#because neither paid any attention to my fly

[lies]

.

[brokenmenswhore]

HI I luv ur writing 🫶🏻 I have a request for jace x fem dragonrider reader. And I just rlly wanna read abt a dragonrider reader whose hella impulsive and fiery. I was thinking abt the scene where baela was scouting and she chased cole, but with reader. And reader was also close with Lucerys so his death just fuels her rage and desire for revenge. So she just goes ahead and burns them despite being told not to engage. But ofc reader gets reprimaded at the council but then explodes abt not regretting what she did becos it was for Luc 🥺.

Feel free to add more angst, fluff, etc. hehe i would just like to read more abt jace x dragonrider reader (who isnt afraid to use her dragon and is basically another fem daemon🤣)

THANK YOU FOR EVER CONSIDERING THIS💕

writing a daemon-level female is my favorite thing on this planet ok

cautious / careless | jacaerys velaryon

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

warnings: language, this isn’t as much jace x reader as it is just the reader fuckin around

────── ☾ ──────

“Okay, so naturally I’m the best choice.”

The men of the council, along with Rhaenyra, all sighed in unison. The True Queen had suggested a dragonrider to fly near King’s Landing and scout the area, and you immediately suggested yourself. The argument had lasted a total of ten minutes so far.

“Moondancer is a much more discreet flyer-“

“I really don’t care about being discreet, and neither should any of you. If you want to know what the Green Army is up to, send me. You know I’m the most capable here. My dragon is quick, as am I. I’m going.”

“It is not safe,” Jacaerys said from his position standing beside you, his voice low as if he was trying to calm you down and bargain with you.

“I appreciate your concern, truly,” you responded, turning to address the council again, “but I’m going. Do any of the men on this council dare to contest? You may do so on dragonback, if you say yes.”

The council looked around at one another, and no one said a word. You smiled triumphantly.

When the meeting ended, you began to exit the room, Jacaerys hot on your heels.

“You know this is not safe,” he spoke, catching up to your side, “what are you thinking?”

You stopped in your tracks. “I will not engage, as I told your mother. What could possibly be the harm? Besides, any harm they try to inflict upon me will only in turn befall them.“

“You are too angry over Lucerys to do this,” Jacaerys said, fighting to stay in your eye line as you threw your head backward in frustration and annoyance.

“And you are not?”

Jacaerys had also suggested himself to go, but did not contest for a second when his mother said no.

“I am more level-headed than you.”

“And that is perhaps your least fun trait,” you responded, standing your ground.

“Will you please just promise you will be cautious?” he pleaded, taking your hands in his.

You rested your forehead against his, taking a deep breath. “Only because you wish it so.”

Jacaerys smiled, tilting his head upward to give you a soft kiss. He remained with you until he saw you off, watching your dragon take flight as you disappeared into the horizon.

You paid intent attention to movements beneath the treetops for the better part of three hours, scanning every inch of ground you could see. Finally, you spotted the shine of silver armor in the distance.

You smiled to yourself and flew even closer to the ground, swirling around the group of men as a warning. Upon closer inspection, you saw Aegon’s Hand, and Lord Commander of The King’s Guard, Ser Criston Cole. Seeing such a prominent face from The Greens alongside an army of men fighting to keep Aegon on the throne, despite everything it had already cost, set something ablaze within you.

Do not engage. The words from your queen rang in your ears, but you could not help it. Jacaerys was right, you were angry, and you were impulsive. Every Targaryen was made of fire, but yours tended to burn hotter than most.

“Fuck it,” you muttered to yourself, commanding your dragon to fly even closer to the ground, nearly knocking some of the men over from the wind gust of her wings.

“Dracarys!” you shouted, watching as your dragon opened her mouth, fueling before spitting fire across the entire field, drowning your enemies in flames.

You watched the men fall, scream, run in terror, and all eventually give up as you commanded your dragon to retreat, flying back to Dragonstone. You had done your part, and you were happy with it.

You decided halfway along your journey home to stay in the sky, enjoying the warm air of the breeze that hit your face. Your dragon enjoyed herself, flying in circular dives and grazing her wing against any large enough open body of water. You did not want to return before the news reached Rhaenyra. You wanted her to know, and you wanted to let it marinate before she saw you again. She needed time to calm down.

Come nightfall, you had reached Dragonstone. The moment you dismounted your dragon’s saddle, Jacaerys stomped toward you.

“Gods, what were you thinking? You promised me you would be cautious,” he bellowed.

“I was cautious,” you replied nonchalantly.

“You were careless,” he spoke, matter-of-factly.

“Ouch, Jace,” you responded, beginning to walk, “I was not careless. I was rather deliberate, I dare say.”

“Why would you do such a thing when my mother specifically asked you not to?”

You sighed. “She is not my mother.”

“She is your queen.”

“The only person in this realm who’s desires and opinions matter to me, is you. Now, are you truly mad at me, or is this an extension of your mother?”

Jacaerys took a deep breath. “I was worried. I just cannot understand why you would endanger yourself, why you would do against your queen’s wishes, why you would-“

“They murdered Luc, Jace.”

You exchanged a glance, understanding emanating from one another’s eyes. Though Lucerys was not related to you by blood, you still felt the sharp dagger of pain that followed his death, and your heart ached for his brother, who was handling it better, but perhaps in even more pain than you.

A tear escaped onto Jacaerys’s cheek. “The doubt that the one responsible would ride horseback with an army of men fighting for his brother’s claim.”

“Aemond is lucky for his absence. I would have done much worse had he been present.”

Jacaerys sighed. “You know you must face my mother at some point.”

“She does not scare me,” you responded, holding Jacaerys’s hand as you entered the castle.

A member of Rhaenyra’s guard approached you as soon as you entered a corridor. “The Queen requests your presence in the council room, My Lady.”

You smiled. “I would expect nothing less.”

When you entered the council room, you saw that Rhaenyra called the council to convene, but no one was seated or professional. Everyone was scattered around the room in whispers.

Rhaenyra turned toward the sound of the grand door swinging shut behind your confident frame.

“What were you thinking?” she spat.

You shrugged your shoulders. “I was thinking that Criston Cole would look better burnt to a crisp. Hotter, at least,” you jested, and Jacaerys snickered behind you. His mother’s features remained stoic.

“You had no right. You were under my orders to remain high and to not engage. What would persuade you to so blatantly disobey your queen?”

You sat down in one of the chairs, propping your feet up on the table. “Do you mean to speak that they did not deserve it?”

The men in the room turned their attention to Rhaenyra, who was taken aback by your question.

“There is a method in which we must handle these things,” she spoke, trying to breathe through her words and keep calm, “I understand that you clearly do not understand strategy, or politics, but you cannot simply go around on your dragon and do whatever it is that you wish. Do you hold no retrospective contempt toward your actions? No regret?”

“Regret?” you spat, slamming your feet down on the floor and standing so abruptly that the chair scraped backward against the floor.

“No, Your Grace, I do not regret my actions. Those fucking cunts are responsible for the death of your son. Your son. Or have you forgotten? I merely did what should have been done the moment Vhagar shut her jaw. What I did was for you. What I did was for Jacaerys. Most importantly, what I did was for Lucerys. It was about fucking time that someone did something! So no, I do not regret my actions.”

You huffed, nearly losing your breath from your intense rant. You calmed down and sat back in the chair, nostrils flaring as you glared at Rhaenyra.

“I understand your frustrations, believe me,” she spoke, “but you cannot just do as you wish, not when you act as an extension of my cause. Do you understand?”

“I am not an extension of your cause, Your Grace, I am my own cause,” you spoke, beginning to leave the room. When you reached the door, you pivoted, turning back to her. “I apologize that this has caused you strife. But I do not apologize for what I did. I simply gave them a peek of what is to come.”

You left the room, and you could hear Jacaerys running to catch up to you.

“What is it, Jace?” you sighed, turning around to watch his final few steps as he finally reached you.

Jace stilled himself. “Thank you.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “For?”

“For sticking up for myself and my brother when even I cannot.”

You smiled, finally calming down and pulling Jacaerys into a hug. When he pulled away, it was only to hold your face in his hands and kiss you, his favorite way of thanking you.

“If you like it when I burn people for you, I have an entire list of worthy individuals.”

Jacaerys giggled. “I don’t want to picture burning men when I’m kissing you.”

You shrugged. “Sorry, too late.”

Jacaerys made a jokingly disgusted noise as he intertwined his fingers with your own, accompanying you on your exit.

[powderblueblood]

I know this has been done a million and one times, but Eddie just vibing at the gas station. Something inevitably goes wrong. Please and thanks dear Powder

jo my love i present to you 1k+ words of eddie munson's no good very bad wednesday night no warnings! just silly. and acab includes hopper

So it's eight thirty on a Wednesday night, the very armpit of the week, and Eddie's standing there under the glare of the gas station fluorescents. Right in the heart of the snack aisle.

"What's become apparent to me, Sam, is-is-is-is that it's fear. It's the iron claw of the bonds of being a scaredy-cat little bitch that has stunted me fundamentally."

Loaded. So stoned he's stalagmite.

"See, I'm a capable guy. Many capes have I, but it's like, I've finally mastered the fuck-you-chip-on-my-shoulder adolescent thing that I'm reluctant to let it go. I'm skirting around putting on my big boy pants. I'm failing my courses. I'm dumbing myself down to stick around high school, seemingly, on purpose. Because I'm afraid!"

Eddie's pouring his heart out to the narcoleptic octogenarian cashier, the guy that likely built this place out of shiplap and bullet casings way back when it was a horseshit stop for Buffalo Bill's Wild West Freak Show or whoever.

"And I know what you're thinking." Sam isn't thinking anything. Sam's sleeping with his eyes wide open. "Why not really, grr, take root with that family tree, huh? Drop out like my old man and my uncle did? Well, I'll tell ya--"

Eddie wonders, in the middle of his own sentence, what it'd be like to hitch his wagon to an operation like that and coast solely on being a moorless weirdo.

He's really stoned, okay?

"--high school is easy to fail in. Real life? Isn't."

And look, before you get all, he's got good reason. It's been a particular drag of a week, a real sandpaper to the balls kind of kick off. Corroded Coffin's Tuesday night engagement at the Hideout was a special kind of bust--not least of all because the slapdash stage finally gave way under all that threatening creaking, and almost took Jeff's neck with it.

The neck of his bass and his human body. Neither of which Jeff's ass is in any position to fix.

So Eddie's got a band that's bruised and barely in the pocket, and a mouth that won't stop running.

“WSQK 94.5, The Squawk!” Eddie echoes the radio, complete with eagle screech, as the opening chords of Renegade by Ted Nugent & the Amboy Dukes pick up. "Hawk-ening right back to a time when Ted Nugent hadn't yet sold all his actual guitaristry to that pissant Wango Tango-ing... You know what, man, this is it!"

His ringed hands come down on the counter all a-clatter, chip crumbs flying out the bag he hasn't quite paid for yet.

"Lock me in a room full of records under a radio tower and throw away the key, I mean, I would be good to fucking go. None of that shock-jock shit, either. I'd play nothing but real music. The Hawkins Midnight Rambler, huh?" But Sam isn't paying sufficient enough attention. "Think I got a face for radio, Sammy?" Because he's asleep.

It takes a couple of molasses-slow moments for Eddie to register this, he himself still working through his own big sluggishness. I mean, damn, even waving a hand in front of the old man's face is an effort.

He's out, though, like a light. Makes Eddie wonder how this place stays open, much less unrobbed.

Well. Careful what you wish for there, buddy.

His hand is slinking toward a Three Musketeers, ready to nab it from the shelf right under old Sam's nose and write him a little IOU for whenever he next has the cash, but Eddie senses a shuffling behind him.

"Put your fuckin' hands in the air!"

Oh? "Dude, what?"

There's this guy behind him, this guy whose corporeal form Eddie can't be a bajillion percent sure isn't, like, a vivid hallucination, with pantyhose tugged over his face. Poking a pistol around under the cover of his camo jacket. The whole bit.

"Put your hands in the air or I put a hole through ya, asshole! You too, old man!"

Eddie tuts, hands still very much hovering near that candy bar.

"What's the fucking hold up, you and your grandpa tryin' to get shot or somethin?!" this very serious masked assailant demands.

"He's asleep, guy," Eddie says. "He can't hear you."

"What?!" our villain splutters, "Well... wake the fuck up! I ain't got all day and I want what's in that reg--"

He goes to point his still-concealed fuckin' sharp shooter or whatever it is he has at Sam's face, and Eddie, with this strange surge of protectiveness and complete buffoonery, nudges his arm away.

"Don't! Number one, dude's a narcoleptic, you could give him a heart attack if you just woke him up like that--number two, I saw him pull a sawed off from under that counter one time and you're in way closer range so the hole he blows through you is gonna be, like, way bigger and... like, he'll kill you and shit. Be cool."

The would-be thief groans. Oh, god, Eddie just knows he thought this hit job would be way easier. In and out, quick and dirty, wham-bam-thank you Sam.

Eddie nearly laughs. He does laugh, actually, because he's still super-mega fucking high and can't exactly control the noises that come out of his mouth, so next thing the dude is rounding on him with the thing in his pocket. Eddie actually puts his hands up this time. Feels a cold shock go through him somewhere that he really hopes isn't piss.

You ever get that? Get so stoned you constantly think you're peeing yourself? Anyway.

"Get the fuck behind the counter! If the old man can't open the register for me, you're gonna do it!"

"But I don't know how." Liar. Lying ass. Eddie knows how to work a goddamn register. It's not like he's tucking that money from the Hideout straight into his garter belt. Though he could. Maybe he should. Maybe he should buy a garter b--

"I'm gonna tell you how, dickhead!"

"What's in it for me?"

"Is that a fucking joke, wise guy?"

Only kinda. Closed mouths never get fed. "Worth a shot."

But Eddie doesn't really love this dude's tone, so he obediently scoots behind the counter, and almost gets distracted by all the copies of Penthouse Sam is keeping back here. He knew the bastard was holding out on him.

"Um..." Eddie gingerly starts, hands just sort of floating in the direction of the register in a way he hopes to Christ won't disturb Sam and wake him into a world of cardiac calamity.

So the guy tells him what buttons to push, clearly a man of the trade, a fellow familiar with wiling countless hours away behind a counter, which makes Eddie be all, why don't you steal from your own job, you shyster and keeps hitting the wrong buttons on purpose.

But dear old Sammy must have this thing rigged to make Eddie look like an asshole, because out pops the fucking drawer anyhow!

This guy, the pantyhose head, the robber, lets out an honest-to-god yippee! as he reaches over to snatch that cash.

And Eddie, working solely on instinct at this point, narrows his lovely red-rimmed eyes and shoves the drawer right in on the unlucky fuck's fingers.

He screams. And Eddie screams. And something falls out of his pocket. And Eddie leans over the counter, expecting to see and hear the shiny clatter of a pistol hit the lino.

But there is no such hardware.

It was a banana in his pocket. He was not happy to see you.

"What the fuck, man!" they chorus in near unison. They could have been brothers in another life, says some disembodied voice in the back of Eddie's head.

But then, something yellow flies towards Eddie's face and the shock of it knocks him right back into the lotto tickets and cigarettes. Thunk! His head knocks far too hard against the fire extinguisher and now there's two unconscious guys behind the counter.

Now, I don't know if you've ever had a banana thrown in your face by a masked assailant before, but I would call that something of an overreaction.

Anyway, he wakes up to police sirens and that Callaghan dweeb hauling him up by the front of his Hellfire shirt.

"Sshsjesus, Officer Handsy, buy a guy dinner first," Eddie slurs, head pounding. Callaghan's dorky Buddy Holly glasses have an aura around them that he unconsciously tries to swat away.

"He's resisting arrest!" Callaghan yells.

"Keep it down, I have a headache!" Eddie blinks once, twice, twenty-million times and is still having a tough time taking stock of his surroundings. Cash drawer's open and empty, and Sam is nowhere to be seen. "Didja catch the guy or what? He had a banana gun. Threw it right at me."

"Pipe down. Edward Munson, you're under arrest for armed robbery--"

"--wait, hold on--"

"--endangering the elderly--"

"--hold the fuck on!"

"--and swearing at a police officer!" Callaghan clicks the cuffs on and Eddie's about to burst, he's so mad and his head is pounding with such a fury. Shuffling him out into the forecourt and into the squad car like some kind of penguin idiot!

"That last thing isn't even real!" he spits, "None of this is real--I was trying t--fuck, did you not hear me about the banana gun?!"

"Reminds me to drug test him when we get back to the station," Callaghan puffs as he slides into the passenger seat.

