#but then again i need to. do a proper high scar run for him.

[nbsidestep]

The "playing along with Ortea's HG theories" path is intriguing to me. Ruby is my Sidestep who I think could go the distance re: not revealing a thing (or more likely so I can have someone in my pocket for the late game reveals), so I'm considering having that also as one of his lil side paths? He's also gunning for the regenerator so ??? it's possible he might swing it

[nanamimizz]

tags: fem reader, age difference, established relationship, reader is shorter than kishibe, kissing, mentions of sex + sexual dynamics.

synopsis: kishibe just can’t keep his dirty mind from running, even when all you give him is a kiss on the cheek.

you give kishibe a kiss on the cheek. a harmless gesture one given readily and easily as he shrugs on his overcoat. you didn’t think much of it, thinking he would take your affection with his usual nonchalance and it would be the end of your shared morning.

but that’s never the case is it? things never go to plan.

you don’t notice the warmth in kishibe’s complexion. the way the haze that dampens the iron black is broken through like the sun through storm clouds. his hand is tugging you back - the apartment is warm and its your day off so you are still in your sleep shorts. kishibe keeps his eyes in the soft skin, thinking about marring the satin like skin with his teeth until he could taste the copper of your blood.

“c’mere, give your man a proper kiss.”

you only swallow in your fluster, eyes wide and lips open in a gasp at how unabashedly he handles you - tugging, pulling and holding you in front of him. his hands, warm and worn, you shiver when his scarred palm settles over your ass to tug you closer.

aftershave. mint toothpaste. cologne.

all incredibly deep and dark scents that make you shiver as well as the hauntingly hot hand that squeezes the fat of your ass - an indecent pair of ring and pinkie finger make their way under the high hem of your shorts and dig into the plush curve of your thigh blending into your ass.

“c’mon. don’t make me late.” he drawls into your ears as your head turns, embarrassed at how he handles you. you look back at him, blinking in that shy way he likes so much. timidly you nod and reach up - standing on the tips of your toes, your braless chest pressing against his suit clad chest until your lips meet his.

kishibe grunts - like the rest of you its soft and sweet, it makes him for the first time a long while want to skip out on work. he wants it deeper, harder; wants it dirty like when he kisses you at night with your tongue in his mouth and his hands holding your hips still to teach you patience. maybe he needs a reminder in such a lesson right now. you pull away and he can’t help but look at the clock in the kitchen that’s visible from the doorway, he stays any longer he’ll be late.

“i’m late cause of you. i should put you over my knee for teasing me like that.” he mutters into the air that is shared between the two of you and you only reach out to straight his tie, the folds in his jacket and the lapels of his coat. you pout, petulant and almost childish and it makes him want to kiss you again.

“i just being affectionate - you’re the one who demanded a real kiss.” he can’t refute you so he looks ahead, taking in the pictures that line the wall of your shared apartment. it strikes him that for the first time that it sucks to leave his apartment.

“brat. i’ll see you tonight. if i find you asleep you’re in big trouble.” that makes you smile, you can’t bite back the teasing comment that slips out your soft lips.

“what do you want me to wear?” he’s half a step out the door, hat on his head and giving his ever handsome face a shadow that makes him all the more sinister.

“just this, it’s cute. i like fucking you when you look like this.” he says without pausing, out the door and body facing you to close the door behind him. he stops, watches how your eyes are wide and your arms at tucked behind your back. you’re back to shifting in your place a doe out in the meadow. he feels like a wolf looking at you from his place in the doorway, like he is the outsider rather than the man that lives with you.

“look like what?” you ask, and you almost take a step back as you gaze into one dark eye, the other blocked by the door. you know kishibe is dangerous but this…this is when you see it yourself.

“like you’re mine.”

the door shuts, the clock ticks and the days begins. as you gaze out the windows and see the sun - you can’t help but think it’s a beautiful day and that it’s a shame that you already want it to end.

[loonarmuunar]

Epithet side effect headcanons that somehow turned into disability stuff while I was writing 👍👍 (these are kinda angsty I did not intend for that to happen but uh here we are—)

Molly — sometimes if she overuses her epithet, it can almost “nullify” her mind in a sense, giving her short-term memory problems on occasion. Usually it’s mild and doesn’t have much effect, just normal everyday forgetfulness, but when it’s bad, her head gets really fuzzy and she can’t focus or remember anything, she gets awful migraines and headaches, and she has a sort of feverish mind (y’know like when you’re so sick ur head feels Weird and u can’t Brain right). It’ll go away pretty quickly as long as she rests, but uh. We know she ain’t getting much of that.

It’s really Stressful and frustrating for her, because she KNOWS she forgot something but she can’t remember WHAT in the slightest.

This doesn’t happen very often thankfully since she doesn’t strain her epithet much, it’s like a once-every-few-months kinda thing.

Giovanni — got this one from a fic, Giovanni has a lot of sodium in his blood (cause soup, salty) which gives him wonky blood pressure, and it causes chronic nosebleeds. I like this one a lot cause I used to get nosebleeds on like a weekly, and in the summer, daily basis as a kid.

He got his first nosebleed in late spring when he was about 5 or so, just running around outside. He didn’t notice (and trust me when I say it can be HARD to notice) for a LOOONGGGG time. He ended up losing a LOT of blood. When you get a nosebleed it can sometimes run down into your throat and you’ll start spitting up blood it’s Uncomfortable and Gross. Anyways he went back home, went “hi moms :3 *soaked in blood, choking up blood*” andddd they Freaked Out.

He’s anemic because of it, and has to take iron meds. If he forgets to take them he gets really dizzy, and if it’s particularly bad, he can faint.

Sylvie — Narcolepsy. And insomnia. You can have both (and from what I know, they often go hand-in-hand), and he is Not having a good time.

He’s exhausted during the day, he tries to take stimulants to stay up but they don’t always work. When it’s night, he can’t go to sleep for the life of him, and if he does, he wakes up very often. It’s Not Fun. Sometimes he just gives up, and sleeps all day, then works all night.

Mera — We know the side effects, but I’m gonna mess with it a bit (aka I’m projecting). The muscles around her joints are really weak and frail, meaning it’s looser, so she has Hypermobility. Possibly also Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. She’s got a lot of joint pain on top of her regular pain.

She’s got it b a d, if lifts her arm up too high it’ll jerk and she’ll be like “oh yup. Dislocated again.”

She’s absolutely COVERED in bruises and scars, whenever she has to get stitches it constantly tears. She heals horribly. She’s starting to develop arthritis as well.

Medication usually doesn’t do anything for hypermobility related pain, if you’re lucky it’ll take the edge off. Indus helps her out with heatpads and stuff, but other than that, she just has to tough it out.

Indus — nothing. Have u seen this man?? He probably drinks disgusting high vitamin smoothies every morning, he eats full proper meals, dude is in PEAK CONDITION. If he did have any side effects it would be completely negated by his sheer healthiness. Diseases and conditions fear him.

He is however that One Person who is prepared for Everything and will help u if u need it. He carries medication and heatpads for Mera in case she forgets them, as well as bandaids and antiseptic wipes. He’s just a Good fella… <33

[tyxaar-fics]

I wrote a thing vaguely based on Scar’s tweets recounting Grian’s fishing addiction lol.

Fishing spot

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: GoodTimesWithScar & Cubfan135, Grian & GoodTimesWithScar, Cubfan135 & Grian Characters: GoodTimesWithScar, Grian, Cubfan135

If there was anyone who knew what being possessed looked like, it was Hermitcraft's resident Vex population.

"He's still at it, still fishing."

Scar adjusted his binoculars from his perch atop Magic Mountain, eying up where his friend stood unmoving by the inlet. He'd been at it for weeks now, the last break Grian took was to build a little pier space for more fishing, and it was around that point that his suspicions got strong enough to warrant a proper investigation. So, he called in Cub for company.

"That makes it... three days at this point, three days of fishing without breaks. No sleeping, either." Cub muttered as he made a note in a little chart they were putting together. Scar didn't think it was needed, but a record didn't hurt he supposed.

Grian pulled in something, a salmon? Certainly a fish of some kind, and dumped it in a barrel before throwing his cast again. Some of their friends occasionally joined him in his fishing, (Gem seemed strangely into it as well, something else to investigate.) but other than that, everyone was running around, making traps, mining, and were just generally too busy feeling the high of a new world to really notice just how strange and off-seeming Grian was being. Even when he wasn't fishing, he seemed to itch to go back to it, a weird pull towards the ocean. He always carried his rod and tackle box around now.

Scar put the binoculars down and rubbed his eyes, he probably shouldn't stare through them for so long, but this was fascinating.

"I told you Cub, he's possessed! Do you think whatever's got him is also behind Big Salmon?"

That got an eyeroll out of his friend. "Nah man that’s just a joke that got out of hand." 

"Well, that’s just what Big Salmon wants you to think."

Cub chuckled slightly at the comeback, leaning back on the grassy cliff.

"That's some definite possession right there though. He seems to have some partial control in more lucid moments, but the ocean’s got him good."

Scar blew a cherry petal from his nose and flopped down on the grass as well. 

"I told you the fishing wasn't normal. You know Cub, I'm surprised you're not trying to get your claws on whatever's got theirs in Grian given your track record.”

As they chatted absentmindedly on the mountaintop, it occurred to Scar that anyone else would probably be taking the situation more seriously. After all, a friend of theirs had been possessed by some strange entity binding him to the ocean and it clearly didn't care about Grian's wellbeing, given that he hadn't slept in three days and only ate raw fish. Every part of this should be concerning.

But, Scar and Cub were exactly the wrong people to get concerned. After all, it'd been years since their Pact with the Vex and those first couple times waking up 500 blocks from their beds and panicking, and the feeling of giving in to the Hunger when it got too much… It was old news, that. The Convex were intimately familiar with the feeling of drifting to the back of your head and letting something else take your body and mind for itself, as well as the strange empty euphoria that came with it. Eventually, they just... got used to being possessed every now and again. It was just how life came and went now. Perhaps it was why Scar so eagerly gave in to the Boogey curse and red haze when they came during the games.

"Fishing is fun, but I’m good. I also don’t think the Vex would like me to be taken by the ocean." Cub gave another eyeroll and went back to reading through their Grian fishing notes again.

There was an argument to be made that his fellow Vex had gotten addicted to it, the feeling of being possessed. He denied it, but Scar knew better than most. After all, he seemed positively eager to let himself be taken by the Skulk, the infection spreading and taking root far quicker than one would expect. And a similar situation also happened with the Pharaoh. Not even mentioning that when Demise came both times Cub went overboard, he gave in to the violence and the traps. Scar could practically feel the buzzing bloodied magic wrapping its claws around his friend's mind.

Regardless, this wasn’t them this time, it was Grian. He was new to the whole thing. Scar frowned slightly and sat back up to take another look at his angler friend.

”Do you think we should be more worried?”

”Hm?” Cub paused his note-taking to glance over.

“Do you think we should be worried that Grian’s possessed?” He waved towards the pier, where Grian was busy reeling in a particularly stubborn catch. ”I mean, it doesn’t seem to be taking good care of his body.”

Cub seemed to take some pause and consider that fact, staring at Grian for a few seconds. “Uuh maybe? I dunno how worried we should be, Scar. If he gets that enchantment he wants and doesn’t stop the fishing it might be good to intervene.”

He gave a nod in agreement. ”Sounds like a plan.”

Scar then flopped back down on the cherry-scattered grass, letting the sun dance through the petals falling on his face and taking in the soft evening light. Cub and him would continue their watch from from atop the cliff and keep an eye on any developments for a while. Although, now seemed like a perfect time for a nap amongst the blossoms.

After all, it’s rude to try and take away what something else had claimed for itself. The ocean could keep Grian for now.

[valeriianz]

Pirate AU, they've been rivals for a while, but when one of them almost gets hanged, the other rescues them and well, the ship is so small, guess we have to share my bunk 🤷‍♀️ one humble drabble suggestion from me.

“--Three shots to the wind, ya are. I can smell it on your breath.”

Hob is this close to just knocking Dream out with the butt of his gun, the man had been chatty and reluctant throughout this entire rescue.

“Yeah, well–” Hob peers left and right, crouched low in the orlop, finding ground after climbing the ladder and hauling them both onto the ship Hob helped crew. “Needed a bit of rum to convince myself to save your skinny ass.”

Dream scowls, but still manages to keep his voice low in the darkness. 

“I will not be spoken to this way.”

Hob turns around, shoving Dream against the wall and leaning in close, brushing his lips against the man’s ear. “You’re a pirate,” he snarls. “I’ll speak to you anyway I goddamn well please.”

He leans back, studying Dream’s agitated visage before taking him by the wrist and pulling him along once more. Hob can hear the crew above deck, shouting orders and readying the ship for sail. They had managed to sneak by as the ropes holding the ship to the dock were untethered and the sails lowered, obviously far enough away from the public execution where the crew were sure to not be caught… until all hell broke loose with Hob’s little escape mission.

With a great sigh of relief, Hob locates his cabin and shoves Dream inside first before closing and locking the door.

“I had it under control,” Dream growls, voice a tad louder in the privacy of Hob’s tiny setup. 

Hob huffs a breath of derision. “Oh, did you now?”

Dream had been scheduled to hang at the execution square in Thames. He seemed ready for it, his face impassive as his list of crimes went on and on, giving Hob plenty of time to stalk the crowd, finding an entrypoint and exit strategy. It was a spontaneous, rum infused decision to cause a distraction and shoot the rope that held Dream by the neck, snagging the other pirate and hauling ass back to Hob’s ship nearly on the other side of the island. 

He almost fought with Hob, face crumpling into something unsatisfactory, like biting into a lemon upon seeing his rescuer. Hob wasn’t sure why he was doing this either. Hob and Dream’s ship had met on the water once in the past year, cannon fire that turned into plunder missions where Hob had met Dream for the first time, high off the adrenaline of a proper attack, on the deck of his own ship.

They’re dueled with swords, well matched with a blade, amongst the chaos around them. Hob would be lying if he said he’d given it his all… mighty distracted by Dream’s pale skin and blue eyes, like the clear waters of a coral reef.

The fight had ended in a parley, their captains coming to an agreement, but promising one another that if they’d see each other again, there’d be no mercy.

And indeed, months later, Hob had run into Dream at a port, finding him in a dark corner of a pub, not engaging with his crewmates and holding onto a tankard without drinking it.

Hob had approached him, unsure what to make of the unexpected excitement in his belly, his chest, at seeing the pirate again. All he knew was the sea and booty and blood, so as he caught Dream’s attention, Hob drew his sword and challenged him to a fight.

It had been magnificent. Dueling Dream was like crossing blades with a nobleman. Dream was all fluidity and composure, while Hob was brute strength and honed skill. Years and years of learning how to fight by trial and error, no proper training, and with the scars to prove it.

Hob had lost that fight, falling to his knees in front of spectators jeering and throwing booze. He looked up at Dream, panting hard and pointing the tip of his blade at Hob’s jugular. 

“Any last words?” Dream had said, his voice low and cool, musical, like a siren out of water, come to test Hob’s resolve.

Hob cracked his most roguish smirk. 

“Give me a chance to fight again.” Hob licked his lips, utterly smitten. “Let me prove myself worthy of such artistry-- to lucubrate your mastery and that I may step with equal footing.”

Dream cocked one elegant brow, his blade lowering.

“Well spoken. Scallywag.”

Hob had seen Dream here and there, as the months went on, but found himself unable to fight him again. He’d gotten lucky, Hob knows, earning Dream’s mercy. But that didn’t make them friends. On the contrary, if Hob’s fellow crewmates caught him sneaking Dream aboard, they’d both be tossed into the sea.

“Why did you even bother?” Dream’s deep timbre interrupts Hob’s wandering thoughts. “Now that you’ve aligned yourself with me, we’re both doomed.”

“Shut it, I haven’t ‘aligned’ myself with nobody.”

Dream stands there, in the middle of the room, casting his eyes up and down Hob’s tattered clothes and sweat soaked skin. “Certainly seems like you have.” 

“Your crew left you for dead, mate,” Hob crosses the scant space between them, causing Dream to step back warily. “I don’t think I have an enemy anymore. You got nowhere else to go.”

Dream glared, but Hob could see the admission in his eyes, the truth. That he was truly alone now. What did it mean, to be captured– nay, saved by your adversary?

“And what do you plan to do with me now, Gadling?” Dream’s arms came out wide at his sides. “You’ve brought an enemy onto your ship. If the captain finds out–”

“He won't.”

Dream levels him with a look. 

“And even worse,” Dream continues like Hob said nothing. “Your crewmates will give me no quarter upon discovery. They would see me back at the gallows.”

“I should’ve left you to hang, ungrateful prick.”

“And now you’re hiding me,” Dream ignored the jab, his brows narrowed, suspicious. “Like some little boy who’s picked up a stray pet.”

“You said ‘pet.’” Hob grinned.

The room gave a sudden lurch and sway, indicating the ship was finally off. Dream tumbled back onto the small bed while Hob propped a hand on the wall, smiling down at the inelegant tangle of limbs Dream made on the mussed cot.

