.” You whispered, grabbing a fistful of his royal blue shirt and pulling him down. He gladly obliged and you let out a weak moan at the taste of yourself on his lips as he snapped his hips forward.

The motion was enough to knock the air out of you and you made a pathetic noise as he set a demanding pace, his hips already slapping against your ass. He drank up your moans, muffling the sounds so as not to get caught - yet.

He fit perfectly. He was massive and the stretch was delicious. He reached places your fingers couldn’t and filled you in ways your toys never had. You’d never felt so perfectly full and cared for in your life.

Still, it wasn’t enough.

You slipped a hand between you and began to massage lazy circles on your clit. A moment later, though, your hand was gently knocked away and Mingi took over. That was a new one. No man had ever truly cared about your pleasure. No man had been so set on being the one to make you fall apart.

Until Mingi.

He pulled out suddenly and urged you to sit up. “Turn around.” He commanded and fuck if you were going to disobey. You loved taking it from behind.

You quickly complied with his orders and a moment later he was back inside, filling you in a whole new way. “Oh god-” You moaned pathetically as he reached around to toy with your clit some more.

“Not god, baby. Just your Mingi.” He crooned in your ear and you clenched around him involuntarily.

“Mine.” You agreed with a nod. “My Mingi. All mine.”

“That’s right, babygirl.” He nipped at your earlobe and your flesh puckered, your nipples tightening. “And I'm gonna make sure you never forget it.”

His words were emphasized by a sharp thrust that knocked you forwards, his thick cock abusing your dripping cunt. “I couldn’t forget this even if I wanted to, Mingi. It’s all I've wanted since the moment we met. Can’t forget it when I’m finally getting you.” You sounded breathless and whiny as you spoke.

A lewd squelching filled the cramped room as he railed you from behind and you felt the coil in your belly growing tighter with each thrust. You couldn’t help but lift your head and glance out the window to ensure you were still going unnoticed and found even less people in the yard, the group now down to one couple along with the rest of Mingi’s immediate family, who were cleaning the yard now.

“What do you see, baby?”

“They’re gone. Just a few left. Fuck-” He drove into you harder and your toes curled as your elbows buckled and dropped you back on the table. “Feels so good, Mingi!” You cried out quietly, careful not to be too loud lest you get caught.

“Yeah? You like when I fuck you like this?” His hips slammed against your ass and you heard the table hit the wall as you nodded.

“Love it so fucking much. Don’t you dare stop- oh-” He slapped your ass with his free hand just as he lightly pinched your clit and you felt your orgasm lurch closer. “Fuck, Mingi, do that again!” You gasped, fingers tightly gripping the edges of the table. Your knuckles whited in response to your death grip on the cool metal surface.

The table was now steadily knocking against the wall and you prayed you were far enough away from everyone that they wouldn’t notice. You weren’t sure if you could handle being caught.

“Oh god, Mingi- fuck ‘m so close! Please-” Before you could ask permission, you felt your orgasm washing over you.

Your walls clenched and fluttered around the thick cock inside you and you allowed yourself to fall forward onto the table, your cheek pressing against the metal as you came undone. It was intense. Your body jerked from the force of it and you continued to twitch even as you came down from it.

“Fuck- babygirl- tell me where you want it, baby.” His grunts damn near pulled another one out of you and you clenched around him intentionally.

“Inside. Want it all inside.” You whimpered, hugging his cock tightly with your sensitive cunt. The pressure was enough to drag him over the edge and he let out the most beautiful sound as he came undone, filling you to the brim with his cum.

He didn’t stop until you were so full you were dripping his release all down your thighs. When he pulled out you made a small, dissatisfied noise and stood straight. You walked on wobbly legs to gather your clothes, biting your lip when he caught you by the waist. “Let me clean you up some, baby.” His voice was roughened with sex and your head spun at the sound.

A towel was pressed against your thighs and he began to wipe up his mess. When had he had a chance to grab one from the shelf? It didn’t matter. What mattered was how his hands felt against your skin. He was so gentle with you and your heart swelled at the care he used.

When he released you, you quickly tugged your panties on and reached for your shorts. “Mingi?” You called softly as you dressed yourself. He hummed in response as you buttoned your shorts. “You know this means things can’t go back to normal, right? This changes everything.”

“That was the plan.” He grinned as he tugged his underwear and shorts back on. Once dressed, he made his way to you and helped you adjust your shirt. “I want things to be different between us, y/n. I want us to be more than acquaintances. More than friends.”

“I-I do too.” You bit your lip and looked up at him. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you from across the room.”

“Then I’m yours.” He smiled softly and pulled you against him. “All yours.” He whispered just before kissing you sweetly. You could still kind of taste yourself on his lips and it made you dizzy.

You were about to say something sweet in return when the door handle rattled. “Guys come on. Mom and dad are getting suspicious.” Your friend’s low voice came through the door. She knew you were in here all along?

[islandofsages]

Hey ! Can I ask for a male!reader that is a 4th or 3rd year at the NRC (in the dorm you want), and Yuu, Grim and Ortho after seeing him just decided to adopt him like their father ?

The reader is the definition of a good father, and Yuu, Grim and Ortho made him sign the adoption contract (give by Azul).

(Maybe the reader can be the boyfriend of Idia ?)

I just want a reverse adoption with Grim, Yuu and Ortho bc they need a good father.

characters: ortho, yuu and grim with fourth year male reader

tags: platonic, fluff, fic format

warnings: none

author's notes: sorry i didnt do the characters separately, i think they would have similar reactions. also reader isnt with idia bc im keeping this blog fairly romance-free :) thank you for giving me an excuse to write fourth year reader tho, the concept is so interesting and fun to explore!! and hes not in any specific dorm, wanted to keep it ambiguous hehe. honestly this whole thing was my own spin so word count: 974 words

You haven't gone back to NRC in a while. Despite the absolute chaos that goes on way more than often in that school, you’ve grown to harbor fondness for that familiarity. Luckily, you're due for a report of the progress of your internship. Instead of merely sending an email to your professor, you’ll go meet up with him yourself and check up on your underclassmen (maybe even get to know the freshmen) in the meantime.

You are just one of the many seniors of NRC but you found that your dorm members are quite fond of you for whatever reason. So when you come back for that short time period, a few of them come to greet you and catch up with you. Apparently, the abandoned dorm is now occupied by not one but two new students. You didn't even know there was an abandoned dorm!

“One of them can't even use magic and came from a different universe or something? And one of them is literally a magical monster! The school totally got weirder when you left, (Y/N),” one of your dorm members explains. You try to imagine it in your head. Yeah, no, if nobody told you that’s exactly what happened, you wouldn’t have known. You only believe the dorm member because you trust them enough.

“Oh, and remember Idia? The one with the robot brother? He’s a housewarden now. And his brother's a student now. He's an actual freshman,” more gossip makes their way to you. Your eyes widen at the news. You feel like you may remember them, the Shroud brothers - you could tell Idia was trying really hard to stay on the down low so you did him a favor and left him alone for the most part.

You don’t stay at your dorm for very long - you did come to NRC for a reason - and that was to send in that report of yours. Though you already dropped it off before checking up on your underclassmen, you plan just walking around school and taking in the sights that were once so familiar to you. And you haven’t even really graduated yet.

You walk down the hallways and say hi to whoever you recognize, basking in that comfortable familiarity. Some friendlier students stop to chat with you and to be perfectly honest, you feel a little old compared to everyone. You don’t mind but what’s rubbing it in is how some of the students are calling you “Dad” to tease you. You know they’re being playful for the most part but you can’t help but feel a little awkward with the nickname.

Then you run into those three.

You recognize the younger Shroud brother - hard not to with his flames for hair - but you can only guess the other two are the new students occupying that abandoned dorm; one’s uniform seems foreign and the other is not even remotely humanoid. They're definitely eye-catching, especially together. And apparently, you're pretty eye-catching too, with the way they lay their eyes on you while you were talking to another student.

The younger Shroud brother leads the group as they make their way to you excitedly. You're already preparing yourself for what you assume is a normal conversation with these kids. Too bad normal is the wrong thing to expect from these three, you will come to know.

“(Y/N)! You’re back at school!” The younger Shroud - Ortho, that’s his name - exclaims as he flies slightly upwards, happy to see you again. The other two look at you curiously, head tilted to the side and all. You offer them a jolly laugh as you tell the other two who you are and update all of them of how your internship is going. They’re eerily silent when you’re relaying your story but you appreciate not being interrupted. ‘What polite freshmen,’ you thought.

Until they aren’t, because they interrupt you with-

“Can you adopt us?!”

Their eyes twinkle as they clasp their hands together and gaze at you with their best puppy-eye look. Oh, they’re being genuine. This is escalating way too quickly - the nickname was weird enough, you’re not sure what to feel about a bunch of age-ambiguous freshmen wanting a fellow (though presumably older) student to adopt them. You sigh and put on your best smile so as to not disappoint them.

Truth be told, it really isn’t as bad or weird as it sounds. People were already teasing you about it so might as well run along with it. But still. Legally adopting these freshmen would still be too much for you to handle. After all, you’re still going to be preoccupied with your internship. You won’t be present for most of their school years and the last thing you want to be is a father who forgot to bring the milk back home.

You tell them you will think about it, in case they were actually joking and you’re somehow dumb enough to not catch on. They agree to allow you to take your time… but then they start muttering about “getting a contract from Azul” and you immediately step in to stop them from taking any drastic measures.

After that whole ordeal, you leave school more exhausted than you thought you would be. After all, three freshmen literally asked you to become their father and adopt them and were about to get you to agree to some contract.  But then, you find out, they turn out to be the best children you’ve ever had. 

They can be a handful, sure - Ortho is way too curious for his own good sometimes, Grim can’t sit still and picks fights with people often, and Yuu is… Yuu. Being a single father is definitely not the easiest thing to do with them as your children.

Yet you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

[novaursa]

Can you please do Jacaerys x male reader who is daemon oldest son, we’re Jace admires reader and they fall in love

Valyrian Hearts

- Summary: Jacaerys makes a confession that changes your world, and his.

- Paring: male!reader/Jacaerys Velaryon

- Note: The reader is Daemon's oldest son.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @literaturedog

The wind was fierce on Dragonstone, whipping against the castle walls and through the narrow corridors with the sharp bite of sea salt. The air was thick with the scent of ash and brine, and the deep rumble of dragons echoed through the craggy cliffs like thunder. You had grown accustomed to the sound, the heartbeat of the ancient island that now housed your family—though it seemed larger now, fuller. Daemon had brought you here with his daughters, and with Rhaenyra's brood, the keep was filled with the footsteps of children and the murmur of voices plotting the future of the realm.

Jacaerys was among them, his presence always a steady one. You had known him most of your life, seen him grow from an awkward boy into a young man with the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders. You had never thought much of it, not until recently.

You stood on the blackened stones of the courtyard, Vermithor’s massive form looming behind you. His bronze scales gleamed in the dim light of the afternoon, and you ran a hand over his side, feeling the heat of him seep into your skin. He huffed, a great cloud of steam escaping his nostrils, and you chuckled, whispering soothing words in High Valyrian.

“Y/N.”

You turned at the sound of your name, or rather, the closest approximation to it since your family had taken to calling you by your title more often. Jacaerys stood a few paces away, his dark eyes bright in the grey light, a hesitant smile on his lips.

“Jace,” you greeted, stepping away from Vermithor. “What brings you out here?”

“I thought I might join you,” he said, gesturing awkwardly to the dragon behind you. “I’ve never seen Vermithor up close.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “I thought you’d be more interested in Syrax or Caraxes.”

Jacaerys shook his head, a lock of dark hair falling into his eyes. “They’re both magnificent, but there’s something about Vermithor… He’s a legend.”

You glanced back at your dragon, who was watching Jacaerys with an almost curious expression. “He’s old, and wise. He’s seen more than most of us ever will.” You paused, then added, “Do you want to come closer?”

Jacaerys hesitated, then nodded. You held out a hand, and he took it, his grip warm and firm. Together, you approached Vermithor, and you felt a thrill of pride as your dragon lowered his massive head, allowing Jacaerys to place a tentative hand on his snout.

“He’s… incredible,” Jacaerys breathed, his eyes wide with awe.

“He is,” you agreed softly, watching the way his fingers brushed against the bronze scales, gentle and reverent. “He’s the largest living dragon after Vhagar.”

“I wish Vermax would grow like this,” Jacaerys said, a note of longing in his voice.

You chuckled. “Give him time. He’s still young.”

Jacaerys smiled, but there was a wistfulness in his gaze that made your chest tighten. You squeezed his hand, and he looked up at you, his expression suddenly vulnerable.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice quieter now, almost uncertain. “I… I wanted to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here,” he said, his words tumbling out in a rush. “For being… you. You’re strong, like your father, but you’re kind, too. You’ve always been kind to me, even when you didn’t have to be.”

You blinked, taken aback. “Of course I’m kind to you, Jace. You’re family.”

“I know,” he said, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “But it means more to me than you know.”

Something in his tone made your heart beat faster. You had always seen Jacaerys as a younger brother, someone to protect and guide, but now, standing so close, his eyes locked on yours, you realized there was more to his gaze than simple gratitude.

“Jace, I—”

Whatever you were about to say was lost as he stepped closer, his hand still clasped in yours, his body radiating warmth in the cool air. You could feel his breath against your cheek, and the intensity of his gaze made your stomach flutter.

“I don’t know when it happened,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the distant roar of the sea. “But I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your mind racing. This was Jacaerys, the boy you had watched grow up, the son of your father’s wife, the cousin you had sworn to protect. But the way he looked at you now, the way his hand tightened around yours, it was clear that his feelings were not those of a boy, but of a man.

“Jace…” you began, struggling to find the right words.

He shook his head, cutting you off. “I know it’s wrong. I know you probably don’t feel the same, but I had to tell you. I had to…”

You could see the fear in his eyes, the worry that he had ruined something precious between you. And in that moment, you knew that no matter what you said, no matter how you felt, you could never hurt him.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice thick with emotion. “I’ve never thought of us like that.”