"No one's drug testing anybody," Chief Hopper grumbles from behind the wheel. "We don't even have those facilities. Plus, kid doesn't even have any of that stolen cash on him."

"Thank you!" Eddie barks from his seat in the back. He can't really seem to sit upright, and he doesn't know whether to contribute that to the lump that's risen on the back of his head or the drugs that are definitely still in his system.

"W--well, why are we arresting him, then?" Callaghan blubs. Which is actually a salient point.

The Chief shrugs. "I'unno. Wednesday night. Somethin' to do."

[luminouslywriting]

Hi. I have to say I’m loving all this Brady attention. And I love your writing!

May I request some headcanons for a John Brady being in a relationship with a woman on base.

Thank you and have a great day ☺️

Ahh me as well Nonny! John Brady has solidly had my heart since the minute Marina and Bee started posting about him haha! So I'm happy to share the brainrot for him. Keep sending in your requests and your thoughts! I seriously love it!

Cut for length, more below the cut, and some light spice sprinkled in:

-I think for someone as focused as John Brady, it had to have been a happy accident for him to fall in love with you and commit to dating you

-So my genuine first thought is that you're a nurse and that everyone in his crew gets sent to see the doctor on base after that disastrous first near-crash landing

-And of course, he's all grumpy and pouty because, ya know (France was France), and that was ROUGH

-But you come into his life with the smile that rivals the damn sun and everything after that just sorta clicks into place

-He's a lowkey lover that has eyes only for you—I imagine that only a few people, if any, would know that the two of you are dating or even together

-And he's taking his time and making the most of the moments that he has with you

-Because his time on base is so heavily monopolized by work and same as yours, it's stealing moments together

-Ducking behind barracks to kiss

-Lingering kisses because neither of you wants to go but it's already late and you have a shift and he's flying a mission

-Small little gifts that are left for one another; it's a small flower plucked from the field that you find at your work station, it's the extra blanket he finds on his bed, or the little notes that you sneakily leave for one another to find

-MAKING OUT IN HIS PLANE, I'm sorry, I don't make the rules here

-Stealing Bucky's jeep when he's super drunk so that the two of you can get some alone time

-He beelines for you anytime he ends up in the hospital wing

-And he loves the tender and gentle touches you give him, a swift and small kiss to the cheek, etc.

-CUDDLING!!!! I just know that he gives the best hugs and the best time on base for him is that early morning before everyone else is up, when you and him are just entwined in one another and he gets to hold onto you

-Dancing together at the parties, but not too many times in a row because you don't want anyone getting any ideas about the two of you

-This man is writing love letters, sonnets, the whole 9 yards anytime he's parted from you

-Sunday afternoon walks together, where your hand is in his and he can pretend like the war is over and you two are actually together

-He definitely has a few dreams about you and he (both spicy and sweet), and this definitely plays into the way that he shows you love later

-If any of the boys flirt with you on base, he does get a *little* jealous and possessive and that might mean a hookup in the hospital wing's supply closet later

-Loves twirling you around

-Husky compliments in between hot open-mouthed kisses

-He keeps your picture in his jacket when he flies

-This man prays for you every day and is literally so devoted

-Probably has already planned out the entire proposal for when the war is over

-Definitely wrote home to his family about you....like Day 1 in Europe

"Ma, look at Johnny's letter! He mentioned something about France and some girl??"

-That kinda thing haha

-Always holds the door for you

-EYE CONTACT is so huge to him and so you best believe that if you're in the room, his eyes are going to be on you

-Is really gentle and giving when he's with you

-HAND KISSES because your hands do so much good as a nurse

-Being there to reassure one another that things are going to be okay and that there's hope for all of you

-And once he's in the camp? OH THIS MAN IS SINGING YOUR PRAISES. And no, neither DeMarco or Bucky is getting paid enough to listen whenever he wants to just talk about how nice you smell or how your hair feels.

-I just think it would be a really tender relationship that so clearly has a bright future, even when he's in the camps

-He's writing to you dutifully and as often as he can and your future together is the thing that keeps him going

[zoetic-tome]

Prompt 18: Petty Remarks

Prompt: Hackneyed - FFXIV Write 2024 

Characters: Talia, Strix, mentions of Sinnan, Idristan, Jadias 

Content Warning:

It was no uncommon thing for rumors to fly around the faerie courts. 

It was no uncommon thing for those others among the lords of Sinnan of the Night’s court to criticize the Night’s Consorts out of the audible range of anyone but their own individual supporters.

Twilight had taken to disguising themselves and traveling among them to listen in. Sometimes the critiques were valid and they had no dispute against them; Twilight and the Moon did tend to spend most of their time on a different mortal world. Their pursuits were not the same.

They were both mortal-born and raised, even if Twilight was half-fae before they were gifted their star. Other fae would never dream of such a dereliction of their duty as the lords who sat beside their ruler’s throne. 

Even the youngest three did more work than them. And had they seen Twilight’s hobbies? Metal strewn all across the floor of their audience chamber when the Prince went to call. How very mortal. How dreadful and disgraceful.

When Twilight shifted into view behind them, the minor lords whirled at the shadow that loomed over them, red hair bright as Twilight leaned forward into their field of vision. Both fae paled at the encroachment. 

“Shall I tell Sinnan that you disapprove of the metal I leave everywhere?” Her voice was quiet, soft and lilting in a way that reminded them of the calm before a sudden storm. “I’ve heard less trite insults and arguments on my lack of enthusiasm from lesser lords than you.” 

Her mouth curled up at the corner, and elongated canines gleamed, the duo shifting backwards until wings flattened against the wall. 

“I foster more belief than you know. Just because the number of deals I make is minimal, you’d do better not to doubt me.” She smiled, her mouth curving upwards as she leaned back away again. “Or next time I’ll introduce you both to my gun, and you can explain the absence of bullets in my chamber to Sinnan yourselves.”

Dual figures paled in unison; they had heard that he grew agitated when Twilight threatened to shoot anyone. And neither wanted to deal with that particular explanation. Apologies that were not sincere but were definitely meant to keep distance between them fell from their lips as they fled, just about the time Tisiphon stepped out of the shadows he’d been residing in.

“Do they really think your metal habits are that bad? Haven’t they paid any attention to Uncle Jade?” Talia snorted as she turned to flash a smile to their eldest son who was staring at her perplexed.

“Let them talk. Their insults are as hackneyed as the ones about me being half-elezen tend to be.” A hand pat his shoulder and he smiled briefly under his mother’s praise, and then began to slink away when she caught sight of what was in his hands. His dad’s tomephone with a texting window open.

“I’ll give you a headstart, Si, before I tell Idris.” Dark eyes widened and Si turned to flee off towards where he’d left his siblings, as Talia headed in the other direction. 

For as unimaginative as the insults coming from the others were, at least she had the shenanigans of their children to keep her amused.

[lifedeathtimespace]

I'm so obsessed with Secret Worlds and the lyric

"I look at those secret worlds you call eyes"

is so good because at first I saw it as another lyric to add to the song, to reference the title, but when I paid more attention I realised it's about the secret worlds that, like, are your eyes? if that makes sense?

Just think of how often eyes are used to represent emotion, and how he's seeing everything she hides behind her eyes, right?

idk where I'm going with this, goodbye

I absolutely see what you mean but I actually interpret it as being the exact opposite, of not being able to see beyond her exterior anymore! This song actually devastates me for this exact reason, so here's an unnecessarily long dive into it.

Essentially, I interpret this song as being about knowing you can never go back to your youth. We start off establishing their past, the wild nights running free together and filming their drunken antics on a stolen camera. And then we get these lines:

"If I have to be who I was (You're not) / Do I have to be who I am?"

He isn't who he used to be on those nights, and she knows it. They both know it. Who he is now is a different man, and does he have to be this person? Can't he just go back to who he was? Back to when they knew each other well enough to climb together? No, because neither of them can keep up with each other. They grew in different directions, live different lives now. We know she used to climb with him, as evidenced in the chorus sung by them both:

"We climbed so high / high into the night"

But then in the bridge she sings:

"You ask me to climb / I never learned"

And actually even as early as the second verse she says

"I called as you climbed / and I'd catch you every time you fell"

Which suggests to me she never did climb, it was always him tearing ahead into the distance while she stayed behind, talking to trees and watching him fly away.

Which brings me onto the eyes (finally, I'm sorry it took me so long to get to the actual point you made haha). What I found most interesting about this isn't so much the secret worlds part, as the "you call eyes". It almost feels like he doesn't believe her? Perhaps because he can't see through them any more? Those secret worlds, so strange and unfamiliar to him, can't possibly be the eyes he used to know so well, not when he can't recognise them. And there are so many references to this shift in their relationship, off the top of my head:

"There's something changed"

And

"In years to come we both know we won't be the same"

Things are different now, what once was between them is gone, replaced by secret worlds and unshared memories of climbing together. The past is gone, they've both grown up and grown apart, and they can never go back. They'll never be young and free like they were, never have the opportunity to relive those nights or reconnect in the way they both wish they could.

And even still, they would do anything for each other. They will always share their fire, their passion, their devotion to each other and to this life of pure, exhilarating freedom they once had.

"You ask me for a lighter / I gave you my fire"

In the past and

"If you ask me for my fire / just watch me burn"

In the future.

There's something changed, in the secret worlds of her eyes, in the trees they used to climb, in the shattered stained glass of their memories, but the love they had will always remain.

[moonlight404-translates]

A3! Moon Traveler | Chigasaki Itaru | Mini Chats Translation

—————

Disclaimer: Neither English nor Japanese is my native language, but I did my best with the translation. By the way, I took some liberties while translating. If you find any mistakes, feel free to tell me.

Practice Conversation 1 

Speaking of doctor roles we’ve done, a remarkable one has to be Azuma-san’s Phillip in the winter troupe play. 

I’ll ask him what he did to prepare for the role and what he paid attention to while acting. 

If I’m not wrong, he used a stethoscope prop for that. I should try to have one with me. 

During the play, there’s a scene where I do a minor examination and treat a wound, so Carlo carries a well-equiped first-aid treatment set. 

If I were to go to the moon, what things would I prepare…? My role study might revolve around that thought.

Practice Conversation 2

Today, a conversation ended up being about the times when we had a cold because of my role as a doctor. 

It seems like Kazunari craves fruit jelly when he has a cold. 

But I get that feeling because I sometimes crave vanilla ice cream. 

Everyone buys fruits or something sweet as a get-well gift when someone has a cold in the dorms… 

Some people buy green onion because it’s good for colds, which leaves the dorm overflowed with green onion. 

However, eating everyone’s get-well gift and sleeping surrounded is the best to get better in no time. 

Practice Conversation 3

Director-san, are you okay? 

Aah, so you cut your finger with paper. Wait here. I’m sure there’s a first-aid kit in the drawer—

I can treat your wound if you let me. Putting a bandage on your own finger is not easy. 

Besides, I’m a doctor in the next play. Come on, lend me your hand.

First, I’ll clean the wound, then wrap the band-aid… This should be enough. 

Does it hurt? 

There, there, good girl. Pain, pain, fly away… just kidding. 

Let me know if you get hurt again. I’ll gently treat you and cast a special recovery spell just for you. 

[hawksonfire]

The Avengers make a bet...

“It was really good of Tony to organize this,” Bucky says, leaning against the wall beside Clint. 

“Yeah,” Clint agrees, pushing his bunny ears up on his head. “The kids at the hospital don’t get to get out much, but hopefully we can make this a ton of fun for them. And their costumes are amazing too!”

“Did you see the one with a tiny bow and arrow?” Bucky asks, smirking. “You’ve got a couple fans in here, Hawkeye.”

“So do you, Winter Soldier,” Clint teases, gesturing at the two kids all dressed up like the Winter Soldier. “And I even saw another Bucky somewhere.”

Bucky flushes a bit, nudging Clint’s shoulder. “Don’t you have an announcement to make?”

“Damn. Alright!” Clint claps his hands loudly, drawing all attention to him. “We’re going to split you into groups now, so make sure you go to your Avenger!” The kids all erupt into cheers, parts of costumes flying into the air haphazardly. 

All the kids in the room stare at him as he starts pairing them off—most of them go to Steve and Tony, which is honestly hilarious to watch. Neither of those two have any idea how to act around children, especially children that idolize them. 

Nat gets a good amount as well, including one adorable little girl in a wheelchair who’s dressed up as Captain America on a motorcycle. The kids that Clint puts with Bruce all requested him specifically, and when Bruce hulks out after a little prodding, all the kids are delighted.

Even though he doesn’t really understand this holiday, Thor gets absolutely mobbed with small children who are dressed like him or Loki, and in one case, a butterfly. “These are all amazing disguises,” he booms, lifting five children into the air with one arm. “My brother would most appreciate this holiday filled with trickery and mischief!”

The remaining few children are split pretty evenly between Sam, Bucky, and Clint himself. Clint crouches down in front of his small group and grins widely at them, signing along as he speaks. “Our mission tonight is to get the most candy out of any of the groups,” he says seriously. “Do you think you can handle being Avengers for a night?”

Kai, one of the kids dressed up as Hawkeye, grins toothily and signs a big ‘yes’. A pudgy little hand slips into Clint’s and he grins as the rest of the kids all shout in excitement. 

“Here we go!” Clint says, leading his group out the door. They’ve got all the Stark Industries employees who wanted to be here being paid overtime to hand out candy to the kids, to give them the truest Halloween experience SI can manage, which is pretty damn nice. 

The night is a whirlwind of corralling kids and checking candy for allergies and making sure every kid is smiling, but by the end of it, every kid’s bag is full. Clint feels a little tug on his hand, and he looks down to see Kai beaming up at him. Thank you, they sign, throwing their little arms around Clint’s leg for a big hug before running off to greet their parents and show off their candy. 

After the kids are all gone, Tony calls for the team’s attention. “Jarvis? Final stats, please!”

“Very well, sir,” Jarvis says. “In first place, with 332 pieces of candy, Team Spider.”

A chorus of cheers goes up—minus Tony, who boos—as Nat stands and bows, graciously accepting the bottle of primo Russian vodka that was the first prize. 

“In second place, with a total of 314 pieces of candy, Team Patriotism.”

Steve blushes as he stands up and bows. “Next year, Tony doesn’t get to pick the team names.”

“In third place, we have Team Thunder with 292 pieces of candy. In fourth, Teams Smash and Squawk are tied with 282 pieces of candy. And with a three-way tie for fifth place, Teams Robocop, Birdbrain, and The Best Team Ever, with 275 pieces of candy.”

“How did I come in last place?” Tony cries indignantly. 

“Perhaps because you kept eating the candy, sir,” Jarvis says dryly. “There’s always next year.”

Tony grumbles and sits back down, pouting as he snuggles into Steve’s side. 

“Sorry you lost,” Bucky says, turning to Clint with a grin. 

Clint shrugs, and holds up a big bag of candy. “All good, I went back and snuck another few pieces after we left each door. Told Jarvis not to count them because they were for me.”

“You gonna share those with anyone in particular?” Bucky asks, eyeing the bag hungrily. 

“Depends on if you can meet my price,” Clint says slyly. “Each candy costs a kiss.”

Bucky grins at him, leaning in and kissing him. “I think I can handle that,” he murmurs, coming away with a piece of candy in his hands.

Clint grins at him. Man, Halloween is the best.

for @winterhawkbingo - Square B2: Halloween Costumes & Halloween Prompt: Whoever gets the most candy wins.

[jade-eclipse-lithium]

I almost buried you alive.

I prefer you actually did.

Is anyone going to tell me what's going on in here??

It's kind of complicated, but [Name of an idiot or a lunatic]-

Got it. Forget I asked.

Why am i doing this? I did not sign up for this.

I have been asking myself that my entire life.

You left the water running overnight.

If this is another water bottle scurrying the place, again, i am leaving.

You know what family stands for?

Fear. Agony. Madness. Irritating. Lies. Yikes.

Chill.

That doesn’t set of any red flags?

You are the red flags.

Please.

You don’t need sin, cos, tan for doing groceries.

You have a weird grudge against those.

I’m better at science not this.

There’s something you’re not good at?

Probably because i don’t know what’s this.

You actually paid attention?

I’m surprised as you are.

It’s stupid!

Hey! Nothing we've done so far has been UN-stupid, and we're still alive, aren't we?

I cannot really argue with that, but I feel like I should.

We risk our lives to do what we believe in, while we might not care for our own lives, we need to care for others who does.

And you care the most.

I do. I am capable of many things, more than many combined. But not even i could guarantee that i would never be injured.

It tickles me.

What if i really tickles you?

If we must fly down pew pew pew fly away and fly down pew pew pew fly away and repeat.

If we must what.

Then why not BAM.