As the ship began to gentle in a rocking motion, Hob stepped up the Dream, who clambered up against the wall, long legs dangling over the edge, which Hob stood between now, leaning down and pressing his palms against either side of Dream’s head, caging him.

“I’ll admit I’m making this up as I go,” he said, privately pleased in the way Dream’s neck stretched back to look up at him, hatred burning in those crystal blue eyes. Hob wondered if he could make that fire burn for a whole different reason. Could soften those lines along Dream’s brow. Hob could almost imagine it, Dream with a darkened gaze, jaw slack, lips parted, body open and relaxed– for him. 

“But in the meantime, you’ll do as I say, and keep quiet,” Hob took Dream’s chin in his hand, fingers curling around his jaw, sharp as a blade, and definitely didn’t imagine the soft gasp that snuck through Dream’s lips. “Savvy?”

Dream swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with it. 

“Aye.”

[captain039]

PART 2 His conquest

Spawn!Astarion x spawn!reader

Warnings: Angst, vampire things, hurt/comfort, swearing, dick head Cazador hate his ass xD, abuse, soulmates

Previous part <-

Brothers and sisters (7)

Petras - male human

Dalyria - female half drow

Karliel - female dwarf

Astarion - male high elf

Naza - female Teifling

You

Sarric - male wood elf

You had no freedom besides inside the castle, even then you were forbidden in certain areas. If you went somewhere you weren’t allowed to you’d end up beaten for your actions. You rarely left the room allocated to you and your so called six brothers and sisters. You were starved so you found out quickly, you didn’t get a proper meal in a week. Cazador would pick to join him for dinner and give you a dead rat, desperate and hungry you always ate it, needing some form of blood. You hated yourself, hated this thing you’d become, you barely got time to yourself, the bath was attached to the room with only a robe curtain covering it. The other spawns had more freedom than you, obviously from being here for years, he sometimes sent them out to find him more poor souls to put in that horrid dungeon. You didn’t sleep anymore no matter how exhausted you were, you didn’t know what it meant to be a vampire or what was included, not like there was some guide to being one. Thankfully tonight everyone had left or was elsewhere, you smelt horrible, too afraid to bathe with the others so close. You cursed the drapes that didn’t hit the floor as you closed them. You tugged off your clothes and glanced to the mirror which was there for some stupid reason, not like you could see yourself anymore. You opened the cupboard grabbing some hair oil and soap before running the bath. Your hand reached to your back flinching at the angry scars you felt. You pulled your hand away quickly hearing footsteps suddenly. You snatched a towel and wrapped it around you and stopped the water hoping they’d leave, you really needed this bath.

“Who’s in there?” You heard Astarions voice, but didn’t answer.

“I’m going to assume it’s you Y/n by your lack of acknowledgement” he scoffed shuffling in the room.

“I’m not going to come in there if that’s what you’re worried about, have a bath for gods sake” he said and you gulped shaking your head. You drained the water and heard the drape open. You jumped seeing Astarion there with a raised eyebrow.

“What are you doing?” He asked watching the water leave. You didn’t answer holding your towel tightly and gulping.

“You smell have a bath!” He grumbled walking in and starting the bath again. You stayed in the corner against the walls making sure he was as far as away you could manage.

“Terrified little pup” he muttered pouring some scented oil in the bath.

“I don’t bite” he commented and you glared.

“I do, I lied” he shrugged. He stopped the water and gestured to the bath.

“Get in” he said and you stared, he was joking?

“You won’t bathe yourself” he huffed going over to you, your whole body tensed and you dashed out the bathroom.

“Hells sake” you heard him say as you awkwardly grabbed some new clothes. You yelped though when you were suddenly lifted into arms.

“Honestly” he huffed as you stayed frozen.

“Put me down” you said voice scared and he frowned looking down at you. Your body trembled in his hold now and his stern face faltered.

“Alright” he said rather softly letting you back to your feet. You stepped away from him and sat in the closet bed legs too shaky.

“The water will get cold, at least use it” he said nodding and leaving the room. You felt small relief fill you, guilt filled you also and pain as you went back to the bath.

Astarion hadn’t felt right the moment he tasted your blood the sweet taste it left made him shudder. Cazador had been eyeing you for weeks and after learning your routine he finally sent himself out. You smelt delicious even from the alley way, when he sank his fangs in and felt the warm blood go through him he felt alive, aroused, so many feelings flooding through him. He felt your panic, fear and felt you slip into unconsciousness, he almost drank you dry if it weren’t for the leash he had around his neck. It wasn’t the usual seduce and take back, Cazador wanted you instantly, no seducing. He felt possessive of your body as he carried you back, Cazador smirking from ear to ear as he took your body away into the unknown room. He didn’t see you for weeks, he felt you though, felt the cold panic, could taste your fear, the realisation that you’d become something you didn’t know was real. His mind was constantly brought back to you and he hated it, you were no one, another spawn in Cazadors army. When he finally saw you he felt relief in his body, you were terrified, body obeying Cazadors every word and command. You hadn’t tasted blood, your hungered eyes staring at the cup in the masters hand. As they sat at the table he felt ridged, as did he’s ‘brothers and sisters’. You knelt by the master like some dog, a slap hit you harshly when you whined. He felt like he felt the slap himself, felt the rage inside him wanting to slice his masters neck more than usual. He couldn’t see you properly from the table, he made sure to keep his eyes on his glass that Cazador so graciously provided, it was fresh human blood, something was going to happen to you. When Cazador forced him to follow him to the carving room he felt his stomach drop, your panic never left neither did your fear. It spiked seeing the room and your survival instincts kicked in. You hit him like a rock, bringing you both to the ground as you snarled ready to rip his neck off. He ceased your hair like you had to him and held you back trying to calm you, Cazador would kill you now. You were torn off him and he felt his body shoot up watching you be laid down in the table. He was ordered to tighten the restraints and your shirt was cut open. Astarion felt sick as Cazador carved into your back, your blood leaking onto the floor. It still smelt delicious, just cold, dead. Cazador had some sick plan to make him watch before he simply left you and him after he was finished.

Astarion waited till he was out of hearing range and cursed undoing your restraints, making sure you were still alive, well vampire alive. He grabbed a rag and pressed it against your back as it slowly healed. He lifted you and took you back to where he and his brothers and sisters stayed. They were all their eyes wide as he carried you. You were too cold, you had been so warm when he held you against him as he drank you, gods.

He cleaned you with a wet rag, glaring at the others when they went to comment, he hadn’t done this with anyone else. He laid you on the empty bed under him hoping you’d heal quickly. When you finally awoke, you were scared and disorientated, you took the blood vial Karliel gave you. When he spoke you snarled at him, it made him amused before he was shooed out. Before he even got down the hall you were rushing past him almost into the sunlight Cazador so nicely placed. He caught you before you could burn to a crisp, your hand just hitting the sun with a hiss. He held your hip and arm panting a bit at the immense feelings he felt from you. You fell from his arms before you turned and brought him down with you. You were once again trying to rip his throat out, only this time fists his face over and over and he let it happen your feelings too much for him before he caught your hands. You looked so broken and he felt his dead heart clench as you sobbed before you stared at his lips. Before he could react your lips went around his and sucked, you must’ve made his lip bleed. He couldn’t ignore the thrill that went through his body, but he had an audience and pushed you off. You looked terrified again and went to the wall crying. He’d asked for more blood, but none of the others didn’t have any making him scoff, but somehow he felt happy about it as he nicked his wrist. Your nose flared and you looked to his wrist as he offered. You denied, hesitated, but when you bit down he hissed trying to ignore the moan that wanted to leave his body as he felt your emotions and his blend together. You pulled from him holding your head as he frowned confused by these feelings. You were a terrified thing, you didn’t know what was going on, he didn’t blame your fear, but you’d have to settle eventually. A week past and you didn’t leave the bed, he swore you would grow some mushrooms if you didn’t move. He caught you moving when nobody was there, you’d get changed, read a book before continuing lying in the bed facing the wall. He didn’t watch you get changed, it was a relief though you didn’t stay in the same clothes and moved your muscles. When he heard water running he got curious asking who it was only to receive no answer and he knew. The water had stopped and suddenly leaving. He pulled the curtain back making you jump and grip your towel as the water left the bath. You were terrified of him more so than the others, he brought this upon you, he didn’t blame you, it hurt though for some reason, but he kept his stern unbothered act up. One thing was certain you needed a bath, you had dirt and dust on you, you were starting to smell dead too. He took it upon himself to run the bath again and poured in some scented oil. You’d darted out though going to the wardrobe, he cursed, stubborn thing you were. He picked you up, you wouldn’t take of yourself, he’d force you to. You didn’t move and the fear tasted sour on his tongue as you spoke softly to let you go. Your voice and trembling made him stop outside the bath as he let you to your feet and left you.

You finished your bath and felt clean for once. You got dressed in fresh clothes and drained the bath. You brushed your hair and went to the bookshelf. You grabbed a random one and sat on the bed sighing. You wanted to sleep, however vampires slept. Your emotions were haywire, some weren’t yours, it was hard to explain, like you were feeling someone else’s emotions as well as yours.

[throughtrialbyfire]

𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 ♥

you already know what time it is!!

thank you to the lovely and incredibly talented @skyrim-forever @your-talos-is-problematic @v1ctory-or-sovngarde @mareenavee @thequeenofthewinter and @dirty-bosmer for the tags this week!! i've been having an amazing time reading/looking at all your wips, and i know i say it always but i can't wait to see how your works turn out, whether writing or art!! wednesday has easily become my favorite day of the week bc of this community <3

i'm passing the tag to @umbracirrus @wispstalk @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @orfeoarte @caliblorn @thana-topsy @totally-not-deacon @aphocryphas @gilgamish and YOU! if you wanna hop in, tag me back, and no pressure as always!!

this week i've got a bit of a treat: i'm working on some art! it's one that's really pushing me out of my comfort zone in terms of pose, expression, and perspective, and i'm extremely excited to finish it and show what i've been up to! featuring the beloved Cicero, of course

aaaaaaaand since i posted chapter 14 of Cycle of the Serpent this past weekend, i'm gonna give you guys a long snippet of chapter 23. >:3c emeros is asking for the group's imperial pardon from general tullius, and it comes with a catch. fair warning, the snippet is LONG bc i am incapable of being normal about this fic. are you ready, because i sure fucking am

Emeros stifled a scoff. Athenath did not. Instead, the Altmer made a step forward, the Bosmer eyeing him with a quirked brow. The bard said, "we helped Hadvar, he said he'd help us out if we needed it." "Precisely." Emeros leveled. "In fact, he said that should we wish to acquire an Imperial pardon, to come directly to you, General Tullius." He lowered his brow. The General waited, shifting from foot to foot as he considered this, before waving an enormous hand and resting it again on the table, facing the map sprawled before him. Wooden pegs painted in red and blues littered various points, stuck in deep with metal ends. The light landed along the metal gleam of his armor, golden color running rotten in the days glare. "You know, not many survived that place. If you could give us a hand, Legate Rikke-" he motioned to the woman beside him, stray hairs catching the light, "-could have some use for you. Besides, I'm sure your being imprisoned was all a big misunderstanding." Wyndrelis cleared his throat and looked up at the Bosmer, already making a slow, calculated stride to the General, his teeth grit together. With a deep inhale, he spoke, ignoring the light twitch of his under eye, the pittering in his chest. "General, I do not wish to waste your time, nor do I believe mine is of any less value," he began, "however, my compatriots and I have come a long way to be here. Not to mention, the scene we witnessed in your town square-" "Roggvir, the traitor," Tullius scoffed, shaking his head, disbelief clearly running courses through him, "he opened the gate for Ulfric Stormcloak after he murdered High King Torygg-" "And started this bloody Civil War proper, yes, I'm well aware of the stories, sir." Emeros interrupted in a bored drone, his wrist making idle motions. General Tullius craned his neck to peer back at Emeros, one wrinkled brow raised. His face had the character of a man well beyond the usual glory days of a soldier, a war and weather-battered face, with the scarred and sun-roughened arms to match. He was no man to be trifled with in the slightest, and yet (despite the atrocious nerves burdening his every action, the weight of every word weighed heavy on the blade the General carried to cut out sharp-tongues like his) the alchemist bothered not with patience nor obedience here. Instead, the Bosmer lifted his chin, his posture taking all the hallmarks of Aldmeri society, his arms straight at his sides, his spine taut, his eyes skimming the face of the Imperial like a bird to a field mouse among the brush. "We are here for our pardon. Nothing more."

General Tullius turned again to face the Bosmer. "And we're low on men. Our ranks are thin enough as is. If you want your pardon, you'll have to earn it." He made no motion, no step, nothing to indicate intimidation, but the bead of sweat down the back of his neck brandished his demeanor, the stress he was under already. In the shadows, Emeros observed the bruise-dark circles forming under the man's eyes over the past few weeks of sleepless nights, the kind he'd seen on many an Imperial soldier returning to Cyrodiil from the front lines in the Great War. He'd been younger then, thought nothing of the bloodshed. But here? He saw the thirty years aftermath and the absurdity of the Civil War plain and simple.

"Then I believe we are at an impasse." Emeros simply turned on his heel and began the walk down the antechamber, guards unsure whether to apprehend the Bosmer or allow him to step away. General Tullius watched in disbelief, and as the doors parted, gave a great sigh.

"Wait, now."

Emeros stood on the precipice, light filtering in, casting his shadow long behind him. He turned. "Yes, sir?"

"I understand the urgency of your request, elf-"

"Emeros Nightlock."

General Tullius sighed again. "I understand the urgency of your request, mister Nightlock, but I can't grant something like that on a whim. I need to know you're not here to cause trouble. I know your winding up on the Helgen prison cart was probably just a misunderstanding, as well as these…" he gestured vaguely to Athenath and Wyndrelis, who were halfway through the antechamber and to their friends side when he'd turned back at the General's request, "…fine young people. But until I can verify that you've no intentions to make me regret that decision…"

"Ah," Emeros ticked, "a deed for a deed." He shut the doors, and made a solid march back to the war room as though nothing had happened. "Really, General, I would prefer if you had said so in the first place."

General Tullius inhaled deeply through his nose, leveling out whatever turmoil brewed behind his cold exterior. He made a motion to the Nord, Legate Rikke, who watched the trio with bewildered amusement. "You will speak to the Legate here, and do what she asks. Only then, can I grant your pardon."

"Thank you for your time, General Tullius." Emeros approached the Legate with a polite smile, the kind that barely graced his eyes, and spoke again. "What can we do for you, Legate Rikke?"

The Legate, her eyes keenly examining the three before her, barely tamped down the burgeoning smirk on her lips. "You three survived Helgen?" She shifted her light-hued gaze between their faces. Wyndrelis' nervous fidgeting, Athenath's fingers combing through his dark curls, and Emeros' cold expression, his posture high and solid - he silently hoped the shaking palms eluded her. "Not many made it out alive, you know. I've got a good feeling about you three, and I don't often get good feelings about anything. A warrior knows to trust her gut."

"Legate Rikke, I appreciate the sentiment deeply, but I would like to know what it is you're expecting us to… Do, exactly." Emeros watched the Legate as she lifted her brow, internally mulling something over before she spoke up again.

"You know, bravado gets soldiers killed."

"Fascinating. I will note that down for any soldiers I may meet."

"Emeros," Athenath hissed quietly, tugging his arm. The Bosmer seemed to come back to the room around him, as though he had been operating in some sort of pre-determined mode, a Dwemer automata wound up and gaining sentience. For a moment, his eyes flashed cold-sweat panic to the Altmer, then narrowed sternly. He returned his gaze to the Legate.

"Well," Legate Rikke breathed, sliding a palm over the map before her, "I'm sending you to clear out Fort Hraagstad. If you survive, you'll pass. If you die, then I'll have no further use for your corpses."

An icy fear grasped the trio, but Emeros merely cleared his throat and spoke again. "What is the purpose of this assignment?"

"The ancients built many of the fortresses that dot the landscape of Skyrim. Sadly, most have fallen into disrepair. And nearly all have been overrun with bandits or other vagabonds. Fort Hraagstad is one of the few that remains mostly intact. We're going to install a garrison there, but first, you three are going to clean out the bandits that have moved in."

"Mark it on our map, and we'll be off by morning." Emeros made a gesture behind himself, Wyndrelis fumbling with the map he tugged from his pocket, passing it to the Bosmer. He allowed Legate Rikke to make scratches along the surface with a quill, easy lines detailing the best path up to the fort, her face stern as she passed it back over to him.

"Good luck."

[ithebookhoarder]

SW: Reacting to a reader with Force Lightning Disease

A/N: Thanks to @jedigeneralmollykestis​ for sending this one in. This is technically part 2 of her ask - the first part / original post can be found here. 

Now, disclaimer, this is technically not a real disease, but Lightning Disease is, and I’m taking it more on the principal that the reader has a condition which means what the ask originally detailed where: “your heart is damaged and you have cardiac arrests through out your life.” 

Yet again, I’m no medical expert and I am making most of this up. However, if I get anything super wrong and you have medical experience, let me know 💕

(Obi-wan Kenobi x Reader) & (Anakin Skywalker x Reader)

Ok, so, in my mind Force Lightning Disease is similar to ‘lightning disease’, in that it is caused by a great electrical shock causing damage to your heart. 