He nodded, his gaze dropping to the ground. “I understand.”

You lifted your hand, cupping his cheek, forcing him to look at you. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t.”

His eyes widened, hope and disbelief warring in his expression. “Really?”

You smiled, a small, tentative thing. “Really.”

For a long moment, you just stood there, the world around you fading into the background. Vermithor rumbled softly, a sound that seemed almost approving, and you laughed, the sound breaking the tension between you.

“Come on,” you said, tugging Jacaerys towards the keep. “Let’s get out of this wind.”

He followed you without question, his hand still in yours, his expression dazed and hopeful. As you walked, you couldn’t help but wonder what the future would hold, but for now, with Jacaerys by your side and the warmth of his smile chasing away the chill, you felt something you hadn’t in a long time.

Peace.

The great hall of Dragonstone was bathed in the flickering glow of candlelight as preparations for your departure were underway. The air was filled with the rustle of servants moving to and fro, packing provisions and laying out maps of the Vale and the North. You watched from the side, arms crossed, as Rhaenyra discussed the details with Daemon. Her voice was firm, her gaze fierce. The realms you were venturing to were not just allies to be gained but key players in a war that loomed over the horizon like a dark storm.

Jacaerys stood beside you, his face a mixture of excitement and apprehension. He had been assigned this task to prove himself, to show that he was worthy of the mantle that would one day be his. You knew the weight of that expectation well. You felt it every time your father looked at you, every time he spoke of the Targaryen legacy.

"Are you ready for this?" you asked, your voice low enough that only Jacaerys could hear.

He glanced at you, his expression softening. "I think so. I’ve been to the Vale before, but never the North. There’s so much riding on this.”

You nodded, feeling a pang of sympathy. “It’s a lot to bear. But you’re not alone in this, Jace. We’re doing this together.”

He smiled at that, a small, genuine smile that lit up his eyes. “I know. And that makes it easier.”

The hall began to clear as Rhaenyra and Daemon dismissed the attendants, leaving just the two of you and a handful of guards. Rhaenyra approached, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of pride and worry.

“Y/N,” she said, her voice carrying a note of warning. “Take care of your cousin. The North is no place for mistakes.”

“Neither is the Vale,” Daemon added, his gaze sharp. “Don’t underestimate the Eyrie. The Arryns have a long memory.”

You nodded, meeting their gazes steadily. “I will. We will.”

Rhaenyra’s expression softened, and she reached out, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Be safe, both of you,” she murmured, her voice muffled against your shoulder. “And come back to me.”

You hugged her back, feeling the familiar ache of leaving, even if only for a short time. “We will,” you promised.

After a few more words of advice and caution, Rhaenyra and Daemon took their leave, and the hall emptied, leaving just you and Jacaerys. He shifted beside you, glancing at the packs of supplies that had been set out for the journey.

“Do you think they’ll listen to us?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with uncertainty. “The lords of the North and the Vale?”

“They will,” you said firmly. “If we show them the strength and resolve of our house, they’ll see that allying with us is their best hope.”

He looked at you, his eyes searching. “And if they don’t?”

“Then we make them see,” you replied, your tone brooking no argument. “We’re Targaryens, Jace. We don’t bend.”

Jacaerys let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing a fraction. “I wish I had your confidence.”

You turned to face him fully, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You do, Jace. You just need to believe in yourself. You’re stronger than you think.”

He looked down, his gaze fixed on where your hand rested against him. When he looked up again, there was something different in his eyes, something intense and unspoken.

“Y/N, I…” He hesitated, then shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “Never mind.”

You frowned, not quite understanding. “What is it?”

He opened his mouth to speak, then seemed to think better of it. “It’s nothing. Just… thank you. For being here. For doing this with me.”

You studied him for a moment, wondering what it was he wasn’t saying. But whatever it was, he clearly wasn’t ready to share it. So you simply nodded, squeezing his shoulder before letting your hand fall away.

“We should get some rest,” you said. “We have a long flight ahead of us.”

He nodded, but neither of you moved. The silence stretched between you, heavy with things unsaid. Finally, he took a step closer, his gaze locked on yours.

“I’m glad it’s you,” he murmured, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. “I’m glad it’s you by my side.”

Something tightened in your chest, and you found yourself unable to look away from him. The world seemed to shrink, the flickering candles and dark shadows of the hall fading into nothingness. It was just the two of you, standing there, the distance between you suddenly feeling like an insurmountable chasm.

“Jace, I—”

Before you could finish, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a featherlight kiss. It was quick, almost hesitant, and when he pulled back, his eyes were wide, his expression a mix of fear and hope.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, his cheeks flushing. “I shouldn’t have—”

You silenced him with a kiss of your own, your hand coming up to cradle the back of his neck. It was a deeper kiss, more certain, and he melted into it, his hands gripping your arms as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

When you finally pulled away, you were both breathing hard, your foreheads resting against each other’s. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you charged with an intensity that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“We’re doing this together,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Whatever happens, we’re doing this together.”

He nodded, his hands still clutching your arms. “Together.”

You stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, the world outside the castle walls seeming distant and unimportant. Whatever awaited you in the North and the Vale, you would face it together. And for the first time, you felt like you truly understood what that meant.

It wasn’t just about duty or loyalty. It was about him. About you. About whatever it was that had been building between you for so long.

Tomorrow, you would take flight, carrying the hopes and dreams of your family with you. But tonight, in the quiet of Dragonstone, all that mattered was the feel of his lips against yours, the warmth of his body pressed close, and the knowledge that, whatever the future held, you wouldn’t face it alone.

[causenessus]

try again

part 0.4. NEXT TIME

"the playground seemed so big when they were younger. and now they’re here again, 10 years later, and it looks small. their world is bigger than just this playset now. the metal that forms the foundation of the structure is still a shiny, vibrant red, but the cracked, faded plastic shows its age. where has time gone? 'who are you now?' she wants to ask. as a kid, time goes by slowly, and you tell your parents you can’t wait to grow old. they tell you to enjoy your childhood, but you never believe them. and even now, she’s not sure she does. she's not old, but old enough to know time goes by fast. since their meeting in her office, she’s reflected more on how she’s grown up. she doesn’t miss her childhood– she likes the freedom that has come with adulthood, but at the same time, it’s slowly weighing her down. she’s old enough, that she can no longer spend her summers relaxed in a quiet house, laying in bed all day with the door open while both her parents are at work. she can't spend the nights stretched out on her back, against wet, dewy grass, looking at the stars with him while staining her favorite shirt. now she has responsibilities to take care of every day, and any little mistake can no longer be taken back. she’s an adult now, and no one is there to pick her up when she falls."

content warnings + notes: calling atsumu a little cupid whore (/lh), drinking, y/n is having a crisis, pay attention to unsent messages :) very long written part... oops </3

she downs the last of her glass in one go. 

it’s cheap whiskey, and she hates the taste. it’s probably the worst she’s ever had, but the burn down her throat is a little pleasant. 

completely going against her plan to drink something light, she decided she would need some liquid courage if she was going to do this. her hands are splayed across the cold bar counter as she stands from her chair, mind buzzing a little as she grounds herself. 

akaashi doesn’t notice her absence in his drunken state, but iwaizumi does. kita looks up as well, but remains seated, keeping akaashi company after nodding to iwaizumi who stands up.

“where are you going?” he asks following her out of the bar, pushing past a few groups of people in their way. he's not asking it like he's accusing her of anything, he just sounds concerned.

but he doesn’t need to worry, and she faces him as they make it out. “going to see omi,” she practically sings the answer, her voice careless as the nickname spills out of her mouth before she even realizes it. it comes too naturally to her, and the thought ruins the nice numbness in her veins from the alcohol. instead, she starts to feel the guilt build up again.

iwaizumi still stands in front of her, arms crossed, matching her own stance. “you’re going to see sakusa?” he repeats, brows raised.

“mhm,” she hums, shifting from one foot to the other. her shoes are starting to bother her, too. she'll probably take them off as soon as iwaizumi lets her go.

“where?”

she sighs, starting to feel restless just standing there. the warm lights and ruckus from inside the bar invite her back in, and so does the pull she feels in the opposite direction down the street, where she'll see him. “an old park, can i go?”

“no, hold on,” he stops her before she can even take a step, “you’re going to go meet a man you haven’t talked to in years after a single interaction at a park this late at night?”

“yes?” she quirks a brow at him, “it’s an old park we used to go to a lot. it’s not far from here and i know him. i’ll be okay.”

“i’m not saying sakusa’s going to do anything to you, but i’m not letting you walk there alone. especially when you’ve been drinking. let me make sure you get there safely and then i’ll leave you, deal?” he proposes, and she sees how much he cares in his eyes. they’re a pretty olive green and despite how sharp they are, there’s so much love in them. it reminds her of her own eyes, and how she feels when she looks at sakusa; her head starts to panic in alarm and get defensive, but at the same time, her heart slows down, as if telling her he's safe.

she knows iwaizumi makes a good point, and there’s nothing wrong with having a little extra safety, or a human purse. “fine,” she sighs, “but only if you hold my shoes.”

their walk to the park is silent, but it’s a peaceful silence. she’s walking next to him barefoot, feeling even shorter than before. he questions her a few times, to make sure she actually knows where she’s going, and she insists that she does. she’s had a little bit to drink, yes, but she’s not drunk. and she's confident she could still find her way to this park blindfolded. she’s walked these sidewalks hundreds of times, ran to this park from every direction and route possible. it was always their spot, whether they lay in the wet grass or sat on the playset. the memories of being with him back then make her feel a little grim, and iwaizumi looks down at her, noticing.

“you okay?” he asks, nudging her shoulder closest to him with his arm.

“yeah,” she sighs, watching the way her shoes clank against each other in his hand with every step they take.

“what’re you thinking?” he asks, still looking down at her and she looks back up at him.

“i just don’t know what i’m doing,” she says, trying to voice her feelings while she turns to stare back ahead of them. “what are we gonna do? what does he like doing now? what if i’ve changed and he doesn’t like who i am anymore? i'm so scared of disappointing him.”

“you’re good enough as you are, y/n,” he silences her and she glances back at him in surprise. “don’t let a man change how you see yourself. you’re good as you are, and if he doesn’t think so, he can fuck off. there's no such thing as an expectation or a right way for you to act. he’s probably changed too, and that’s just how people work. did he text you or did you text him?”

she gives him a smile at his words, nudging him back with her shoulder as a way of thanking him, “he texted me.”

he gives her a grin at that, “he texted you? asking to see you?” when she nods he continues, "damn that's ballsy. he really wants you, y/n. and i hope he's a good person. i’ve seen him around and worked a little bit with him, he seems alright.”  

she flusters a little bit at his words, “i’m sure it’s not like that. we just used to be very good friends, you know that. i’ve never stopped missing him, maybe he felt a little bit of the same way.”

he nods at her words, giving a hum in thought. they’re walking along the fence that’s been set up around the park, and she can see the entrance coming up, where a lone lamp post is lighting the way. “but you want him, don’t you?”

she knows he’s asking it in a romantic sense, and she does. she knows what she feels for him is more than just friendly, and she’s felt stupid for never being able to fall in love with anyone else because she’s been stuck on him this entire time. “i’m happy with anything,” she decides to say, “if we start hanging out again, that’s enough for me. i just want him to be a part of my life.”

they stop at the park entrance, and she can see the playset from here, just a bit down the path. “do you want me to walk you there? or are you’re fine from here? i think the walk helped you sober up a little bit, so i feel better about leaving you here now. just make sure you text me if you feel even slightly off, got it?”

“got it!” she responds with a smile, giving him a small salute as a joke. “thank you for walking me here, iwa. i'll be fine on my own now and i’ll text you when i'm walking home.”

he rolls his eyes at the salute but gives her a smile, “sounds good. i’ll check in with you then as well. i might come meet you halfway or who knows, maybe your guy will want to walk you home?”

he’s giving her another shitty grin that she’d like to slap off his face, and it’s her turn to roll her eyes, “whatever, iwa. see you in a little bit.”

she pulls him into a hug, trying to tell him all her feelings at once, thanking him for his advice and for walking her here, and he’s quick to reciprocate it, rubbing her back for a second before they pull away. he gives her her shoes and waves her off, making sure she steps onto the playground before he leaves, and she sees him.

tonight, it seems they’ll be sitting on the top of the playset, above a tube that connects one platform to another. she steps up onto one of the platforms first, dropping her shoes on it before clambering on top of the structure.

he offers her a hand after watching her (probably ungraceful) climb which she hesitates to take for a second. her heart feels like it's trying to escape her chest as she takes it, the contact sending chills along her skin.

“hi,” she whispers after she's sat down, stealing a glance at him, unsure of where to start.

“hi,” he says back, already looking at her. he looks better than when she saw him last, but perhaps that's just because today has been better for him. there are still bags under his eyes that she can see despite the lack of light around them, but she can also see that his eyes look brighter today. she wants to mention it, say she’s glad to see that he looks like he's doing well today, but she shouldn’t. it’s too early–

“you look good today.”

the words spill out of her mouth and she immediately slaps a hand over it. she had drank more after texting him purposefully, knowing that it would mess with her ability to reason and this was the consequence, although she wasn't sure yet if it was a positive or negative one.

he laughs in response, giving her a small smile that she hasn’t seen in years. she missed seeing it; she missed him.