I’m lowering my IQ to understand you.

Successful missions are delightful. But safeties are our top priorities. I do not wish to see anyone getting hurt because of stupidity.

No, neither do i.

None of us do.

So we have a agreement?

No stupid plans.

I think i can look after myself.

You can but that doesn’t stop me from taking care of you.

I THOUGHT YOU WERE KIDNAPEPAPPED.

Kidnapped.

OHMYGOOOOOD.

I am capable of looking after myself but i do not wish.

There is no explanation to that statement.

I simply do not want to.

[Facing a break-in]

Seriously?

I have a weapon and I’m not afraid to use it!

Not cool man.

Really? You came to steal from me?

DON’T LOSE YOUR WAAAAY!!!

Another beautiful day without using sin, cos, tan.

I say the day it’s horrible.

Shut up nerd.

Dude.

Don’t “dude” me I’m right.

We’re going to die.

Think positively!

Quickly, swiftly, painlessly.

[purplesurveys]

1635

Look out of the nearest window. What do you see? Details, please. I’m settled in bed and it’s too dark out to actually see anything, but I can tell you that the only things you’d be able to see are the neighbors’ houses (from my room you can see the houses to the left of and behind ours) and some trees.

When you think of the word “posh”, what springs to mind? The Spice Girls. > Okay, same!

When you have chocolate, do you eat it room temperature? Or are you like me and stick the bar into the fridge first? Well we have to put in the ref because otherwise it will melt and become all messy and a hassle to eat. We also can’t leave it out anyway because ants.

What’s the most shocking thing that’s happened in your part of town? There was a house in this neighborhood that got raided or something a few years back because of drug possession; even got featured on national TV. I didn’t care much for it and if anything the only reason I paid attention was the fact that the route we take going home was featured on the news LOL

Which brand are your headphones/earbuds? It’s a generic, unbranded pair. I lost the earbuds that came with my phone so I just opted for something cheap as I don’t usually use earphones anyway.

Do you see planes fly over your house at all? Yeah they come around fairly regularly.

Are there any constellations you recognize just by looking at them? Just those three stars that are part of Orion but otherwise I’m not good at all at identifying constellations.

Which room of your house/apartment do you spend the most time in? Either my room or the dining area since we let the dogs roam around there.

Which insect do you find the most beautiful? Fireflies.

Did you have crafts/woodwork at school growing up? Nope.

If so, what was the best assignment you did for it? We never had it but we did do some fun things for home econ (although I didn’t find them fun at the time, ha) like sewing, crocheting, cooking, baking, etc.

Do you have a friend who likes to tell you everything? Yes, my best friends love sharing stories with me. Andi’s are usually about their adventures and annoyances in law school; Angela tells me about pretty much everything going on in her life.

What was the last thing you got very excited about? Jihope visiting Jin at the military gave me a level of happiness nobody would ever be able to understand. He looks so happy and healthy and well-fed :) You can go to any city in any country you want. Which city do you go to? SEOUL!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Do you like gardening? If so, what do you grow? No.

Do you enjoy puzzle games? If so, which one’s your favourite? In the Seom. Thanks for reminding me! I’ll need to play it before bed so I can get a few levels up hahaha.

Is there a substance you avoid at all costs? If so, what is it and why? Hard drugs, for obvious reasons.

What would you absolutely hate living next door to? A family with a tantrum-prone toddler.

What would you love to live next door to? A household with ARMY or with lots of dogs. Or both!

What gives you nostalgia? Visiting UP.

When you think of a classy drink, what comes to mind first? Martinis.

Do you prefer eating out or cooking your own meals? Tbh neither; I like getting my food delivered. But if I had to exclusively pick between these two, I’d go with eating out.

Which language do you think is the most complicated to learn? Just about every single form of Chinese. Mandarin, Hokkien, Cantonese...just the way that the meaning of same-spelling words differ depending on the tone it’s said is already super overwhelming. It’s very fascinating.

Is there a place that you might call your second home? UP.

How do you imagine your later life to look like? Satisfaction with who I’ve grown up to become and ended up achieving, and lots of leisure traveling.

What is a job you would never in a million years want to do? Film production. I’ve participated at several video shoots for work and have dreaded every single fucking part of it. The early call times, set design changes, multiple takes...I’m just too impatient for it all.

Is there a piece of jewelry that you feel naked without? No.

Do you ever “go commando”? Rarely.

What’s the sweetest thing someone’s done for you? I have to go with the time Andi gave me a handwritten letter, a physical copy of Petals for Armor, and a CM Punk shirt for Christmas – in the same year. That was the lowest I’ve ever been, so it felt nice to have someone who apparently remembers everything I love.

Which wild animals are a common sight in your area? Just birds and frogs.

What’s the weirdest building in your city? The architecture is not weird per se, but we do have an abandoned Starbucks when you drive up the mountain part of the city. Apparenty the contractor or owner or whoever it is got caught up in permit issues and the store never actually launched, so now it just looks like a sad, lonely Starbucks overlooking the Metro Manila skyline.

How do you keep in touch with friends usually? Messenger. All other messaging platforms are reserved for work, so I don’t like talking to friends on those because it makes me more stressed than anything.

Do you get a lot of visitors? Nah, my friends and I get together at home usually only when there’s a BTS thing happening...so safe to say we’re not getting any of these sessions any time soon, at least until 2025 or 2026.

Is there a subtle way your partner gets you excited easily? I don’t have a partner.

Do you recognize friends’/family’s vehicles by sound? Not me but the dogs are excellent at identifying when my mom’s about to arrive back home.

Which Disney villain is your favourite? I don’t really have a favorite Disney villain. Non-Disney villains on the other hand...Gus Fring will always have a special place in my ever-cold heart.

On a regular day, what do you usually do at 3 o'clock in the afternoon? Neck-deep in work.

Which possession would you not want to inherit from a relative? Clothes. Secondhand clothing makes me feel icky for some reason.

What is something you would never dare to do in public? Uhm...masturbate, I guess??

Would you/ did you have a hen night/bachelorette party? Sure, if I reach that point.

Has anyone taken you on holiday somewhere? If so, where? No. When you left the house last time, where did you go? Just church. Went home right after as all of us were feeling pretty tired.

How did you spend your last birthday? Filed a leave off work and sat on the couch all day until I took my family out for a ramen dinner. Then that same weekend, my friends and I went to Zambales for a quick beach vacation.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hi, can you pretty please write a hero x villain snippet where the villain has captured quite a defiant hero and is like taunting and interrogating them??

“Little hero,” they said. “It just dawned on me. I am your raven.”

“Lovely.” The hero spit on the floor, missing the villain’s foot by not much. “Whatever that means, I don’t really give a fuck. I am not telling you anything.”

The villain watched them carefully, making sure their patient eyes wouldn’t miss a single thing. Their stance was poised. Arms behind their back, their body’s posture a single robust line, vertically standing in the room.

The hero should have been petrified. It wasn’t like the villain had any compassion in their heart. Neither were their methods characterised by any of it.

Pain was effective and the villain didn’t just know that. They used it.

“Oh, look at you. I captured you, bound you to my chair, you’re going to crawl through hell in a second…and yet, you fight.”

“Please spare me with your stupid gibberish. It bores me.”

The villain’s arms moved, crossing in front of their chest. It was chilling how they paid no attention to the insult. An emotion was something the hero could handle easily. They knew how to manipulate someone but with the villain, all hope for that was lost.

It was fruitless to try over and over again. So, they had decided to stick with insults, instead of toying with the villain’s emotions. But even that was to no avail.

With one quick step, the villain was in front of the hero. And with another fast movement, their knee rested on the chair, right on the seat where the hero’s thighs didn’t occupy any space. So, right between the hero’s legs and dangerously close.

The villain leaned down, one hand on the chairback, the other catching the hero’s jaw.

Without saying anything, the villain forced them to look at them. But the hero refused.

All of it happened in the matter of seconds and all of it left the hero’s lungs without oxygen. Panic didn’t set in, not yet though.

“Ravens are omens of death,” the villain said slowly, weighing every single word on their tongue to make sure their part of the — the hero assumed — colloquy was perfect. The hero could practically feel on their cheek how the villain’s eyes picked them apart little by little.

“I’m pretty much alive. I guess you’re a shitty omen,” the hero snarled, gaze fixed on the ground.

The villain took a deep breath.

“Do you know why ravens are an omen of death?”

“Enlighten me before I free you from your tongue.” The hero’s head snapped around, the movement almost making their noses brush against each other. They stared at the villain with all the disgust and hatred they could summon.

Something washed over the villain’s face. The hero feared it was amusement.

Their hypothesis got confirmed when the villain started smiling cruelly.

“They are carrion birds and in medieval times, you would often see them flying above marching armies. Ravens are extremely intelligent. They had learnt that large groups of armed men are, in fact, a walking promise for a meal.” The villain tucked loose hair out of the hero’s face and the hero couldn’t do anything about it. “They knew what was about to happen. They knew what people do. They kill. And when the cries got quiet, when the survivor’s pleas ebbed after the battles, they would tear off the warm flesh of the corpses to devour the meat. I don’t need to tell you their success; cultural depiction already does that for me.”

The villain’s nails dug little half-moons into the hero’s cheeks. There was the pain the hero had expected, the pain they could probably bear, the pain they were used to.

“What I am saying is, I am your omen of death. I am a warning. I will tear off the little shreds that remain of your mind. I will dissect it, I will use it and I will destroy it and with that, you completely. I will not rest until you tell me all your little secrets, until I know everything. You better start building walls because I will merely stop when I get the information I want. When I get to eat the last rotting flesh your mind can offer.”

The hero was quiet.

“If that’s not enough of encouragement, then let me remind you of the people you have found broken. The people I broke. You told me I was a monster. Fine. So be it.”

The hero looked up at them and the villain’s expression didn’t indicate compromise.

“I will become death itself if necessary. I will start torturing and I will start killing in front of you. So, be a little darling and do what I want.”

The hero couldn’t breathe.

“Tell me everything about you.”

[thebatfamfanatic]

Six Times He Met Her

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, guy taking advantage of a minor in first chap, mention of underage smut in fourth chap, making out?, violence, mentions of blood/injury, main character death, adult language, angst

A/N: First thing I’ve written on Tumblr!! Tell me if anybody likes it, or if I broke your heart. And yes, I know I’m evil.

1-

The first time he saw you was around 2:30 in the morning. Jason was squatting on the edge of a rooftop in Gotham, surveying the dark scenery below him.

Somehow, there was still plenty of traffic on the dirty streets, plenty of cars honking and driving around. Jason always wondered who the fuck needed to be somewhere at 2 am.

He fiddled with a loose seam on the Robin uniform he sported each night, hunting down the assholes of Gotham (pretty much 70% of the city) and putting them in jail, where they belonged.

At 16, Jason Todd technically should have been in bed, maintaining a healthy sleep schedule and doing some rich kid shit during the day. Of course, his adoptive (long story) father, Bruce Wayne, richest playboy in Gotham, employed him to be his little tweety bird sidekick at night, so here he was, at the rendezvous watching the streets. yay. A scream came from an alley nearby. Jason stood, stretched his legs, and leaped down from the roof onto the ground. He pinpointed the alleyway where the noise was coming from and raced into it. A girl, about his age, had been cornered by some bitch dude who thought he could take advantage of this girl. Not on Robin’s watch.

Before the girl could scream again, the guy was on the ground and Jason was helping her up. She shakily took the hand he offered her and looked him in the eye. Shit, she had gorgeous eyes. Jason froze for a second, lost in her beauty, before clearing in his throat.

“Hi. I’m Robin, uh, you probably knew that. Are you okay, ma’am?”

He hated the squeak that came out of his mouth. He sounded like a fucking 5 year old. The girl raised her eyebrow. She had recovered rather quickly. “You don’t have to call me ma’am. I’m not some rich-ass royal whatever from Britain.” Jason liked this one. Sassy, but just so. He inquired where she lived, and she gave him the address. With his grappling hook at the ready, Jason pulled her closer to him. She jumped at the sudden closeness, but seemed to enjoy it. Maybe? He didn’t know shit about girls.

Jason shot the hook, propelling them up in the air, and landed on a rooftop. They continued this routine until he got in front of her house. It was still several seconds before he released her waist.

She started to walk towards her door, before stopping.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Sorry, what?” Jason blinked.

“I thought you were smart, Robin. Its my name, dumb ass.”

Then Y/N disappeared into her house. Jason stood there foolishly outside on her front lawn for a while, thinking about the girl he had just met. She was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he realized 10 minutes later that he had forgotten to ask about where her family was and everything.

Oh well. Bruce would be expecting him anyways. Jason shot his grappling hook and started home, still dazed from the encounter.

2-

The second time you guys met was two weeks later. Jason was just Jason Todd, a normal 10th grader living in the shadow of his (adopted) older brother Dick Grayson. Nobody paid much attention to him, and he didn’t really mind. Mostly Jason focused on getting A’s in class and then retreating into the library until Golden Boy’s after school clubs were over.

That is, until you walked in. It sounded as if you had just moved here, and for a minute, Jason felt a little sorry for you. I mean, Gotham wasn’t the greatest place to spend high school, or any grade, in his opinion.

You looked at your schedule from across the hall and then up at the locker next to him. For a second, your eyes met his and Jason was content. Lost in those brilliant colors. And then you looked away and started walking towards him. He realized just in time maybe he should stop leaning over your locker as you stopped next to him.

“Hi. Y/N. Just moved here. Looks like we’re locker neighbors.”

Jason was about to reply with “I know” but restrained himself. “Jason. Nice to meet you. Congrats on moving to this shitshow.”

He managed to not grin like an idiot as you laughed. The sound was music to his ears, like beautiful bells. God, he was being sappy.

“It’s not much of a shitshow when you’re here.” Ooh, she flirts too. Jason smirked as you opened your locker and dumped your stuff inside, pulling out the things you needed for your first class.

The first bell shrieked just as you closed your locker. “See you around, Jason.”

The small smile you gave him made his day, and he almost forgot to get to class. Yes, you were certainly one of a kind, and yes, Jason wanted you. The question was how to get to that point.

3-

You guys had a couple classes together, and frequently sat at the same table during lunch, so it wasn’t long before you were quick friends with Jason. However, the next notable time you met was a little while after he got your number.

Jason was laying on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through Tumblr as he thought about ways to ask you out.

Y/N, would you grant me the honor of going out with me? No, too Romeo and Juliet.

Hey, want to grab ice cream? He had to make it clear what his intentions were. Then it wouldn’t be weird if he kissed you, right?

Oh, god, if he fucking kissed you….what would that be like? Before Jason could start fantasizing, his fingers were flying across the keyboard and he had sent a text to you. What did he do, what did he-

Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to see that new movie this weekend. It seems like something you would enjoy.

Hm. That was actually pretty good. Where did he come up with that?

Jason had just started inspecting his fingers for some kind of sign of being possessed by smooth-with-girls-syndrome when you responded. He looked up and read it quickly.

Sure, I’d love that! Thanks for thinking of me ❤️

A heart. You had put a heart at the end of it. Did that mean you knew it was a date?

Jason sighed. He certainly hoped so.

4-

The weekend date went good. By the end of it, Jason was sure you knew it was a date. The second one passed, and then the third. The third one was when you hesitantly pecked him on the cheek. The fourth was when he kissed you actually. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was just enough for him to take you on a fourth date. An actual “will you go out with me on a date” kind of thing.

He took you to a restaurant in the fancy part of things. You two ate food that two broke 16 year olds technically shouldn’t have been able to afford, but Bruce helped Jason out.

Jason drove you home afterwards and discussed the topic of the upcoming summer during the car ride. What you were doing, where he was going. The entire time, Jason had butterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t sure how to act. Was he messing it all up, or were you actually into him?

Once he parked in front of your house and walked you up to the stoop, you looked at him. He noticed you were biting your lip nervously, and god, why did he think that was so hot? “My parents aren’t home.” It was the softest Jason had ever heard you speak, but he knew what you meant. He smiled gently, and kissed you again. This one was destined to last longer, and before either of you realized it, you had opened your door and you were leading him to your bedroom.

That night was one neither of you would forget, and by the end of it, Jason had officially asked out successfully.

5-

You and Jason spent a lot of time together after that. You met his older brother, Dick (who was very happy for Jason, too happy in his opinion) and his dad, Bruce Wayne. Bruce was cool, but very busy all the time.

By two months, Jason still hadn’t told you his identity as Robin, and he was running out of excuses. One day, you confronted him, assuming he was cheating on you. He tried everything, but he had to go out on patrol.

Jason left that night assuming you were broken up. The entire patrol, he wasn’t himself. Truth was, he loved you so much he was afraid of losing you. That had become his greatest fear. It was that night everything went wrong.