Chances are you can thank a Sith Lord for the condition - probably Dooku, given his reputation.  

As such, you can bet you’re treated with great respect by your peers for risking your life to face him, and surviving - even if you didn't emerge unscathed. 

Many Jedi carry battle wounds and scars - each of which is seen as a medal in its own right, and yours would be no different. 

I’m also sure there would have been others who would have been diagnosed with such a condition, meaning that the medical team and your fellow Jedi wouldn't be completely without knowledge of what it is and what to do to support you. 

Like with most conditions where your heart can go into cardiac arrest there are things you can do to manage symptoms, even if you cannot necessarily cure it. 

As soon as Anakin and Obi-wan learn what you’re dealing with, they would be right by your side, asking the medical droids for information, as well as hitting the archives, to find out all they can about helping you manage the condition and stay healthy. 

For instance, these two make sure you have a water bottle on hand at almost every moment of the day, and usually carry one themselves just to be sure. 

They also know the importance of controlling high blood pressure by eating healthy foods. Luckily, the Jedi tend to keep meals simple, but that doesn't stop them making sure you get proper nutrition even in the field - be it via vitamins, some sort of infusion, or just them cooking for you when you have the time to. 

Getting regular exercise is also meant to help, which isn't an issue with these two. They’ll take you for walks in the gardens, run you through drills in the training arena, and even spar with you if you feel up to it. 

They also take great care to help you learn to lower your stress levels, be it through meditation or making sure you have time to rest. 

Obi would also make you some soothing tea whenever he could - which is apparently the key to his calm and patient demeanour (unlike his ex-padawan) 

He also has a clear schedule for any and all medication or medical appointments you may require. 

I think Anakin, given his technical abilities, would also be keen to help when it came to things like maintaining and monitoring mechanical aids, like a pacemaker etc. 

Just like he does with droids, he is constantly tinkering with prototypes for a new devices that will help manage your heart rate and possibly even help re-start your heart if you need it. 

On that note, I think it’s important to say that you couldn't have better company to watch over you, given the Jedi’s gifts. Their natural ability with the force means that they can detect the slightest change with you, and can often pre-empt any cardiac episodes. 

Their gifts also allow them to help heal you, and return your heart rate to a normal pace - making you stable enough for them to move you to get any additional medical help you may require. 

Plus, they won't exactly hate the chance to tease you about giving you mouth to mouth, should the need ever arise. 

You know they do it to help make you feel less conscious, as well as to make you laugh about the fact they get to kiss you in public without people thinking it’s weird. 

They want you to know that they love you and want to take care of you because you're important to them.

They do not see you as a burden or as weak or lesser than, just because of what happened to you and the battle you now face every day. If anything, it makes you braver than most.

They're always there to offer an encouraging word, or give you a much needed hug whenever you feel down about it and promise that they're not going anywhere. 

Masterlist

[peppered-moths]

Ooh we’re doing song gifts? Try Jericho by Celldweller! There’s definitely vibes there for something I’m sure!

SCARIAN. sorry. i can't help it. i also refuse to stop (specifically life series scarian)

"You feel so safe inside / The walls you fortified" - it's 3rd life. grian just wants to have some fun! he... he really didn't mean to kill him. let a creeper kill him. he pledges his first life- only his first life. as soon as he's yellow, he's out. no need to get attached.

"You build 'em up / You layer stone on stone / You build 'em high / To keep out your enemies" - grian doesn't want scar. not as an ally. but there's really nowhere else to go. dogwarts hates them, and he's already broken any trust he has with any other faction. so he doubles down instead, proves his loyalty. he sticks close to scar. out of necessity, of course.

"An unhappy ending to your final fantasy" - oh. that. that wasn't how it was supposed to end. maybe secretly, he had dreamed of the desert. of a life, maybe. something that wasn't survival. something that was them. but, well. there's- there's blood on his hands. it's sticky, and- grian doesn't think he wants to stick around much longer.

"Supremacy implied / Who dares to overthrow? / Arrogance justified / Self-importance amplified" - the southlands is powerful, one has to admit. largest faction on the server, bold enough to hand a life around like a piece of paper, distrustful enough to watch with eyes like a hawk. they build the walls high. grian tries to pretend there isn't anything pulling at his heart beyond the walls. because there isn't. he dreams of a desert.

"You're looking down / And feeling so profound / You're so impressed by your own false humility" - dulce et decorum est, pro patria mori. it is sweet and proper to die for one's country, so grian does the opposite. the southlands... well. there's always something to give up. he dies as he lives, running, though perhaps not from his heart this time.

"An unhappy ending to your sense of deity" - fine, then. he kills scott. strikes him down with a bolt of lightning, reveling in sharp-sweet power. is this what you wanted me to be? he sees the way scar- scar's ghost- looks at him. like there's still blood on his hands. ghosts cannot dream of deserts. never again.

"You sit alone / Up on your lonely throne / You're so oblivious / To your own frailty" - if the universe wants to screw him over, fine. see if grian cares! he's powerful on his own. he doesn't want scar. he doesn't remember what blood feels like on his knuckles. he doesn't dream of deserts. he wants his own choices for once!

"An unhappy ending to the life you've glorified / To the life you've glorified" - he doesn't even get to say i'm sorry. there's no closure. his eardrums ring. he thinks he should've died in the desert, when scar kissed him for the first and last time and he pretended it didn't matter. there is only the end. there is only the potential for another game.

"We'll all enjoy the show / It's down you go / Can't wait to see you go / When your walls fall like Jericho!" - we do enjoy the show, don't we? we watch them. we see things even they do not. did you watch the barriers falling? did you watch them come back up, deadly and thorn-covered? i think we all know how the next season ends. can't wait to watch.

[shadow0-1]

101 facts/ headcanons about Jackie babey

Readmore here cause idk how I can add it without breaking formatting but there's really 101 trust me on this

Afraid of bears. One too many close encounters from camping/hunting

Enjoys the occasional fishing trip. He’s okay at it

Isn't too fond of dogs (got bit as a kid)

Tries to foster cats whenever he can

Avid snowboarder. Could have gone pro

Wanted to be search and rescue growing up

Carries around a matchbook instead of a lighter

Can bake better than he cooks

Mountain man. Born and grew up in a ski town in the Rockies

Shit driver. Laswell banned him from driving

Got an ego during his EOD days and got humbled to the point of doubting his skills when he almost died

Doesn't drink coffee because he knows he'll be reliant on it

Has an older brother, Jaime (5 years)

Played a lot of baseball as a kid. Was his school's starring pitcher

Subsequently got benched for a season because he broke his arm skateboarding across a street

Would say he got the scar under his eye from shrapnel if asked (he didn't)

Was captured and got his face cut up

The notch on his ear is from shrapnel tho

Slammed face first into a tree branch while snowboarding as a teen and got a fun little eyebrow scar from it

Very cuddly. Physical touch is his love language

Runs warm

Definitely the guy that wears a tshirt and shorts when it’s freezing outside

Gets miserable and cranky when it's too hot

Enjoys jogging but usually doesn't wake up early enough to do it in the morning

Sleeps like shit. Turns out he's just gay and needs someone to cuddle with

He's a tease and loves being a little shit

Likes to respond with "that's classified" to mundane questions just to be annoying

Has capybara energy

Has beef with anyone who bends the rules for personal gain

Cracked a bunch of his ribs during an explosion

Prone to some real bad panic attacks where he'll feel like he's suffocating all over again

Doesn’t like wearing heavier armors anymore because they make him feel claustrophobic

Got his reaper tattoo after almost dying in said explosion

Was besties with a guy named Evan in his army EOD days (definitely didn't have a crush on him

Evan designed the other tattoo on his back (a fucked up looking door)

@depyotee designed the forest tat on his left arm

After his recruitment and deployment to Urzikstan for some Top Secret operation, he and Evan started tallying their defusals. Jackie got triangles on his right bicep and Evan got crosshairs

He stopped counting after he almost died (and Evan did die)

Has some gnarly survivors guilt and feels as if it was his fault

Gets nervous when people say they trust him (Evan’s last words to him were “don’t worry, I trust you”)

Alex tipped him off about some gas shipments he and Farah were tracking and Jackie eventually got tasked to assist Shadow Company in finding the rest of the shipments and to destroy them

Added some gunships and vtols by his tally tats a few months into his mission with Graves. Got them to mark new beginnings and new heights

Didn't go with a cover up because Evan wasn't able to get a proper burial. Needed/wanted something to remember him by

Mission lasted a couple years. They totally didn't pine for each other like a bunch of high schoolers

Graves offered him a permanent spot in Shadow after the mission was completed but Jackie declined

Graves calls him cowboy because he kept getting teased for saying "yee fuckin' haw"

Graves confiscated his cigs cause Jackie mentioned he wanted to quit smoking once

Shepherd thinks that him sitting a desk all day is a waste of manpower and his skills. He’s not exactly fond of Shepherd

His mom has a cat that he spoils

Out of all the Shadows, he gets along with Dipaolo the best (not counting Graves)

He tagged along with Laswell, Price and Gaz to Spain for recon by fire but stayed at the hotel or whatever cause Laswell said it was going to be all chill. It wasn’t and he blamed himself for not insisting to go along to help

Price wouldn’t let him join the rescue mission because because too emotional. Jackie responded rationally by punching his car. Later sat and sulked and called Graves to get his mind off wanting some cigs

Had a little Thing™ with Kamarov during the armistice

Fast learner, picked up a lot of tips and tricks while working intel for the armistice

Feels deeply indebted to both Laswell and Alex

Laswell trusts Jackie’s intuition even if he doesn't anymore

Likes collecting patches from different special forces groups and what not. Has a case for them in his apartment

Has a CIA issued apartment that he rarely spends any time in. It’s depressing and has almost no decorations because He’s Busy

Worked with the Los Vaqueros briefly in 2016/2017

Can play the guitar but it's been a few years so he might miss a chord or two

Has a 1965 mustang back home that his grandfather left for him. Plans on fixing it up when/if he retires

Knows a variety of mixed martial arts

Could probably outrun the 141 if he really tried

He has some bangin thighs

His handwriting is dogshit. Laswell's lucky he types anything important (Capable of writing neat and tidy but it takes significantly longer)

Got really into photography one winter. Mainly takes scenery pics

Shoplifted regularly as a kid (mainly sodas and candy bar kinda stuff) only got caught once

Has a sweet tooth but most things are too sweet for him now

He got a fat dumpy okay. A real dumptruck ass.

Modeling is not a part of my skill set yet and Jackie's head was made by editing the models and textures of existing characters

Enjoys a good carnival every once in a while. Can almost always win any of the games where you have to throw things (ring toss, balloon and darts, bucket toss etc)

Got his shit wrecked the first time he sparred with Graves. They have a little “no holding back” rule and Jackie almost broke Graves’ arm because he wouldn’t tap out once (it was a rough week)

First thought/impression he had of Graves was "no way this guy's a commander" (Graves’ first impression of Jackie was “wow he seems like a piece of shit”

His voice is kinda like Lee Pace's but a little deeper and more gravely

Has a fear of looking out a window at night and seeing something/someone staring back at him (contributes to his fear of bears)

Had a close encounter with a mountain lion once while on a hunting trip with his dad

Wasn't exactly the most well behaved kid. Left on kinda bad and tense terms but he'd made it up with his mother. Stays with her whenever he gets a vacation

Things are still a bit weird with his brother. Gets even weirder when Jaime becomes a CIA lawyer (they're chill now)

Left because his parents were divorcing and he couldn’t stand being in the house any longer. Doesn’t really talk to his father anymore. His mother doesn’t talk about it but Jackie knows it’s because his father started drinking

He will almost always speak his mind

Will go to events just for a free t shirt

Has commandeered plenty of shirts, jackets and sweats from Shadow Company. Graves pretends not to notice. He has more Shadow gear than CIA

His favorite color is blue

Teased Alex about Farah. Alex got his revenge soon after Jackie started working with Graves

Has a lot of anxiety when it comes to field work. Worked through a lot of it since his assignment with Shadow

Greatly appreciates Graves not pushing him to get on the field

Sort of became Shadow's demolitions expert during their assignment together

Honorary Shadow. Shadow-Actual was his call sign 😌

Eventually joined them on the field. Stuck mainly to minor roles at first until he got more comfortable. Would sometimes rig explosives

Al Qatala had been expecting them during one outing and had rigged the building they were in to blow. Jackie managed his first defusal in a decade with help and encouragement from Graves

Hates when people say he’s lucky. He was lucky to be at the top of his class during training, lucky to keep all his limbs intact, lucky he never got blown up yet, lucky he survived that blast

Didn’t start calling Graves by his first name until 3 months into the mission. Just felt weird

Regrets never telling Evan about his feelings. He wouldn’t make that same mistake with Graves

Teases Graves for putting the rook on one of the Shadow Company logos. Laswell taught Jackie how to play chess and Graves has never won against him because he's a sweaty tryhard

Got a reputation for being really calm and chill and he does his best to maintain that image even when he doesn't know what he's doing or what the best decision is

Has a scar on his right arm from climbing a barbed wire fence on a dare

Got arrested for trespassing once (definitely not related)

Laswell told him that he shouldn’t have to feel like he has to stick around because he still feels indebted to her. She encourages him to take Graves’ job offer if he really wants to

Promised Laswell’s wife that he’d kick her out of the office if she stays too late, keenly aware that he himself is a hypocrite and has stayed late just as many times as Laswell

Graves thinks it’s funny to call Jackie “rabbit/bunny”

Jackie and Graves help directly set up the game events because I said so

[shieldherostuffs]

Can you do Lucky 38 for the Spotify Wrapped thing?

38. I Do Adore by Mindy Gledhill

TheRuFumi :D

Love had never been something Naofumi expected to feel so strongly. But it had happened, and now, so much time after the first glance, he couldn't even bring himself to dislike it.

The three of them were all so different and yet so alike on some points, but it just made him love them even more.

He'd really fallen hard. Honestly, L'Arc could send him one of his bright-as-the-sun grins that would light up the whole building, or Therese could give him one of her soft and gentle smiles that would make anyone feel warm inside, and Naofumi would feel his knees go weak and his cheeks heat up.

Sometimes, even if it wasn't cold at all, and the sun would be high in the sky, small beams filtering through the leaves on the forest trees, Naofumi would glance over at L'Arc and Therese walking beside him, and upon seeing the tiny sunbeams on their smiling faces, would pull his hood, hiding his blush. When asked, he would say it was so he didn't get the sun in his eyes, before quickening his walk. As he would hear their chuckles behind him, he'd let a small smile slip onto his lips.

But, it wasn't only when they smiled or grinned or these small ethereal moments that made him love them. It was the little things too.

One morning,

"Kiddo, morning! Did you sleep well?" L'Arc grinned from his place at the kitchen counter, with a cutting board and some world-native fruit in front of him, and a kitchen knife in hand.

Naofumi knew what he must've looked like, with morning hair and bags under his sleep-bleary eyes, clothes wrinkled and haphazardly put on. He nodded sleepily at L'Arc's question.

"Naofumi! Good morning! We were just finishing breakfast for everyone. Would you like the first plate, since everyone else is asleep?" Therese asked, standing behind the fantasy-world stove run by magic.

"Mhm." He wasn't awake enough to form coherent sentences yet, but he could still give a little smile

As he sat down by the table, it seemed L'Arc and Therese's smiles had become even brighter

"Naofumi, did you perhaps spend the night making new jewelry again?" Therese asked as she started moving whatever was on the pan onto a large plate instead.

"Mmnnggnh" Naofumi groaned in lieu of an answer.

He watched as Therese swiftly moved around the kitchen, putting things away in a corner to be washed later, and moving the finished breakfast to another spot on the counter to have it together. L'Arc was almost done easily cutting the fruit, and Therese went over with a bucket to throw the peels and stems in as L'Arc finished the last fruit, throwing it into the bowl in front of him.

All too swift and quickly and naturally, as if they'd done or practiced it before.

"Kiddo, you need to get some proper rest for once. If you keep this up we'll just have to cuddle you to keep you on the bed." L'Arc said as he went to wash his hands. Kizuna's house may have been a little more modernized than the rest of the world, but she had yet to figure out a working sewer system and were to lead it, so for now, they still had just two buckets. Or for the worst of it, with just water, and one with water a soap.

Naofumi couldn't help but stare at L'Arc's hands as he washed them, with a few scars and nicks here and there, and callouses from wielding his scythe for years and fighting, hands now so strong after so long.

Suddenly, a plate was placed in front of Naofumi, ripping his thoughts away from L'Arc's pretty hands, to Therese now standing beside him.

Her hair was braided differently today, now in a tighter, neater one down her back, instead of the usual comfortable one over her shoulder, and the jewel in her forehead shone brightly in the morning sun through the windows, just like her smile.

Naofumi's eyes flittered between the two, as they got their own plates and sat down on each side of him at the large round table, Therese to the left, and L'Arc to the right. The two were smiling and making eye contact as if having a silent conversation as they ate.

After a few minutes of silent eating and Naofumi greatly enjoying their prepared meal, the two turned their eyes to Naofumi, just as he looked back up at them.