“thank you,” he says, holding her gaze and she’s unable to look away, “you look good too. although maybe a little drunk.”

her cheeks are burning red and she feels hot despite the fact that she was practically shivering the entire way here, latching onto iwaizumi and his body heat. “no i– well– yes, i have been drinking but i didn’t mean it that way– i mean you do look good–” she has to take a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, “i meant you look happier today, sorry.”

he’s still looking at her, smiling. and maybe it’s a tiny bit bigger than it was before, and she smiles back.

she has no idea it’s because of her–that he seems happier today. he’s only just found her again after so many years apart, and yet he’s glad she’s in his life again. this is only the second time they’ve seen each other after so long, and she’s already had this big of an impact on him. and maybe it was due to atsumu’s influence, and the way that he kept bringing her up, and how it had been their entire conversation over dinner, but he didn’t really care. he was happy to be talking about her again, and to see her again. they had been so close, and it felt strangely nostalgic whenever he saw her, as if he was a child again, tossing and turning on a bed stand, sick to his stomach for home.

but he had been homesick for her this entire time, and he didn’t want to talk about her as if their time together had passed; he wanted to be close to her again. but only if she let him: “that guy you came here with, are you guys–”

“oh, no no no,” she immediately cuts him off, shaking her head before he gets the wrong idea. “he’s just a friend. my roommates and i went out to dinner today and then we went drinking. he just didn’t want me to walk here alone.”

he nods, feeling strangely relieved to hear that. “i just came from eating out with my roommates, too. i cut it short because one of them was being annoying.”

she hums in thought, a smile breaking out on her face, “hm, that can’t possibly be atsumu, can it?”

he can’t even joke back, just rolls his eyes with a sigh at the mention of his friend.

“i just texted him earlier tonight. finally scolded him for setting up that entire meeting between us. i mean– who even thinks to do something like that?”

“just him. he’s got one brain cell working for him and it’s got a funny way of working,” sakusa responds, looking forward to the field in front of them. they used to spin around on that field, trying to stay standing the longest before they both fell onto wet grass, too dizzy to keep standing. “i think it worked out nice, but there were definitely other ways he could have planned that out.”

she can’t help but look at him, slightly surprised. so he was happy to see her? perhaps she should’ve understood that by now; here they were sitting side by side on an old playset. “yeah, it did,” she can’t help but say, not even thinking twice about agreeing with him. “and if you don’t mind me bringing it up, do you think you will come back for a second meeting? i was just wondering.”

“yeah, i’m thinking about it,” he answers, still not looking at her, and she thinks maybe she shouldn’t have asked the question. she’s brought the topic of conversation back to her job, and reminded herself of everything she shouldn’t be doing right now. she shouldn’t be doing any of this. she’s looking forward to seeing him in her office again, but she shouldn’t. she should be treating him as a client, not as an old face or a silly old crush. and she shouldn’t be seeing him outside of the office; it ruins that professional relationship she should be trying to maintain. she's giving into him too easily, even after he had been the one to accuse her of something hurtful upon their first words to each other in years.

a particularly cold wind blows through and she shivers, breathing in sharply as her shoulders raise towards her ears on instinct, trying to protect them from the cold. in her defense, she hadn't foreseen sitting on a playset in the middle of the night today and had not dressed accordingly.

“are you cold?” he asks, hand already reaching towards the open black jacket he was wearing, a plain white shirt underneath.

she’s looking at him, face completely blank. her mind is so far gone, thinking about countless other things, including every single way this interaction could go. ‘what was she even doing here? why did she agree to come?’ the moment he texted her she put up little to no resistance. she lasted one text, trying to set up a boundary between them to prevent herself from getting hurt and then completely dropped it. how could he be so casual about seeing her again? was their friendship something shallow to him? something he could easily replace or come back to?

he’s saying her name, and her mind returns to the boy in front of her, blinking twice before responding, “sorry. i was just thinking about something. i’m fine. you don’t need to give me your jacket or anything.”

“but if i want to?” he asks and this is where she failed last time, and will fail again, and will always fail, because she can never resist him.

“i–”

the jacket is already around her shoulders before she knows it. it’s warm, and the weight of it on top of her shoulders is comforting. the smell of him is enveloping all of her senses and her entire mind, and she squeezes her eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but it.

it was simple, and really not that heavy or distinctive of a smell. just clean clothes–his detergent, and maybe a hint of lemon or lavender. it was easy to get used to, and it had become familiar to her after being around him so long in the past, but she hadn’t smelled it in so long, she felt like she was suffocating now. with the smell came so many memories associated with him, and it took everything in her not to let out a shaky breath, giving away her emotions.

he didn’t know what to say, looking at her. her chin was resting on top of her knees, pulled up close against her chest, and her eyes were closed, brows furrowed as if she was trying desperately to hold something in. had he come off too strongly? he liked to think he still knew her, could read her mind, tell when she was cold, and when she needed something, but maybe he was wrong, or just moving too fast. maybe she didn’t feel the same way, and didn’t want to be friends again.

“thanks,” she murmurs finally, eyes opening again, although she’s staring at the ground below them, and he’s unsure of where to look–at her, or the ground as well.

“yeah,” he replies, and the conversation falls quiet between them again.

it’s almost comfortable between them. it would be if she wasn't feeling like she was ruining everything and only digging herself a bigger hole. maybe they went quiet because he was sick of her now, and regretted asking to see her. and should she even care or not? should she get up and leave right now? what was the right thing to do right now, objectively? not what was right according to her heart, but according to her head?

she should be keeping her distance from him, not allowing him to get closer, giving him the chance to hurt her again. he had let them get distant, she reminded herself. he had let their friendship crumble without saying a word, he didn’t see her the way she saw him, and she couldn’t rely on him to be there for her.

“how are you?” he breaks the silence, and the question sets off every nerve in her body. it’s like her mind is being torn in two, trying to find an answer to the simple question. it’s not really that simple– he’s asking it, referring to the last 10 years of her life, and he’s asking her to be vulnerable and share about herself, and she can’t do that.

“don’t do that to me,” she says, shutting her eyes again.

“do what?” he’s looking at her, at his jacket draped around her shoulders, and shoves his hands in his pockets, trying to hold himself back from reaching out to fix her hair, which has been slightly caught underneath the jacket. 

she lets out a heavy, quiet breath, “don’t ask me that– like you care.”

“i do care,” he responds immediately, and she’s sure if she looked up at him, he’d be looking at her. but if she looks at him, she’ll break.

“we shouldn’t be doing this. we can’t be doing this. i shouldn’t be seeing you outside of my office. i listened to you talk about your struggles for an hour that you would've otherwise paid for if it wasn't the first meeting. you can’t turn around and ask how i am for free. that’s not fair. we should be nothing more than a therapist and a client. it’s easier for me to look at you that way because–” her voice gets caught in her throat for a second as she tries to talk confidently, but her voice gives away her feelings. she sounds like she’s on the verge of tears before they even reach her eyes, but she blinks through them, “because i look at you and still see what we used to be. but so much happened between us, and then you left, and that still hurts.”

‘then will you let me make it up to you? then can we go back to what we were before? and can we be more?’ the words are heavy in his head, and too forward to say out loud, but he has to say something. he has to say something now because he didn’t say anything back then.

he had always assumed that she had just been disappearing from his life altogether–from his notifications, the school hallways, and his walks home, but he realized now she had done that on purpose. she had purposely removed herself from his life so they would never see each other, and he had never stopped her. of course she hadn’t believed him, when he had said it was good to see her in her office, and of course she hadn’t fully understood what his ulterior motives were when he texted her out of the blue about wanting to see her again, because he had never showed how much he cared back then. but he had to tell her now that she was worth everything.

“i don’t mind paying it,” he ends up saying, and finally gets her to look at him, “i don’t mind paying to see you for an hour. i’d pay to be around you anyday, especially if you’re going to refuse to see me anywhere else, then i’ll just force you to put up with me for an hour every week.”

she laughs with a shake of her head, “you’re not forcing me to see you. i want to see you outside of that time…i just–i shouldn’t.”

“why not?” he can’t help but ask. “you’re still friends with atsumu, too. you text him outside of your appointments all the time.”

“yes but–” i like you more than a friend. hell, i’ve been in love with you for the past 10 years of my life. actually, probably for even longer, but who’s even counting at this point– she takes a deep breath again. she should leave soon, and think about this. she’s going to end up letting him convince her if she keeps listening to him, “maybe next time. i’ll tell you how i’ve been next time, okay?”

she’s giving him a next time, and he’ll take whatever he can get. they can start slow again. being her client is like being her acquaintance. people are always acquaintances before they’re friends; they can grow from here.

"when is next time?" he responds quickly, realizing it sounds like she’s going to stand up and leave soon, but he's not losing sight of her again.

she avoids looking at him, keeping her knees are pulled to her chest as she picks at the worn-down plastic of the playground tube they're sitting on, "i don't know, sakusa. i really need time to think about all of this. i don’t know what i’m doing here, or why i showed up tonight.”

her words feel like a burn in his lungs, but even when his sides are aching on his morning runs, he keeps going. "but you showed up anyway."

she finally looks at him, and he swears he could get lost in her eyes forever. he can’t believe he went through their entire friendship without telling her how beautiful she was, in every single way. he can’t believe he ever let go of her. perhaps that cliche saying was true, that you never know how important something really is until you lose it.

"i did," she echoes, continuing to stare into his own eyes.

"are you going to leave?" he asks, unable to look away.

she looks back down at the threads of green plastic she was pulling at, and his eyes follow. they used to meet at this playset all the time. during the summer, when she’d sleep over, they’d stay up until three in the morning, and then she’d nudge him about sneaking out. he used to worry about what would happen if his parents checked on them and saw that they were gone if they sneaked out, but she always ended up convincing him in the end. they rarely fought or had disagreements. with enough talking, they always managed to persuade the other to agree with them.

“i am. because we both need time to think. you need to think about if you’re going to see me again for therapy and i just need to think. about everything," she replies, and he watches her grab the edge of the tube, steadying herself as she moves to stand before he slides himself off the tube onto the ground below. it’s not that far of a drop for him now, although it was the scariest drop ever as a kid. now he stands eye level with most of the playset, but she's looking at him like it's still that big of a fall, mouth slightly agape in surprise.

“i’ll help you down,” he says with a smile and she blinks.

“no, i’m fine–” her words die out as he looks at her, brows raised in expectancy. this is what he meant: they were always able to push the other to do something, no matter how much they tried to resist in the beginning.

she lets out a sigh, trying to buy time as she fixes her skirt, preparing herself to slip off the tube. it really shouldn't be that scary, but she exclaims as she drops, barely registering the hands on the sides of her waist that catch her while her own clamp down on his shoulders.

her face is red as he lowers her down gently to the ground. whether it’s from the embarrassing noise she let out or the fact that he caught her, she’s not sure. maybe it’s both. even when he lets go of her, she can feel his hands on her still, as if they've been permanently etched into her skin. he’s looking down at her, and there’s a hint of playfulness in his eyes and the smile on his lips. he's too close to her, and she can't stop looking at his lips so she looks down at the ground instead, clutching at the jacket around her shoulders before she remembers it’s not hers.

“oh, here’s your jacket back,” she starts, moving to take off the piece of clothing before he stops her with a hand over he own.

“you can keep it for a little longer if you– if you let me walk you home,” he says, on the verge of losing all of his confidence, but he just can’t let go of her. he doesn't want to watch her leave, but he knows she needs a break.

she looks up at him, feeling like her lips are quivering with how nervous and flustered she feels, “you don’t have to do that, really. i can walk home by myself.”

“but if i want to?”

it’s a repeat of a conversation they had earlier, because she can never give him a complete no, and he always knows to take that as a yes.

she’s ruining everything she’s trying to do for herself right now. she’s trying to set a boundary between them, and horribly failing. because what if he walks her home, and he happens to live nearby again? what if they start to see each other more often? or worst of all, what if he ends up leaving again?

well what if he doesn’t?

oh, whatever.

fuck the what ifs.

they can try again.

.

.

.

"it's gonna rain soon / and pull me back in.

"i had the words / you thought a hundred times

"oh darlin' / will you still walk me back home?'"

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extras <3

not really any extras! i just hope u enjoyed <3 and that this chapter was good and not too long or just a bunch of rambles!! i had like three ideas i had randomly wrote down and then just copied and pasted into this chapter and was trying to make them all fit 😭

IWAIZUMI AND Y/N HAVE A PLATONIC SIBLING-TYPE RELATIONSHIP!!! JUST MAKING THAT CLEAR also i'm a sucker for iwaizumi but that's besides the point

omi just kind of got up and left at some point during dinner when atsumu got tipsy and started talking to shoyo and bo. he said goodbye to osamu and then left

they all have each other's locations anyway and shoyo and bokuto trust him to know what he's doing

kita, akaashi, and iwa ended up going home soon after iwa got back from walking y/n to the park and then he and kita stayed up all night waiting for her to come home while akaashi was passed out <3

this fic lowkey goes a little bit off the rails!! but hopefully u guys enjoy it <33

AND I KEEP FORGETTING TO SAY ANYTHING ABOUT THIS I'VE KIND OF LOST IT NOW!! but y/n's pfp is a pufferfish because they symbolize protecting yourself and setting boundaries <3 interpret that as u will

taglist: @eggyrocks @wyrcan @guitarstringed-scars @strawberryuri @violetesensou @kakeru-eem @glmge @heytheredemonsss @mollyrolls @bemebiu @daszy @snail-squasher @0moonii @thiisisntlovely @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @iiwaijime @iatethemochi @yuminako @savemebrazilhinata @kismyscars @bokutoko @nobodybutnnoorr @wolffmaiden @daisy-room @softpia @lees-chaotic-brain @v3nusplanetofluv @crispchocolates @phoenix-eclipses @hhoneyhan @encrypta @rockleeisbaeeee @cr4yolaas @zombriesworld @localgaytrainwreck @moucheslove @hibernatinghamster @notverymarley @certaindreampost @akaakeis @ciderscape @lucien-luna @strawbrinkofdeath @wave2mia @samuel1004 @01trickster10 @dazqa @cosmiicdust @chemiru

[madebyrolo]

Chapter 8

ᨒ↟ ⋆｡° ᨒ↟ ⋆｡° ᨒ↟ ⋆｡°

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

They boys head to their makeshift field and decided on the teams while the girls sit in their little area they made.

“Alright Me and Sam are captains. I get first pick” Embry said. He played on his schools team so he takes these games seriously. The teams are Emry, Jake, Quill ,Tyler and Sam, Paul, Seth,Jared

“Doesn’t it seem unfair. I mean Paul and Sam they are obviously bigger than the rest of them” y/n said concerned

“Yea but Embry knows the game well and him and Quil are an unbeatable duo.” Emily said

“Wait who’s gonna be the ref?” Seth asked

“Oo my sister can do it, She used to play when she was younger she knows the game right y/n!” Tyler said with pleading eyes. This is the only time she’s seen him this sweet.