6-

You were out taking a late night walk. Down by the pier, a cold wind was blowing, and as you walked past warehouse after warehouse, you pulled your coat tighter.

You were affected as well, and confused about where you and your boyfriend stood. Did you guys just breakup? Did he love you? Did–

A scream echoed from one of the warehouses. You turned, afraid of stepping closer but afraid of leaving the person. Eventually, your curiosity won over and you climbed up several crates to peer into the window.

What you saw inside almost made you scream yourself. Robin, the hero everybody talked about, lay defenseless and bloody on the ground as a tall man-the Joker- whacked him over and over again with a crowbar.

You gasped, wanting to help, but you knew that would be foolish. You would just get in the way for a minute. Tears started to form in your eyes as Robin weakly cried out from the pain. He looked so…helpless.

Joker relentlessly beat him with the crowbar, and Robin’s mask began to come off. You rubbed the tears from your eyes just as the mask fell to the ground.

“No.” was the only thing that you could muster. Jason lay on the ground in the bloody Robin suit. Jason fucking Todd. There was your boyfriend, being beaten to death by the asshole of all assholes. That was why he kept disappearing at night, because he fucking protected the city!

You were mad at yourself for being so cruel to Jason without knowing what was really going on. You barely paid attention as Batman and Nightwing suddenly burst through the windows.

Joker laughed, and said something you couldn’t hear from the outside. Probably taunting Batman as he watched his apprentice get beat to death.

A fight broke out, Batman lunging at Joker as Nightwing rushed to Jason, laying broken on the ground. You had just enough time to duck as a Batarang came swooping out of the hands of the Caped Crusader and straight through the window you were looking through.

It was then you realized how close Jason was to death, and what you needed to do. The window pricked your jacket as you jumped through it, but you didn’t care. Gymnastics back in 6th grade helped when you landed awkwardly. Nightwing spun around, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that was Dick, which meant Bruce was Batman.

However, none of that mattered when Jason was half dead in front of you. Nightwing- Dick- made no effort to stop you as you knelt in front of Jason. “No, no, no.” You cradled his head in your hands, trying hard not to recognize how limp his body was, and how his chest barely moved as he struggled to breathe.

Jason’s eyes were closed, tears running down his face silently. You were crying as well, mumbling curses and things that made no sense.

“Please, don’t be dead. Please, I-I love you.”

You watched Jason make no acknowledgement he could hear you, watched him breathe once more. His chest rose and never fell.

You screamed and buried your head in his costume, not caring about getting blood on your face. Dick pulled you away wordlessly, out of the warehouse. You barely registered that the warehouse exploded behind you a few seconds later.

Dick let you sob into his shoulder for what seemed like hours. Him and Bruce exchanged a short conversation, both riddled with grief.

Six times you and Jason had met, and that was the last.

[silversatoru]

Can i regurst a gojo x reader smut where y/n is gojo’s ex girlfriend and also a strong jujutsu sorcerer and they get back together asdfghjkl 🥺😂? Tyy 🥺

hehhee yes ma’am here u are!!! i actually loved writing this one (i think i just have a thing for writing gojo lately lmao) anyway! i! hope! you! enjoy!

to heaven and back

gojo satoru x f! sorcerer!reader

synopsis: you and your ex, gojo satoru, beat the hell out of a few special grade curses and then head back to his house to rekindle an old (and kind of kinky) flame

tags/warnings: nsfw (18+), smut, handcuffs, blindfolding, little bit of oral sex, teasing, alcohol consumption, some fluff at the end? just a little

word count: 3.1k

You lifted your elegant glass of random wine that you could care less about knowing the name of, and took a long sip. All of these old rich bastards talked way too much about brand names, aging, and what cheese paired well with each wine. They were missing what was really important — which one would get you drunk the quickest. 

These kinds of formal events weren’t really your scene, and having to listen to a bunch of old, conservative, high-up jujutsu leaders was terribly boring — so why not take this opportunity to get a little tipsy? You deserved it for putting up with all of these assholes. After all, the only reason they invited you to this prestigious event was for protection. If that pesky band of special grade curses caught wind that all of the higher ups from both Kyoto and Tokyo were in the same place, they were sure to launch some kind of attack. The old, wrinkly douchebags couldn’t care less about your opinions of the jujutsu world and how you would change it, they only liked you for incredible cursed technique. 

And so here you were, spitefully wearing your most elegant dress and downing glasses of wine in an attempt to drown out all of the nonsense around you. There was only one thing that could make this event any worse and— 

“Hello everyone! The strongest jujutsu sorcerer has arrived — I know you were all looking forward to my appearance”. 

And there it was. There was that one thing that could make this event any worse. Gojo Satoru.

You dipped your head low, burying yourself in your glass of wine and praying to any god who would listen to not let this man see you. It’s been over two years since the two of you broke up, but he still wasn’t someone you enjoyed running into. 

Gojo was terribly notorious for having a long line of girls at his disposal, and with his incredible strength and annoyingly good-looks, it wasn’t hard to understand why. The two of you had never been in an officially committed relationship, and so technically Gojo was free to do as he pleased — but you were practically dating and your heart ached every time you caught wind of him being with another woman. And so two years ago you cut things off with him for good — you were tired of being the one he always ran back to at the end of the day. 

He’d looked at you with eyes full of pain that night, begging and pleading to stay with him. He showed you a vulnerable side to him that you had never seen before — and he swore to you that if you had asked to make things official, he would have committed himself to you fully. You declined however, because you felt like you shouldn’t have needed to ask for that kind of thing — but maybe that was just your ego getting in the way. 

“Hey, beautiful, I’ve never seen you around before, you must be from the Tokyo campus,” Some random assistant casually leaned against the counter you were sitting at and shook you out of your thoughts.

“If you’ve never seen me before then you must not be very important,” You shot him a distasteful glance, taking another sip of your wine. 

The man’s face lit up with panic — he must not have been expecting such retaliation to his pathetic attempt of flirting. 

“Are you bothering her?” A familiar voice came from behind you — a long, slender hand slapping down onto your shoulder, “Please don’t flirt with my wife”. 

“Ah- Wife? I’m so sorry, sir,” The man stumbled over his words, bowing his head to Gojo and scurrying away. 

Gojo wasted no time sliding into the seat next to you and pouring himself a glass of wine from the bottle you’d already been working on. 

“Really? You’re telling people I’m your wife now?” You gave him a deadpanned look. 

“It worked, didn’t it?” He shrugged his shoulders and took a sip from his glass. 

You rolled your eyes hard, “Why are you here, Satoru?” 

“Same reason as you. The old, conservative pussies are afraid those special grades might attack — so why not invite their two prized sorcerers to protect them?” 

“Fair,” You let out a heavy sigh, “Not sure that was their best move though — I don’t think either one of us is very motivated to save these fuckers”. 

“No, but I brought my students with me today. So, if anything does happen, make sure you put on a show for them,” He winked, already topping off his wine glass. 

You looked over to see a few kids sitting a couple tables away from the two of you, chatting amongst themselves and wondering why the fuck they had to be here. 

And so an hour or two went by, and to your surprise, you found yourself laughing hysterically alongside Gojo. The two of you had definitely drank a bit too much, and your personalities complimented each other a little too perfectly. You shared the same terrible sense of humor and he had quite the knack for bringing out this lighthearted side of you. You had missed moments like this these past two years. 

Neither of you were paying any attention to the current debate that was occurring between the higher ups when a loud crash sent broken pieces of glass flying through the grand hall. Sure enough, the curses had made their appearance and came flying into the building through a now broken window.

“It’s our time to shine, huh?” Gojo looked over at you, and you imagined that his icy blue eyes were swirling with excitement under that mask. 

“Yeah, let’s make this quick,” You found a warm ball of excitement churning in your own stomach — it’d been a long time since the two of you had fought together. 

Your technique revolved around the manipulation of cursed energy and converting it into light. You could wrap yourself in a shield of light, send curse-filled bursts of light at your enemies, and move at the speed of light as well — which was almost as efficient as Gojo’s teleportation abilities. You had a series of more advanced moves as well, but those required more energy output and therefore you used them a little less often.

The two of you were both able to move so fast that the curses really didn’t stand a chance. You found yourself laughing as you flipped through the air, hurling balls of light at the curses as Gojo worked closer in hand-to-hand combat. At one point, while the two of you were flying past each other, Gojo stuck out his hand and gave you a high five, both of you smiling like maniacs who enjoyed fighting a little too much. 

Between Gojo’s Limitless and your extreme agility and bursts of light, the curses were quickly forced to flee. Both of you were feeling much too drunk and much too lazy to chase after them, even with all of the higher ups begging you to do so. Gojo simply flipped them off and stuck out his tongue, saying that he did what they paid him to do — keep the curses away — and now that the curses had been scared off, he was no longer needed. 

“You want to come back with me, relieve more of our old memories together? I remember how much you loved sleeping in my king sized bed,” Gojo looked back at you, offering one of his large, slender hands. 

Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was your stupid, stupid heart, but you reached out and took his hand, “Fuck it, let’s go”. 

Gojo’s house on the outskirts of the Tokyo campus was just as you remembered — sleek black interior with modern furniture and extravagantly silky sheets on his bed — his same bed that you were currently sprawled out on, laying in nothing but your undergarments. 

Gojo joined you a couple minutes later, his bare skin warm and familiar against yours. He pressed a few sloppy kisses to your lips, both of you still incredibly tipsy and unable to stop the small giggles from leaking out between your lips while you kissed. 

“Take the blind fold off you weirdo,” You pulled at the back of the black fabric. 

“Mmm, okay,” He mumbled, undoing the knot and exposing his piercing blue eyes.

“So pretty,” You murmured under your breath — his eyes really were the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in your life

His fluffy silver hair fell down messily over his face, a drunken smile stretched across his lips. His smile quickly turned into a devilish grin as he slipped the mask over your eyes instead, tying a tight not at the back of your head.

“This isn’t what I meant,” You droned, but you didn’t argue — you certainly weren’t opposed to being blindfolded.

“It looks good on you,” He slurred, his words messy and his lips even messier as he pressed them back against yours. 

The kisses seemed to last forever, and both of you were perfectly okay with that — your hands taking their time exploring each other’s bodies for the first time in far too long. 

Gojo’s hands worked their way up your back, tracing lines along your toned muscles until he finally reached the nape of your neck. His fingers entangled themselves in your hair, soft hums coming from his lips.

“I still have handcuffs, if you’re still into that sort of thing,” he mused, massaging his fingertips into your scalp. 

“Damn, I can’t believe you remember what I like. I thought my preferences would have gotten lost among the sea of other women you were pleasing,” You let the snarky remark roll off your tongue, though there was clearly no real spite in your words — you’re both adults and what happened then was in the past now.

“It wasn’t even that many,” He defended, “And you were the only one who ever mattered”. 

“I’m flattered,” You laughed, “Now, where are those handcuffs?” 

Gojo stifled a deep laugh, his hands leaving your hair as he lifted himself up and stood from the bed. When he returned a few moments later, there was cool metal wrapping around both of your wrists. He had two sets of handcuffs, putting one on each wrist and then hooking the other side to the bed posts. 

You were entirely at his disposal now, your hands secured over your head and your vision blocked off by the black mask. 

“I could tickle you right now and there’s nothing you could do,” Gojo observed aloud, pressing kisses up the side of your torso.

“Satoru, I would kick the living shit out of you,” You threaten, goosebumps growing under your skin. 

“Yeah, but you can’t touch me unless I let you,” He retaliated, his soft hands reaching underneath your bra to feel your breasts.

You groaned in response — his Limitless really did make him impossible.

He cupped each of his hands around your firm lumps, gently massaging them between his fingers. His cool fingertips then made their way down to your lower body, swiftly removing your remaining underwear. You were now completely exposed to him, chills running down your spine as you wondered what he would do next. 

You heard a shaky breath leave his lips, his hungry hands massaging circles into your thighs, “God, you’re so beautiful. I missed you so much, you know that?” 

“I’m sure you did,” You breathed, “I’m a wonderful person to be around”. 

Gojo let out a hearty laugh, and you heard what you assumed to be the sound of his own underwear getting thrown to the floor. A few seconds later he was straddling your torso, his warm thighs wrapped around your body. You couldn’t see it, but you knew his massive member had to be right in front of your face now. 

“Remind me what that pretty mouth can do,” He cooed, pressing the tip of his length gently to your lips. 

You graciously granted him access, parting your lips and taking the head of his cock into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the sensitive tip, earning a few twitches from Gojo’s body. You began to bob your head back and forth as much as the handcuffs allowed, a few quiet moans leaving his throat in response. 

He began to move his hips against you, gingerly pushing his member deeper and deeper into your mouth until you were taking the full length down your throat. He groaned and let a few curse words slide from between his teeth — your mouth was wrapped so perfectly around him. Tears pricked at your eyes and a couple rough gags ripped through your throat, Gojo finally pulling away and allowing you to catch your breath. 

After that, you felt a single one of his long, slim fingers slide into your mouth, and you wasted no time wrapping it in your tongue and sucking hard. 

“Good girl,” He murmured, plucking his finger back out of your mouth and moving it down to your aching entrance. 

Between the saliva on his finger and the slick juices around your opening — his finger slid in effortlessly. He started moving in quick movements, curling his finger up into your g-spot each time. A few light moans left your lips, your fists clenching in the cuffs as your yearned for more. His finger felt good, but you wanted the real thing — you needed it.

“Satoru, please,” You practically whined his name, a tiny bit ashamed for how desperate you were for him right now. 

“Patience, love,” He clicked his tongue and your heart did somersaults at the endearing name. 

He removed his singular finger and intertwined it with a second one before sliding them back into your cavern. He picked up a steady pace again, your breath hitching in your throat. Two fingers was certainly better than one, but the continuous teasing was just making you even more desperate to feel his member inside of you. You mumbled his name over and over, small pleads and shameless whispers leaving your mouth as you bucked your hips against his hands.

“No ones fucked you as good as I used to, have they? You’re horribly desperate right now” He clicked his tongue again, removing his fingers and moving them up to your clit. He rubbed the smallest, softest circles against the small nub, your core growing warmer with desire. 

“I won’t make you wait any longer then,” He whispered, sitting back and positioning the head of his length against your throbbing cunt. 

“Please,” You mumbled fervently, any ego or pride that you once had was completely down the drain now. 

Your pleads were finally rewarded, Gojo pressing himself deep into your tight walls. The immediate feeling was complete bliss, your head rolling back in pleasure as you heard a throaty moan creep it’s way out of Gojo’s mouth. His moans were so pretty — god, you’d missed the sound of them.  

He moved in and out at a tantalizingly slow pace at first, your hips bucking and wiggling as you made fervent attempts to make him go faster.

“So eager…” He shook his head, continuing to move at a pace that was absolutely agonizing — you thought you might die if he didn’t rail the hell out of you soon. 

“Please, fuck,” You gasped, “Stop moving so goddamn slowly”. 

“Your whines are so pretty, baby. Say my name and maybe I’ll give you what you want,” He murmured, his voice low and husky. 

“Fucking hell,” You gritted your teeth, “Please Satoru, please fuck me already”. 

“Shit,” He mumbled under his breath, your words sending electricity coursing through his body. 

After hearing you say that, he was quick to give you what you wanted, picking up his pace and wrapping his hands firmly around your hips. Strangled combinations of moans, whimpers, and cries filled the air as they flew from your mouth. You didn’t care how loud or desperate you sounded, you wanted him to know how good he was making you feel. 

The two of you were an entangled mess of sweaty skin and throaty moans, Gojo filling your ears with praises and compliments the entire time. His lengthy member railed into you over and over, hitting that perfect pleasure point with each stroke and sending warm surges of ecstasy through your veins. 

Your bodies moved together in sync, your breaths aligning and your climaxes threatening to arrive simultaneously. After a few more firm strokes, you felt yourself drowning in pleasure — euphoria crashing through your body like waves. Gojo reached his end point just a few moments later, his loud cuss words and strangled moans filling your ears. 

The two of you rode out your orgasms together, and almost immediately afterwards Gojo collapsed next to you. He lazily reached up and uncuffed each of your hands, leaving the cuffs dangling from his bed posts just in case there was a round two in his future. He rolled the sticky condom off his member and tossed into a nearby trash bin, a relaxed sigh slipping between his parted lips. You peeled the black mask off of your eyes, finally able to meet his again. 

He was staring at you with eyes filled with all kinds of emotions — the emotions that he’d been too afraid to admit to the first time the two of you were together. But he wasn’t afraid of commitment anymore, he was absolutely certain about what he wanted, and it was you. 