The two smiled brightly, eyes filled with something Naofumi dearly hopes he had guessed right on, and Naofumi know that if he'd been standing at that moment, his knees would've given out, and he'd be a blushing mess of a shield hero puddle on the ground.

He smiled back, eyes filled with nothing but adoration.

[smallbunn]

New Sweater!

It’s shocking, really, just how bored Scar gets up in the desert house Grian built. Sure, he spends a lot of time out of the house, roaming the world, trading with people, even getting into fights, but there’s still a lot of time where he can’t think of anything to do, so he stays in the desert. He wanders, patching up holes and making the desert generally safer, he tends to the garden he and Grian have, and he adds more decorations to the inside of the house.

And yet, he’s still bored. Well, he was, until he found something to keep him busy. The idea comes to him when he’s petting Pizza, watching grian flutter around the desert, putting cactus around the edge. When Grian comes back, Scar can't help but notice how torn up his beloved red sweater is. There are rips in the collar and bottom of the shirt and the holes where his wings fit through have been stretched out, leaving parts of his back exposed.

Scar lights up when the idea finally clicks in his head! He rushes inside, ignoring Grians questioning noise as Scar runs past and heads to the storage area. There’s shears in here somewhere, and if not, there’s plenty of iron to make some! When he runs past Grian again and Grian asks him what the shears are for, he simply says that Pizza needs a shaving so he doesn’t overheat. It’s not necessarily a lie, Scar was planning on shearing Pizzas wool at some point, but Scar tries avoiding Grian for the rest of the night, to keep himself from accidentally telling him what he’s really up to.

Scar ends up saving Pizzas wool, storing it under his bed, and spends a few weeks practicing with sheeps wool, just to make sure he gives Grian the best sweater he could make! It takes a while, Scar can only really work on it at night, when Grian is sound asleep, or when Grian is out on solo missions, though that happens rarely.

He practises everyday for over a month before he finally decides he’s ready! The only problem now is that he doesn’t know Grians measurements, much less how small the holes in the back need to be to fit his wings through while still covering his back.

Which may result in Scar doing something that, in hindsight, was probably a little dumb. Scar, however, does not realize that until he is knocked out of Grians bed so hard and fast, he hits his head on the floor and Grian is yelling at him in confusion.

“Scar?? What the hell was that?? What were you doing in my bed?” Scar chuckles a bit before stammering out, “Well, I, uh, I was cold! You don’t know how cold it gets at night, G! You’ve got your wings to warm you up, I was just trying to get warm too!”

Scar is not sure Grian believes him. In fact, he's almost certain he doesn’t, but Grian softens anyway, wings pulling themselves back to his body, as Grian lets out a sigh followed by a small laugh and shake of his head. He doesn’t look at Scar as he motions him over to his bed. He doesn’t look at him when Scar hesitantly crawls under the covers. He doesn’t look at Scar in the morning after waking up to Scar spooning him. And even though Scar didn’t get the measurements he needed, he wouldn’t call that night a failure!

After a few more days of trying (and failing) to get the proper measurements, Scar decides to wing it! He makes the sweater slightly bigger than he thinks he needs to but, hey! Better too big than too small! Scar struggles a little bit, but he spends countless nights awake, knitting the sweater until it’s perfect.

The sun is high in the sky when Scar comes around the back of the house to find Grian tending to the garden. He has the sweater hidden behind his back and he knows immediately that Grian is suspicious of him when he looks up. He can’t stop himself from bouncing on his toes, a huge grin on his face as he takes the sweater out from behind his back.

“I noticed your sweater’s been in pretty bad shape for a while now and I can’t just let you go running around like that! So, here! Make sure you thank Pizza for the wool she provided!” Grian stares at Scar for a moment, his mouth open, glancing between Scar's face and the sweater. Hesitantly, he gets up and wipes his hands on the front of his pants before taking the new sweater, a smile spreading across his face.

“Scar, I- Thank you! When did you even work on this?” There’s confusion in his voice but his fluttering wings let Scar know that he really does like it. Scar wastes no time in telling Grian about how he had come up with the perfect plan and executed it to perfection while they head into the house for Grian to change.

When Grian comes out after putting the sweater on, Scar practically tackles him in a bear hug, nearly yelling about how cute Grian looks in it, Grians face burning red at the compliments. Grian lets Scar hug him for a few more moments before he pushes him off and tells him he has to finish replanting the potatoes.

If Grian notices Scar staring at him the rest of the day, he doesn’t mention it. In return Scar doesn’t mention Grian wearing the new sweater to sleep. Doesn’t mention how Grian is extra careful around the cactus when he’s wearing his new sweater. Doesn’t mention how happy he feels seeing Grian wear the new sweater he made him.

[discomedusae]

If Spy TF2 wanted estrogen I'd fucking get mine out for him. Don't worry babe this is Premium Gourmet Hormones. Then we kiss so hard he gets lightheaded and passes out on me and then I have to get him to Medic TF2 and then Spy wakes up and pukes out his estrogen pills (my estrogen btw) and Medic is like #slay and he lifts up his shirt (takes 20 seconds bc he's also wearing his coat) and he shows me his top surgery scars and me and Spy high five with him and then we all go to Starbucks together. Then me and Spy leave together after 2 hours and a Frapuccino Cunt Frinkles Sprinkle Rainbow Transgenderism Drink and we take a walk and I show him the meaning of Christmas (he passes out again I think he's anemic or something) then we go to the hospital because it's starting to worry us and then the Medic (BLU Medic because RED Medic is still at Starbucks getting it on with RED Heavy) tells me that my homemade estrogen pills are making Spy have slay syndrome (he faints a lot because he has subconsciously believed it is a Disney Princess attribute ever since he was 12 and my estrogen pills are making him have flashbacks) then me and Medic absolutely beat the everloving shit out of each other and Spy joins in then we stop because we know he's too fragile. So then we have a civilized conversation and Medic and I work out the Estrogen Slay Protection Hormones Or Some Shit so finally we figure out a proper hormone treatment for Spy so he stops fainting and I somehow lose all of my estrogen so I have horrible mood swings but Spy plays baby sensory videos for me every night then we kiss and every time I toot Spy TF2 gets scared but I comfort him and tell him it's okay. We will get married in Ohio by the way. One night I have this deafening glass-shattering toot and he flies out of the window and falls in the middle of the street like a lost kitten (he falls inside a box broken bones yadda yadda) and when I wake up because I can't feel his Spy TF2's beautiful slender hands. His hands scream elegance- Perfection even. Sculpted by god's finest angels himself. hugging me I scream like a wife losing her husband and then I run out of my apartment (we're in France right now I know it's an L but play along) and I find him Peter Family Guying Death Pose in the middle of the street and I do a little femenine run barefoot with just a nightgown on me and Spy TF2 is bleeding out of his mouth and ears and I kiss him and take him in my arms and since Medic is too busy reading literature with Heavy I take him to Engineer and Engie stares me up and down (disheveled little lady holding her Sloinky Boinky Thin Little Baguettelimbs Husband) and he clicks his tongue and I set Spy (he's like trying not to die right now we need him alive) on an operating table and then Engineer asks me if I'm fucking stupid and I break down crying and ask him if he's talking about the Toot or the fact I'm treating him like a Medic and he ignores both of my questions and starts talking about how he and Spy used to be married (I think he included something like a divorce because Spy is married to me now I think this is our honeymoon AND I ignored everything Engineer said because I was in his bathroom taking a very silent dookie) anyway I get out of the bathroom and Spy is ok again then we pull up to Merasmus TF2 and he gives me the Toot-Silencer spell in which I am cursed for the rest of my life to have light toots and never fart like a champion anyway Spy and I are now happily married and the toot incident will never happen again (he's also told me he's genderfluid and we kissed really hard and he didn't pass out this time so we celebrated by watching Finding Nemo)

[fandom-puff]

Jealous/ Possessive Sandor Clegane HCS

Requested by: anon

Warnings: jealousy/possessiveness, cheeky bit of smut ;)

Gif creds to owner

Sandor Clegane does not share

He doesn’t give a shit who talks to you or who you’re friends with, but as soon as they lay a finger on you that’s a little too friendly, a little too low down on your back to be considered ‘friendly’ he’ll step in

He doesn’t even need to do much

He just kinda... looms over the person until they shit themselves and run in the opposite direction

He normally gets a stern look and a telling off from you but he simply replies

“If that greasy cunt goes near you again, I’ll choke him with his own cock,”

You roll your eyes, but you know he’s serious

It does make you feel safer though

At the start of your relationship, he was more prone to jealousy, out of insecurity that you’ll leave him for a proper handsome Jaime Lannister-esque knight, not a scarred dog who refuses to be called Ser

As you grow closer (maybe even marry) this worry dissipates, and he no lingers fears you’ll leave him

That doesn’t stop him telling at least two people a day to fuck off.

If you’re going into a busy city, he’ll insist you ride sat in front of him on Stranger; he remembers the riot in Kings Landing all too well, and he won’t have any more little birds with broken wings

If he sees a slight injury on you he’ll jump into action

“Who the fuck gave you that bruise on your arm?”

“No one, Sandor, I knocked a doorframe,”

“I’ll fuckin’ kill it,”

“Can it wait until winter when we need the firewood then?”

Lol good luck walking if Sandor decides to show all those posh lords whose lady you really are

And be prepared to wear high collars 🤪🤪 dogs bite

He also grabs

When you make love (or fuck, as he so eloquently puts it, even if it is slow and tender) he likes having as much of you touching him as possible

And you’re the only person who gets to see him fully naked and fully vulnerable

He’s conflicted because on the one hand, he thinks he’d be a shit dad, but at the same time he 👏likes👏to👏fill👏you👏up👏

Wink wonk

Yeah he has a bit of a breeding kink soz I don’t make the rules

And unlike other characters in GOT, he doesn’t give a shit about heirs either

He just likes the idea of you being so full of his seed that you swell, and the idea of people knowing from your swollen belly that youre his

Holds you close when he sleeps; frightened you’ll slip away (absolute nightmare if you need the bathroom in the middle of the night)

Has a habit of pushing you behind him when he senses danger

Likes putting the massive shield that is himself in between you and danger

Honestly if anything ever happened to you he wouldn’t be able to live with himself

He’s just a softy ok

But don’t fuck with him bc he is not above ✨shanking✨someone if they hurt you or make you uncomfortable

[baekhvuns]

the duke and his general.

synopsis : in which seonghwa is the duke you’re arranged to, while you’re the general of the royal army.

pairing : seonghwa x reader

themes : angst, romcom & smut.

word count : 15k ( part three + final )

three weeks.

three weeks since you last saw the man you once loved.

“miss y/n, would you like your breakfast in the room?”

you lift your head up front the mountain of blankets piled up on you, with a hazy smile and tired face you nod. “that would be great, thank you.”

you shut your eyes once the maid leaves, wanting nothing but the nauseous feeling in your stomach to stop, but the pounding headache makes you shoot up in panic.

your hand automatically flies to your mouth and your eyes widen, you run to the bathroom, lifting the toilet seat up before puking your guts out.

you’re breathing heavily and it feels like you’re about to die, as if someone’s squeezing your insides. tears run down you cheeks and you open your mouth once again.

clutching your shirt tightly you swallowed, “s-seonghwa, where are you?” you call out. flushing the toilet, you get up from the ground, stepping towards the sink to clean yourself.

“hwa,” you call out once again, but no one responds. holding your stomach, you walk out to see the maid standing there with worry etched on her face, you smile lightly and take a seat.

“miss, are you alright?” the elderly lady asks you nod through the insane headache you have, “the duke, he’s gone for a trip, he’ll be back before dinner.”

you nod once again and she leaves the tray beside you with a worried face, “thank you.” once she leaves, your eyes settle on the delicious food made for you.

as much as you want to eat it, your stomach is telling you no. it’s as if you have no appetite left, as if all of it was flushed down the toilet. you push the tray away, and shut your eyes before laying on the bed again.

the next time you wake up, it’s the evening. your room is cleaned by the maids and it’s empty. your bed is cold, but the headache seems to disappear, you lift yourself up and glance around the room.

still, no sign of seonghwa.

ever since the day he yelled at you for going to the war, which you were rightfully wrong in, he hasn’t spared you a glance. you know the ‘trip’ he’s gone to is just a way to ignore you, and truthfully, you do deserve it.

after all, you did think recklessly and went to fight on the battlefield. but you had a valid reason, but the man just wasn’t ready to listen to any of your talk.

your hand lifts up to caress your neck, the wound on it patched up in a white bandage. it hurt, you’re sure their might be a scar forming on it already, if not, you’ve already been scarred by his words.

a sigh flees your lips, your hair falls over your shoulders and you stand up to walk outside. the walk to the gardens is short but it feels like forever, there’s no one in the palace.

guards are off for their afternoon break, yet a few of them are having lunch in their quarters. you decide to take a seat on the white bench that overviews the garden, the sun rays pout down on you and the slight wind eases your nauseous mood.

you usually sit beside seonghwa on this bench, his hands around your shoulder and his chin resting on your head. no matter how much you tried to get away from him, he’d pull you even closer, whining in your ear about you not giving him enough attention.

you smile at the sudden memory reeling through your mind, but then it fades, and it reminds you that he’s not beside you. you’re sitting alone in a field of flowers with a hand on your stomach, caressing it slowly.

you wander around the palace, eyes lowered to the floor because you didn’t want to meet the pity stares of the workers. one of them being kind enough to make you something to eat, that which you ate in the silence of the kitchen and again, you felt nauseous.

you held your head in your hands, lips trembling and your eyes watery. low sniffles echoed the kitchen and your hair acted as a curtain, covering your face.

your shoulders shake slightly as tears rolled down your cheeks, you’ve never felt so weak in your entire life. it’s weird, because you’re supposed to be stronger in the time, you’re in, but it really is disappointing when the only person you’ve loved isn’t by your side.

when you hear footsteps from afar, you quickly get up. wiping your eyes so that no traces of tears were visible, you let your hair fall in-front of your swollen eyes and walked by the group of people who you only recognized as your comrades.

“y/-“

you walk straight past them, have been for the last few weeks. avoiding their calls for your name and speed walking down to your room, locking yourself in.

the guys look at each other unsurely, san sighs before leaving them standing in the middle of the hallway. the rest glance at each other, silence enveloping them all.

“what do we do?” yunho breaks the silence, running a hand through his hair.

hongjoong shakes his head, “we can’t do anything, he’s the only who can do something to fix whatever’s happening.”

“but we can’t just do nothing, i don’t think i’ve ever seen her so down.” wooyoung squeaks, swallowing at that thought.

“where even is he?” yeosang breaks his silence, “i haven’t seen him in days.”

“he’s spending time down at the stables, he’ll be back around dinner.” with a tired sigh they all walk to their respective places.

and when night does fall, all of them finding each other sitting down sitting down by the table. the king and queen sitting at the farther end, you sitting opposite seonghwa while the rest sit wherever they wanted.

you play around with the food placed on your plate; you haven’t lifted your eyes ever since you walked in here. choosing to sit quietly in your chair while nibbling on the food that you don’t crave for.

the dinner is silent, if not for the random conversations created by wooyoung and san and occasionally by the rest. seonghwa’s mother talks to you and you could hear the excitement in her voice, she goes on and on about her wish for seonghwa to have kids.

you resist the urge to laugh with her, showing a smile as she handed you extra portions of the food you’ve barely touched.

and as for seonghwa, the man sitting in front of you seems unrecognizable, he’s sitting proper, hair brushed back with a smile on his face that’s so fake that it hurts to look at, he chats with hongjoong who sat beside him.

he hasn’t dared to look at you in the eye but you know him too well, you know it’s hurting him to do this but he’ll do it until it quenches his satisfaction.

just as you bring a bite of food near your mouth, your eyes widen and you stare at seonghwa before glancing at his mother, who thankfully, was already looking at you.

you flash her a look of pain before shooting your hand up to your mouth, eyebrows crossed you cursed in your mind.

“i-“ you start but you’re not able to finish because you make a run for it your room. holding onto your stomach as you ran, leaving the rest in confusion.

seonghwa’s mother immediately rushes behind you, leaving the rest. the guys get up from their seats, face etched in worry as they watch you run with confused yet worried eyes.

seonghwa’s father, the king, himself is worried but when his eyes land on his son sitting calmly, eating his food as if nothing had just happened, made him confused yet irritated.

san’s eyes shot daggers into seonghwa’s skull, jaw clenching at the fact that your husband is blatantly ignorant you while you’re pregnant. his face shows utter anger for the man before he walks to your room, hongjoong follows soon after.

his father gives the rest of the guys a nod and they too find themselves walking to your room, leaving only him and seonghwa in the room.

“what do you think you’re doing.” his father questions, wiping his hands on the napkin.

seonghwa looks up, “having dinner, father.”

his father raises his eyebrows, “oh, and how about y/n? your wife?”

“what about her?”

his father squints his eyes at him, “your wife, who’s pregnant and is sick, while you’re sitting here as if you don’t know her! how inconsiderate you are.”

seonghwa clenches his jaw at his father, but when his father gives him a look, he tones it down. “you’ll behave the same way if you find out what’s she did.”