“Fine I guess.” She gets up and heads to the boys.

“Y/n no cheating family doesn’t mean anything on the field.” Paul said looking at her with a smirk

“Yea but I don’t know i heard some things about Embry and Quil, I don’t think Tyler would be a problem.” Y/n snarked backed

The game starts and so far they’re playing fair. Couple minutes past and Emily was right about Embry and Quil they are kicking their asses. It’s 2-1 right now and they haven’t even hit halftime yet.

“Guys I’m not gonna lie, as grown men this is pretty embarrassing.” Emily commented

“I second that” Bella agreed

“They’re younger they have more energy and better stamina” Jared said

“No you guys suck.” said y/n

Finally after what felt like forever it’s halftime.

“That was literally the most sad first half I’ve seen.” Y/n said.

“Come on we didn’t know Seth would’ve been a terrible goalie.” Jared said

“He looked at y/n once and caused us a point.” Sam said

“He was practically gawking at you” Paul said with disgust

“I can’t help it look at her skin it’s sun kissed!”

“Stop looking at her toes!”

“But they’re pink and glittery….” Seth wined

“Alright guys it’s 3-1 let’s just call it quits” Jared said

“Yea I don’t wanna cry for Paul when you guys lose” y/n said

“Aww you’ll cry for me. That’s so sweet I’m touched!” Paul replied with a sarcastic smile

“Alright so you guys forfeit ?” Jacob asked mischievous smile

“Never” Paul replied with a smirk

“Come on Paul I wanna swim before the sun goes down!” Y/n said falling into him. Paul looked at her in her pleading soft eyes and before he could think he said

“We forfeit.”

“NOO PAUL WHY” Jared yelled at him falling on the sand. Paul instantly remembered why they didn’t forfeit.

“Cant blame him” Sam said going up to Emily with a kiss

“Oh my god why so dramatic about it, it’s just a game!” Bella commented

“We a team forfeits they have to take out shifts for the rest of the week.” Jacob said proudly

“What do mean shifts?” Bella asked. They all looked at Sam trying to figure out what they could telll the 2 girls who couldn’t know about the shifting.

“Um well you know It’s who has to clean up after every feast Emily cooks for us!” Sam said trying to convince them

“It’s literally just cleaning up how lazy can you guys be” y/n said

“Yea but they aren’t crazy like animals they eat like them too.” Emily complained

“Well I’m off to swim!” Y/n said throwing off her shirt at Seth and running to the shore. Seth stared at her in awe this just made his crush on her worse.

“Woah baby she’s hot.”

“Watch it.” Paul growled

“Easy Paul.” Sam whispered to him

“Do you have a crush on her seth?” Jacob ask him laughing

“What !? no….”

“She’s 17, your 14 it ain’t gonna happen” Jared said

“I can wait.”

“Guys come on there’a other girls” Sam said trying to keep the peace

“They’re not y/n tho” Paul said

“Oh what now you’re interested in her too? Now I don’t definitely don’t have a chance!” Seth threw his head back in defeat

“What? No im just saying there other girls for you, that are your age.” Paul told him

“Yea but remember you’re basically 19 so you can’t make a move.”

“Sure Seth just for you.”

“You guys stop fighting over her, Embry basically beat you too it anyways.” Quill said looking at Embry and y/n playing fighting in the ocean..

“Guys come on stop fighting let’s go in!” Emily said trying to keep Paul from wolfing out infront of Bella and Y/n.

They all are in the water, Bella soon left to meet up with her boyfriend.

Sam and Emily are together swimming and talking . The younger boys are ended up cliff diving with Jared.

Paul is just roaming around y/n not leaving her side. They some what were acting like children, y/n showing him how she doggy paddle, them having contests to see who can hold their breath the longest and just swimming around talking getting to know each other after a month of waiting.

“what’s your name” y/n asked

“Paul Lahote”

“Now tell me your story Mr.Lahote”

“Well, I’m 18 years old, people say I have a short temper but they’re just sensitive. My birthday is January 10th, greens my favorite color and I want to be a mechanic” he told her “now what’s yours.”

“Y/n Lara. originally city girl, I’m 17. My birthday is April 29th and my favorite color is purple. I don’t really know want I wanna do but a dentist sounds nice, oh maybe a vet.” she told him excitingly

“You know forks isn’t that bad” y/n says “it’s so peaceful, no crazy traffic, no loud noises coming from literally everywhere. Just trees, animals and rain. I feel so at peace.” she said floating soaking up the sun, waiting to see the sunset

“Do you miss Chicago ?” Paul asks her

“I miss the memories, my friends you know? I wouldn’t trade riding the transit for this. I officially love the west coast” she said swimming backwards

“Here come float with me” Paul pulled her. They both lay on their backs just staring at the sky, the sun is slowly starting to fall.

“I could totally take a nap here” y/n commenting “if I wouldn’t like float away becoming lost at sea”

“That would be a funny story to tell ” Paul chuckled before linking their hands “ I got you. don’t know what I would if I lost you.” The imprint on Sam started talking, this taken back y/n a bit.

“What do you mean?” She asked

“Oh um” Paul struggled to cover up what he said but quickly recovered “ you know before I could sweep you off your feet”

“Smooth” y/n said “you got competition tho”

“How will I ever compete with Seth!! A 14 year old who’s a mamas boy.” they laugh

“Come on let’s go with the others” y/n said grabbing his hand and swimming towards the shore.

Every was helping pack up, putting the food in the coolers, packing up the chairs and putting everything in the cars.

“Here let me help you” Paul said as he dusted off the sand of y/n blankets and folded them.

“Thanks Paul” she said

“Anytime” they head to her car to put them away. Once done they stood there.

“it was very nice to see you again. You’re pretty cool” y/n said

“Thanks you too. Didn’t know the girl who blasts oasis knew how to doggy paddle.” He said with a laugh

“Oof yea” she said closing her eyes due to embarrassment To be honest I blasted it because I was embarrassed that I called you sir. I thought I embarrassed myself I didn’t know you were 18 you look 20 with your build” She responded

“I’ll guess I’ll see you around the rez ? I gotta a get going tell Jacob and the rest I said bye and thanks for the invite !” Y/n said getting into her car

“Well bye I hope you too see you around soon. Drive safe” Paul hit the roof of her car and walked away.

Y/n waited for Tyler to get in the car and let him pick a cd. She began driving home thinking about how she finally met the boy from her dreams.

𝘗𝘢𝘶𝘭 𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘦

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

[arcadiii]

your choice, not mine

you came over to visit. your choice, not mine.

truthfully, i don’t remember the last time we’d been together (it was back in ‘09. you were leaving for university and i was still in school). i didn’t understand it then, why you left. i still don’t really know now. something about being upset with mum and dad (it was the pressure, i know. they were tough on you too).

but that was your choice, not mine.

we haven’t spoken since. after all, we were just kids back then. i didn’t understand and you didn’t care (right? you can’t have because then the silence wouldn’t make any sense). we had a couple years between us, enough to set us apart. we had different interests — you preferred dressing up and going out with friends whereas i liked video games and staying inside.

i don’t think you realise but it would’ve been nice to have you around, it hurts even now to admit. after all, it was strange no longer having an older sibling or someone to look up to (between our sibling rivalry, i don’t think you ever noticed anyway).

still… that was your choice, not mine.

i don’t know what changed but recently, you wanted to talk. your choice, not mine.

my parents (ours, i forget) never gave up on you. and despite the tension, something must have stuck because you were all suddenly talking again, your choice, not mine. but maybe, perhaps after all this time, we could be a family once again (or so you said, i don’t know, you never told me).

so here we are. you and me. again despite these years. your choice, not mine.

they seem nice by the way — your partner and kids. they’re all grown up, just like you and i. i’m not sure what i expected but i think i’m happy for you. you always did talk about wanting a family to call your own.

mum and dad are happy too, can you tell? i’m not surprised, you were the favourite and they’ve always talked about wanting to be grandparents (not that you’d know). they’re good with them, aren’t they? our parents with your kids. you’re surprised, i know, but i think you’d agree that they’re better at handling younger kids much better than the teens we once were.

or maybe, you wouldn’t. i guess you didn’t know me then, or now, but that was your choice, not mine.

and you… oh the impossible you. even as you’re sat beside me, you’re an enigma. a blank spot, a vacuum of empty space. something incomprehensible, something more than what i can remember. it’s been years upon years, and like how you don’t know me, i don’t know you.

i hope you remember, that was all your choice, not mine.

[ikarasu]

Lies of P is so painful for me to play sometimes.

Triggers: parental negligence trauma

One of the things that really got to me when I first played Lies of P was the relationship between P/Carlo/Geppetto. Instantly I recognize this path as their relationship is very similar to my own relationship with my mother. My mom seems like a great person from anyone else’s perspective, but it’s not the case. My mom was very negligent throughout my life. Yes, she made sure I had food to eat. Yes, she made sure I went to school and everything. But emotionally and physically she was never there for me.

I’ve been doing art for a very long time now. I even go to art school now. Yet my mom didn’t ever show up to any of my art shows. It hurt me a lot that she wasn’t supportive of something I’m very passionate about. To the point where I stopped showing up for my own art shows/galleries. My mother also never bothered to really do simple things like picking me up from school. At the time my mom wasn’t working, and yet she’d rather be doing other things than picking me up from elementary school. Because of that I eventually got banned from taking kiss n ride in elementary in 4th grade. I remember calling her in the office every time only for her to not pick up. My mom was very focused on my older sister and younger brother, no surprise I’m a middle child.

My mom would always be punctual for my siblings and their special events. They did speed skating and would travel a lot because of it. My mom would go literally different states for them but not show up for an art show that was only 10 minutes away. So eventually I stopped holding any expectations from her. I don’t ever talk to her about things going on with me. I felt like I couldn’t depend on her at all and I’ve grown to really resent her.

So seeing and hearing the flashbacks on Carlo’s life really struck a chord in me. I didn’t even realized how much I’ve grown to really empathize Carlo and P. It hurts even more to see the manipulation that Geppetto uses on P. Where he uses his powers of a parental figure on P. You don’t want to disobey, they’re you’re parent and you’re lead to think this is okay just because of that. You’re so traumatized and neglected that you still don’t want to disappoint them. It’s really frustrating and stressful because this manipulation tactic really fucks with your emotions and mentality.

Funny enough I went to go see the MBTI types for characters of Lies of P and what do you know.

I’m an ENTP and my mother is an INTJ

I really wanted to cry after seeing this. At first seeing this I was laughing with a friend, but the more I thought about it the sadder it made me. Eventually I started crying because it had me fucked up thinking about my relationship with my mom. All the manipulation and guilt tripping that she’s used on me. When all I wanted was my mom to put in some effort for me for once. To actually love me and be there for me.

Sorry for all this heavy stuff. But I just couldn’t take it after getting jump scared last night with having the same personality type and trauma as Carlo.

[ehlnofay]

Summerfest Day 7 - COMPANION

The hotel’s dining room is reminiscent of the restaurants Caelestis remembers eating at when ze was younger, on the rare occasions zir mother coaxed zem out of the house. The smooth gleam of the floors, the crackling glow of the hearth; even the weave of the napkins, the buffed edges of the tabletop, the candle in its little dyed-glass holder.

It makes Caelestis think of the stained glass in the walls of the temples; which is strange, because ze’d never been an avid temple-goer, and it’s been years since ze’s seen one. They don’t have the grand windows in the sporadic shrines in Morrowind; they are much smaller, most of the time, more self-contained, as if whoever designed the buildings – or, it almost felt, the buildings themselves – knew how oddly placed they were, soft little sacrariums dedicated to foreign gods. Most of them were never very busy. Caelestis understands why, ze thinks; ze’s never fully grasped the appeal of a religiously lived life, constant thought for beings so eternally far away. Gods that walk, two feet on the ground with the rest of them, have much more allure.

(Vivec always used to float, cross-legged, above his own shrine. Sotha Sil didn’t even have legs.)

It’s very nice, the setup of the tables, the art on the walls, the stained candle-cups and marbled glass of the windows and the quiet chatter of the room all around, the clinking of plates and cutlery, the gorgeous smell of food now more nostalgic than familiar. A jug of wine sits on the table before zem, untouched; the food is still steaming. Zir companion picks up a spoon to prod their dish with.

“You told me,” he says gravely, “that the cuisine of Cyrodiil had fewer insects.”

The prawns, spattered with sauce and spices, their antennae curled and lifeless eyes gleaming, do look remarkably buglike.

“Fewer,” Caelestis says, “not none.” A pause; ze looks down at zir own dish of egg and carefully lined up squid cakes. It’s unfamiliar enough now that ze needs to prepare zirself to try it. “Besides, they’re crustaceans, not insects.”

“A paltry difference,” he replies, with a flick of the spoon, and he cleaves the boiled-soft head off with its edge.

It’s strange, to be in a place like this again; so different to the places ze can easily afford in Morrowind, and the luxuries ze’s grown accustomed to. It’s strange to be in a public house at all, really, sitting over a meal ze does not need, opposite a stranger’s face; but they are practising, the pair of them. Play-acting at normalcy in a place that gives them some little leeway. Caelestis’ clothes aren’t at all the fashions worn by anyone else at any other table in the hall; zir skin, dry and mottled, is free of any visible scars or tattoos, cheeks plump and uneven with soft flesh taken from the inside of zir thigh. Zir hair lacks its shaved sides, long and dark and twined into an elaborate twisting shape reaching down the back of zir neck. (That’s the strangest change, honestly, and one ze hasn’t attempted before; ze’s left the barely-visible seams to make it easier to find where the join comes in, and stored zir real scalp, its hair shaved almost to the skin, in the leather folds of zir kit.) Zir companion, a bug-eyed Dunmer with temperamental hair and glisteringly new clothes, seems more at home in the change of scenery than ze is. With every flourish of hir cutlery, the firelight catches on the blood-red ring on hir middle finger.