“Stay with me,” He asked, his eyes pleading with you, “I’m ready this time, I promise. I’m all yours, if you’ll have me”. 

You found a small smile tugging at the edges of your lips as you looked deeper into his eyes, “Of course I’ll stay, as long as you still feel this way when you wake up sober tomorrow”. 

“I’ll feel this way forever,” He pressed his head into you and mumbled into your chest, “And I’ll remind you as many times as you need to hear it”. 

You wrapped your arms around him in response, the two of you fitting impeccably together. He placed a few gentle kisses to your skin before his breathes began to slow. You found your own breathing to be evening out, your cloudy thoughts pushing you closer and closer to sleep. The two of you slowly drifted off together, your heavy breaths falling perfectly in sync.

[light-yaers]

Fools in the Darkness: Chapter One

Darkling x Reader

Warnings: Death, violence, drugs (Parem), NSFW and sexual content. This content is explicit and 18+ at some points.

A/N: I caved. I am a wildly stupid individual who has no control over her actions. I know I might come to regret posting this so fast and thus forcing myself into my third ongoing x reader fic, but I also just generally don’t care. I’m still working on No Saints and Sweet Esacpe, just as a slower pace due to my mental health, but this baby here floated out of me like melted butter. I’ll be alternating between uploading this fic and my currently ongoing others! I just had to get this shit out of my system about Shadow and Bone, fr. 

Fic Masterpost

Word Count - 3.4k

Chapter One

Ketterdam covered up your secrets perfectly. It’d only been a matter of weeks since you’d fled there, after travelling the exhausting journey across East Ravka until the Fold had stood before you; brooding, dangerous, a death-wish just to look at, let alone enter it.

Maybe you had to thank him for one thing, General Kirigan, because without him—

You never would have crossed the Fold on your own.

Maybe Ketterdam was made for a person such as yourself. Dark, danger around every corner, full to the brim with power-hungry men and women trapped behind silks. You’d never warmed to anyone yet, but that wasn’t a surprise—it was easy to hate people in the Barrel, but even easier to take their kruge and send them sailing upon the True Sea without another glance.

Kerch was a merchant port, stuffed with expensive clubs and those with no money troubles, armed and ready to open their pockets if they so wished. There were two sides of the docks—Fifth Harbour; the lavishly bright sector for the rich and wealthy—and the Barrel; a breeding ground for crime, killings and losing all of your kruge in one night.

You’d made acquaintances with the Barrel rats from the very beginning, hearing stories about the destruction they caused. You’d much rather not be on the side of the wealth, but the side of fear.

“I found her wandering the harbour, Kaz,” A petite lady in dark clothes spoke to her boss. She’d dragged you from the bustling harbour, flying you through the dark streets of Ketterdam. You tried to hear her footsteps across the cobblestones, but she left no footprints, like a Wraith in the night.

Kaz approached his desk then, stepping into the small lamp light of his office in the Slat. Kaz Brekker was a man that no one wanted to cross. With his clenched jaw and unforgiving stares, the Bastard of the Barrel was cut-throat in every sense of the description.

“She’s a rat, Inej. Not our responsibility—,”

“Do you see the clothes she’s wearing?” Inej cut over Kaz, stepping towards him abruptly. He stayed in place, looking at his Wraith in the eyes, unwaveringly. He regarded her for a moment, taking all of her in, before turning back to you.

His eyes skimmed you up and down, traversing the darkened and muddied fabrics on your body.

“A Kefta,” He whispered it, his eyes widening. “It doesn’t look like the usual Second Army attire,” He added. You perked up, trying to keep your expression as blunt as possible. After your journey, it wasn’t hard not to show anything—you’d been forced to endure a quiet and agonising journey for a month, while trying to stay in the shadows at the same time.

“Because it’s not,” You spoke up, for the first time since entering Brekker’s office. Kaz turned his attention to your face, stepping forward menacingly. His crow-headed cane slammed the wooden floorboards threateningly, but you weren’t scared—

You’d crossed the fucking Fold on your own. Nothing scared you anymore.

“Who are you?” He questioned, trying to keep his voice steady. Men like Kaz tried not to show off what they felt either, but the curiosity in his tone was undeniable. You cleared your throat.

“How much time have you got?”

Fjerda, 1 Year Ago

It was a risk to take, that was for sure. But choosing whether to go through the Fold or around it was a no brainer. Evidently, it had paid off so far, as you and your sister travelled through the barren coldness of Fjerda, headed for the Ravkan border.

“How much farther?” Your sister chided. She was older than you by a year, but on this mission, you’d taken charge. You shuffled into your pack, pulling out a tattered map and a compass. You set the point to North, calculating the miles you had left to trudge to safety.

Your sister wasn’t Grisha, no—you were. A Squaller; untrained, unenthusiastic about your power and utterly afraid of the Druskelle. But you’d had no choice in getting you and your sister safely around the Fold. There was no other way to go from where you’d first found asylum in Novyi Zem; going through Fjerda was the safest route to the Ravkan army.

You smiled at the map. “Five miles. Then we’ll be in Ravka,” An exhausted but relief filled scoff fell from your lips. You locked eyes with your sister, before the two of you embraced tightly. “We’ll be safe soon,” You whispered in her ear, enjoying the small warmth you got from her bare cheek pressing against your jaw.

“You’ll be safe soon,” She replied, bringing a hand to rest on the back of your neck. She pulled away then, as the tears began to well in her crystalline eyes. “You put yourself in this danger to keep me safe. I’m the older sister—I should be keeping you safe,”

“It was this, or through the Fold,” You spoke, furrowing your brows at her. “I’d rather take on twenty druskelle than step foot in that heaping mound of darkness,” Laughter trickled from both sisters, floating over the snow-covered trees and giving you hope.

You both continued forward tirelessly, mercilessly, trudging through inches of untouched snow and praying to whichever god out there who was listening. You prayed for your sister’s safety, for a safe life for her in the First Army. You prayed that you could stay with her—

A Squaller you were, yes, but over your dead body would you be taken to the Little Palace. You knew that’s where Grisha were trained for the King, you knew it was different. Your abilities didn’t define you; Saints, you barely even used them.

They were unpredictable. And you were scared of hurting those around you without meaning to. Ever since an incident when you were younger, you’d almost been afraid of your own power. You kept it hidden from those who you didn’t know closely.

Those who knew you were Grisha in Novyi Zem called you zowa—blessed, in Zemeni. It also meant Grisha, so you didn’t know if they were simply calling you what you were, or if they were commenting upon how strong your Squaller abilities were.

You’d never even met another Sqauller. You had nothing to compare yourself off of.

With a mile until you hit the Ravkan border, you stopped abruptly. Plumes of smoke rose high above the skies, coming from somewhere further on before you. You stuck your hand out, halting your sister from walking any further.

You were silent, listening for any signs of breakings twigs, compacted snow, or other indications of druskelle being near.

“Saints, you look like a fentomen,” Your sister scoffed beside you.

“Quiet,” You hit back with.

“What is it?” She spoke again, quieter this time, but not by much.

“Quiet,” You hissed.

You both waited another few minutes, silently standing like statues in the garden of the Grand Palace. You let out shaky breaths as you eventually straightened yourself once more, clutching onto your sister’s forearm for dear life.

“It’s okay. We just need to be wary,” You whispered. She nodded in response.

You both set off once more through countless trees and untouched snow. But you didn’t get far—until two druskelle spotted you. Neither of you could speak Fjerdan, and you were a fucking Grisha. This couldn’t have been any worse, when you were so close to being free.

“Hje marden,” One of them spoke. They were both tall, with broad shoulders and the white hair and blue eyes of Fjerda. Neither had beards—they were in training to being full druskelle. The trainees were always worse than their commanders, you thought. They would do anything to prove themselves to their superiors.

You tried not to shake as they circled you and your sister.

“I’m sorry, we don’t speak Fjerdan,” You said honestly. The druskelle immediately changed. Their hands rested upon their guns, ready to fire if need be. You raised your hands to the sky as your expression dropped. “Please! Please, we are just travellers—uh—we are perjenger—,”

“Perjenger? Travellers? To where?” The second druskelle spat.

You glanced at your sister quickly, knowing that if you answered Ravka, you’d both be shot immediately. Ravka was at war with Fjerda—Grisha were at war with Druskelle.

“Kerch,” You said strongly. “We have to go through Ravka and Shu Han. We can’t cross the Fold,”

For a moment, you thought it had worked. The druskelle looked at each other gruffly, muttering some words in Fjerdan. You clutched onto your sister’s arm tightly, not planning on letting her go now until you’d both crossed the border.

“Wait here,” One of the men said, as he began trudging back through the snow. He disappeared in the white landscape, leaving you with one druskelle.

You stayed quiet, feeling the warmth of your sister next to you. You glanced at her then, traversing your gaze over her side profile. Her nose, which was the same as yours; her eyes, brighter and more beautiful than your own, mimicking your mother; her hair, lighter and softer than yours. She was shorter than you, smaller than you, getting a lot of genetics from your mother, while you took from your father greatly. His height, his broad shoulders, his darker hair.

But she was your only family left, your only love and focus and everything.

And you were less than a mile from getting her to safety. You were less than a mile from being free of this Saint forsaken country, full of killers and fascists and men who only cared about power.

It was one druskelle against a Squaller. One against one. You could do that. You could beat him.

That’s what made you push your sister back, falling into the snow slowly as you brought your hands together. The druskelle yelled as he saw your movements, trying to aim his gun at you between your eyes, but it was too late—

In a flash, you summoned a storm that whipped him off of his feet. It circled him, gliding him backwards through the trees as you kept pushing and pushing, ignoring the raging winds as they whipped your hair from your face and agitated the snow on the trees.

“Come on!” You yelled behind you, as your sister scrambled up from the floor to stand beside you. She held your arm sturdily, watching fearfully as the druskelle struggled against the rapid winds that you wielded.

You thought that was it—you could both run with the time you’d bought—but that’s when the entire druskelle camp rocketed through the tree line. They yelled and boomed as they came to aid their brother, pushing back against the furious winds you were trying desperately to wield.

“Drüsje!” The commander yelled, storming through the group as he set up the largest of their guns—a machine gun, aimed and ready fire. You gasped, and for a second the winds wavered—they wavered long enough for the machine gun round to penetrate the small snow snuffed tornado that you’d created—

Until those bullets trickled over the blanketed ground, moving steadily closer and closer—

Until one landed straight through the heart of your sister.

All you remembered was that time slowed, then, as you saw the bullet exit her shoulder blade. She fell to the floor, unclasping her hands from your forearm and collapsing into a shocked heap on the floor. You remembered the way her blood dyed the snow. You remembered the way her eyes stayed open—

And then you remembered screaming.

It was a blur, as you tensed all of your limbs to the point where they yelled beneath your skin. You mustered all of your strength into this one storm; one that was merciless and unforgiving, circling all the druskelle in the clearing around you. You knew that soon all of the air would fade from within the eye of the storm that whipped devilishly around them.

You knew that soon they’d all begin to run out of oxygen and pass out, or better yet—maybe their hearts would stop. Cease to beat, drained of any energy to fire more rounds of bullets or kill Grisha for no fucking reason.

The storm was the largest you’d ever summoned, engulfing the entire druskelle camp and uprooting trees from their homes in the cold, hard Fjerdan ground. You saw them get sucked into your whirlwind, flying high, high, high until they eventually slipped out of the storms’ gusts; then they fell back down to earth, landing aggressively and dangerously on the ground below and being spat out at any random location.

You didn’t stop the storm, not even when you saw a tree fall atop a druskelle, crushing him where he’d stood moments before. The commander was the last one standing, rising above his suffocating men to look at you, face on, menacingly.

“Drüsje like you deserve to lose that which you love,” He boomed, using his remaining energy to cast you to Hell.

You wasted no time when you adjusted your stance, focusing the brunt force of the storm onto him—you decreased the eye of the storm until it flowed over him, and only him, grunting all of your strength into the circling winds that now surrounded him utterly and completely.

You collapsed at the same time that the commander did, falling into inches of snow and crawling exhaustedly to your sister. She was motionless, cold, her lips turning blue by the second as her blood continued to flow on Fjerdan soil. Dead. Gone.

Tears cascaded down your cheeks without any indication of stopping, but you couldn’t sob. It was impossible when you were already holding your breath, too afraid that if you were to breathe, only screams would pour from your coarse lungs.

The clearing was deserted, now, as druskelle bodies laid motionless on the snow-covered ground, their camp up ahead completely destroyed. Broken branches, twigs, tree trunks were dotted around, acting as just another indication of the destruction that you were truly capable of. Saints, you wanted to know if you were a normal Grisha, a normal Squaller, since those old women on Novyi Zem had looked at you like a weapon from the first day you could summon and control hurricanes and tornados at will.

Your fingers found your sister’s forehead then, swiping the hair off of her face. You cupped her cheek, laying your other hand upon her stomach. “Vaarwell,” You whispered shakily. “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry—,”

“Who’s there?” A voice spoke up from just beyond the clearing. You got up from the floor immediately, feeling a strange sense of power surrounding you. You waited silently, until First Army soldiers made their way to the clearing. A few stopped and checked the pulses of the druskelle upon the floor, before continuing forward until you were finally spotted.

A young man approached you slowly, holding his gun tightly, draped against his shoulder. “Was this... you?” He asked, looking you in the eye. His gaze dropped to the ground by your feet, seeing the blood-stained snow where your sister lay dead, before he looked back up to you.

He was joined by the rest of his crew. They slowly approached you, almost as if they were trapping you within a circle of their bodies. You stepped back once then, keeping your chin high and proud. The young man at the front was trying everything to keep you calm, you could see it in his eyes, but what he didn’t know was that you were seething—

And nothing would stop that.

Without your sister, you’d be taken to the Little Palace. Without knowing she was safe in the First Army, nothing would get you through the rest of your life—

You were dead. Inside and out. Nothing would change that.

Without a word, you brought your hands together, far too quickly for any of the soldiers to raise their weapons in defence. You ignored their begs and pleads as you circled them within in your storm, slowly suffocating the air out of their lungs and seeing the way their eyes bulged uncomfortably in their skulls.

“General!” The young man shouted, clutching at his throat as he tried desperately to suck air into his lungs. His voice echoed throughout the clearing, travelling through the trees slowly, until an eery type of silence settled into the air around you.

That’s when he arrived—his horse just as black at the Kefta on his frame, the stubble on his chin and the irises of his eyes. He dismounted, ignoring the cries from the soldiers within your raging storm as he began to approach you, step by step by step, crunching through the snow broodingly.

You knew who this man was; General Kirigan of the Second Army.

The Darkling.

He got ever closer, walking around the circular storm. The gap was beginning to bridge, and the more it did, the more you faltered. He took one more step, and you lost it.

“Stop!” You yelled. “Don’t come any closer, Darkling,” He stopped on command, keeping his arms by his sides, but the corners of his mouth upturned into a smile. “You find me amusing?” You spat.

“By the looks of this,” He gestured to the druskelle. “You were trying to get to Ravka. We’re here to help, yet you’re trying to suffocate my men,” You ignored his words, but you found your energy waning slightly—or maybe your heart was finally giving in. It didn’t really want to hurt anyone else, didn’t want to cause more damage than was already on your hands. “You’re a Squaller?” Kirigan asked, and that surprised you.

“Isn’t this how all Squaller’s are?” You asked in reply. Kirigin raised a brow at you.

“Not usually,” He said honestly. “You’ve never met another Grisha before?”

“I know what you’re doing,” You furrowed your brows at him. “You’re trying to distract me, to make me let my guard down and go with you willingly. I’d rather die than work for the King at the Little Palace,” Your breaths were getting more laborious the longer you held on to the storm. You were losing energy rapidly.

“Interesting,” The Darkling muttered.

There were a few moments then, where he was simply staring at you. Regarding you, analysing you, or perhaps— waiting for you to lose all of your energy. You were in a somewhat sticky situation, losing a grasp on your power with every passing second and feeling the intense gaze of Kirigan to your left.

“Let go,” He spoke softly. “I can see you’re tired, you don’t truly want to kill these men,”

“You don’t know anything about me,” You forced your eyelids to stay open as a wave of exhaustion flowed through you.

“And you know me?” He chided. You moved your gaze to him then, as your limbs finally lost momentum. Your hands dropped to your sides, your storm dissipating into the cold air at the Fjerdan border. Soldiers sucked in breaths noisily, gaining back their vision.

You stumbled back once, forcing yourself to stay standing despite the immense urge to pass the fuck out. Kirigan stayed still the entire time, a softness on his jaw that you hadn’t been expecting.