“i do not care what she has done, what matters is her health and the child she’s carrying, your child!”

“dad, she went to the war!” he yells, finally loosing it. “she went to the war alone knowing she was not in the right condition too!”

his father stands up, “you, go to her right now. what matters is that she’s alive, right now she needs you the most but you’re here sitting as if none of it bothers you!”

“you’re stubborn,” he pauses, “just like your mother.”

the entire week had been tough for you, you had terrible morning sickness, crazy headaches, uncomfortable sleep patterns, tiredness and barely any appetite.

fortunately, seonghwa’s mother had been by you through all of it, with some special appearances from san and hongjoong who seemed to have made it their schedule to visit you four times a day.

your cravings for certain foods had increased drastically, which made san run to the markets late at night to get you what you wanted. or how sensitive your nose had gotten, almost making hongjoong shower three times.

on the nicer and not hard times, you were able to be in your bed the entire day. or take a walk in the gardens while one of the guys accompanied you, lifting your mood up with their jokes.

but you didn’t want any of that, you wanted seonghwa.

speaking of him, he is in the palace, but sleeps in a different room. eats at a different time as you so he wouldn’t have to see you, or when you two walk by each other, he barely looks at you but you bow your head at him.

“it’s your highness for you.”

you hated doing it, hated it when he didn’t look at you. as much as in the past you’d shoo him away, now you were urging for the said man. hoping he’d at least exchange a few words with you.

but you aren’t blind either, you know he asks the maids to check up on you, or just to check on the baby growing inside of you. you know he sees you walk around the hallways, hiding the pain on your face from the cramps.

his mother and father sympathized with you, offering, and helping you with anything you needed.

but failing to bring one man.

others couldn’t help but be upset at the situation, guards who stood outside your room late at night could hear the faint sound of you weeping.

the guys weren’t blinded to it either, they could hear your cries at the late hours of night. when you think everyone’s fallen asleep, they hadn’t seen such side of you and it shocked them but also made them angry at the man.

so when you decided you have had enough, with his parents permission you pack your bags and leave the palace for a few days or even more. finding home at your parent’s, who welcomed you with bright smiles not knowing what had really happened.

your mother fed you the butteriest meals ever, never not leaving your side even for a minute. or how your father brought a thick book full of names, sitting on his favourite burgundy couch with his glasses on and a lamp turned on beside him, looking over the lists of names to find a contender.

or how your older brother had joined, returning from the navy only to bother you by mentioning ridiculous names to name his niece or nephew. he brought home multiple toys and takes the time to accompany you to the market, lending a hand for holding the bags.

“seriously y/n, if it’s a girl, name her-“

“for the last time sehun, i’m not gonna name my child after some fancy revolver or a alcohol brand!”

“no, but imagine nam-“

“i’m not gonna name my kid ak-47!”

“how about hennessy!”

“get out of my face!”

and as for the the situation in the palace, let’s just say no one has spoken about you for the past two days. you had been living with your parents and they all couldn’t be more happier knowing you’re in a much better environment.

they continue their daily activities at ease, visit you once and in a while and careful not to mention you.

and his royal highness, the duke of eden, park seonghwa sits inside his office. his second home, files piled up to his neck but none of them seem important to him.

his eyes are stuck at the door, waiting for the maid to walk in and put him at ease. by of course, telling him about you.

he’s keeping track of time, eyes flickering from the clock to the door. he finds himself being more and more impatient, tapping his feet under his table repeatedly.

“where is she,” he says, having waited too long he stands up and leaves his office to go and find the maid himself.

when he doesn’t find her, he asks another one who had just walked out a room. she hastily bowed down but he dismissed it all, “where is y/n?” he watches her eyes grow wide.

“you highness, you’ve told us not to talk about her.”

“you see, i’m- just tell me how she is,” he says, and she slowly lifts her head up.

“the duchess, she’s not in the palace.”

“what?”

“she hasn’t been in then palace for days now, i believe today is the third day.”

his eyes widen, “where is she?”

“that i do not know, your highness.” and with that she walks away, leaving a wide eyed seonghwa panicking in the hallway.

he stops for second, the skin between his eyebrows touches before moving back. he runs a hand through his black hair, eyes wandering left and right.

when it finally clicks in his mind that you’re gone, his face drops in disbelief. he walks down the hallway to your room, wanting to see it for himself and tell himself that you were in the palace.

but when he opens the door his shoulders immediately slump, he walks inside. clenching his jaw as your scent hits his nose, a wave of worry washes over him when he doesn’t see you anymore, not in the room or the bathroom.

instead, it’s empty, his breathing wavers and his voice calls for you. but no one responds, he then walks out, his footsteps turn into him sprinting down the halls, searching every single room in the big palace. he can’t find you anywhere.

he finally turned left and burst open the door, breathing heavily his eyes falling over the guys sparing him a glance before continuing their work.

“where’s y/n?” he breaths out, walking in and slamming his hands on the table.

wooyoung looks up, “what do you want?”

seonghwa bites his lips, ticking his eyebrow at the nonchalant attitude of wooyoung. “where’s y/n, and what’s with that attitude?”

hongjoong drops his files with a bang and glares up at the man, “what’s with your attitude? and why do you even care, you didn’t want to see her face two seconds ago, now what happened?”

“ah, did your brains finally fall back in place?” wooyoung brings his hands behind his head, leaning back on the chair while eyeing seonghwa up and down.

“just tell me where she is,” seonghwa spits out, “why isn’t she in her room?”

“ask yourself that, why isn’t she here? how big of an idiot are you?”

“a big one,” mingi adds.

“she’s not here, and for the better.” san speaks from the back and seonghwa scoffs.

“and what would you know is the better for her?” he retorts.

“she knows what’s better for her, none of you need to decide it. and for your information she’s at her parent’s house,” hongjoong pauses, “because she couldn’t deal with the atmosphere you created.”

seonghwa runs out, ignoring whatever hongjoong mused at him. in his mind, he had to see you and so he walked to the stables and rode a horse to the town, where you were.

“have you already thought of a name?” you glance shortly at your mother, who cupped her face in her hands, eyes blinking, wide and bright.

“no,” you respond, focusing on the mandarin you were peeling before tossing it in your mouth.

you heard her sigh, and she holds your hand. “y/n, what’s going on,” her warm voice asked, and you shook your head.

“nothing,” you ate another piece and then your mother smacks your hand lightly.

“i know something is!” she exclaims, “you and seonghwa fought, didn’t you?”

“we did,” you confess, and she shoots you a look. “i don’t wanna talk about it.” with that you get up and walk away, ignoring the calls of your name.

you find purchase in sitting on the swinging couch in the small garden your family had, throwing your head back and looking off into nothing. your white dress hung off the swing, arms resting on the armrest.

your mother watches you and elicits a sigh, her body leans on the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest as she watches you with a bitter smile.

when sunset falls around, you’re holding onto a sword. swinging it with one hand while your dad prepares the grill in the back, trying not to burn down the house.

when you sit down to eat, you’ve forgotten about everything. sitting and just eating whatever was on the table, with a content smile you eat doubles of everything.

once it’s over and you’re walking over to your room, your mother pulls you into the kitchen randomly. your wide eyes scan her, and she holds a box of strawberries, nudging it at you.

“oh, thank you,” you grab the box from her, “how’d you know i’ve been craving these.”

your mother smiles knowingly, watching you pop one in your mouth with a grin.

“seonghwa dropped by,” you slowly look up, swallowing.

“okay,” you squeak out, eyes flickering to wall behind.

she then leans back, “he brought the strawberries,” you paused, “he said you would be craving them.”

with a frustrated sigh you put the box on the counter, your mother leaves the room, and you glance at the strawberry you held in your hand.

the only person who knew you were wanting these were san, who you sent at the ungodly hours of night to the market. considering that, seonghwa would have no idea about this unless san told him, which was unlikely, or seonghwa watched over you.

you run to grab your jacket and leave your house to walk to the palace. frowning at the audacity of this man, who can’t seem to talk to you up front and instead becomes a coward.

you march inside the property, dismissing the stares you were getting because first, you’re in the palace, second, you’re marching in furiously and third because you’re not exactly wearing the clothes seeing the weather.

you knew seonghwa wouldn’t be in his new room, so your best option was to barge in his office. and that’s exactly where he was, standing and glancing out the windows.

“park seonghwa,” you burst in through the door, eyes falling on his tall figure dressed in black, leaning on the window frame.

he glances over his shoulder before looking out the window, his eyes are shut and his fingers grip the frame.

“what are you doing?” you say, “hm? sending those stupid strawberries instead of actually coming to talk to me?”

your clench your jaw at the lack of his response, “why do you suddenly seem to care now when you haven’t spared me a glance in the last two weeks!”

you exhale harshly and walk up to him, grabbing his arm and turning him around. his face shows no emotion, and you push his shoulder, “why! why aren’t you saying something?”

“what do you want me to say?” he responds and you bite the insides of your cheek, hearing his voice after so long, it still shoots butterflies in your stomach.

you stare at him in disbelief, “hwa,” you whined. “what’s wrong with you, i’ve apologized so many times and yet you never say anything!”

you continue, “i know you send those meals by the hands of the maids,” your eyes tear up. “i know you see me around the palace but choose to ignore me, i know you walk by our room every night so that you know i’m inside, i kno-“

“god damn it! do you even know why i went to the war?” you yell, eyes flickering between him and the floor.

“to protect you, you don’t know this but a day before the war.” you pause, contemplating if you really want to say this.

the night before the war, yeosang burst through your office doors, yanking your arm and dragging you to his office without even getting the chance to say hi.

“yeosang, w-what’s going on?” you ask the man holding your wrist, stepping in his room only to see a patient bandaged over his legs, arms and head.

you glance at yeosang in confusion, asking him to explain why exactly he brought you here especially when there’s someone he’s tending to.

before yeosang gets the chance respond, the man in front immediately stands up, hissing and then bowing.

“gener- your highness,” his low and gritty voice goes onto introduce himself, “i can’t reveal my name, but i have to tell you something.”

you exchange glances with yeosang who nods, ushering you to a chair, and he comes to stand behind you.

“what happened to you?” you ask out of worry, eyeing the white bandages over him.

“dorado,” the man says, “dorado is after you.”

you tilt your head, “dorado, the one we all helped?” he nods turning to yeosang.

“they’re the one who will be attacking you, they’ll be planning for night, perhaps in the castle as well.”

he stops, “but your highness, they’re also planning to kill off eden’s heir.”

yeosang watches the man, stunned. “seonghwa? the duke?” and the man nods.

you and yeosang exchange glances before looking at the man in unison. “explain everything to us in detail.”

“a messenger had come to the palace telling me and yeosang, that they were after you! the enemies were going to kill you park seonghwa!” you cry out loud, “and you want me to sit back and watch my husband die when i knew what was going to happen?”

“but no! of course you wouldn’t listen,” you breathe out loud and shaky, “did you want our child to grow without their dad?”

your eyes drop to his hands, the ones he’s gripping the windowsill with. “do you think that i, i would let you die?”

“for the love of god, seonghwa say something!”

tears roll down the apples of your cheeks, the wind coming from the window stinging as the man standing in front of you turns his back. looking out the window in silence, pretending as if there is no one in the room screaming at him.

your shoulders slump down, a hand taking through your hair you shut your eyes in frustration as tears rolled down.

all you could feel was emptiness, frustration, anger and pain.

“the day you quit being a general, is the day everything will go back to normal.” you hear his voice cut through the silence.

you stare wide eyed at the man, mouth parting to form out words but you’re so shocked at what he goes on about that nothing comes out.

“seonghwa,” you grit out, “how dare you.” you spit out with such a tone that it has shivers running up his body.

“how dare you ask me to quit something i have spent my entire life working for.” you stare at him with such disgust and anger that you lift your hands up by your head.

“what you do,” he says, “only brings problems, and going to a war?” he says with a scoff and you shoot him a glare.

“i’ve spent my entire life to protect you, your parents and your home.” you take a step forward, “you,” you point at him, “you wouldn’t even have been alive if not for me, you have no right to tell me what to do, you’ve lost it all.”

you hastily grab your wedding ring, the one he gave to you with such adoration and love. but now it burned into your skin, just like the way his words cut you.

“i’m selfish,” you repeat the words he told you, “i’m horrible, park seonghwa i will show you how selfish and horrible i can be.”

clenching your jaw, you slipped off the wedding ring, griping it in your hands tightly because it hurt, it hurt letting everything go.

“go find yourself a princess, who’ll bear your children and make you happy by not going to a fucking war.”

you slam down the jewelry on his table with such force that you’re sure it will create a mark, he jumps at the sound but never looks back.

you stare at his back for a few beats of silence, “i’ll leave.” you wipe the tears rolling off your cheeks.

“but hear this,” you pause, fists shaking and eyes staring at the shiny ring on the table.

“don’t you ever come looking for me, do you want a divorce? send me the paperwork and i’ll sign it, and then i’ll leave.” you pause to inhale, “i’m sorry to you, and to my baby for putting you two in danger.”

seonghwa spins his head, so fast, eyes wide. “my? ‘my baby’ so i’m nothing, it’s not ours?”

“nothing.” you grit out, “never have, never will.”

“i’ll send a letter when the child’s born, until then, don’t you ever come to me, you had the chance to fix this.” you point your finger at him, “we could’ve fixed this right here, but now, don’t come begging for my forgiveness.”

you turn on your heel and with one last glance over your shoulder. “because i won’t forgive you, this comes from general y/n.”

“goodbye, your highness.”

“yeosang, just go back.”

you stared at the blond, a rag in his hands as he runs everywhere to clean the surroundings.

“t-that won’t happen y/n,” he turns around, leaning his elbow on the table behind. “that’s between you and seonghwa, i’m here as not only a friend but your doctor.”

you lean back on the cushioned chair, “you don’t have to come over every day, i’m fine here alone, really.”

yeosang lets out a sigh, folding the rag and walking forward to sit opposite you. “y/n, i will come over any day i can, the other’s will too, until seonghwa-“

“just don’t,” you stop him, “i don’t want to hear anything from him.”

“y/n.” he gives you a look.

“yeosang.” which you return, pressing your lips together.

he eventually lets out a sigh and then lifts his hands by his side, “you win, whatever.” you grin, grabbing a cushion to throw it at the man, who successfully dodges.

“how long are you planning to stay here?” he quips, blowing the nonexistent dirt of the cushion before ticking an eyebrow at you.

“i...really don’t know,” you shrug, “maybe i just won’t ever return?”

“no, no, you can’t do that!” he immediately interjects. “y/n, you have to understand that as much of an asshole your husband is, you can’t top the asshole level.”

you snort out loud, shaking your head. “is asshole even the right word yeo? he’s left me first, and now i’ve left him.”

“what’s the difference?” you quickly add, finding a particular interest to the carpet.

“you’re still wearing his ring,” he points out and your eyes fly to the black band. “you’re living here as if he won’t find out where y-“

“you won’t tell him nothing,” you add, “neither will you or the guys open your loud mouths in front of that man.”

he shoots his eyebrows to his forehead, an amused smile on his face. “that man,” he mocks, bobbing his head to the side.

you two stay quiet for a few seconds until he speaks once again, “will...will you ever go back to him?”

you chose to stay still, sucking on the insides of your cheek. eyes everywhere except the blond’s who sighs in defeat.

“i’ll ask the workers to send in food supplies every week, i’ll be visiting weekly for your check up and don’t you dare do something stupid when i’m not here.”

you let out a genuine smile, “thank you, yeosang, really.”

he shakes his head with a shy smile, “just don’t die on us, and especially on seonghwa.”

“y/n.”

“hongjoong, i’m not going to go and see him.”

“he’s been asking for you— well to me, more subtly, but you know what i mean.” he grunts, pouring a cup of chamomile tea in the fine china.

ever since the day you left the palace of eden, you found home, not at your parents but the villa seonghwa had owned. the balmoral villa, the one by the seashore, the one you two talked about and the one where you wanted to raise your children in.

it had a rustic feel from the outside, but the inside was modern royalty. when you first entered at night, a large portrait of you and seonghwa hung over the fireplace, on the tall walls welcomed you.

it looked so intimidating at night, but when the moonlight shines through the large windows, it looked ethereal. a picture of you sitting and seonghwa standing behind you framed in gold.

you stared at it for a few minutes before eventually leaving, walking around the small villa, to see every nook of it.

but your favourite was the master bed, where a balcony connected to the outside. a view of the sea, with mountains caving in to make it seem private. you saw the silent horizon that day, so dark and brooding but so calming.

you’ve stayed here for around a week now, and your favourite thing was to stay awake until the late hours of the night. a warm cup of tea in hand, a mahogany fleece blanket wrapped around you and your eyes stuck on the single lighthouse in the distance.

a lighthouse in the middle of nowhere, lonely, just like you.

“i couldn’t care less hongjoong, let him ask for me, keep telling him lies.” you sip on the hot tea, shuddering a little.

“but we can’t keep doing that,” you raise your eyebrows at him.

“and what he did to me was right?” you interject, “hongjoong, imagine your husband blatantly ignoring you throughout one the hardest points in pregnancy.”