(Caelestis still can’t look at it without grimacing; but maybe that’s for the best. Ze’s trying to get better at controlling zir facial expressions anyway.)

“I am curious,” says the traveller-who-is-not-Vivec to his companion-who-is-not-the-Nerevarine, and he pops the spoonful of prawn into his mouth, shell intact. (Caelestis has never eaten prawn zirself – ze’s always been very put off by meat that looks like animals – but ze’s reasonably certain that that’s not how it’s done.) He chews, eyes dark as wine; asks, “Why here?”

Caelestis takes up zir own cutlery. “It’s supposed to be the best in the city,” ze says. Ze’d ordered eggs, because bird isn’t so different from kwama, and seafood, because Vvardenfell has sea, too. (Ze has never taken easily to change, no matter how minor.)

Ze manages to carve off a forkful of squid. It smells nice, at least, though it will be irritating getting it out, later. On a normal day ze wouldn’t eat. But they’re practising, pretending to be people. People eat, as a general rule, so the not-Nerevarine has to, too.

Vivec flicks his eyes to the side. “No. Why any hotel?”

Ah.

Caelestis eats the squid, for the sake of looking like ze’s doing anything other than scrambling for an answer.

(The answer is, simply, that ze’s afraid; to ask for things, or to be given them, and then not want to refuse.)

“I think it’s best,” ze says, once the perfectly nice bite of squid cake is chewed and swallowed, “that I keep this time short.” (It’s been years of letter-writing; years of growing apart; ze is terrified down to zir bones that the minute ze steps into that house it will feel wrong. Even worse, that it won’t.)

(It’s a final farewell. No sense in dragging it out. Surely that will only make it more painful.)

There’s too much to it; too much mess and confusion; Caelestis stares at zir egg and squid and doesn’t mean to say anything, but the words fall ugly and vulnerable onto the ceramic of zir plate anyway. “I don’t even know what I’ll say.”

Vivec’s spoon clinks against his dish. The candle in its little glass dances. “Say everything,” he says, with the tone of one bestowing enlightening knowledge; “You’re lucky enough to know this is your last chance.” Guilt rises, as it always does, in Caelestis’ throat; the spoon clanks again and zir companion says, “This is actually quite good.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Caelestis replies. Zir fork squeaks. They are quiet, for a brief moment, in the noise of the hall.

Vivec reaches for the wine jug, pours hirself a glass; offers it to Caelestis, who declines. Food is more difficult to extract when mixed with liquid; besides, ze’s never liked wine enough to drink it for the sake of the taste, and it does nothing to zem, now.

Alcohol, like most intoxicants, works its effects through the bloodstream. Caelestis is a dry and clotted corpse.

“It is good,” Vivec repeats, and tilts their head to the side, thoughtful. It’s odd to see the hair move with them. “Hm. Perhaps you can just leave me here when you go to visit your mother.”

Their eyes look as deep red as the wine swirling around in the glass. It’s an unfamiliar brand; from Skingrad, Caelestis would bet. Most Cyrod wines are. The whole county is a vineyard, according to zir mother; ze’s never been, personally.

Maybe before they return to Vvardenfell, they could take a look. It isn’t as if travelling time is an issue. It isn’t as if any time is an issue anymore.

Caelestis prods at the spiced yolk of zir egg. “Maybe,” ze says. “But surely you’d get bored of sitting around eating prawns after a while.”

When Vivec smiles, an odd and private twist of the lips, the guise flickers; his hair gleams and one eye flashes gold. “You underestimate me,” he says gravely, beginning an attempt to shell the prawn with careful fingers. “I’m sure I’ve written verse on this very subject. Anything can be interesting if you choose to be interested by it.”

There is soft meat spreading over his fingers, knuckle-deep in cracking the carapace. Caelestis stares at the shell, wonders vaguely if ze could do anything with it; if it’s flesh-like enough; if it’s dead enough. Vivec extracts the innards with the care of a surgeon and swallows the shelled prawn in one. For a moment it all feels overwhelming – so staggeringly unbelievable – so ridiculous; Caelestis thinks of their first meeting, strange and awkward and so, so heavy. Ze’d still been alive, then, still growing accustomed to the new shape corprus and ridding zirself thereof gave zem, still figuring out how to talk around zir half-tongue, still carving out a place in Morrowind’s mythos to fit zem. It was staggering; it was overpowering; ze’d been choking on parables, still, so very unprepared to meet him in person. When ze first pushed open that door Vivec hadn’t even yet called off the curse they’d levelled on zir head; the temple was ready and willing to kill zem at a word. They’d each spoken of it simply, perfunctorily; that they had tried to have zem executed was, at that time, the simplest part of their relationship.

(Now, Caelestis thinks, the simple thing it all boils down to is different. Now, they are allies. Everything else is secondary.)

Vivec had seemed intimidating then. Alien, unknowable; the centre of a legend ze’d found some strange comfort in since ze was a child, hovering still and silent above hir own ancient shrine; a god, back when it meant something bigger than it does now. Hir speech had been short and weighty, every word pronounced as if it were momentous, solemn as anything. Caelestis doesn’t think ze saw hir smile until perhaps their fourth meeting, and even then it had been wry. Ze didn’t joke, then; said nothing flippantly; carried hirself with a comportment befitting the roll ze was taking.

Caelestis wonders, now, how true any of it was. How true any of it is, or ever has been. Ze’s not an enormously insightful person, and people are complicated; gods, seemingly, even more so. Especially when they’re both at once.

Zir fork clinks against the porcelain of the plate. “You seem happier,” ze says. The fire crackles.

“Do I?” says Vivec; Caelestis can never usually read his tone, but now he sounds curious. He leans back into the smooth wood of his chair, eyes settling on the elaborately coffered ceiling. (It really is overpoweringly strange seeing him with hair; long and pulled back, escaping easily from its ties. Caelestis wonders if this is how he looked, before the Heart; ze hasn’t asked.)

He gazes at the ceiling as if some grand thing might be inscribed in its painted contours.

“I think,” he says after a moment, Caelestis watching him while slicing off a mouthful of squid cake, “I am relieved,” and he nods decisively as he looks back at his plate, moves in to peel open another prawn. In the light of the little candle, his fingers look slick.

Caelestis lifts zir forkful to zir mouth. Ze does not say why? does not say how? does not say don’t you grieve for all we’ve wrought? but it must be written on the lines of zir face, because they meet zir eyes and tilt their head, gentle.

“You know I wasn’t surprised,” ze says, and Caelestis nods, once. “All of it – all we’ve done – was eons in the making.” A pause; hir fingers crack open a shell. “I hadn’t spoken to either of them in decades. I grieved for each loss long before it came to pass.”

The room swirls and eddies around them, a mess of chatter, painted-on scenery. Caelestis feels, sometimes, like ze could reach out and smear the world around zem with a touch.

Vivec sets hir food down in the ceramic dish. “And now there is nothing left to dread. I’m done mourning.” He brings his thumb to his mouth, licks off the juice of the meat. His teeth are small. He smiles, suddenly, wide and brilliant. “I confess, I didn’t think this far ahead. Now it seems all the world is new.”

“Soon enough,” Caelestis says drily, “it will be.”

Vivec raises their glass to that. Caelestis chinks zir fork against it, after they spend several seconds refusing to bring it back down. “Salut,” ze says, watches him drink.

He sets the glass down. “I am glad,” he says, “that I do not navigate this new mortal world alone.” His dish glisters in the firelight, spices mingling with the air’s thin smoke; he tips it toward zem and offers, “Crustacean?”

[thewritersaddictions]

Bases: Negan Smith- Chapter 4 Echo

Pairing: Negan Smith x Fem!Reader

Pov: Negan Smith

Warnings: Smut, head, PinV, wrap it before you tap it, angst, fluff, mentions of the wives, coin for your thoughts, a little fight-ish.

Summary: It all takes longer than expected, but Negan is absolutely thrilled when he gets you under his sheets and finally gets to have you all to himself.

A/n- @ firefly-graphics for dividers

WC- 3.2k

The Walking Dead Master List // The Wanderers Master List // Series Master List

Months go by before anything else happens. I'd let go of the wives. That had been first on my list of things. 'Returning' them to their husbands or whatever was left of them. They all seemed grateful, as if I had been a horrible person in the first place.

I can't shake the feeling that I might have been slightly sinister. I wasn't always right. It only ever came out when it was needed. Lucille had been a good thing slung over my shoulder, which put the fear of god into most people. A man with needs, though, can only go so far with a bit of touch here and there, a warm and wet mouth awaiting them.

Y/n had grown more in the past few months, though. Confidence didn't pour from her, but it also wasn't non-existent. She travels more often with us, taking care of many walkers on the way. She had a few past times. Y/n had a collection of books stacking up, taking up spots on the side, and coffee tables in the room.

It was excellent, the feeling of the space before compared to now. It felt different. It felt like a home, not just someplace where I happened to lay my head down at night. Y/n also had other past times. We had people, and they had jobs, yet every morning I'd watch as Y/n would stand at the fence line with a knife in hand. Walkers were lying dead at the fence line.

Blood and guts smeared against cleanly washed clothes. Bloodstained against the supple skin of her cheek. “Hey maybe next time you should use my bat.” I said, walking up behind her. Was it clear to everyone else in the sanctuary that Y/n was something special, perhaps they had no clue why all the sudden she was all I really cared about. “Hmm I didn’t think you’d allow for that Negan.” Y/n said digging the knife into another lopsided walker head. Sure they’re other people in the yard, but none that are as intriguing at Y/n. 

“Why don’t you and I go get some lunch?” With Y/n nothing is ever a demand, rather a question that I feel Y/n won’t ever deny. She looks down at the ground on the other side of th fence. The pile of walkers line a good portion of the fence. “Maria are you okay if I go inside for a moment?” Y/n asks some younger women, she looks and then nods her head when she that I’m beside Y/n. “Thanks Maria.” Y/n calls out as we start to walk back. 

“Are you okay Negan?” she asks, I nod my head simply. Not yet wanting to get into the fact that for the past few months I’ve been inching closer, and closer to a feeling that I’m not sure what to do with. The feel of admiration, of love. The first love I’ve felt in since the world went to shit. We walk past the court filled with all sorts of people, and for a moment the look of confusion is written all over Y/n’s face. 

“I thought you said we were getting lunch?” She questions me, “We are, in the room. I don’t eat out here. The crowds of people are to loud to have a nice pleasant lunch.” I tell her simply, before grabbing her hand and walking side by side with her to the bedroom. When we walk in the smell of food hits both us like a slap in the face, or rather a slap in the mouth. “Do you want to shower before we eat?” I ask her, noticing thatthe grim is stuck in her hair, and the blood looks worse under these lights then outside. 

She looks down, noticing the things I had. Shaking her head she drops the knife onto the countertop, and then she starts to shift through her clothes. “Are you sure you want to get clean clothes are dirty?” Y/n laughs at my comment, “I didn’t even notice.” So, instead she slips off the black boots. “I’ll grab you something to wear, and you can take your shower.” The food can be forgotten for now. I don’t see a problem with waiting on her. She stands there for a moment before simple walking over and kissing my cheek. Something as sweet as that for which I do not feel like I deserve makes me feel like a teenager in highschool all over again. 

Y/n makes me feel like a fucking teenager who’s crush has finally said something to them, touched them for the first time. With that small notion of care within her kiss to my cheek, my cock stirs to life within my jeans. She skips off leaving me standing there when the doors shuts, and the water turns on that is when i start to go through her clothes. 

Some drawers are filled with large shirts that she tends to use to go to sleep in. One drawer is dedicated to just jeans, for what I’m thinking about doing there’s no need for Y/n to be going back outside for the rest of the day. I grab a loose t-shirt, a pair of sweats, and of course a pair of panties. The blue fabric with the same frilly sides, and little bow on the front of them. If I were anything less then a man I would have pocketed them for a later use. 

I refold the clothes into a nice pile, and knock on the bathroom door before entering. The sheer shower curtain gives little tothe imagination. “You can just leave them on the counter Negan.” She yells over the water pressure, and when I do leave them there. There’s a part of me that would love to strip down and hop in the shower behind her. 

Grab her by the hips, pull her up against me. And finally slip myself inside that tight pussy of hers. To hear her moans bounce off the shower walls, to know that her hand would be pressed into the wall just below mine as I fucked her good and hard. It places me in a fantasy for which my cock is happy to contiune to be apart of. Something pulse me out though, pulls me out of my dream like fantasy. A humming of sorts that turns into a little voice bouncing off the walls. Then into a full song, Y/n singing in the shower, her eyes probably closed as she lathers her hair with shampoo, or washes down her body with soap. That idea alone has me weak in the knees. But I know I can’t do any of that, I can’t push her into it. It’s got to be of her free will, she has to want to move past blowjobs here, and me eating out her pussy. 

When Y/n comes out of the bathroom, she’s already dressed in the clothes i placed on the counter. She rubs down her thighs. “Feelin’ better?” I ask her, as water droplets roll down her shoulders and soak into the fabric. She yawns “Much cleaner now.” Y/n says with a giggle. “Lunch now?” I ask her, she nods her head. The food probably hasn’t gone cold, but to be sure I had left the plate covers on. 

Y/n settles next to me. Her knees bumping into mine, shoulders brushing up against each other. She’s wet, and warm. “Did you use all the hot water?” I tease, she looks up at the ceiling. “Maybe…” She teases back. I remove the covers and the flavors of the food whaftes into the air. “I hope venison is okay?” I ask her, she nods her head. “You don’t know how much probably really bad food I ate while I was out there.” She says shifting things on the table to make room for both plates. “What’d mean?” Cutting into the meat of the deer, the knife grinds into the plate for a second. 