“Everyone knows you,” You mumbled. “I never wanted to meet you, though,”

Your heart jolted then, when the General let out a scoff. You forced yourself to move. Step by step through disturbed snow, until you were back where your sister lay on the floor. You collapsed to your knees unwillingly, as your body threatened to blackout at any moment.

You laid a shaky hand on her collarbone, curling your fingers up to her jaw. Kirigan moved slowly in your peripheral, turning towards you but staying at the distance he’d always been.

“Don’t take me to Os Alta,” You muttered. “Please, don’t take me,” You looked up at the General with pleading eyes.

“Why?” Kirigan whispered with furrowed brows, as if he was trying to work out why on earth you didn’t want a life within the royal Ravkan walls, living in luxury, fighting with other Grisha and honing your power.

Your vision began to blur then, as black spots dotted the white snow that surrounded you.

You never answered the General, your body gave up before you could—

And all you saw was black.

Tag list of those who were interested from my earlier post (tell me if you want off/on the list): @notawritergettingtherethough @rbg1993 @mayallyourbaconburn @luminous-99 

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Names and Faces

Context:  Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

Word Count: 6,477

---------------

It goes like this:

Nobody wants to separate Anakin from the children in his care until they know more about why he’s here. The gamble paid off, to some degree, and he thanks the Force that it did.

He hasn’t felt that cold in years.

He knows the logic of why the Mandalorians he’s fallen in with aren’t doing anything yet. He’s an obvious Jedi, and they don’t know why he’s here or what he’s doing. Hedging on the Mando’a and the cultural obligation to childcare hadn’t been anything close to sure, but it was... enough. He got lucky that these Mandalorians leaned on those obligations, at least to the point of keeping them all in the same room. He can sense that much, even before he opens his eyes, and he has to be grateful.

The looming hypothermia had probably nudged things in his favor.

Anakin opens his eyes to a guest room of a cell, something well-furnished and cozy, but definitely not meant to be something he can escape from. His saber is gone, and there are Force-nullifying cuffs on his wrists, and he’s pretty sure they’ve taken his--yep, vibroblade’s gone.

Fuck.

His body doesn’t want to move, and he’s still shivering a bit, but he’s mostly back to normal. When he sits up, he notices that there is, in fact, only one Force-nullifying cuff. They detached his arm.

He closes his eyes and breathes deep and tells himself it was probably medically necessary. Large pieces of metal aren’t great for maintaining homeostasis. He’ll get it back.

Probably.

“Ah!”

The voice makes him jolt, and his eyes fly open.

Two cribs, one much bigger than the other. Both are occupied. The larger one has bars, and through it...

“Snips,” he breathes, lurching to his feet and then crashing to his knees, about as graceful as a newborn eopie.

“Bah!”

“Just--just one second,” Anakin grits out, grimacing as he tries to pull himself to standing again. The fact that he’s down an arm doesn’t impact him much, but the shakiness of his legs is... a problem.

“Owwww,” Ahsoka coos with an exaggerated grimace, reacting to his pain with the innocent sympathy of a toddler. She looks, what, two? Maybe? He’s not sure if there’s anything particular about how Togruta babies age. She’s too young for words, clearly.

“I’m fine,” Anakin assures her, even as his heart sinks. She’s Ahsoka, clearly, he knows her in the Force and it can’t be anyone else, but her memories...

She recognizes him, but that’s not saying much.

He manages to get over to the chair next to the crib, but doesn’t trust himself to take her out right now. The snow and the mess of a fight before that haven’t been kind to him. Instead, he just sticks his hand through the bars and lets her grab at his fingers.

He can’t help but smile, really. She’s adorable, and she’s so damn happy to see him.

“Skyguy!”

“Oh, so you are talking,” Anakin says, part of him relaxing just a tad. “I was worried.”

“Mine,” she stresses, patting at his wrist.

“Yeah, your Skyguy,” he says. So she remembers... some things, at least. “And you’re my Snips.”

She squeals and yanks on his hand, just enough that the Force-suppressing cuff clanks against the bars of the crib. “Sky, Sky, Sky!”

Oh, she’s precious.

“You having fun?” he asks, filling the air with words faster than his head can fill with doubts. “Has everyone been nice?”

“Mmmmm,” she grumbles, falling to her butt with a huff. “Doc!”

“Oh, a doctor?” he asks, wondering at his own tone. He never expected to be one for baby-talk. “Was the doctor mean?”

“Cold!” she tells him. “Cold here!”

She taps at her chest, right where someone might check her heartbeat or breathing; the metal would be cold, and also necessary. He doesn’t fault anyone for it. Considering how poorly Anakin had fared, he’s just happy they’re all alive and mostly fine.

He doesn’t know what year it is. He knows he’s not in the year he should be. He’s vaguely aware of the name Jaster--one of the Mandos had said it while bringing him in--but he doesn’t know when Mereel’s reign ended and Fett’s began. He does know both are supposed to be dead.

Has Anakin been born yet? Has Ahsoka? Hell, has Obi-Wan?

Can he give out any real names?

A series of small, upset noises start coming up from the other, smaller crib.

He stands, but Ahsoka clings to his hand and refuses to let go. He can’t pry her off, not without his other arm, but he pulls away with quiet reassurances that he just has to check on... on...

Her brother, he says, aware that there’s more than a slight chance someone has the room bugged. He’s a Jedi in Mando custody. They aren’t stupid, and neither is he.

Obi-Wan’s the most likely to have already been born. Having the same name and face will draw attention, will cause questions, but... he can’t just rename his master like a recently-adopted pet. That’s just... wrong.

Anakin’s less shaky than when he first woke up, but he still has no way of safely picking up the kids. He reaches into the small crib, something twisting behind his sternum, and tickles under Obi-Wan’s chin.

The baby--the infant--looks up at him with wide eyes, too blue for the Obi-Wan he knows, but full of wonder and--

Love, the Force whispers through the cracks in the effects of the cuff.

“Love you too,” Anakin whispers, though he wonders if Obi-Wan would really feel like this as an adult again. Babies love easily, he thinks, and he’s the only adult that Obi-Wan knows right now. Maybe it’s just chemicals.

He stands there for longer than is probably a good idea, with the state of his body, but he can’t help it. Obi-Wan keeps grabbing at his finger and kicking with tiny legs, and sticking a tiny, tiny fist in his mouth as he tries watches Anakin.

It’s all Anakin can do to mutter a stream of meaningless nonsense as he struggles not to cry. He’s always had too many emotions, and right now he’s the only person these two can rely on. He’s the adult.

The door whooshes open.

“The medic said you were awake.”

He knows that voice. He closes his eyes and doesn’t turn, because there are a million feelings in his chest and he’s not sure which one is going to come out first.

“Sky?” Ahsoka questions, likely feeling his worry. “Issokay! Good!”

No, she wouldn’t have the mind to recognize why this familiar face she knows as friend is quite the opposite.

Anakin turns away from the crib, and smiles. “Mando.”

“Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker,” the teenager in the door says. He’s not wearing his bucket, but the rest of his armor is in place. Anakin would peg him as younger than Ahsoka was, before. Not by much, but... fourteen, maybe fifteen. The face is painfully familiar, and stays utterly neutral as he answers the question Anakin didn’t ask. “We found your Ident card after you passed out.”

Cool, so, Anakin definitely can’t change his name.

“Are they yours?” the teenager that will one day create an army says.

“They have no one else,” Anakin tells him. It’s true enough. Still, he gets the feeling that’s not what Fett’s asking. “They’re family.”

Jango squints at him. “I was told Jedi can’t have families.”

Anakin’s mind flashes to Padme and the fantasies he’d long harbored of children born free, and tears himself away. He can’t think about that right now. He can’t think of who he’s--

“Jetii!”

Anakin’s head snaps up, and he realizes he’s shaking. Fett’s not neutral anymore, just... concerned.

“I’m fine,” Anakin spits out, and leans on the crib behind him. He can hear the little ones whimpering. He has to pull his thoughts in and bundle them up into something that won’t hurt the incredibly Force-Sensitive babies behind him. “I’m--I’m all they have. They’re all I have. Are the exact words important?”

Fett doesn’t grimace, exactly, but his expression isn’t pleasant. “I guess.”

Anakin waits to see if there’s anything else coming, but no. Just an awkward silence. He holds onto his frustration, but it still gets the better of him.

“What are my chances of getting my arm back?” he asks.

“Hm?”

Anakin waves what’s left of that arm, the tied-off sleeve flapping about. “My arm. If you don’t want to give me mine back, can I at least have some kind of placeholder? I can’t pick up the babies without worrying that I’m going to drop them.”

“I can ask the medics,” Fett says. He stares at Anakin for a little more, and then asks, “Aren’t you going to ask about our plans for you, or...?”

“If you wanted to kill me, you already would have,” Anakin mutters. “Right now, these two are my only priority. I’m more likely to keep them safe and alive here than I am if I try to break out. I can be patient. I would also assume they wouldn’t have been left in a room with me, alone, if any of us were in danger of medical complications.”

Fett flushes and turns. “I’ll tell buir you’re up and active. There’s a nurse droid in the hall, I can have it handle feedings until you get an arm.”

“Thanks,” Anakin drawls, aware that he’s a little bitchy right now, but not in any mood to temper himself.

He settles himself on the floor next to Ahsoka’s crib, lets her play with his hair while the nurse droid feeds Obi-Wan, and then feeds Ahsoka herself. Anakin thinks he could probably pull the droid apart for an escape attempt if it came down to it. He hopes it won’t be necessary. He’s barely existing in the moment as it is. The droid asks Anakin if he needs anything, and he... shrugs.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Perhaps some non-perishables,” the nurse droids suggests. “Ration bars, for if you are hungry before one of the Mando’ade returns.”

Anakin shrugs again. “Alright.”

He ignores the droid after that. He’s only mostly cut off from the Force by the single cuff. He can’t blanket his Master and Padawan in his own Force presence, try to make them feel safe and calm with the fact that he’s here and ready to protect them, but he can monitor them. He can meditate, even if it’s not the way he prefers to do it. He doesn’t have the strength for moving meditation right now, but a regular meditation... he can do that.

He needs to do that, because no other stress relief option is available to him right now.

Anakin lets himself feel the babies fall asleep, the two of them radiating contentment and warmth. He lets himself trust that, for the moment, he doesn’t need to worry. He lets himself sink into an absence of thought, and then the Force guides him deeper still.

“Anakin!”

His eyes fly open.

This is not the real world.

This is not the room-cell in the Haat Mando’ade base he’s managed to stumble across.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says again, a smile hidden in a beard and worn laugh lines about his eyes. The right age, the right size, reaching for him and--

There’s only a moment’s hesitation for Anakin to process, and then he sprints forward and yanks his Master into a hug.

“You’re good,” Obi-Wan mutters to him, rubbing his back as they both sink to their knees. There’s a click of bootheels against the empty white not-space that they’re in, and Ahsoka buries herself into their sides. Anakin pulls her in a little closer too.

They stay that for longer than is maybe necessary, but Anakin’s stress levels are sky high right now, and he needs this. A hug, even one that’s technically only taking place in his head, is important.

“Sorry, Skyguy,” Ahsoka whispers. “Thinking in the real world is... really hard right now.”

He pulls away from the desperate hug he’d started them off with, rearranges things so he’s leaning against Obi-Wan, lets Ahsoka lie down with her head in his lap, on her back and legs stretched out across the white nothingness.

“I don’t know what happened,” Anakin says. “I mean, Sith stuff, probably, but... we’re in the wrong year.”

“I’d wondered,” Obi-Wan admits. “I thought it odd that I couldn’t feel the clones, but I only have so much energy to think right now...”

“Please tell me there’s a way to fix it,” Anakin begs. “I can’t be the adult, Obi-Wan. I haven’t even been born yet, that’s how far back we are. I don’t know what to do, and I can’t just bang around making bad decisions without you there to pull me back and--”

“Breathe,” Obi-Wan tells him.

“We’re in the Force,” Anakin says, just a little hysterically. “We don’t need to breathe!”

“Actually, I think we’re in your head,” Ahsoka says. She’s pointing and stretching her feet like a dancer, but looks up to grin at Anakin like the little shit she is. “You’re the only one whose brain is big enough right now.”

“Hey,” Anakin complains, putting his entire palm over her face as revenge. She giggles and swats him away. “That any way to talk to the guy who taught you how to kill five guys in one move?”

She sticks her tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes and runs a hand over her montrals, smiling when she wriggles and makes a little chirruping noise.

“She’s not wrong,” Obi-Wan says. “Though the phrasing was unfortunate, it does stand to reason that as the only person without the brain of a toddler, you’re hosting. Our minds can’t handle the strain of our own selves, let alone sharing space.”

“Infant.”

“Hm?”

“Ahsoka’s a toddler. You’re an infant. Maybe six months.” Anakin grins, just this side of brittle. He doesn’t want to joke about a problem he can’t fix, but what else is there? “You’re the literal baby of the lineage now.”

Obi-Wan sighs over the riot of Ahsoka’s laugh. “Of course I am.”

“It’s okay, Master,” Ahsoka assures him. “Skyguy’s gonna take care of us until we can fight again.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, grimacing slightly. “I am sorry for you being put in such a position, Anakin. It’s certainly not an easy one.”

Anakin wishes he could say that his immediate reaction isn’t a sense of hurt, a you don’t trust me, a you don’t think I can do this, a you’re disappointed someone else wasn’t here to handle things instead.

He wishes he could make that claim and have anyone believe him, but they are in a shared meditation, and in this moment there are very, very few secrets. He does not make the effort to hide his reaction in time, and Obi-Wan catches it.

Anakin turns away as Obi-Wan’s face fills with surprise and horror. “Anakin--”

“Can we just pretend you didn’t feel that?” Anakin asks, and flinches when Ahsoka pops up from where she lies and scurries around to hug him like a vise. “Can we just pretend I’m not--”

“Dear one, there are very few people I would trust as much as you in this,” Obi-Wan says. “Those who match up are largely the people who helped me raise me when I was actually this age.”

“Being completely reliant on your padawan isn’t--”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, cutting him off there. “I can trust you to care for me in ways that don’t just come down to making me a useful general again. I already trust you to risk your life and safety and freedom to see us survive, given what little I remember of that storm.”

“You handed yourself over to Mandalorians you knew nothing about so we’d be safe,” Ahsoka mutters into the fabric somewhere over his ribs. “That could have gone really badly, and you still did it because you were worried about us.”

“We trust you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling Anakin to his chest and resting his chin on Anakin’s head. “We know you.”

“You don’t even know what happened in the storm,” Anakin mutters. “You were asleep.”

“I caught enough listening to the doctors,” Obi-Wan says. He runs a hand over Anakin’s head and through his hair. “You did well, Anakin.”

Anakin wonders why they don’t do this in real life. Obi-Wan doesn’t usually hug him, let alone cuddle. Maybe it’s because they’re all stuck in too much truth in this shared meditation, and the other two are currently stuck in child bodies that crave physical affection in ways they don’t realize they’re expressing in here as well. Maybe it’s the stress.

“What even can you hear?” Anakin mutters, still in Obi-Wan’s arms. Ahsoka giggles at him, nuzzling into his side in a way he doesn’t think she’d ever let herself, normally.

“We can’t really think in the real world right now,” she muses. “Only when we’re sleeping, and probably when we’re meditating once we’re bigger. If I try to think too hard, my head hurts worse than that time Ventress got me in the head with the back of her saber.”

“Everything takes up more space than it should,” Obi-Wan adds. “It’s... all of my senses are bigger and brighter and take up more of my attention, but they aren’t very clear, really. They’re just more. I can’t focus on anything, either, except... well, the feedings.”

Ahsoka makes an annoyed noise. “The whole diapers and bottles thing is really embarrassing, by the way. Only here, though, I barely notice when I’m awake because...”

“Because you’re a toddler,” Anakin says drily.

She huffs. “How would you feel if you were stuck like that?”

That’s fair.

“I don’t remember much,” Obi-Wan says carefully. “But part of me recognizes familiar things, even if I can’t quite make the connection.”

“Was that Fett, earlier?” Ahsoka asks. “Because I thought I saw a friend, and I pretty much forgot the face as soon as they left, but--”

“It’s Fett,” Anakin confirms. “But I guess that’s good to know? You saw his face and your baby brain just assumed it was one of the clones?”

“Pretty much.”

“And we know we trust you,” Obi-Wan adds, and tightens the hug when Anakin stiffens. “Anakin, I can barely understand the world around me at all right now. It’s like being on the painkillers that don’t knock you out but leave you saying only the most ridiculous things that come to mind. You have a general understanding of what’s going on, but all your emotions are too much and the room spins, you can’t stay on one track mentally, you can’t remember what you’ve done and what you haven’t--”

“You can’t control your bladder,” Ahsoka mutters, just a touch spitefully.