“and then, sending a stupid box of strawberries as a what? compensation? and when he could’ve fixed things, he tells me to quit being a general.”

“he cares for you y/n.”

you shake your head, “does he? he cares for our baby, i don’t matter hongjoong.”

“and as much as i know me, i wouldn’t dare hurt my child like that. if i don’t matter to him, what’s the point in going back?”

the man in front stays quiet, silently agreeing to whatever you were saying because you were right. his friend had just lost a piece of his mind that he can’t seem to get back right now, your anger is valid.

hongjoong winces at the fact that seonghwa seemed to forget, that the mother comes first, if there is no mother, then there is no child.

you, have endured almost everything. hongjoong glances at you, remembering what you’ve been through not only from the military but even now and yet you set out with a smile.

“if he’ll come back to his senses,” you shrug, “would you forgive him?”

you let out a tired sign, glancing at the man who stared at you. “i don’t know hongjoong, all i know is i don’t want to see him.”

he nods, bringing the cup to his lips. “how’s your health, you know, the kid.”

he watches your face brighten, a hand immediately resting on your stomach. “there’s a little bit of a bump forming, it’s cute.”

he grins against the cup whispering a, “he would’ve been over the moon,” before lifting his eyes to you, “i think the child’s a girl.”

“really?” you ask, wide eyed. “well, whoever the child is, as long as they stay healthy it doesn’t bother me.”

he smiles one again, slowly standing up. instructing you to take your meds, cook food and make sure to eat and lock all the doors and only then fall asleep.

you nod to every single one of them, grabbing his shoulders before literally pushing him outside because the man wouldn’t shut up.

once he leaves, you lock the big doors and press your back against them. sighing as your eye’s glances around the entrance lobby, your thoughts twisted to seonghwa.

“idiot,” you mutter, lowly but it echoes the room. craning your neck down, your eyes landed on your stomach. “your dad’s a big idiot, you know? i hope you don’t go on him.”

“seonghwa.”

“yes,” he stares, “father.”

the older man folds his hands on his knees, “where is y/n?”

seonghwa blinks, flickering his eyes from his fathers to the wall behind. “s-uh, i think she’s at her parents.”

“you think?” he tilts his head when his son doesn’t respond and instead chooses to keep his head down.

“seonghwa,” he starts, “i haven’t seen her around for a few weeks now.” the statement comes off more as threat, as if interrogating the man, eyeing his son with a stern face.

“and you don’t know where she is?”

when seonghwa does decide to open his mouth, his father beats him too it. “fath-“

“you imbecile, she’s your wife! she’s pregnant and carrying your child!”

he flinches at the sudden raise in volume, “but father, she’s-“

“no, i’m not going to hear anything from you.” he interrupts him, “go find her, if something happens to her. park seonghwa you best believe you’re dead.”

seonghwa swallows once his father leaves the room, bringing his head in his hands. shutting his eyes for a brief second only to be fly them open when hongjoong walks in.

“seonghwa what are you doing?” he barges in angrily, taking a seat in front of him. “what big of an idiot are you!”

“hongjoong, if you’re here to lecture me about y/n,” he starts, “then leave.”

hongjoong narrows his eyes at him, “do you know she’s not at her parent’s house?”

“w-what,” he cracks, “then where is she? she was at her parent-“

“was,” hongjoong interrupts, “what is going on with you seonghwa?”

“since when did you,” he raises his fingers to point at the man, “become like this?”

“lo-“

“no, you listen.” he puts a hand up, “seonghwa, you and y/n are married.”

“you’ve, okay, not liked each other at first but somewhere along the line you two have fallen for each other without realizing and it only got deeper!”

seonghwa sits quietly, “you love her, i know you do. everyone knows you do, and even y/n does, so why the hell are you doing this? isn’t it only bringing pain?”

hongjoong watches the man’s face twist into different emotions before continuing again, “seonghwa, grow up. you two have been married for almost two and a half years, and just a war broke it all?”

“the war, if she got hurt then what?” seonghwa finally speaks, “what would i have done without her? what would i have done without our child?”

“it’s her job! be it she’s pregnant or not, she knows better, she knows what protective measures she’s got to take just to protect the small life she’s got inside of her, she’s not a general for nothing!”

“you’re not making anything easy either, you’re forgetting that you love her!” hongjoong lifts his voice, “your mind is stuck on the baby and it’s health! but did it ever cross you how you’ve been forgetting y/n?”

“did you care about y/n getting hurt or only the kid? you yelled and screamed at her for taking your child to the war when all she wanted was to protect the father of her child!”

“did you forget that, the mother comes first?” he lowers his voice, stern yet powerful. “you doing this will ruin your already strained relationship with y/n, and it will affect her health.”

when seonghwa stares at him with his mouth parted, hongjoong stands up and jabs his pointer finger in his chest.

“do you realize what you’ve done seonghwa?”

“fuck,” seonghwa whispers, “oh god.”

“you told her to quit something she’s been doing longer than she’s been married to you,” he grits out.

“i-i did,”

“you yelled at her for getting injured, you didn’t care, you only cared for the child.”

“i did, o-oh my god.”

“you ignored her during when she needed you the most, did you know she cried, she cried because of you?”

“then what am i supposed to do!” seonghwa lets out, breathing heavily. “she came to me the other week and all i did was nothing, i stood while she cried for me to fix things.”

“but you only made it worse.”

“but i only made it worse.”

“hongjoong,” he swallows, eyes getting watery. “what do i do? i don’t deserve her, she won’t come back, s-she’s gone i won’t ever see her hongjoong. what do i do, what have i done— hong-“

hongjoong brings his hands over the taller man’s shoulders. “quiet down.”

“no, no i can’t do that.” he shakes his head, “if she’s not at her parent’s house, then you.” he grips hongjoong’s hands, “you know where she is.”

“please tell me where she is, please.”

he sighs, “seonghwa, only you know where she is.”

“i-i don’t, i really don-“

“what was her favourite place?”

“just te-“

“think seonghwa, think.”

“i can’t, i just want to see her already!”

“where did she want to spend the rest of her life with you?”

seonghwa pauses, “by the sea.” and it finally hits him like a truck. “fuck, she’s at balmoral!”

and immediately a bright grin covers his crying face, “she’s at balmoral, the villa she wanted to raise our kids at!” he brings a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes as he feels the final tears drop down.

“what are you waiting for then, go on.”

the excitement in him swirls, wiping his eyes he pulls the shorter man in a hug. “hongjoong you’re the best, thank you, i lov-“

“get out.”

“i’ll drop by with groceries in a few hours, stay inside the weathers not good!”

“yes, yeosang now go!” you pushed the laughing man outside, waving your hand as he walks to the car with a smile.

you skipped on your toes lightly, humming as you make your way inside. hearing the rapid pitter patter of your dog running to you, nuzzling his face in your leg as you walked.

you plop yourself on the couch, placing your arms on the armrest and your doberman comes to lay by your feet. switching on a movie while a scented candle’s scent made it’s way around the room, a calming scent of warm vanilla.

eerily similar to seonghwa’s, you sighed at that. unconsciously your eyes land on your stomach, caressing it lightly.

you find yourself not focusing on the movie but on the man you married, your eyes then shift to the entrance lobby. you’d do this every day, maybe a small hope burning inside you said that the said man would walk in.

bring you in his arms, place a chaste kiss on your lips— but that’s where you’d stop thinking. clenching your jaw at the thought of him, you’re mad at him, furious even.

but you still want to see him, yet you don’t know how you’ll react once you do. your eyes then shift to the portrait of you two, at the happiest you two were at.

big smiles decorating your face, so warm and happy and inviting unlike now.

a tired sigh leaves your mouth, slowly getting up to walk down to the sea but halt once your eyes land on the window. shifting the curtain to the side, fat water droplets hit the glass from the heavy rain.

the blue ocean now darker like the sky, moving slowly but scarily. just as you’re about to turn around, the sound of the doorbell ringing stops you and a smile graces your lips.

“yeosang, i’m in the living area!” you yell, quickly tidying up the couch. “come on inside!”

you dog immediately gets on his feet, scurrying away to bark at the door. but he won’t, he knows it’s yeosang.

“yeosang! come in!” you say again, this time with furrowed eyebrows and a hesitant walk to the door.

the doorbell rings once again, “you have the keys yeo,” you mutter lowly, unlocking the door and just as you open the door, the ground from underneath you feels as if it’s slipping.

“y/n.”

you take a step back, hands falling to your side and your eyes fall upon the man you hadn’t seen in weeks.

you’re just staring at him; he takes a step towards you, and you back up. a feeling of panic swirls in your chest, not because you didn’t want to see him but because you didn’t think it would be so soon.

“y-your highness.”

there’s no reaction on your face, but his eyes are wide and glossy as if he just had cried, or from the rain pouring down his face. his lips twitch at the corners but falter down.

“i’m sorry.”

you feel as if your heart is about to burst out because of how fast it’s beating, a warm lump forming your throat that’s so hard to swallow down. his dark hair shadow over his eyes, shinning under the night light just outside.

he’s standing in a black shirt that’s now clung onto him, and you know it’s a very wrong time, but you can’t help but stare at him up and down.

“why are you here?” your voice comes out on tone that’s barely above a whisper, fingers gripping your dress.

“y/n please, just give me chance,” he pleads, and you hear the desperation in his voice.

you step backwards when he tries to hold onto your hand, back enough that he’s standing inside now. the water from outside following inside, and your eyes stare into his.

“please, please y/n i’m so sorry.”

“you need to go away, you’re not supposed to be here.” you manage to say out loud but it doesn’t affect him the slightest.

“y/n,” his low voice rings the hall, “i’m terrible, i know. but please don’t let go, i’m an idiot that didn’t hear you or fix things when you were there.”

“i ignored you when you were in pain and i only made it worse, i made it so easy for you to hate me y/n.”

“the weathers not great, go back please.”

he shakes his head, finally taking a stride towards you and you stay still. his tall self hovers over you and you shut your eyes, inhaling his scent that you thought you’d never smell again.

“please y/n,” he clasps onto your hand, his cold fingers holding into your warmer hand.

“please what?” you say, “y-you’ve done nothing but hurt me, when i went to the war for you, all for you.”

“i didn’t want you to die...i never did,” you look away, “i knew you’d be mad but not the point where you didn’t even look at me.”

“did you know how much it hurt?” lowering your eyes as if it would hide the tears pooling in. “you said you’d be by my side, that we would raise our kids together.”

you let out a humourless laugh, “but it’s as if that never existed,” you finally look at him, who’s staring at you intently and you swallow.

“did you even want to be-“

“i wanted to be there for all of it,” he cuts you, eyes flickering with a dark glint that displayed pain. “i wanted to be there for it all y/n, but i was selfish.”

you don’t realize that your lips are trembling, holding onto your emotions from pouring out. yes, you two had an argument but that doesn’t stop how you feel about him—

“i love you.”

“stop it.” you barely manage to whisper out, that three worded sentence making your insides swoop, shuddering as the cold wind made its way inside.

he shakes his head and you see the tears roll down his cheeks, “i’m sorry y/n, i don’t deserve you, i will never des-“

“please just shut up.”

“i put you and our child in dang-“

“why do you say you put me and our baby in danger?” he says between his sobs, “when you were the one in danger? hm? does your life not matter? your life is the most precious thing to me, are you insane? why do you hurt yourself like this?”

he then kneels on his knees and your eyes widen, only for the water collected in your eyes to fall. you’re standing and he kneels by your feet, head thrown down as both your emotions match.

he keeps shaking his head, lips letting choked sobs as his shoulders shake. “y/n, please, i’m so sorry, i- please just come back, please.” he begs between sniffles.

you shake your head slowly, biting down on your lips. “n-no, not right now.”

he holds onto your hand and brings it to his lips, you try to jerk it back but he lifts his head up. his red and swollen and puffy, nose red and lips parted.

he manages to smile a little, he glances at the band resting on your fingers. you bring your hand back, “you need to leave, just go away.”

“i’m an idiot, please don’t stay away from me-“ he pauses midway, eyeing your tear filled eyes and then on the small bump of your stomach.

and it only breaks him down more, a shaky hand coming to cup his mouth. eyes flickering from yours to the little bump you have, salty tears prickle down his eyes.

“i-is that...” he hiccups, “ours?”

you swallow hard and it only makes everything worse because you yourself choke out a sob. he watches through wonder and tears, knowing that inside was what you and he created.

he wipes the tears by back his hand, timidly bringing a hand to your stomach but before it does, you take a step back.

“y/n, please.”

“your highness, it’s raining out heavily, please go back to eden before the storm worsens.” lifting your head to look out the door, seeing a car in the car distance, presumably the one he used to come here.

“no,” he pauses, “not without you, and not without our little one.”

“you should’ve thought about that months ago, your highness.” you turn around, and he watches you walk away from him with desperate eyes.

“stop talking like that to me,” he says between sniffles, “since when did you go back to be-“

“a general?” you turn your head to the side, “the second you told me to call you ‘your highness’.”

“leave,” you say, turning your head to the side because you couldn’t look at him. “when our child’s born, i’ll handwrite you a letter to let you know.”

“now please,” you pause, “leave your highness.”

“y/n please, just p-“

“leave.” you say out tiredly, holding onto the couch to support your weight. “go away, seonghwa.”

his eyes widen at your words, using his name brought a certain amount of weight onto him, closing his eyes for a brief second, he stands up, wobbly.

“y/-“

you turn around so fast that in seconds you’re pushing him out the door, ignoring his begging, pleadings, and desperate calls for your name.

you slam the door shut, closing your eyes, and lulling your back. you hear him scream and wail your name repeatedly, but you clench your jaw, closed your eyes and pressed your back against the door.

the two men outside, yunho and mingi watch their duke kneel on his knees. one hand on the door as he calls out your name, they wipe their own tears before walking to seonghwa, holding onto two black umbrellas.

building a shield over the man, the two exchange a look. yunho decides to hold onto seonghwa’s shoulder.

“just give her some time seonghwa,” mingi says, flinching at the sudden thunderstorm.

yunho shakes his head, “i’m sorry, but you had a chance, you let it go too quick.”

both the boys pull seonghwa away from the doorstep, his head hung low as hot tears streamed down his face. he doesn’t bother fighting them and lets them drag him back to the car.

sparing your window one last glance, hoping that you would be standing there. watching him leave, but you didn’t. you couldn’t look at him in the eye.

you sat down on your desk, the one in the small office. where a large window pooled in sunlight, the desk you say at now covered with coloured papers and stickers and pictures.

a scrapbook, what yeosang said would be a good thing to pass time instead of sparring swords alone or walking your dog down the small town.

the book was rather small, but it did the job. you’ve been writing your experiences with the baby in it, from when you were too sick or intense cravings at five in the morning or when there was excessive back pain.

you were now a little over four months, you had jotted all the entry’s down, pairing it up with stickers and felt pen designs. you’d always end the entry with the date and time, so that maybe in future you could look back at it.

but when you would swivel your chair around, your eyes would land upon the new set of roses sitting on the far desk. everyday you’d get something by your door or by the hands of yeosang.

“here you go,” he’d chuck it at you when walking by, and you knew it was seonghwa sending all these.

so, you would send them back politely through yeosang’s hands, who would glare at you for making him run back and forth.

“oh my god y/n, this is the third time you’ve asked me to send these back to your lover boy!”

“and you will!” you grin, “thank you!”

he sighs and grabs the roses from you, “i’m not going to be stalling this for long, one day i might just do something that you wouldn’t have excepted.”

“sure, sure.”

maybe you should’ve listened to him, because the scrapbook you made documenting your pregnancy had been sent off into the hands of seonghwa.

“you what!” you said, wide eyed.

yeosang shrugged, “i told you, you two need to sort it out.”

you’d throw a finger in the air for him, and he’d laugh mockingly, before one day the doorbell had rang and a person stood on the other side, holding a giant bouquet yellow flowers in front of their face.

“excuse me?”

and then the flowers were shoved down a little revealing, “you?”

seonghwa, of course, standing there with a big grin on his face.

“hi,” he says and then walk past you inside, “the house is still in good condition, how was everything?”

“why are you here?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing.

he grins, takes a small step, and crosses his arms over his chest. “well, my wife lives here and she’s pregnant and i’m here to take care of her.”

you let out a scoff, “oh yeah? i think you’ve got the wrong house.”

“oh, i’m sure i’ve got the right one.” he smiles, coming closer to you and then snaking a hand around your waist, pulling you to his chest.