“I just mean that I was out there by myself for a while, and let’s be honest people freaked out pretty quickly. Nothing was left in the stores, or gas stations.’ She said before digging into her own plate of venison. “You know I wonder how many other people tried to survive like you but weren’t strong enough?” It’s not really a question by any means, just an open thought. Sure people are strong, but nobody was prepared for a zombie fuckin’ apocalypse. “I’m not sure how other people. I honestly didn’t see anybody else the entire time I was out there, if you’re not counting walkers.” Y/n looks down at the plate of food. “Just glad I finally found good place.” It’s almost under her breathe. 

Beers come out of the mini fridge. “A beer for you?” I ask her as I set the empty lunch plates on the counter top and out of the way of the coffee table. She yawns once more, but nods her head in my direction. I grab another bottle by the neck. Cold on my finger tips, as I walk back to the couch where Y/n seems to get more comfortable. I press the cold bottom of one of the bottles into her neck, instead of shrieking and pushing me away. Y/n leans into the cold, “You can’t get me Negan.” Her words set a challenge in my head, I could most definitely get her, swoop her off her feet, grab and put her in my lap. “Are you sure of that Y/n?” An arched brow as I sit back besides her, she smiles sweetly, before gabbing the bottle out of my hand. “I noticed that Frankie hasn’t come around at all.” Y/n says, not that it’s the conversation I want to have right now damping the good mood that I thought was going on. 

I take a swing of the beer, tingling my taste buds. “I let… they’re gone…” Her eyes light then dim, and then light back up. “Like what does that mean?” She ask with a serious voice. Trying to hide her excitement. “It’s just you my dear.” The words feel odd on my tongue, but there’s a feeling in the bottom of the my stomach that makes me righteous. Like what i’ve done is all for the good, just for the two of us. Her cheeks fill with a pink blush, as she sets her opened beer on the side table and shifts herself to rest on my lap. 

We aren’t tipsy, not that a beer or even two could make me close to tispy. Y/n is in my lap, her sweats stretch as her thighs sit opposite of mine, her arms wrap around my neck hands locked together. She’s so pretty just sitting here on my lap with nothing behind her eyes. Her confidence grows every single time we are together. 

The smile that shifts into a smirk on her face is addicting. Her hips grind up against me, my hands landing on her hips helping her keep her motions solid. Y/n leans forward connecting our lips together in a chaotic kiss. Lips mashing together, teeth scraping against each others. Tongues dancing around each other. My fingers digging into the fabric of her sweats, probably leaving bruises in their wake. 

Her moans bounce around and towards the back of my throat, as I rake her forward. Bitting my bottom lip dragging it away as Y/n leaves the kiss. Confidence oozing from her as she rips off the t-shirt, landing somewhere on the floor aside us. Breasts bounces as the fab ric releases them from their prison, nipples budding as the cold air hits them. Y/n grips at the hem of my shirt to pull it up and over my shoulder, her hands hit my skin. A cold to warm contrast. Cold hands scraping down my chest as Y/n leans in pressing a few kisses into my neck and chest, before returning her attention to where my neck and shoulder meet. 

Her lips wrap around the pulse point in my neck, sucking and licking as she leaves a hickey on my skin. “Are you markin’ me pretty girl?” I ask through a groans as her hip continue to flex over my own. She hums into my skin, “such a good girl.” She returns my words with a hard grind of her hips. The restriction of my jeans leaving me a hard mess, my cock pressed into her wet center every time she grinds up on me. 

I pick her up with ease, “Where are we goin’?” Y/n asks already sounding cock drunk. “To the bed, because as much as I want to be a getneleman and wait for you to say that I can fuck this tight cunt, I’m tired of waiting.” I groan into her ear, she shivers in my hold but doesn’t seem to be backing down from the idea. There’s no condoms, not left anyways. So it’s the pullout game for me, or I can bury my cock deep in the wet, warm cunt of hers. I lay her gently on the bed, stripping of her sweats, and panties. A wet spot sporting them, and I can’t help the smirk that filters onto my face, and I sucepts that Y/n can’t help the blush that seeps into her cheeks and ears. 

I remove my jeans with ease as to not aggravate my hard on in my boxer. I get down onto my knees het again the show of age in my knees as they creak. “NO!” I look up at Y/n, her eyes are wide with pleases written all of them. “No what?” I ask her, my brows knitted together, “I love your mouth on me, but please NE-gan please just fuck me with your cock please!” She begs as she rests herself up on her elbows. I can’t deny her, and as much as I would love to get my lips around her swollen clit. My knees and body give thanks to her. “Alright, baby don’t worry I’ll fuck you go and proper. Won’t be walking for days.” I ensure her, as I throw off my boxers. Landing them into the piles of discarded clothes. 

Y/n opens her legs wide, letting me slot my hips between her plush thighs. Everything about her makes my cock stand right up to attention, but Y/n is getting imptantet dragging a hand down her belly to her dripping cunt. But it’s not that she bring her attention to, her soft hand gently grabs ahold of me. Lining me up with her entrance. “Please Negan,” Y/n begs, I want to see how much longer I can get her to beg me, but I can’t deny myself any longer. 

At first she’s so tight hat I fear I’ve died right there and gone to hell, “Loosen up baby, gotta let me in.” I praise her, as I bring a hand up from her navel up to the valley of her breats to her neck. Her own hand wraps around mine. She’s tense and I can feel it, “Look at me,” Her eyes open wide as she looks up at me, “Breathe with me yeah.” She takes in a shake first breathe and with every breathe I inch myself further and further into her cunt. Y/n pratically pulls me in the rst of the way, her legs wrap around my wasit locking me in, her arms come to lock around my neck. I let my hips loose, fucking her into the matters with no plan to ease up. Y/n’s eyes roll into the back of her head, but she looses up around me, her lock on my waist, and neck allowing me to get a hand between the two of us to play with her clit. 

“Oh fu-fuck.” She moans out, “God I feel so full right now!” She screams out, “Yeah that’s good baby, like how good my cock makes you feel?” I ask her knowing she’s too cock drunk to anwer my question. My thumb on her clit works with haste, she’s already squeezing me tightly but every flicker of my wrist, and thumb her sqquezes me tighter and tiger. “Are you gonna cum pretty girl?” I ask her pressing kisses into her warm flesh. She hums, “Words love words.” I whispers into her skin, “Oh fuck don’t stop, just like that.” The sound of skin slapping against skin hitting the walls. “NE-gan I’m, i’m gonn’…” Her eyes roll over, her mouth left gapping open. A silent scream that probably only a dog could hear. 

I continue to move my hips fucking her through her first orgasm of the night. Her breath is ragged, and when she comes to, she grabs for me. Pulling me down to met her lips once more, “Do you want me to stop?” I ask her, She shakes her head, “Don’t you ever stop.” Y/n begs me, good I think, now lets try something else. “You try something new?” I ask her, she hums. I slip out and she whines at the empty feeling. I shift getting up on the bed, my back pressed into the mattress. “Come here.” I beckon her, she crawl over to me on her hands and knees. “You wanna be a cowgirl?” She looks at with confusion. “Come sit on my lap. Y/n throws her legs over my waist, “And now I’m just gonna slip myself right back into this delicious cunt of hers.” I say as I slip mtself in, and she lowers herself down on my cock. Her eyes light up and her mouth hangs open. My hands land on her hips, helping her with the first few bounces and then she’s got it all under control. Her hands pressed into my chest, and her tits bouncing with each thurst of her hips down. The wet sound of her gushing cunt, and how Y/n throws her head back in estacsy as she gets closer and closer to the edge that’s just that much closer now. My hands have a mind of their own when they grip at her tits, she leans down letting my play with her budded nipples. Rolling them between my forefinger and thumb, before popping one into my mouth with ease. A hand that used to be on my chest lands in my hair pulling me closer to her chest. 

I know Y/n’s right on the edge, because her fingers flex hard around my hair and she moans loudly. I relish in the way she pulls me in tight as I loose myself before I have the time to pull out and cum. My hips ruts up agasint hers and we lose to each other at the same time. “FUCK NEGAN!” She screams and shouts at the tops of her lungs, my head falls into her skin, mumbles of curses and words that I’m not sure are real fall from my lips. I’m sure of it that most of the sanctuary have heard Y/n by now. 

We stay linked together, and by the time our breathing has returned to normal, she whines when I slip from her, begging me not to leave. I press a chaste kiss into her forehead. “I’ll be right back; I gotta clean up our mess,” I tell her Y/n looks sad but nods that she understands her head falling into a pillow. I leave for only a moment to grab a washcloth to wipe down her inner thighs and another to press into her warm skin. Whispering praises into her skin and kisses every few moments.

Completed on: 08/20/21

Posted on: 08/21/23

Bases- @ge0rgzs @rainyzonkmakerlover @amazingmaeve @harmonib @fullwattpadmusictree @finalgirlmp3 @raynneemccann @redscreendarkwin @lanceisrandom @sweetvixensstuff @charlie19690 @123avengersandmarvel @ayeitzzshayla @sageworld @julumariett @freedomfighterlex @chelseypprimrose @oceanablue @daryldixonluvr @whatsssss @kaits-diary @idk1idk2idk @scarlett-widows-89 @jsmsgorl @lanad3lrey-l0v3r @clararangel @tonysterco @staciex @0thecrazygurl0 @kpoplover4life @definitelynotyagmur @rivernell @vanilla88 @alteredgalaxy @kyleepsposts @max-505 @nhayoshii @neganswoman

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Leather & Lace: Ch. 01

Leather and Lace Masterlist

A/N: I’m so happy you’re here. I’ve been holding this close to my heart & finally decided it was time to share it. Please see the masterlist for overall series warning, but this chapter is slow and simple - a touch angsty. Let me know what you think! And to my lovely ladies (you know who you are), I’m not sure what I did to deserve you all, but I’m so grateful for you. Thanks for making me laugh harder than I have in a long time & for talking me into sharing this (& more). Special thanks to @boomhauer for taking on the role of putting up with my excessive use of the word and, bad grammar, and tendency to over italicize - I owe you big time friend.

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Side A | Track 01: “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman

There’s a reason there are so many songs about young love, lost innocence, fleeting moments, and growing up.

A reason those songs usually involved leaving someone behind or being the one who was left. 

Several reasons that hundreds of people are able to connect to a lyric about watching that person or that town disappear in your rearview mirror as you vowed to never look back again. 

The reasons, the songs, the people who relate to them, all center around one thing - small towns.

And small towns fucking suck.

The songs, the movies, the people - they want you to believe in small town America. They want you to think it’s peaceful, that it’s bliss. Not a single soul is unhappy - the town and all within it are thriving. You’re supposed to feel safe, enjoy knowing your neighbors, and learn how to bake pies to submit to county fairs like your mom did and her mom did. It’s all shoved down your throat from the minute you’re born in that ‘too big’ city hospital. Barely a day old and you’re already being told it’s better this way as you're shuffled back home to where you’re supposed to belong.

When you’re younger, you don’t understand it all yet. You like that everyone in your class knows each other and everyone gets invited to every birthday party. You like waving to your mailman at the grocery store and seeing your teacher at the movie theater. You love that all of the moms know each other and gossip, because that means when yours picks you up to go home after a sleepover you have at least another hour together while they all talk.

But as the years go by, it all starts to change. Suddenly, your class doesn’t like each other, you’re not all invited to the parties, people stop dressing up for Halloween because it’s not “cool” anymore. Your best friends start talking about boys, clothes aren’t just clothes - they’re a status, and liking certain music or movies makes you either a freak or a god. 

Someone snaps their fingers and it’s a bloodbath to rise up in social status. There’s a hierarchy, a food chain, and it’s every man for himself. You start to see that it was all an illusion. The moms who you swore were the best of friends are the first to let you in on the secret of the false happiness of the town and its people. 

Their long winded doorway and grocery store gossip filled conversations you once tuned out, now ring in your ears too loud. They fake smiles and pleasantries until one leaves the herd, the pack descending on them with nasty remarks and the first of many rumor fueled flames is lit. No longer the close friendships you once dreamed of having yourself, but relationships formed from gossip and jealousy and hate that their offspring seemed doomed to inherit.

Like a movie playing on the big screen, you watch it happen right before your eyes. Your once tight knit group of friends turning on each other for something as simple as eating a slice of pizza at lunch instead of a salad. They’re glossing lips and curling eyelashes, and talking about basketball player boyfriends. Plans for their futures suddenly centered around boys you’d grown up with, dreams of weddings, kids, and staying in that same town repeating it all over again with a new generation. 

They've got to be shitting you, right? 

You’re not an idiot though. You see how the people you once called friends are suddenly freaks - shunned by the kings and queens of the school. And you’re not proud of it, but you play along. You wear the outfits, the bright blue eyeshadow, you make fun of people who are slightly different from the status quo. 

High School is a balance beam, a high wire, a jump out of an airplane but you don’t all have the parachute or net to catch you. It’s all a bunch of bullshit, a massive and giant labyrinth of contradictions and riddles designed to make you sink or swim. Lean or turn the wrong way one time, and it’s game over.

You can’t answer too many questions in class and look like a nerd, but obviously you have to keep up your grades because you can’t be seen as a slacker or dropout - what would people think? You can’t like art or band or theater too much, you can be an athlete but they’d prefer it if you just cheered for them. Be a good girl, get good grades, and dote on whatever king of Hawkins belongs to the letterman jacket you currently have slung around your shoulders. 

And the school stuff isn’t even the worst part. The extracurriculars are where things started to get really complicated. Only the freaks, losers, and dropouts smoke weed and drink. Oh, but you’re not gonna have even a sip or one hit at the party? Who are you, Mother Theresea? You go to church, so you’re a saint, right? Only on her knees for Jesus? Boys will be lining up to see if they can make the angel dip into her sinful ways. Trapped on the receiving end of a double edged sword - a prude if you don’t do anything and a slut if you do. 

You walk the line for four years, sticking to the status quo and you coast. Never in the background and never in the spotlight, miraculously making it through what’s supposedly the best years of your life fairly unscathed. It’s not all rainbows and perfectly pressed pleated skirts though, and you need out. You pack up what little you can consider truly your own possessions two days after graduation, ready to head towards the city. You’re going to watch that shitty little town disappear in your rearview mirror and you’re not going to look back, not even for a second. 