Obi-Wan grimaces and nods. “An unfortunate commonality in the experiences, yes. What I was aiming to address, however, is the fact that I only remember a very few things with any reliability. Most of my adult mind, so to speak, appears to be stored in a stasis form in the Force itself, because the infant mind can only handle the barest edges of who I am. But what that infant mind knows, and what I remember thinking once I have some sense of my full self in sleep, is that there is no one I react to as positively as you, Anakin.”

“What he’s trying to say,” Ahsoka interrupts, “but can’t because he’s trying to be a serene Jedi Councilor who definitely doesn’t break the code, nosiree, is that we don’t remember much about ourselves when we’re awake, but we remember you, and we know that we love you, Skyguy.”

Anakin stares at her, and then twists around to look at Obi-Wan instead.

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka croons. “Stop being emotionally constipated. We’re literal babies right not, which sucks, but we’re like 90% emotion. Tell Skyguy.”

“Yes, er, Ahsoka was not incorrect,” Obi-Wan says, stroking his beard and refusing to meet Anakin’s eyes. “I, that is to say, we...”

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka says, a touch sharper than she might have dared if not for the reversal of their ages.

“I do love you, Anakin, and it’s one of the only things my child mind knows consistently.”

The Force does, in fact, sing with the truth of this. It circles them like a delighted tornado of emotional reality, pulsing like a coat of positivity.

Anakin buries his face in Obi-Wan’s shoulder and hugs him as tightly as possible.

“Oh! Oh dear, I--Anakin, really, this isn’t news.”

“Master Kenobi, you’re allergic to actually talking about your emotions. Let him hug you.”

“Anakin, I’ve raised you since you were nine, it would be nearly impossible for me to not care, why are you--”

“Master Kenobi, stop questioning him!” Ahsoka whines. “It’s affirmation time.”

“Ahsoka, have you been spending time with the mind healers again?”

“I was a teenager in a warzone and also Barriss bullied me into it for my own good.” Ahsoka shrugs. “I learned some stuff. You two should have gone, too. You were more karked up than I was.”

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan scolds.

“What are you going to do, spit up on me? You can’t exactly make me run laps, Master.”

“Both of you shut up,” Anakin mumbles, and tries to push as much of his own affection as possible into a little ball of feelings that he can just drop on the two of them while he’s still in his own brain and not somewhere he can’t touch the Force. “Just--just shut.”

Apparently, Anakin’s feelings are a lot, because Ahsoka bursts into tears and Obi-Wan zones out so hard Anakin starts worrying about him.

They’re in a mindscape, a thing that he didn’t really think happened, but does. He shouldn’t have to worry about his--

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling him in tighter. “Why did you...”

“Skyguy, I don’t think you planned on putting in the part where you worry about nobody loving you back as much as you loved them,” Ahsoka says, raw and uneven. “Because, uh, we got that? Skyguy, that’s really wrong!”

Oh shit.

“No, you were... you were not supposed to get that,” he says, just a little strangled. “I am so sorry, that wasn’t--”

“Be our dad.”

Anakin stares down at his Padawan. She stares determinedly back.

“What?”

“Fett asked if we were yours, and you edged around the question by saying we were family, but he was asking if you were our dad. I’m guessing you didn’t want to claim that when we couldn’t agree to it, so I’m telling you now: do it. Adopt us the Mandalorian way or whatever. You were already my older brother, basically, this is just a step sideways in how we talk about it.”

He stares at her a bit more. He doesn’t have words, and his emotions are such a cyclone of conflicting thoughts that he’s surprised the Force hasn’t tossed him out.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be born, but if I am, then I need a name so I don’t have the same one as future me,” she says. She takes his hands, holds them tight and leans in close. “You’re going to be raising us anyway. The Force already made it clear there’s no fixing this, we tried asking while you were unconscious, it wants us to grow up the long way. You’re going to be our dad. Just make it official. Make me a Skywalker.”

Anakin sits up straight, looks her up and down, the determination and affection and--

He turns to look at Obi-Wan. “Master?”

“...yes, Anakin?”

“I know she said ‘we’ and ‘us,’ but I’m not letting anyone speak for anyone else. Not for something this important.”

Obi-Wan blinks at him, and then rearranges himself to something a tad more formal. He takes one of Anakin’s hands in his own. “Anakin, we’ve been family since you were nine. This is just redefining the terms. We can adjust as we go forward, but for all intents and purposes, the majority of the time, I will be that youngling in the cot. For all intents and purposes, I will be your child, and... and I would be honored for you to make that official.”

“Even if it breaks the Code?” Anakin presses.

“All is as the Force wills it,” Obi-Wan says, almost but not quite overriding Ahsoka’s, “This doesn’t break the Code.”

They both turn to look at her. She shrugs. “What? You guys are always arguing about it and Skyguy was married. I went and did some digging about what is and isn’t allowed. This adoption would be skirting the edges of some rules, since we should be taken to the creche to be raised in a communal manner, and official adoptions are discouraged for reasons relating to later padawan stuff, but since the Force is also insisting we stay with the Mandalorians, I think it qualifies as an exception and will be treated as such, retroactively, by the Council. You also won’t be able to take either of us as Padawan once that time comes. It does not, however, violate the Code in and of itself.”

“What the hell, Snips?”

“I’m impressed, young one,” Obi-Wan says, with a smile Anakin can feel. “I could have expected to see you in court in a few years, with an argument like that.”

“You knew I was married?” Anakin squeaks.

“Rex isn’t a very good liar,” she says. She then droops. “Or, he wasn’t. Wouldn’t be. He tried, at least, but I caught on. That was against the Code, though. Just so you know.”

Anakin runs a hand over his face, tries very hard not to think about what and whom he’s left behind. He can save that breakdown for later.

He chances a look at Obi-Wan.

He gets a raised eyebrow in response.

“You’re not mad?”

“I knew you and the Senator were close, considering all the kissing you did in the Arena,” Obi-Wan says drily. Anakin isn’t stupid enough to ask how he knows it’s Padme. “I didn’t know you were married, and am a little disappointed you didn’t at least tell me, or consult me before you did it, considering you were still a padawan... but no, I’m not mad. Even if I were--and I am not--we’ve time-traveled, so I’m fairly certain that qualifies as annulment. It’s a non-issue.”

Anakin pushes down the tidal wave of grief for people who haven’t been born yet, and just breathes instead. This is important. This is too important for him to just kriff it up.

“Names,” he says.

“I still want part of it to be ‘Soka,’ if you don’t think it’s too risky.”

Obi-Wan shrugs with a smile. “Almost every time I’ve posed as a Mandalorian, since my first mission with Satine, I’ve gone by Ben. It would be fitting that, now that we’re here and apparently staying, I take the name for real.”

Anakin nods. He closes his eyes, and breathes deep, and thinks that they may be among Mandalorians on a world of snow, but he has the desert in his bones and will never forget it.

“Ahsoka Tano, sister of my heart,” he says, hoping he’s getting the words right, and takes her hands in his. It’ll have more meaning here and now, where they’re both of full mind. He holds her gaze. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my daughter, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Sokanth Skywalker, she who slips through every hunter’s trap, and you are my child.”

She smiles brightly at him, and looks like she might cry. He presses his lips to her forehead. He turns to his Master. He hesitates, because it’s one thing to redefine his little sister, but...

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, father of my heart,” he says, his voice catching where it shouldn’t. He can do this. It’s weird but he can do this. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my son, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Ylliben Skywalker, he who hunts the monsters of the darkest nights, and you are my child.”

The man before him almost laughs, well aware of how absurd it is for Anakin to be the one adopting him, but keeps it limited to just a twinkle in his eye and a quirk to his lips. Anakin presses his lips to his teacher’s forehead.

He pulls both of them in close. Padawan and Master. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan.

Daughter and son. Soka and Ben. His.

“I’m still gonna call you Skyguy,” Soka says wetly. “But Mas--um, Ben. Ben can call you buir, all the Mandos are gonna love it.”

“Fine by me,” Anakin says. “I’m going to be telling you Tatooine bedtime stories, by the way. You’ll remember creche stories as you grow, but these’ll be new.”

“I do believe that would be appropriate,” Ben says, laughing just a touch. “I also think we should perhaps disband this, unless you have something else to address. You’re going to be dealing with two very cranky younglings soon.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna have headaches after this,” Soka laughs, rubbing her face against his shoulder. “But it’s okay, we got what we ne--”

“No, shut up, what you do mean, headaches? You said that was only when you were awake!”

“I mean, we’d be sobbing after like three minutes if we were awake,” Soka says cheerfully. “This way, it’s been like... an hour or whatever between all the talking and the hugging and the crying and the feelings, and we’re just gonna be grumpy.”

“Oh my--wake up!” Anakin growls at both of them. “I’m responsible for you now, wake up.”

He ignores Soka’s laughter and drags himself back to wakefulness. Behind him, he feels slight confusion and pain mixed with love and delight. Ben starts fussing.

Anakin drags a hand over his face and groans. He gets to his feet, nods to the nurse droid, and steps over to the cribs.

“Can we put them in the same one until I get my arm back?” he asks. The droid obliges, moving Ben to Soka’s crib. She immediately crawls over to him and envelops him in a hug. She pouts up at Anakin, eyes going watery, and he drops into the chair next to her and offers his hand through the bars. She grabs it.

“You’re going to be trouble for a long, long time, huh?”

She sticks her tongue out at him, and he smiles at her. Yes, trouble in spades, his Snips.

He starts telling her one of the fables of Tatooine, the really sanitized ones meant for children her age, before they got to the slave stories and haunt-tales. She falls asleep for real, no Force Shenanigans, shortly after. Ben is dead to the world by that point, making small snuffling noises whenever the blanket tickles his nose.

Anakin knows he’s got the galaxy’s dopiest smile on his face. It’s fine.

It’s a few more hours before someone stops by. He’s used the fresher by that point, helped the nurse droid coax Ben through a feeding, and helped Soka play with the little stuffed eopie they’ve given her.

“They got names, aruetti?”

He looks up and over. “Yes.”

The middle-aged man ambles over, arms crossed. “Jango said you claimed to be all they had left.”

He is. “They’re family. I’ve had a few hours to think it over, now that I’m not getting shot at or dying in the snow. To any system that allows it, I’ll be their father.”

“No chance of returning them to their people?”

Anakin shakes his head. “Soka has none who would recognize her, and I already--I already babysat her regularly, and she thought of me as a brother. It’s an easy next step.”

“And the human?”

“I... the master-padawan relationship is often one that is compared to that of parent and child,” Anakin says carefully. “My own master was like a father to me, and Ben is... Ben is all I have left of him.”

There. Not quite the truth, but... technically not lying.

Ben makes a small noise in his sleep, fussing, and Anakin reaches through the bars to brush his thumb across the infant’s chubby cheek. He smiles helplessly as Ben whines and curls in tighter on himself, pressing a tiny fist to his mouth.

“You’re good,” Anakin whispers. “We’re fine, Ylliben.”

“I don’t know what you’re hiding,” the Mando says. “But I do believe you’re doing what you can for those kids.”

“That’s all that matters,” Anakin agrees, finally looking away from his... his son.

Mine, the greedy krayt in his chest whispers.

“When are you planning on going back to Coruscanta?”

“I’m not,” Anakin says, standing and looking the man head-on. Anakin’s taller than him. That’s usually useful. “I don’t know why, but the Force wants me to stay here, or at least with the Mandalorians.”

“You want me to believe that you support my cause?”

“I don’t know your cause,” Anakin admits. “But I don’t like Death Watch, and I know you don’t either. Nobody on Coruscant is going to know to miss me, and the Force is warning me away from trying to go back. Whatever it is that needs doing, I’m supposed to be doing it here.”

The man steps forward. “Anyone tell you who I am?”

“No.”

“I’m Jaster Mereel.”

Good for you, Anakin thinks, and doesn’t say. “I’m pretty sure you already know my name.”

“I do,” Mereel says. “Wanna tell me how a Knight with a seemingly valid ident card claims nobody will know to miss him?”

“No.”

Mereel doesn’t even blink. “Try that again.”

“It means exactly what I said,” Anakin says. “The ident card is real. My training and rank are earned and deserved and bestowed by protocol. All of it was done at the Temple in Coruscant, but if you phone up the Temple with my name and face, nobody will know who I am.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why,” Mereel grouses. “What’s stopping me from calling them up anyway and asking them to come fetch your hypothermic ass?”

“...the fact that I already offered to help you?” Anakin manages. “I... I did say that part, right? That I’d help?”

“What’s stopping you from wanting to go back? And don’t give me any of that ‘will of the force’ banthashit.”

“I broke the Code,” Anakain says. The words sit heavy in his mouth, but one of his violations is lesser than the other, and-- “I married, and we’re not supposed to do that. She’s... not around anymore, but it still stands that I did it.”

The Tuskens weigh on his mind, suddenly and intensely. He hasn’t thought about them in ages, has always pushed those memories down, down, down, but--

“And they won’t take you back?”

“They might,” Anakin admits. They probably would, with his full title and everything, especially if he told them about the future. “But they wouldn’t let me keep the kids.”

Understanding flickers. “Not allowed kids?”

“It’s not... technically against the code,” he hedges. “But they’d find out about my marriage while investigating my past--” maybe, he’s not sure what kind of investigation they’d justify for a complete stranger of a knight, especially to confirm the future, but if they had a psychometric so much as touch his saber or arm, once he gets those back, there’d be a risk, “--and after already breaking the code by marrying, they’d be far less willing to bend the rules about the babies.”

He doesn’t realize how likely the risk is until after he says it, because he’s just been focusing on staying alive and following the Force, but.. they’d want the kids in the creche. He’s broken the code enough that any investigation they set to prove he’s legitimately a Jedi Knight that isn’t recorded and isn’t in the system is going to uncover something through the Force. They might not let him keep his family.

“What are their names?”

“I already--”

“Jango kept his last name,” Mereel cuts him off. “Did yours?”

Anakin looks the man in the eye, and then attempts to cross his arms in response, to mirror the pose and hold his ground. Unfortunately, he’s forgotten that he’s only got the one arm, which is really kriffing irritating.

“I gave them my name,” he says. “They’ll know where they came from, but they are mine.”

Yeah, no shit they’ll know where they came from.

Mereel’s face twitches, but the man is unreadable in the Force. Still, there’s something in the air... “So, those names?”

“Sokanth and Ylliben Skywalker,” Anakin tells him. He spells it out when the droid asks. He assumes it’s just for the medical data their droids are collecting.

“How well can you fight without your laser sword?”

“You mean unarmed?” Anakin asks, and then smiles brightly and tauntingly and waves his empty sleeve around. Mereel does not appreciate the humor. “Pretty well, but I do better when I have the Force, and am not still recovering from hypothermia. And I’m a fair shot with a blaster, but no specialist.”

Mereel eyes him for a moment, and then nods. “One of my snipers is Force-Sensitive. Never was enough to get more than some basic training in mental shields and the control to not hurt herself, but when we mentioned bringing in a Jetii, someone asked her what she thought. Came by the room while you were unconscious and said she thought you felt sad, angry, and desperate... but that she had a good feeling about where you’d be going.”

“Sad, angry, and desperate?” Anakin repeats, a little offended.

“You act like a veteran, kid,” Mereel says. He shrugs. “Damn near everyone that goes through some kind of war has all that going on. S’normal. You got Kamira’s approval, though, and that means a damn sight more. Keep your secrets for now. We’ll get there eventually.”

No we won’t, Anakin thinks. Out loud, he asks, “So, how much of what kind of work would I have to do to borrow a ship to Tatooine and earn enough to free a slave girl?”

[iwalc]

Surprise- Brian May x Reader

It was late. You sat on the sofa reading a book in front of the fireplace when you zoned out. You started to look around you and saw how beautiful your life had become. You were married to the one and only person you ever loved and together you had built this beautiful, incredible life. 2 years ago, 3 years into your marriage with Brian, you decided to have a child, a token of your love for each other. It was a rough start. There were numerous times where it didn't work at all, other times when you peed on the stick, soon after seeing a positive test, the excitement was immense and when you told Brian he got so excited, all of this to then be broken by the news of miscarriage. It broke the both of you but somehow you still managed to carry on. And for the reward of not giving in you could finally tell Brian once again that you were pregnant, and that time, all went well. In August 1980 you could finally give birth to a bouncing baby girl. It was a strange feeling, suddenly the gravity of your universe shifted and everything revolved around this tiny human, the beautiful Amanda that you and your husband, the love of your life had created and would cherish forever.