“y/n,” his low voice mumbles, “i’ll be staying here with you, whether you like it or not.”

you crane your neck up to meet his eyes, and when you did, he smiles brightly and then pecks your nose quickly and then he’s off of you.

turning around, placing his hands on his waist, and nodding at every room. while you stood in the middle with wide eyes, and a cozy feeling in your stomach.

seonghwa watches you brush past him, and he smiles. looking around before settling his eyes on the large portrait, his eyes turn into crescents when he stares at it.

thanking yeosang for mailing him the scrapbook, he remembers it being chucked at his face and before he could get the chance to yell, the blond man had already walked out.

he hesitantly flipped through the entire book, eyes widening when he realizes that is your handwriting and you’re documenting the pregnancy. he finds it hard not to tear up, making sure to read everything written on. and from that’s where he would send you flowers every day, as it said that you liked smelling them this time around. or sending prepped meals, baby clothes, clothes for you and more.

he’s decided that you may not forgive him easily, he’ll still be by your side, to fill in the hole he left when he wasn’t there.

so he makes sure to wake up before you every day, cooking your breakfast, lunch and dinner. doing the cleaning, laundry and looking over you from afar when you would go out a walk.

the only thing missing was, well, your voice.

because you didn’t say a single word to him for the days, he’s been doing this, nonchalantly walking past him or pretending he isn’t even in the villa.

you’d quietly eat the food being made for you, although not saying anything verbally, he already knows what you would say.

sometimes he’d get lucky hearing you talk, precisely when he had started to sleep on the couch because he wanted to give you your outmost privacy.

“your highness,” he grins ear to ear, “this isn’t necessary, go back to your duties in eden.”

“my duty is you, y/n.” he says with a slight tilt of his head, catching the slight widening of your eyes.

“it is-“

“no, never, don’t say a word.” he comes to stand right in front of you, “i’m never leaving you out of my sight again, i’ll stay here with you not caring if you hate me or not.”

your stomach would flip at the words and sometimes you think it’s the baby reacting to their fathers’ words.

“your-“

“seonghwa,” he interrupts, “but hwa could work too.” he shrugs his shoulders with a pout.

with a wink he would walk past you, doing something in the house and you’d groan before locking yourself in your bedroom once again.

but recently you’ve been leaving your door slightly ajar, or well seonghwa had told you too, forcibly. knowing that if you would be in some type of pain, he wouldn’t have to break the door down and would rather just barge in.

you silently agreed because the night prior you had a slight pain shooting from your stomach, not that serious, but bad enough for you to slip out a few low groans.

so, you didn’t expect to be up at four in the morning, turning on the bed constantly before sitting up tight and immediately feeling an immense amount of pain shoot through you.

you figured it was the surprise movement or the contractions, or whatever because you really couldn’t think right now. your brain screamed at you to get up, but all you could do was groan loudly.

you shift in an effort to make it better, but it only makes it worse, and it’s as if your grunts were so loud you heard rapid footsteps running down the hallway.

“y/n!”

you bite down on your lips, clutching the sheets as the pain doubled. squeezing your eyes shut on impulse but they shoot open just as the door breaks open.

there stood a heavily breathing seonghwa, eyes widened, and mouth parted. he yelled your name once again, this time coming by you.

he cringes at your pain and panics, eyes frantically searching your face before he helps you sit up.

“it’s o-okay,” his shaky hands brush your hair away, “stay still i’ll be right back!”

“the medicine is top left drawer!” you manage to yell, falling back on the bed while one hand rested on your forehead.

“hurry up!” you yell, grunting and groaning until seonghwa zooms in right beside you.

he slowly helps you sit up, holding your hand tightly as he kept mumbling sweet nothings. he hands you the medicine and you gulp it down, he holds onto you firmly, brushing away the strands of hair.

you hold onto his shoulders, trying not to let out a scream of pain. he welcomes the tight grip you have on him and places a hand behind your head, lowering it to his shoulder.

his other hand softly rubs your back as you squeeze your eyes shut, “i-it hurts,”

he hums, swallowing and then tucking your face in his neck. “you’re alright baby, you’re okay, you’re with me.” he mumbles against your ear and you tighten your hold onto him.

“get away from me,” you grit out, “go get yeosang.”

he immediately nods, not wanting to leave pull away from the embrace. “o-of course, i’m sorry. do you need anything else? anything at all?”

you shake your head, “get the doctor, get yeosang and get away from me.”

“but you’re hurting,” his quips, voice full of uncertainty. “i’m not going to leave y/n.”

“j-just go.” you push his chest away, curling your fingers around your dress instead.

he nods shakily, “alright, i’ll go get yeosang, if you need any-“

“just go!”

your loud yell makes him flinch and sighs softly, letting go of your body knowing he’s the one to blame of this situation. he stands up, looks over at you in worry before walking out the door.

“alright y/n, i’ll go get him.”

you fall back immediately, wanting for it all to stop. curling up in a fetal position you hold onto the pillow until yeosang comes, seonghwa watches you from the door.

one hand holding the phone to his ear while his eyes flickered glints of pain, he hears every instruction the man says. biting down on his lips, he watches your expression morph into relief, and he thinks the pains over.

he watches you fall asleep, walking in quietly and then lifting the blanket up till your shoulders. bunching up your hair, out of your face.

his knuckles brush lightly against your cheek, and he shudders, “i’m sorry,” he whispers “please forgive me.” and then lowers his face, pecking your cheek for a brief second and then places a pillow by your back.

he finds himself sitting outside your room, the door to your room slightly open. he thinks in case of another situation like this, he’ll be able to get inside quicker to rush to your aid.

he backs himself to the wall right by the door, straightening his legs and then closing his eyes until morning hits.

when you wake up the next day, your eyes hastily glance at the clock. cursing lowly at how late you’ve woken up, groaning and then getting up to freshen yourself up.

when you walk out, you pause when your eyes fall upon seonghwa sitting on the floor, sleeping.

you clear your throat, “your highness, hey.” you tap your feet on the wood twice. when he doesn’t move, you bite the insides of your cheek and then glance left and right.

slowly lowering yourself to his eye-level, your eyes fall over his face. cheeks swished against his shoulder, hair over his eyes and his lips all pink and pouty.

you find yourself smiling, lifting your hand out and brushing his hair to the side. doing so only made butterflies erupt inside you, caressing his forehead lightly you feel tears trickle in your eyes.

“why do you do this hwa?” you whisper to yourself, “you’re a big idiot you know, i hope our kid doesn’t go on you.”

you poke his cheek, “you made me cry a lot you know?” and then poke his pillowy lips.

“i should hate you,” you whisper, “i do, don’t get me wrong.”

you sniffle a little and then dare to bring your face close to his, quickly wanting to place a peck on his forehead and then leave and then pretend a different nothing had happened.

when you inch closer, his eyes shoot open and he grabs you by the waist, making you fall onto his lap.

your eyes widen, “h-hey! seo- your highness, this is inappropriate!”

he grips your waist, “and what you did wasn’t?” you stare into his eyes and then look away.

“this is how we’re supposed to be y/n,” he says softly, “i love you, i still love you with every fiber in body. i’ll have it engraved to my tombstone, so even death can’t do us apart.”

he inches closer, lips grazing your neck. “so, miss general, please let me back in.”

you stay quiet, looking off into the hallway before shoving his hands away. “go sit at the table, i’ll make the breakfast this time.”

and that’s when he smiles big, squealing and then tucking his face in your neck. giving you a tight hug before letting you go; you hear his excited giggles while you walk away with a small smile.

“whose shirt is that?” the minute you walk out the shower seonghwa questions you.

sitting on the couch, a book in hand and legs crossed. he watches you walk out, in a white shirt, wet hair and his black ring that brought a smile on his lips.

“where’s yeosang?” you ask, grabbing a glass of water and bringing it up to your lips.

“that’s his shirt?!” he yells, eyes widening he stands up.

you throw him a glance, “i said where’s yeosang?”

“who’s fucking shirt is that?” he smirks, coming up behind you till he’s front is pressed against your back.

“it’s mine, what’s your deal.” you hear him let out a low hum, snaking a hand around your waist. his eyes fall on the collar, and he ticks ups an eyebrow.

and then smiled shyly, resting his chin on your shoulder he brings both his arms around you, intertwining his hands at your front.

“you could’ve told me if you wanted more of my shirts,” he mumbles, “this ones kind of boring hm?”

you grip the glass tightly at that, flickering your eyes from the table to the ground. and then you feel him press against your back, making you shiver.

he kisses your neck and softly taps your stomach, “i’ll be home later, okay?” you inhale sharply the minute you feel his warmth leave and then groan.

when he comes back, the house is quiet. grinning to himself he walks to change in his night clothes, and then jumps onto the couch.

he lets out a sigh of relief, knowing he clocked the doors and you’re fast asleep, and the progress between your relationship is working to a good end.

he brings his hands behind his head and leans back, leaning into the couch as he shut his eyes.  

and it’s as if ten minutes later, his eyes shoot open when he hears a call for his name. he shakes his head and looks around, when he doesn’t hear anything, he pulls the blanket above his head.

but then just two minutes later, he hears a louder cry for his name. this time he yanks the blanket down, panic swirling in his chest once he hears a louder groan.

he stands up, glancing at the clock, frowning at the later hours of might. he quietly walks himself down the hallway to your room, eyes widening when he hears the voices coming from your room.

he steps closer and brings his ear against the door, eyes widening when he hears your low moans for his name. his hand rests in the doorknob and just as he’s about to twist it, he pauses when he hears a breathy call of his name.

his eyebrows furrow, “y/n?” he calls out in worry.

you pause, biting your lip when you hear his voice. you glance down at your fingers against your folds and then to the door, “d-don’t come in!”

you lean yourself against the bed frame, inching your fingers closer to your wet folds and then slowly starting to move them.

“why? what’s going on?”

you hear him say just as you fasten the speed, biting down on your lip so that a mewl won’t escape.

“seonghwa,”

he stops and then he groans, “shit, y/n, baby let me in.”

and you push your fingers in, shuddering as you pumped in and out. your other hand travels to your breast, softly kneading while your fingers worked in and out of you.

he knocks on the door, pressing himself against the door when he hears you moan out his name. swallowing when he hears the pretty voices of yours, he hasn’t heard in a while.

“y/n,” he says lowly, and you cry his name out, he finds himself closing his eyes and letting out shaky breaths.

“seonghwa,” you cry out loudly and the doorknob shakes, parting your lips as you let out a silent scream.

“fuck,” he groans, his own self getting impatient. “baby, open the door for me.”

you shake your head as if he could see you, feeling the wetness starting to pool out of you. your chest heaving up and down while your mouth keys out pretty voices that has his cock twitching in his pants.

“baby, louder,” he says, “i can’t hear you.”

and as if on demand, you whine out loudly. he curls his fists, trying to control himself to not barge in until you say so.

“y/n, let me in please.” he begs, biting his lips, hard enough to perhaps draw blood.

“d-don’t.” you let out shakily, shutting your eyes as the heat started to coil up in your stomach.

“but i can make you feel so good,” he says breathily, “i know that body like my own cock.”

you mewl at his words, “just go away!” you squirm, “or stay put.”

abs he chooses the second option, looking down at the tent forming in his pants before looking at the door.

he finds himself getting needy, palming his own cock slowly. closing his eyes and leaning back on the door, mouth parting when he hears your voices.

he tries to imagine you but whines when he can’t, “y/n,” he says once again, shutting his eyes as he feels his cock twitch.

and then there’s silence from the other side, he places a hand on the doorknob and twists it and to his surprise the door opens wide.

he turns around and inhales sharply when he sees you sitting on the bed, your fingers inside your pussy and moans.

he walks inside when you stare at him, your legs shut close when he stands by the end of your bed. his eyes showing a dark glint and teeth gnawing on his bottom lip, he then gets a hold onto your ankles and pulls you to the end.

you let out a surprise yelp when he spreads your legs wide, he shuts his eyes and rests his forehead on yours. “please let me fuck you properly baby,” he grits out and you whimper, “let me make you feel good.”

he kneels down and placed his larger hands on your thighs, “y/n, look here.” you look away as the heat rushes to your cheeks, you close your legs, but he holds onto them and spreads them wider.

“no baby, let me see this, it’s all for me.” he then trails a finger down your clit and you shiver, he then lowers himself close to your already wet and needy center.

“tell me to stop right now and i will,” he looks straight at you, fiddling with your dress as bunches it up.

“can i?” his hot breath fans against your inner thighs and you close your eyes, “c-“

“yes, just hurry up!” you say out loudly and he smirks, holding onto your waist he dips his head between your legs and you cry out at the sensitively from your previous high.

you lay back on the bed, elbows holding you up as he dives his tongue inside of you. lapping at different speeds and eating you out as if the man has been starved for days.

“shit,” you whine, “h-hwa.”

“so pretty,” he says in between, diving his tongue in making you let out a moan for his name that has his cock twitch, and he moves in and out of you skillfully.

alternating from long slow licks to small circles with his fingers to his tongue lapping sinfully against your clit until he's had his fingers easily sliding in and out of you.

you close your legs, and he growls lowly, using his hands to part them as he finds a particular interest in sucking on the nerves that have you rolling your eyes back.

“c-close,” you whine out and he delivers a particular harsh suck that has you screaming his name and coming off your high.

he places hot trails of kisses by your inner thighs and then looks up at you, your head thrown back, chest heaving up and down heavily and the sweat lined against you.

he then stands up to hover of you, your eyes shut tight, and he smiles. “y/n,” he places his lips onto yours, you respond back after a few seconds and he smiles, finally feeling them on his.

you wrap your arms around his shoulders, “i’m sorry,” he mumbles against your lips and you pull back to rest your head back.

“i’m sorry too,” you mutter, he tucks his face in your neck, wrapping his arm around yours.

“i’m the one at fault,” he says, “you don’t need to apologize.”

you hum, running your hand through his hair. “will you let me back in?” you hear his quiet voice by your ear.

“seonghwa, i’m horny right now,” he chuckles, “you saying that sentence is making me think dirty thoughts.”

“do you want me go in?” he asks, purely out of playfulness.

“hm, do it right now.” you mumble lazily and he shoots his head up.

“are you serious?” he asks, genuinely surprised at your words.

you nod, “i heard pregnancy sex is the best, i want to try it.”

he laughs at your straightforward manner and shakes his head, “baby i don’t want to hurt you,” he moves his hand to your stomach. “or our little one inside.”

“just do it,” you open your eyes to meet his shiny ones, “i won’t let you do later on.”

he puckers his lips, “but won’t it hu-“

“no, it won’t, trust me.” you say, “hurry up!”

he shakes his head, “not right now baby, let’s do it next time.”

you laugh, “next time?” you shake your head, “no next time hwa.”

“just one? what about the five kids we wanted?” you smack his shoulder and then cup his cheeks.

“park seonghwa, the next time you do shit like this i’ll break you.”

he grins, swooping you up in his arms. you yelp but wrap your arms around his neck anyways. he has a grin on his lips that you haven’t seen in a while and it makes you feel as if everything’s settled, he glances at you from time to time and you see the same love you used too.

when you two lay on your bed side by side, he seems to have a permanent pout on his face as he sulks in your neck. you smile and lift your hands to run through his hair, he wraps his arm around your waist and nuzzles into you.

he places a soft peck on your neck before getting comfortable, bringing the blankets up and nuzzling into you. his hand rests on your stomach, caressing it lightly before falling asleep beside you. this was the best sleep you two had gotten, in a while.

and the next morning it’s as if his demeanor changed, he woke up before you but stayed in bed to admire your face. his lips met your forehead, nose, and then your lips as he looked at the glow shinning on your face.

he helps you with your sickness, doing chores that would usually be easier for you, bringing you all the strawberries and meals he had.

and you returned it with having him to run across town to bring you that one thing you ate months ago or shoving him inside the shower fully clothed because you thought he smelled weird, three times.

or him borrowing that book of names from your dad, that he reads every day before sleeping, suggesting you to name the child a name he heard in a movie.

or when he visits the town to bring home little clothes, shoes, hats and socks for your unborn child. he comes in giggling while holding bags full of stuff he bought, he then compares the sizes between his ginormous clothes to the baby ones.

he caresses your stomach one in a while, mumbling how, “good you look filled up with me.” and you smack his arm away.

how when you bump had finally grown more, you screamed his name and lifted your shirt. he came in running, a spoon in his mouth and the plate of pasta he held now chucked to the side.

he pokes at your stomach and feels the bump, kneeling in front of you. when he kisses your stomach, it usually ends up with him crying because he’s way too excited, more excited than you.

and when the guys noticed the bump, they all squealed so loud. especially mingi who seemed to be the most excited out of all, also who seonghwa had to shoo away.

the guys walk in at any given time of the day, sometimes when seonghwa has to tend to his duties, one of the guys would come and keep you company. cracking jokes or guessing the gender or the name you had thought off.

it’s as if time slipped, and your belly was even more swollen. yeosang who comes for your daily checkup, jumps on his feet whenever he feels the baby kick through his stethoscope.

“you’ll be due soon,” he’d say, and it only made you more nervous, because you had heard about the pain one experiences, or how some don’t make it through, or if you would be a good m-

“what’s your pretty little head thinking?” you break off from your trance to look at seonghwa, who laid beside you on the bed.

your hand reaches up to your belly, “nothing, just wondering who the kid will go on.”

he smirks at that, “on me of course, they’ll take my good looks and my brains.”

you snarl at the man and bring the sheets up to your chin, getting comfortable and closing your eyes.

but it’s as if god has different plans, at exactly 3:44 your eyes shoot open. your hand goes to your stomach and then you feel it, your water’s broken.

you look at seonghwa who’s sleeping with a content smile and poke his face, “hwa, hwa get up.”

he stirs in his sleep and lazily opens his eyes and hums, “hmm whaat is it, do you want mo stawbehies?”