Your “friends” think you've lost it. Your parents worry and remind you you can always come back. You hope your little brother is proud of you - he’s the only reason you do risk a glance in the rearview mirror. You see him standing in the driveway, waving a sad arm in the air, his misfit friends all standing by him. He'll be okay. He'll see how good you do outside of that town and maybe he'll be inspired and get out too. 

Chicago is dirty, loud, fast and wonderful. It’s nothing like you thought it’d be and everything you dreamed about. You’re poor and surviving off of Seven-Eleven slurpees, but you’re living.

People are different in the city. Unique and vibrant and filled with life. They’re not settling for normalcy. They’re pushing themselves and boundaries. Told to be different and stand out - speak up instead of being seen and not heard. 

School is completely different too. No one to tell you that you can’t like both an art class and a science class. A gift from the universe, you’re sure, when your assigned lab partner offers you a joint one day, where he casually offers up the information that his cousin is his dealer and his mom runs a local Sunday school - like that’s normal everywhere. And maybe it is, maybe the awful small town is ancient history. You embrace the new normal and you ask if his cousin can hook you up too and if the church has a choir you can join. 

The next four years are long, and not at all perfect, but they’re your years and no one else’s. You’re writing your own story and figuring things out for yourself. Your parents and brother call and visit frequently and you manage to avoid returning home as much as possible - visits only extending for no more than two days, and staying put inside your childhood home. The happenstance lab partner talk ends you up in a job teaching at a local church when you’re not in class. Falling in love with the kids, you pursue a career in teaching, dreaming of a future where you’re helping to shape the minds of the next generations. 

Graduation, your own apartment, a job teaching art to middle school - the dreams, the life you couldn’t have even imagined, unfolding before you like you’re living the best part of a movie. It all seems too good to be true.

And maybe it was. 

Maybe it was some sort of childhood naivety clinging to you. Hopes and dreams were just that - and somehow you had gotten caught up in yours. You should have realized that life is not always a happy ending. It is filled with an immeasurable amount of curve balls, running uphill both ways, grief, and unexpected life altering moments. It’s unpredictable and unfair and ready to blindside you at a moment’s notice. 

"Fuck!"

The loaf of bread you’ve been carrying falls into an icy puddle at the curb. You jump to grab it, but it's too late. A car rolls right over it, honking like it's your fault and you flip them off.

You know it’s stupid to cry over a loaf of bread, over a stranger honking at you, and besides, your tears will only freeze to your eyelashes. So you try to keep them at bay as you quickly walk the remaining block to your apartment, arms pulling your coat closer to ward off any harsh wind that manages to sneak through and chill your body.

You rip the pink past due notice from your door as you rush inside, dumping your bags on the floor and kick the excuse of a coffee table that's just a sheet over two cardboard boxes as you pass it. You don’t even bother turning on the lights because you know you couldn’t afford last month’s electricity bill, which means you certainly can’t afford this month’s. 

You knew you weren't going to make it much longer and the tears you had managed to hold in now wet your lashes as they threatened to finally fall.

The shrill ring of your phone pulls you out of your self pity and wallowing. You knew it was your little brother, calling you at this time every Sunday night. You had managed to keep it all to yourself for almost six months, not having it in you to tell them all, to tell him that you had failed. That you needed to return home. 

You knew it was time though and you picked it up on the last ring, "Hello?"

Your brother is screaming into the line and you start to panic, "What? What's going on?" Your mind starts racing back to a few years ago when all the crazy shit went down with the mall and the earthquake - your family luckily safe with you in Chicago for both events. Why they insisted on returning to that shitty town even after all of that was beyond you.  

"I got into NYU!"

You fall back against your wall, the tears falling down your still thawing cheeks. A mixture of grieving the loss of your own innocence and celebration of his still thriving one. You clutch the phone tighter and wish you could hug him through it, wrapping the cord around your fingers you choke out, “I’m so proud of you buddy. That’s amazing. Congrats.”

He's breathless and laughing, "Will you come home to celebrate? Longer than the two days you had planned for Christmas? Please?"

You cradle the phone between your ear and neck and grab a spoon to get your dinner of peanut butter started.

You look up at the ceiling and try not to cry harder. You can’t tell him, but you have to. You take a deep breath as his voice falls to that wobble that only little brothers know. The one they perfect before their first words so they can hit you right where it hurts and make you swear to yourself to never let the sound leave their mouth again if you can help it.

"Y/N? Please?" he asks quietly.

You sniffle and form some sort of courage to tell him you’re a failure, "How ‘bout I do you one better and I come home for the rest of your senior year?"

"What?" 

You rip it off like a bandaid that’s been left on too long, wincing through it as you blurt out, "I got laid off at the end of last year."

"But you're the art teacher! How can they just-"

You interrupt him before you start crying harder and he can go off on a rant, “Buddy, I know, listen, it’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it over some pizza while we watch The Breakfast Club, okay?”

He’s silent for what feels like forever when he finally asks, “Can we get pineapple on the pizza?”

You laugh through the remaining tears and nod, leaning your forehead against the wall, “You bet. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

When you hang up, you look around your dark apartment. The place that once was your oasis, your dream, now an expensive responsibility and weight on your shoulders. You’d sold most of your furniture already, and so you start packing your few remaining belongings that same night. 

In the next two days you sell what you can, enough to barely make your final rent payment and you hand your landlord your key as the first snow of the year drifts down lazily around you. You turn and take one final polaroid of the city - wanting to remember it this way, before climbing into your rusting and falling apart car and closing your door on it all. 

As you make the drive out of the city, your eyes fill with tears in the rearview mirror. It was never supposed to be like this. This wasn’t the town that was supposed to disappear in the mirror. These weren’t the people you were supposed to be leaving. As the wheels of the car take you further and further away, you turn the volume of your mixtape up as loud as it can go, drowning out the thoughts of your failures, your disappointments, your crushed dreams. You wipe the tears from your cheeks as you sing along loudly.

“...I got no plans, I ain’t going nowhere. So take your fast car and keep on driving. So I remember when we were driving, driving in your car - speed so fast I felt like I was drunk. City lights lay out before us and your arm felt nice wrapped round my shoulders. And I, I had a feeling that I belonged. I-I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone…”

🖤 Thanks again for being here - any interaction is so appreciated & I’d love to know what you thought about it! If you’re able, please consider reblogging to help get my work seen.  tag list: @christalcake @loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean

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Voltober 5. The Ship's Going Down - The Price of War

Author's notes: You don't UNDERSTAND! They are so CUTE!!! BETTEL MY BABY BOIIIII and I also got to do some more worldbuilding for the elves and they're so fun! Enjoy!

Challenge list - Voltober 4

Content: Elf whumpee, boat crash, drowning, child whumpee

Drowning | Shipwrecked | Capsized

@voltober

Bettelenian ran down the bank, laughing as he was chased by one of his older cousins towards the small boats. They had worked all month to make the little crafts so they could go out on the lake. The expanse of water was so huge you couldn’t really see the other side, and it had become a challenge in their minds to try and make it to the lake town of gnomes on the other side without the aid of their parents’ magic powered boats.

“Come on, Bettel! You can go faster than that!” Kelliaron called out as he chased his younger cousin. “Run, run run!”

Eager to impress, Bettel ran faster, pumping his legs as fast and as hard as he could, pounding across the rocky sand so hard his feet hurt until he reached the boats, putting his hands out to smack into the side of one and stop his momentum. He turned, grinning, as Kelli cheered. “You’re fast! You’re going to put everyone in the footraces at Autumn Fest to shame,” he said, ruffling Bettel’s unbound hair.

Bettle grinned, glowing with pride as Kelli’s sister, Lorckani, and their other cousin, Gilopticous, made their way along the shore in a slower and more dignified manner, chatting with one another.

Bettle got up into the boat, his legs shaking a little from the exertion, still panting as Kelli unblocked an untied the boat.

Lorcka and Gilop made their way to the other boat and Gilop called out, “Do you think this is going to be the trip we make it?”

“If our parents don’t catch us,” Kelli said with a grin as Lorcka unmoored her boat and Gilop climbed in, letting the bigger cousin push the boat out. He usually helped push when he was with Kelli, but Lorcka liked doing it herself now that she was getting to be bigger than them, female elves typically growing to be two heads taller than male elves.

Bettel watched, his breathing settling down. He giggled as Kelli pushed the boat over the sand and into the water. Skilled at this now, Kelli hopped in before the water could lap at his feet and he grabbed an oar, pushing them out the rest of the way.

Bettel grabbed an oar as well and paddled along, good at working alongside his cousins, even if he was smaller. The two boats sailed out into the lake with minimum wobble, nothing like their first few attempts that dumped them out into the shallow water.

They laughed and talked as they made their way out, the sun beating down on their white hair, a reminder of when their particular race of elves, the South Lakern tribe, used to intermingle with gnomes.

“How long do you think it will take to get to the other side?” Bettel asked, looking over the edge of the boat down at the water hoping to see a fish.

“In one of the grown up boats it’s about an hour. So I think for us it might be three,” Lorcka said. “That’s why we started so early, Gilop.” She poked her cousin in the side and he laughed, elbowing her.

“You know I like sleeping in. You could have just left me.”

“Then who would have helped me paddle?”

Kelli chuckled, paddling leisurely so Bettel could keep up with his pace.

Time passed peacefully on the lake, the clouds large and fluffy above them. The four of them sang the boat songs they knew before they started trying to make up their own.

“High up clouds sing!” Bettel suggested eagerly after listening to his cousins suggest lines.

“Clouds don’t sing,” Lorcka said with a frown. “They seem more like the humming type to me.”

“Well, maybe they’re very excited clouds.”

“Guys, what do clouds have to do with the beavers making dams anyway,” Gilop pointed out. “It’s a good line, though, Bettel. Maybe we can use it in the next song.”

Bettel huffed.

“Ooh! We could make this song kind of like a beaver working song,” Kelli said.

“A beaver working song?”

“Well, yeah, what else do they do when they’re looking for a good tree to gnaw down or patting down all of those sticks,” Kelli said with a shrug.

“That’s fair. But then wouldn’t it be rude to make one for them since we aren’t beavers?”

“Uuuuh…. That’s a good point.”

Before they could discuss the matter further they all heard the soft hum of a magic boat. A boat skidded over the water, a group of rowdy looking young adults on it.

They grinned and laughed and waved at the young teens on their small paddle boats and approached quickly. Too quickly!

“Stop!” Kelli cried out in alarm, trying to paddle out of the way, Bettel following his example, but the inexperienced young adults overshot where they wanted to stop, their bow plowing right through Bettel and Kelli’s boat.

Bettel was thrown painfully into the water, and he kicked out to push off from the bottom, but he couldn’t find the bottom. There was no bottom. There was no up or down. He had never been in water this deep and the terror that gripped him was like nothing he had ever felt before.

He struggled, arms and legs kicking, but his legs ached from his run and his arms wobbled from how long he’d been paddling and he was already almost out of air since he hadn’t gotten a good breath when he was thrown from the boat.

His chest burned, trying to convince him that breathing water was better than breathing nothing.

He gave one last fever pitch of a struggle, opening his eyes under water even though it was scary, but his hair enveloped his vision, and bubbles erupted around his frantic motions. He couldn’t see! He didn’t know where he was or if he was upside down and there was blackness rimming the edges of his vision.

His movements slowed as he fought to keep from breathing. Someone had to save him. They all saw him fall in, why was no one coming in to save him?

He closed his eyes, his mouth popping open, water flowing in to explore his lungs.

In the next moment he vomited it all out, his stomach and diaphragm cramping as he did so, coughing and curling up around his bruised chest.

“He’s alive!” someone shouted in excitement and another rubbed his chest encouragingly. “Give me a big cough, Bettel.”

Bettel didn’t need much prompting as he tried to take a deeper breath and found himself coughing harder than he’d ever coughed in his whole life, more water spewing up. He kept going, forcing another cough to get out more of the water before someone deemed that enough was out they could pick him up and hold him close, a hand on the back of his head.

“I’m so sorry,” a voice said in his ear and he realized that it was his youngest uncle holding him, only recently become an adult. “I’m so sorry, Bettel. Are you alright?”

Bettel tried to speak, but it hurt too much to say anything intelligible, a sad little croak escaping instead.

“What were you all doing racing around like that!” Lorcka shouted. “That was so stupid! And now our parents are going to forbid all of us from playing in the water alone until we’re all 80! You could have killed Bettelenian!”

“It was an accident! We didn’t-”

Bettel whimpered and everyone fell silent, coming in closer to make sure he was okay. He just wanted to go home and lay in his bed.

“It’s okay, Bettel. You’re going to be okay. Let’s get you back.”

Bettel nodded and opened teary eyes to watch over his uncle’s shoulder at the ruined bits of his and Kelli’s boats floating on the water as the magic boat pulled swiftly away, tugging along the other slightly damaged paddle boat with it.

VTB 6

The Price of War Masterlist

The Price of war: @fleur-a-whump @percy-frayer @starsick1979 @hellodecisionparalysis @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question

@thecyrulik @scatteriskity

[buffysummers]

I’ve noticed such an increase in the amount of hate for Buffy/Angel in recent years. I can’t understand how that can be, especially considering that the level of hate seems really aggressive, obnoxious, and very disproportionate to how the ship is portrayed on screen and in the text. It’s no longer “I don’t like this ship because it’s not my thing”, it’s now people running campaigns to turn the ship into this disgusting and fundamentally wrong storyline that made more of a negative impact on the show than a positive one. I understand that some part of the Buffy/Angel storyline maybe haven’t aged well but if anything, Buffy/Spike has aged even worse and everyone foams at the mouth over them, does rape apologism left and right, excuses abuse, and turns Spike into the most morally superior person to ship Buffy with by twisting all his actions into something they weren’t. It makes no sense. There also seems to be an increase in support for Angel/Cordelia, focused mostly on how much better/more likeable as a character Cordelia makes Angel and how horrible Buffy is for him (which is entirely not true at all).