You had Brian, your beautiful girl Amanda, you had a beautiful and warm atmosphere you could call home, and there was nothing more that you wanted in life. Until a few months ago.

Your husband had started to secretly give you hints until he finally sat down with you and spat it out.

"Love?" he called silently since Amanda was sleeping, from the living room as you were in the bathroom catching up some laundry. "Yes, gorgeous" you answered just as you accomplished the task at hand. "Could you come here for a minute, there is something I'd like to talk to you about", "Ofc, I'll just wash my hands first". You thought about it as you washed your hands in the warm water. It must be something that's been on his mind for a while since whenever it's something ordinary he just spits it out, out of nowhere. You were curious.

When you walked towards the living room you saw him sitting on the sofa, his elbows resting on his knees, face in his hands. This worried you quite a bit. "Hey, what's up?" you asked as you sat down next to him, your hand automatically landing on his thigh. "I uh, I... There is something that's been on my mind" he started, looking down at his feet signalling his nervousness. "Well, I figured, I've noticed there's been something on your mind lately, but I didn't want to push you into talking with me if you didn't feel ready to." you gently said as you squeezed his tight gently. "I haven't found the right time to tell you and talk to you about it" he continued. "I want to know what's on your mind, love" you answered, really wanting to know. He turned his head to look at you for a moment, his curls falling off his shoulder, a smile tugging at his lips. "Do you want me to just spit it out or with some background information?" he asked chuckling a bit, "Do you think background information will be necessary?" you asked him smiling while adoring his beautiful features. His hazel, soft eyes, his prominent cheekbones, his jawline, his beautiful dark curls framing his gorgeous face. "No, not really. I uhm", "Brian, love, I know you are nervous but it's just me, spit it out", "I want another baby Y/N" he blurted out, waiting worriedly for your reaction, a small smile daring to tug at his lips. You were quite shocked, to be honest, it wasn't what you thought your husband had been thinking so much about. "You know Amanda is growing quickly, she's almost 2 years old now and I uhm, it would be nice to give her some company and" he didn't get to finish his explanation because of you interrupting him with a kiss. Taking him by surprise.

It was a brilliant idea. It made your stomach flutter with butterflies. You pulled back from the passionate kiss, seeing his chocked state made you laugh. He smiled at you, adoration poured into the gaze that reached your face. "I'd love to expand our family and have another child with you!" you squeaked, flying into his arms, which in turn led to chuckles escaping Brian's throat. The sound filled your heart and once again you thought about how perfect your life had become. You were so in love with everything, but most importantly Amanda and Brian.

The way he got so excited. The way his hazel eyes got deeper with adoration and excitement. The way his smile reached his eyes. The way he hugged you, telling you how happy you made him, how in love he was with you and to share his life with you. The way he existed. Your heart ached with love for this man.

And that day, it was set, you were going to try for a new baby. It wasn't always easy, already having a child to take care of, as well as Brians sometimes strange working schedule. However, to you, it was quite obvious it had worked. You were experiencing some symptoms, which reminded you of your first pregnancy: Absent period, hormonal imbalance, tender breasts, bloated, nausea in the mornings. Even Brian noticed some changes:

You had just gotten out of a late-night shower and were just going to change into your pyjama shirt when Brian suddenly commented something you found very strange. "Love, have you been missing your period?" he blurted out. This was something you never ever thought he'd ever think of, never the less keep track off. You turned around to stare at him, "Yes, in fact, I have, why?". "No, I was just thinking, I reckon you told me last month that we had to buy more pads and tampons til' this time, but neither of us has bought any and you have been feeling quite fine compared to how you use to feel when the time of the month comes around." he said like it was nothing, you just starred at him incredulously, at awe of the attention he had paid. "What? Did I say something wrong?" he asked as his face fell. "No, no you didn't. I'm just amazed by the attention you pay to those kinds of things. I wasn't prepared for the question nor the explanation for it." you said and chuckled as you dragged the shirt over your head. Walking to the bed you smiled to yourself, wow, what a man. As you buried yourself under the quilt, snuggling up to Brian who gladly put his arm around you he blurted out another incredulous comment. "I also can't help to notice that your breast has gotten bigger". You laughed at the comment. "I don't know if they're bigger, but tender they definitely are. How do you notice all of these things?" you couldn't help but ask as you looked up at him. "Well, I don't know, I guess I just do. And I've known you for about ten years now, and we've been together for almost eight of those. I would like to say I know you very well" he stated. "Well yes, you definitely do, and I love you for it!" you said as you reached up for a kiss, he chuckled a bit and smiled into the kiss.

Brian didn't ask anything after that, you know he had his suspicions but neither of you wanted to get the hopes up too early, regarding all of the tries before Amanda. However, after emptying your stomach one morning, you decided that it would be time to take a test. Brian couldn't be with you this time since he had work at the studio that had to be done, and since Amanda was spending time with her grandparents, Ruth and Harold, you figured it would be a perfect time. Since Brian wasn't home, nor did he know you were going to take a test, you decided to keep it a secret until you knew the result and decided to take it from there.

You had pregnancy tests laying around in a draw in the bathroom. You took one, peed on it, and while waiting for a result you went to eat some breakfast. Coming back to the bathroom to look at the test, you suddenly became very nervous, you really wanted it to be positive! You would hate to break the news to Brian, telling him that it was negative and that the symptoms had been a result of something else. You took a deep breath and grabbed the test. You slowly turned it around, feeling the nervousness clearly increase. All the fear suddenly washed away, it was positive.

Suddenly you felt all the emotions in the world all at once. Tears started to drip from your eyes as you smiled like crazy. The excitement was a fact which resulted in several exited screams and runs throughout the house. If anyone could see you they'd probably think you'd be crazy. But you didn't care because you were the happiest. You had more than you would ever wish for.

Before taking the test you were thinking about waiting to tell Brian until you've seen a doctor etc but now, there was no way you could make that happen. You tried not to call Brian at the studio to tell him. Instead, you rushed to the phone and decided to call Ruth and Harold.

It felt like it took forever before anyone picked up the phone. "The May household" you heard Harold answer. "Hi Harold, it's Y/N, how are you?", "Hello Dear, I'm fine thank you, how are you?" he asked, he sounded happy, it warmed your heart. You contemplated whether telling them or waiting. Apparently, you had been quiet for too long, "Is everything alright?" he seriously asked. You hesitated a bit, "Yeah, I uhm I think so", "You doesn't sound too sure about that dear, would you like to talk to Ruth?", "That would be nice, thank you, Harold". Harold was a great grandad and a wonderful father in law, however, you had always had a better connection towards Ruth.

You heard Harold calling for Ruth and some muffled noises. "Hello dear!" you heard Ruth's voice cheering through. "Hello Ruth, how are you? And Amanda?" you gently asked, not really levelling with her enthusiasm. "Oh I'm fine dear, thank you for asking. Amanda just ate some soup, so she's full and satisfied" she laughed. "That's great! I hope you're all having a good time and that she's behaving" you chuckled. "Oh dear, don't worry, she's the best!" you chuckled as an answer. "Now, Y/N, will you tell me what's wrong?", "I uhm, I was wondering if I could pick Amanda up a bit earlier than planned? Like today?", it was quiet for some time before she answered. "Oh, well yes of course you can! Is there something wrong?" she asked. "No, I don't think so at least" you chuckled, "I just want her home for tonight when Brians getting home.", "Y/N, I'm sorry but I can see right through you, there is something on your mind.", "Well yes, there are, I just don't know if I want to tell you before I tell Brian.", "Oh" and with this, you knew she understood. "Ok, I think you know by now anyway, I uhm, I'm..... pregnant, and I wanted to" you didn't get to finish your sentence because there was a scream on the other end and it made you laugh. "Oh my heavens, Congratulations!! I am so happy for you two!" she almost screamed. "Don't get too excited Ruth, it's still pretty early" you voiced your fears. "Oh dear, I understand your fear, I really do, but it will be alright in the end, I promise!", at this you got emotional, tears started to stream down your cheeks and you sniffled, "Oh love, It will be alright! We'll pack Amandas things and then we'll be right over, okay?", "Okay" you sniffled, "Thank you Ruth!", "No worries dear!", "Ruth before you begin packing things up, you don't have too, you can have her back tonight or tomorrow if you want.", "That sounds nice if it's alright with you two, but I guess you would appreciate some time alone to talk and everything, so we'll happily come and pick her up tomorrow again!", "That sounds great, I know she loves being with you two! I won't hold you up any longer, see you soon then", "Yes darling, see you soon!"

You took a deep breath. Wow. This was a rollercoaster.

You were so happy and so appreciative for Ruth and Harold. Brian and Harold haven't always been on great terms but the last year things have been amazing between them and both Harold and Ruth have always been amazing towards you. They are great, amazing! And there is no wonder why Brian is so great.

---

You were in the bedroom and looking for a specific body that Amanda had, knowing that Brian would know exactly when he saw it, when you heard knock on the front door. You quickly ran downstairs and opened to great your baby and parents in law.

"Hi," you both said at the same time as you opened the door. Ruth walked inside first and greeted you with a big smile, embracing you in a hug only a mother could. "You look great!" she happily said as her hands went to your cheeks, you chuckled a bit "Thanks, I don't feel great" you laughed, hoping not to get further questions. Harold stepped inside and handed you your baby girl, oh you had missed her. "Hi baby," you said in a squealing voice before showering her in kisses, making her laugh. Harold walked up to you, and to your surprise leaned in for a hug, he's not a hugging person normally, you gently hugged him and received a happy congratulations wish. "I'm happy for you both," he said, "Thank you so much, Harold," you said and gave him a joyous smile, just as you also felt tears streaming down. "Oh wow, I'm a mess" you laughed as you brushed the tears off. "No worries dear, I was the same when I was expecting Brian" she laughed and Harold agreed, not pleased with the recall of memories. You all broke down in laughs.

You welcomed them inside and as always they made themselves feel at home as you served some tea and biscuits. Ruth was playing with Amanda on the sofa. "Has she taken her nap today?" you asked as you saw how Amanda started to get cranky and sleepy. "No she hasn't, she was about to fall asleep in the car on our way here but we thought it was better to keep her awake so she could sleep here.", "Maybe we should go take a nap, baby girl," you said as you approached them on the sofa. Suddenly, Harold stood up, "I can take her to nap, if that's ok?" he asked, "Yes of course," you said as you walked and picked Amanda up and handed her to Harold. "I'll be upstairs with the bottle in a minute," you said as you walked to the kitchen to prepare the bottle.

---

Amanda was happily asleep upstairs and Ruth and Harold had just left. However, before they left they handed me a little box and you thought that now would be a good time opening it. Inside you could see a yellow shirt, in Amanda's size. When you unfolded the soft material you saw the cutest thing. The shirt had "Promoted Big Sister" embroidered on the front. You chuckled slightly as an idea about how to reveal the news to Brian popped up in your head.

This will be perfect.

---

Amanda was seated in her chair as you finished up the rest of the dinner. For the occasion, you had made Brians favourite dinner.

You had been so distracted by the food that you hadn't heard Brian coming home. You only noticed when Amanda squealed when she saw him entering the large kitchen. You turned around and was treated by a sight that could melt your heart a thousand times over. Brians had picked her up and were showing her with hugs and kisses, making the baby girl let out belly laughs. You felt how you were about to cry but quickly turned around again to brush them away.

Brian put Amanda back in her chair for a moment and approached you. Wrapping his arms around your waist, his lips brushed against your neck and kissed your temple. "Hi" you gently voiced. "Hello, love," he said and kept kissing your cheek. "It smells delicious," he said and placed one last kiss on your ear. "It's your favourite," you said and put down the spatula to turn around and greet him properly. "I noticed, what do I owe the pleasure?" he said as you wrapped your hands around his neck, his hands placed on your waist. "nothing special" you lied. "How was your day?" you asked as you leaned in for a hug, hugging his waist, his hands brushing your back. You could smell his cologne, feel his arms tightening around you. "It was okay, nothing special," he said, his voice low. He pulled away from the hug to look at you. One of his hands stroke some hair behind your ear to then cup your cheek. "How was your day? And why's Amanda home, shouldn't she be at my parents?", "They came to visit earlier and I wanted her home, but she's going back tomorrow," you said as you adored his face. He chuckled and leaned down to kiss you. The kiss was like nothing else, your whole body tingled. You felt the excitement again.

The dinner was nothing special. Brian kept complimenting the food, which warmed your heart. Throughout the whole dinner, you just kept adoring the little family you have and the excitement to reveal that one more was on the way kept getting stronger and you were growing impatient.

Amanda played with a rattle toy while you and Brian both cleaned up after the dinner, stealing hugs and kisses here and there.

When the kitchen was done cleaning you honestly felt exhausted, and Brian, being the wonderful husband he is, sensed that. He walked up to you and kissed your forehead as he hugged you. "You go sit down and relax and I'll take care of Manda" he said and kissed you again. "Thank you" you whispered.

Brian kissed you once more and walked excitedly towards Amanda, "Come here baby girl, it's time for jammies" he said as he picked her up and threw her up in the air, making her laugh once again. You felt at peace and happy as you saw them giggling, making their way down to the nursery.

It was getting quite late. You sat down on the sofa reading a book in front of the fireplace when you zoned out. You started to look around you and saw how beautiful your life had become. You were married to the one and only person you ever loved and together you had built this beautiful incredible life. And the excitement for the news Brian is left to find out is very much evident.

You couldn't focus on reading the book, you just sat there biting you lip slightly and listening to what was happening in the nursery. You heard Brian talk to Manda and her giggles. Until it all stopped.

Silent took over the house, the only thing you could hear was Mandas joller and the fire in the fireplace.

"Love?" Brian called for you. You didn't answer, you wanted to see his reaction without you interfering to early. "Y/N" he almost shouted. Silence took over again.

Apparently, he grabbed Amanda and the shirt he had discovered and worked to the living room. "What is this?" he said, trying to hide his excitement if it weren't true. "It's a new shirt I bought for Manda" you chuckled. He looked so confused. His eyes went from looking on Amanda, to the shirt, to you. "What?" he blurted out, confusion written all over him. You rose up from the sofa and approached him. He had put Amanda down on the floor as he inspected the shirt.

You walked towards him and when there was almost no space between you he looked up at you, studied your expression. You smiled and took the shirt out of his hands and folded it and put it on the table. You walked up to him again and smiled. He tilted his head a bit, once again showing his confusion. You took his hands and brought them up to kiss them and then placed them gently on your lower stomach to get the message through. He caught on immediately. His eyes widened and he let out a breath. "Ooh my lord" he breathed as he adjusted his hands slightly, his gaze fixated on your belly. You chuckled and once again felt tears forming in your eyes. "I'm pregnant, Brian" you said smiling as the tears ran down your cheeks. He looked up at you and a smile spread across his face, "Really?" he asked as he looked at you. "Yes, I took three tests and all of them was positive".

Brian moved his hands and embraced you in a loving, comforting hug. His head was placed in the curve of your neck, his hands wrapped around you, your hands on his back, feeling his warmth, feeling the soft curls against your cheek. What you discovered next melted your heart. You heard sniffles coming from Brian.

You broke the embrace and looked at him, your hands holding his cheeks, your thumbs brushing away the tears, as more tears streamed from your eyes. You both were crying out of happiness, and soon enough you were both laughing. Brian held your waist, "Oh boy I love you!" he said as he laughed and kissed you. "I love you more" you gently said, looking into his hazel eyes. "Thank you" he then said as a wave of more tears streamed down his rosy cheeks. He leaned his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes. "I.. I don't even know what to say. I love you so much and there is no other I'd want to share my life with. You make me happy, you're keeping me on track, you are my universe. I love you so much and I am so grateful for you! You have given me the best gift of live already once, and now again. I... I'm speechless. I love you so much! And I am so excited" he laughed. "I am so excited. Im so excited for all that the future has to bring us. To see Amanda grow up, to see this little bean grow" he placed his hands on your stomach, "I love you, so much!" he started to cry again. This hit you hard. How did you end up with this fantastic man? If only you could show him how much you meant to him so he could really understand.

"Baby, I love you! So much! And I am so happy. I have more than I could ever have asked for. I have a wonderful husband, who's also my best friend. You cheer me up when I'm down, you comfort me when I'm sad, you laugh with me when I'm happy. I am so glad and grateful that I get to share my life with you too. I love you so much it hurts!" you said and kissed his swollen, red lips to then hug him tight.

You were so excited for what the future would bring. You would never want to do this with anyone else. This was perfect.

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I hope you liked this one! I surely do! If you guys want maybe I could build this story further, maybe to follow them throughout the pregnancy or something? Let me know what you think!