Why do you think this is? Changing times? People rewatching the shows later in life and changing their opinions? The rise of toxicity in fandom on social media? People feeling the need to prove that their ship is the most “morally correct” so they can feel better about themselves?

I think it has to do with social media and fandom spaces. Also, younger audiences finding the show.

I recently rewatched “Skins.” It was my first time rewatching the show, like I haven’t seen it since I was like, 14/15. I used to ship Effie with Cook. They were seriously everything to me. But after rewatching it as an adult, I no longer shipped them. I didn’t hate them or anything, but I found her relationship with Freddie much more compelling and deeper.

My point is, when you’re young, you romanticize shit that probably shouldn’t be romanticized. You have certain conceptions of love and relationships because you lack experience. When you grow up and actually experience love and loss, you change your perspective and grow as a person.

So, maybe these people find all the melodrama and toxicity of Buffy/Spike super romantic. But in a few years, they may change their tune. Because at the end of the day, no one wants to be treated like shit. It’s not fun. It’s not romantic. It’s not an “epic love story.”

But back to the fandom spaces. Some people cannot think for themselves. And this doesn’t have a direct correlation with age, either. I’ve seen full grown adults on here only enjoy or speak positively about what is popular because they either can’t think for themselves or they’re too terrified to say anything that isn’t the majority opinion. Fandom is intense and very toxic. And this can either silence people from sharing their opinions, or just taint/glorify people's feelings about certain characters/ships before watching the show.

Unfortunately, this probably won't change. It is what it is. I just enjoy what I like and I don't care if people agree with me or not. It saves me a lot of time and energy.

[therealms-number1angirl]

Raisa fidgets, her hands clenching around the steering wheel of her car as Han directs her to park in a lot outside of a large, brick building. 

Han puts a hand on her shoulder, able to read her moods as always. “Don’t worry. They’re going to love you.” 

“Yeah, right.” Raisa huffs. 

“I promise you, after last night, Bird already likes you more than me.” 

Raisa deadpans. “Haha, very funny.”

Han coaxes her out of the car, the heat of his palm in hers sending tingles through her skin at every point of contact. 

Upon further investigation, Raisa notices that the building they had parked in front of was a restaurant, the words, Marisa Pines, written out in gold, cursive letters. A bright, red ‘Closed’ sign was hung in the glass door. 

Raisa was surprised when Han pulls her around to the back of the building, feeling sad when he takes his hand from hers to pull out a key, and open the back door. The door opens up to reveal a stairwell covered in threadbare carpeting. They walk up to a brown door on the first floor landing, and Han grabs another key to open it. 

Raisa stands behind him, her heart galloping in her chest. “Willo!” Han calls out, his hand once more cupping Raisa’s in his. Whether as an act of comfort or to make sure she didn’t run away from him, Raisa didn’t particularly care. 

The apartment was lit in a soft, orange glow. Potted plants are on the ground, hanging from the ceiling, and sitting on tables. Handmade quilts are thrown over the leather seating, fringed rugs on top of the carpeted floors. Multi-colored Christmas lights were decorating the entirety of the room, a tree decorated with mismatched ornaments and erratically placed silver garland. The apartment had a cozy, homey feel to it that Raisa immediately adored, having grown up in a sterile environment that was made to look not touch. 

“Willo?” Han calls out again, dragging Raisa further into the apartment, and into a roomy looking kitchen area. 

Of all the ways that Raisa had imagined Han’s foster mother to look, none could’ve prepared her for the beautiful woman standing at the stove in front of her. 

Willo is younger than Raisa would have expected, younger even than Marianna, who had not been old when she’d had Raisa. She was short, not much taller than Raisa herself. Her copper skin glows, not from the light of the room, but almost naturally, as if there was a brightness inside of her that could not be contained. Her long hair was pulled into a braid that fell down her back, a tan, flowing blouse falling over her dark, brown skirt. When she saw Han, she smiled, and Raisa could swear that it lit up the entire room. 

“Hunts Alone!” Willo exclaims, pulling Han into her arms. He goes willingly, leaning down until his head can rest on Willo’s shoulder, and she rocks them side to side. Willo pulls back, one hand on Han’s face, the other straightening out his hair. “Look at you.” She narrows her eyes at him. “Have you been eating enough at school?” 

“Yes, I have. I’ve even been using the recipes you gave me.” Han tells her. He looks over his shoulder at Raisa, and gestures for her to come closer, which she does, hesitantly. Raisa has never been a shy person, but standing in front of this beautiful woman that seems to love Han so much makes her feel nervous. “Willo, this is Raisa.” 

Willo grabs Raisa’s hands into both of hers. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Raisa. Hunts Alone has told me so much about you.” 

Raisa raises both of her eyebrows, glancing at Han. “Really?” 

“Oh, yes.” Willo nods emphatically. “He has talked about you non stop for the last several years.” 

“Okay, Willo.” Han jumps in, and Raisa is fascinated to note that his cheeks are glowing a bright red. “Where is everyone?” 

Willo looks around the empty kitchen, as if just now noticing that they were her only guests. “Fire Dancer just called to say that he and Cat are 

“Which is code for ‘last minute gift buying.’” Han informs Raisa. 

Willo continues as if there had been no interruption. “Bird is downstairs, working on some of the books.” 

“On Christmas Eve?” Raisa’s eyebrows furrow. 

“She does it to get out of helping in the kitchen or doing extra chores before me and Dancer get here.” Han tells her. 

Once more, Willo ignores what Han says. Her eyes light up as another thought occurs to her. “Oh, and—“

Suddenly, a door swings open, and all three of them turn around to face the young girl standing there, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

“Han!” She yells, running at Han full force, and jumping into his arms. “You’re here!” 

“Mari!” Han is smiling so wide that Raisa can see all of his teeth, an expression that he wears too far in between in Raisa’s opinion.

First | Prev | Next

[heartlandians]

Heartland’s Shaun Johnston Gets Candid In Fan Q&A

Shaun Johnston (aka Grandpa Jack Bartlett) recently sat down to answer some questions that weren’t answered in our latest Fan Fest event. Read on for juicy behind-the-scenes questions and answers!

Shaun Johnston: Hello folks! I have some questions here from Heartland viewers.

Ovie Agege asks What inspired you to join Heartland?

Shaun: Well, Ovie, I didn’t exactly “join” Heartland as much as I was lucky enough to be chosen to be in Heartland. I did auditions for the role of Jack. And what do you know all these seasons later? I’ll tell you one thing, it’s the best role I’ve ever had.

Lacey S asks Will you guys make a Heartland movie?

Shaun: Excellent question, but I don’t have an answer for you. I wonder that myself sometimes. We did make one Heartland movie a long time back. It was a Christmas movie, and we all loved making the Christmas movie, so personally, I would love if we made a Heartland movie. I hope we do!

Brooke_wymer asks When you and Amber sing a song for a scene, how do you select the song?

Shaun: Well, Brooke, we write one! Every time that you have heard Amber and I sing a song in Heartland that is an original song that has been written specifically for that moment in Heartland. Our writers create the scene, and once we understand what the mood and the message is we write a song that seems kind of perfect for that moment in Heartland.

Kerri Hayes asks What do you do for fun on your own with your family when not filming?

Shaun: Well Kerri, my kids are all grown up now and so they’re living their own lives and we don’t see them all the time. But we do like to get together once in a while, and, wherever we can that is, you know, Christmases and Thanksgivings and birthdays. Of course, I always have to celebrate the birthdays. You know, we do dinners and such or maybe watch the big game together or something like that. So you know, I’d really like to go on a big fancy vacation one of these days. That’s be really fun. That’d be really nice.

Marren Felter asks Could you let us know where the green Heartland mugs are from or what the brand is?

Shaun: That’s a question that has been asked a thousand times over the seasons and it’s never been answered. Those mugs have been on the show since day one. Jack had his very first cup of coffee in one of those mugs. I think this is kind of how it goes: Way back in the beginning, the art department scoured the land for cool stuff, and, kind of like the American Picker guys, I think they found those mugs that way in some kind of obscure place.

Bridget Masterson asks Have there been filming locations outside of Alberta? If so, what was your favorite location to film in?

Shaun: Well Bridget, nope. We’ve never filmed outside of Alberta. We’ve made it look like we’ve filmed outside of Alberta, but we have never filmed outside of Alberta. Our art department can make Calgary look like New York City or Drumhelller or Alberta. They can make that look like Mongolia when Ty was over in Mongolia for all those episodes. But, nope, we’re just kind of, we’re homebodies, I guess.

Lenwood Mills asks Are you doing any projects in the off-season?

Shaun: Yeah, every once in a while, I do another project. Just recently, this past November, I was in Toronto, Ontario, making a nice little Christmas movie. I do that once in a while and I’ll shoot the odd short film if somebody is asking for me to help out. I like to do that with young filmmakers to, you know, help them learn and find their way in this business.

Kristin Miller asks What do you hope to see happen in future seasons of Heartland when it comes to storyline, character development, horses, filming locations, etc.? Hoping for more after 17, of course!

Shaun: Well, of course! Well, Kristen, that’s a loaded question. That’s a lot of stuff. Let’s see – you know, when we go into another season, what I always hope for is to see the characters that are younger than Jack to see them striving for their own personal successes and happiness. If they’re moving forward like that, it gives this great opportunity for Jack to help them achieve those goals, and that keeps me engaged in their lives.

Stephanie Stertz asks What’s your favorite animal that you guys worked with on set? Did anything funny happen with the animal that wasn’t planned? Did it make it onto the show?

Shaun: I can’t remember the episode, but we had a cougar kitten on set and it was part of the story. Jack finds this cougar kitten and it was such a cute little critter. It was kind of crawling all over me and stuff. What wasn’t supposed to happen and what I didn’t expect was [going to] happen was the sharp claws on this cougar kitten where they were so sharp and his teeth were so razor sharp that I got scratched and cut all to shreds and I was bleeding everywhere. Well obviously you can’t have that in Heartland; that’s not very handsome. So anyways, no it did not make it into the show and it was kind of funny.

Sicily Coburn asks Even if you know the plot of the episode, do you still get emotional over things that happen?? Or the season for that matter?

Shaun: Yeah. Season 9 Episode 4, “Ties of the Earth.” I’ll never forget that episode. I’ll never forget the number of the episode. I’ll never forget the title of the episode, and we’ve made a lot of episodes! You see, that was the episode that Paint [Jack’s gift horse] died. So it was the hardest episode I’d ever made. Even though I knew every detail about that script, I knew every detail of the plot and every detail of the story weeks before we made it. I barely got through that. So it just goes to show that it ain’t what you know, it’s how you feel about what you know.

Source

[darkandstormydolls]

In honor of national siblings day, here’s Leonora and Alexander being siblings! This scene occurs several years before the actual main story, when they’re both still dealing with the aftermath of their parents’ deaths

Leonora eased the door to the living room open. “Moo? I heard you were in here.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here.” Alexander was sitting in the middle of the loveseat. Leonora thought he looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulder; he was slumped in on himself, head resting in his hands.

She settled into place next to him. “Are you alright?”

Alexander laughed bitterly. “Alright? Leo, I just lost my parents and now they’re asking me to take on the task of being responsible for the safety of the entire. Damn. Magical. World. I’m flippin’ fantastic.”

“You don’t have to be angry about it. I’m trying to help.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m having a rough time, okay?”

“You think I’m not? I lost just as much as you did.”

“Yeah, well, you’re…”

“I’m what?”

“I don’t know! You’re ‘Leonora Lamia, youngest necromancer the world has ever seen’ . I’m ‘Jacob and Camille’s kid’. And now you’re off in the Hollow doing whatever it is you do and I’m here with the weight of the Fires hanging over my head.”

Leonora was quiet for a moment. “That was uncalled for. We’re both struggling.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to go through this.”

“Yes, well, let’s take it one step at a time.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing! I ‘one step at at time’ed my way through the funeral and I don’t know how much more I can handle!” Alexander buried his face deeper into his hands. “I keep thinking that I’m feeling overwhelmed and I want to talk to Mama about it but she’s not here.”

“I know. I know it’s hard. But I’m here. I know I’m not the same, but I’m here.”

“I just don’t know what to do! There’s so much.”

“Well, let’s break it down. You need to choose your circle, right?”

Alexander nodded.

“Alright, that’s one thing. And then we need to go through Mama and Daddy’s things. That’s one other thing. And that’s really just two things, right?”

“I guess. But two really big things.”

“They’ll seem smaller once you get started. Now, first things first; you don’t need to pick twenty people out of thin air. There’s still nine left over from before. And you know them. They’ll help. And you know more about the procedures for this kind of stuff than you think.”

“Will you be one of them?” Alexander asked hesitantly. Leonora shook her head.

“No. I belong at the Hollow.”

“Please? Leo, I need someone I can trust.”

“You can trust Lyx and Aino, right? They’d be better at this kind of thing. And I know you want necromancers to be involved again, but I’m not going to be one of those people. Someone who doesn’t share our last name deserves to be involved.”

“But I don’t know what to do.”

“Would it help if I made you a list? Of some of the people I think might be a good fit?”

“Yes please.

“And I’ll help you clean everything out. Can’t have you getting sentimental over every old dish towel or something anyways.”

“Really? You sure you don’t have too much to do back with your necromancy and things?”

“You know how seriously they take death there. Neither of us will be expected back at the Hollow for a month at the least. And besides, you’re my baby brother. I’d do anything for you.” Leonora paused and considered this for a moment. “In the ‘murder’ or ‘giving up an organ’ sense, of course. Not letting you finish my dessert.”

Alexander gave her a half smile. “Still your ‘baby’ brother? Really? Haven’t been updated to ‘younger’ yet? Or even ‘little’?”

“Never. You’re just a little baby.” She ruffled his hair affectionately.

“I’m a fully grown adult. Soon I’ll be the holder of what just may be the most powerful object in the Fires.”

“Still a baby. Forever and ever.” Leonora stood up. “Now, can we try and get at least one thing done? Look through one bookshelf?”

“Alright, fine. Maybe I can manage one.”