“no,” you lean down, “my water broke.”

he squishes his cheek against the pillow and mumbles out a soft, “what?”

you roll your eyes, “the baby’s coming!” you yell, “right now!”

and it takes him no time to jump off his bed, he first looks at you wide eyed and mouth hung open. his hands are up by his head as if someone has arrested him and then he screams, loudly.

you’re sure all the lights of the villa are turning on, seonghwa picks you up from the bed and runs down the room you two had prepared beforehand, he lays you down on the bed and when he sees your face contorting into pain he screams, yet again.

“get the midwife!” he yells at himself, running in his doodle filled pyjamas down to grab the midwife.

at this point, everyone’s awake. the maids who are patiently waiting outside in the hallway, both yours and seonghwa’s parents standing by each other guessing who the baby will go on.

the guys who are half awake standing in their matching pyjamas that you bought for them in a group set, betting money on if it’s the gender they guessed on.

seonghwa’s inside the room, walking back and forth as if he’s the one who’s pregnant. the midwife and her workers help fix the room while telling you breathing exercises, you listen to them as you laid comfortably.

“stop running around,” you tell him, your feelings totally contrasting. he’s panicking and you’re sitting all relaxed.

“your highness,” the midwife bows, “you should wait outside.”

“oh no, no, no!” he immediately disagrees, “i’m staying here, by her side.”

“but yo-“

“no questions asked,” he says and you stare at him wide eyed, you’re about to call out for his name but then you feel the pain kicking in.

“seonghwa!” you yell and he’s immediately kneeling by you, running a hand through your hair as the pain worsened.

“it’s happening,” the midwife says, “hold on tight miss general, you’re in for a ride.”

and you scream immediately.

“it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re doing amazing!”

“park seonghwa, shut up!”

“no no, i read this in the books, if i keep talking to you-“ he’s cut off by him screaming as you grip his hand hard.

“i’m never going to let you do this again!” you yell, breathing heavily as a layer of sweat washes over you.

“you’re doing great, breathe, our child’s almost here.” he watches you groan and yell and push and cry and his respect for you grows every second.

he kneels to your face, wiping away the sweat and tears by a towel. “you know, this isn’t the right time, but you look really hot right now.”

you push his face away and yell, the midwife cries out in happiness as she tells seonghwa to do whatever he did once again.

he nods immediately, holding your hand in his. “are you ready for kid number one?”

your eyes grow wide and the midwife screams, “park seonghwa, this is the one and only-“

“one more time! your highness, one more!”

“i know we just had my birthday, but we should have that night aga-“

“no!” you scream, gripping the sheets tightly and shutting your eyes.

he caresses your forehead while holding your hand, “i bet it’s a prin-“

“it’s a princess!” and you hear the crying of a child.

your body falls in a pool of relief, and your eyes cry out a river. your mouths hung open as you breathe in and out, trying to catch your breath.

the midwife comes with a big smile, carrying a small body frame in her arms, with a smile she places the body on your rising chest. your trembling hands hold onto, your daughter, your newborn daughter.

your eyes immediately move to seonghwa’s and find him hiding his face in his arms, you ask him to lift his head up and once he does his eyes water more. you nod and take his hand to bring it over your daughter, his face quickly breaks out into a big smile.

he inches closer and the midwifes move to the bathroom the room for privacy, his eyes fall out fat droplets of tears as he looks at you and then to the small face tucked into a cloth.

his wide eyes turn onto crescents when he notices the baby, her cute chubby cheeks, her little lips and her small little hands.

“s-she,” he sobs, “our daughter.”

you nod and ask him to hold her, he says no at first, telling you that his hands are too big or what if he drops her. you take his hands and then gently hand him your little princess.

“our princess,” he says, eyes flickering to you and to the baby he coddles.

“our daughter, princess of eden, park hwayoung.”

eight months later.

you and seonghwa huddle up together, opening the door to your daughter’s room slowly in hopes that the noise won’t disturb her sleep.

but when you do open the window, she’s standing with her arms leaning over the crib wall. opening her little mouth yawning, stretching her arms over her head dramatically before falling down on her bed.

seonghwa coos beside you and you hurry inside, “hwayoung-ah!” you say, and her eyes fly to yours, widening and sparkling.

damn it, just like her dad.

she lifts her hands up for you to pick her up, once you do, your brush her short hair back and she giggles before pointing at seonghwa who stood behind you, with his arms wrapped around your waist.

“hi princess,” he says and she reaches for his cheeks, planting her small hands on his skin.

“ha!” she says and you laugh, making seonghwa frown.

“it’s da-da hwayoung, not ha!” he whines in your ear, and she does nothing but call him ‘ha’ again.

you smile sheepishly because you know it’s your deeds, you call seonghwa ‘hwa’ so much that your daughter had picked it up too.

but since she’s little and wobbles over her words, she calls him “ha!” instead of “hwa,” which everyone finds too adorable.

she smiles when she sees seonghwa pout, her little giggles filling the room and you realize how grown she had gotten so quick.

you still remember the very first month, both you and seonghwa didn’t leave hwayoung alone for even a second. building a makeshift bed for her in between you two, she’d sleep half her day away.

her hands curled up onto little fists, sleeping like a starfish, her frame wrapped in a yellow duckie blanket gifted to her by mingi.

the second month was when you two really experienced the chaotic energy she had, waking up at the most spontaneous hours of the night, crying and screaming and then laughing and playing the other second.

the third month was when you and seonghwa would have a breakdown, you remember how when you asked seonghwa to change her diaper and he stared at you with horror.

he would use the tip of his fingers to remove the diaper and then with your help change it for her, while she either slept away or moved way too much.

seonghwa still finds it horrifying when he remembers his own stories with hwayoung.

but as months passed by, at five months was when you two heard her say her very first word.

“mama,”

and you cried out of joy, shoving your face into seonghwa’s, celebrating your win over the small contest you two had over who’s name would she say first.

the next shocker you had was when you were in her room, cleaning her toys up and you looked back and saw her standing up on her feet.

you immediately called seonghwa over and he comes in with a camera with him, filming the very first steps of his daughter.

when it hit eight months, you two had kind of gotten the hang off your daughter. and it was the best feeling to see her every day, screaming or laughing or looking at you with those eyes of her dad’s.

whenever you would scold her, she would widen her eyes and stare into your soul.

needless to say, she’s a carbon copy of seonghwa’s personality and a mixture of both your face.

aside from the eyes, she had the cutest cheeks you had ever seen, pouty lips and a contagious smile that brightened the room wherever she went.

seonghwa had also gone out of his way to get hwayoung anything her eyes laid on, which included dresses with strawberries on them.

one thing your daughter absolutely loved was strawberries, no wonder you had craved them so much during her.

she’s just like her dad and seonghwa makes sure to boast it in your face every day, or whenever hwayoung would waddle her way to him when he would come from work.

but she was your daughter, in the end of the day she runs to you with her arms frantically moving up and down and then finally falling asleep in your embrace.

and when she would sleep on seonghwa’s chest because she found it more comfortable, you’d snap a quick picture while seonghwa smiled, caressing her cheek.

when she finally hit the two-year mark, both you and hwayoung had a portrait taken. where she sat on your lap, a big smile on her face, short hair pulled into two pigtails and a pink dress.

that was your new favourite picture.

ah, and well as for your duty as a general. you decided to retire, wanting to be by hwayoung’s side all the time. you were now an ex-general, still taking the time in between to train a few newbies.

jongho had become the new head of the army and he made sure to boast it in your face and you’d laugh and say, “i trained you!”

you and seonghwa would carry your daughter everywhere, seonghwa would make her sit on his shoulders while her tiny hands played with his hair, and you’d prop her on your waist while she played with the chain around your neck.

in the end of the day, you and seonghwa would huddle together in the bed tiredly because your daughter had way too much energy.

“let’s not have another kid, she’s enough.”

that was funny because you screamed that same sentence on your second. yelling at seonghwa who only held your hand and helped you through the birth while saying ridiculous things that riled you up.

and this time, it was a boy.

seonghwa had chosen the name this time, hwan.

you remember the little guy screaming in the middle of the might that made you and seonghwa run to the room, most of the time it was hwayoung bothering him and others he was crying for no reason.

he had developed more of your personality but looked exactly like seonghwa, jongho would laugh and call it a “double homicide.”

hwan would spend time with hongjoong often, fascinated by the fact how his uncle played the piano.

who would excitedly teach him how to play and hwan would watch with his cat-like eyes, sitting beside hongjoong while his fingers played the keys.

hwayoung would make the rest of the guys dress up in pink tutu’s and invite them to her tea party, handwriting a sign with swirls and rainbows.

and they’d join happily, calling her their “little princess” who’s order they will forever follow.

others would find it surprising that how the big and bad princes and kings and generals (the guys) would be wrapped around the fingers of your kids.

you and seonghwa, worked even close than before. alternating responsibilities from your kids and then to the royal duties, but you made sure you would always spend time with the kids.

which meant taking them to the balmoral villa by the sea, or them jumping onto you and seonghwa first thing in the morning and then cuddle before falling asleep again.

you would discipline the kids while seonghwa spoiled them.

and then when the day had finally come, seonghwa’s parents had stepped down from the throne of eden.

hand in hand you two stood by each other, dressed in the coronation clothes with crowns over your head.

your kids stood in front of you two, playing with their clothes while pointing everywhere. the photographer snapped multiple photos and they would get broadcasted everywhere just like how the coronation.

you and seonghwa walked out the throne room, hearing the public chant your names and hold the flags of eden. waving their hands to yours, and you two glanced at each other and then laughed.

because in the end you two were together, with a small family of your own. your friends and parents supporting you and a new public who looked after you.

hwan and hwayoung ran to you two, yelling for you while holding their arms wide open. you picked hwan up and seonghwa picked hwayoung in his arms.

asking her to wave at the ones standing there for them, hwan would shy away and bury his face in your neck.

you glanced at seonghwa, and he winks, puckering his lips playfully and you shook your head, looking ahead.

this was it, seonghwa became the new king of eden and you, the queen consort of eden.

and you lived happily ever after.

the end.

previous part. 

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[sandbees]

A few about the Great Seven interacting with Twisted Wonderland characters VIA Yuu. 👀 I only have one word summary; Chaos.

Who would meet the Great Seven first? Obviously the first years (along with Ortho and Grim). They’re Yuu’s best friends after all.

Actually, it was Friday, the last day of the week. And coincidentally, that night would be a special night at the House of Mouse. Ariel and her sisters would be performing that night.

Mickey told Yuu that that they could invite anyone to watch the performance. So Yuu went to get special permission to take their friends along with them.

After kidnapping Ortho After Yuu gathers everyone, they explain that they’re going out to see a special performance at their workplace.

Keep in mind that no one knows exactly what Yuu’s new job was except Grim and Crowley. So naturally everyone was in on it and curious. (Only Grim knows about Yuu meeting the Great Seven though)

Ace: So where do you work at?

Yuu: I work at a club.

Epel: ...As in a strip club or a book club?

Yuu: Wtf Epel? It’s like a club but no alcohol. It’s technically a restaurant but they have live shows and put on a lot of performances so-

Deuce: Oh! That’s cool, we get to see it together!

Yuu: Actually I’m not going to be with you guys. I’m on duty that day so I’ll be waiting tables. But I’ll join during break.

Ace: Really? Bummer.

Ortho: Aw, I wanted to hang out with you too! But it will be fun nonetheless. :D

Yuu tells them to wait downstairs as they go upstairs to get everything ready.

They are low-key nervous, because the House of Mouse isn’t...exactly normal by Twisted Wonderland standards.

Meanwhile, Grim was telling the first years about Yuu’s experiences there.

Grim: You know, the House of Mouse is really popular, I’ve heard about a lot of customers Yuu has met.

Deuce: This job must have been hard...I’m glad Yuu got it though!

Grim: Yeah, they pay them 5,000 madol! Isn’t that great?!

Sebek: 5,000 madol?! That’s a lot more than being a waiter.

Ace: In a week? I mean having a salary of 5,000 is pretty impressive.

Grim: Hehe, it’s actually 5,000 a day.

First Years: WHAT?!

Jack: To be able to pay that much...the owner must be wealthy.

Epel: Yuu lucked out!

When Yuu comes down, the first years are asking a billion questions.

How did you find a job with such a high pay??? Is the work good?? Is your boss nice to you?? Explain everything-

Yuu assured them that their job is just waiting a bunch of tables, and that they’re payed well because the place is very popular.

Anyways, Yuu tells them that they’re going now and leads them upstairs.

“Shouldn’t we be going to the hall of mirrors-?” “It won’t work.”

The group kind of loses their mind as Yuu casually pushes Ace into their mirror, Grim follows behind.

“Come on, or do I have to push you through the mirror like I did with Ace?”

Safe to say is that they go through the mirror and are greeted with a very lavish dressing room.

“Wait woah this isn’t Mickey’s dressing room.”

Yuu finds a note and read it out loud. Apparently Mickey moved the mirror to a new room so they could have privacy. Anything in the room is for their use.

“I’m going to cry. He’s so nICE I DON’T DESERVE THIS-“

Yuu is pretty happy with this arrangement, actually. They also begin to explain the club’s shtick to their friends.

“So this is basically a club for entertainment with live shows and also cartoons on the screen. Oh, and sometimes a cat named Pete tries to sabotage the show so he can kick everyone out and make this his club.” “Isn’t that illegal-“ “Not if there’s no police.”

So anyways Yuu leads them outside and they run into Goofy.

Sebek: Is that-?

Yuu: Hi Goofy, I’m bringing my friends to a table for the show-

Goofy: Yuu! There you are! You’re needed at table 14.

Yuu: What? But my shift hasn’t started-

Goofy: Reservations from Hades himself.

Yuu: Oh shit, ok yeah I’ll be there as soon as possible-

Ortho: Hades? As in the God of the Underworld?

Yuu: Yes, I’ll explain later, more importantly let’s go find you a table.

Ace: I think not telling us you actually met one of the GREAT SEVEN!

Yuu: I did tell you; and you didn’t believe me.

Everyone is vibrating in nervousness and excitement. Especially Ortho. I mean, this is the GREAT SEVEN we’re talking about!

Yuu decides to introduce them to Hades. But surprise surprise, it’s all of the Great Seven!

Yuu’s first year friends are going to pass out from shock. Oof.

With some inquiry, Yuu explains to the Great Seven that the friends they brought were from Twisted Wonderland.

Let’s just say that the First Years got invited to sit at their table. (Sebek is quaking at the idea of sitting with the Witch of Thorns)

So while Yuu leaves to start work (not after taking all of their orders first, of course), the Great Seven begin asking the first years + Grim questions.

The first years are expectantly tense, but they loosen up.

Ursula and Jafar are a little disappointed that no one from their dorm is present, but they seem to easily forget that after Yuu tells them that they know people from their respective dorms anyways.

Yuu also gives them a little more information they found about their respective dorms, so that they don’t feel...left out? (Satisfied is a better word for it)

Ursula pets Grim and Jafar feeds him crackers. Grim does not complain, he’s fine. He becomes more compliant as his tuna arrives.

And some of the other’s thoughts? Well...

The Queen of Hearts almost blew up in anger at Ace and Deuce. They are idiots that do nOT KNOW THE PROPER WAY TO SPEAK TO THEIR SUPERIORS AND THEY HAVE BROKEN AT LEAST 359 RULES ALREADY-

But somehow, the Queen of Hearts warms up to the idiotic duo. She sees them as...annoying children she has to babysit but they’re also really adorable that she can’t stay mad at them forever. Plus, Deuce is trying and Ace has these wonderful card tricks that would make her Jester cry.

So at first, she does not approve, but as the night progresses she does. 8/10 would meet the ADeuce combo again.

Scar and Jack...hm. Well, I don’t think they’d get along of Scar’s sense of morality and justice of the past was brought up. However, the villains all agreed to not bring up their villainous past because they didn’t want to scare away Yuu/make them wary and distrustful of them. Same goes for the first years.

Anyways, Scar is impressed at how buff Jack is. He isn’t surprised though - he expected residents of his dorm to be powerful. Scar lays down some well deserved praise and Jack eats it up with a tail wag. Jack also talks about his dorm and what the dorm represents. Scar’s ego rises 100x and Scar becomes somewhat...egotistical. Well, maybe not like in a “I’m shoving my ego in your face” type of ego but in a “This pleases me and I will treat you kinder” ego.

Basically, Scar opens up a little more to Jack as the night progresses. Like a mentor/student bond.

The Evil Queen and Epel...well, the Evil Queen was quite picky with how Epel was acting. Yes, he had the proper posture but really, he was using the wrong forks to eat that particular kind of food. She expected better from someone who came from her dorm. So she ended up chastising him and scolding him for being “improper”. Like Vil.

She was shocked to say when Epel accidentally snapped back at her, before returning to his more “princely” persona. Ah, so the child had more than meets the eye. She tried a different approach, as in trying to ease Epel into talking to her. Certainly, Epel was much more headstrong and willful than that naive Snow White.

So, the Evil Queen and Epel have a rocky start, but by the end of the show.

Hades and Ortho...well, that’s a combo you never see everyday. But I think Hades would basically adopt Ortho. As in suddenly he gets father vibes from the kid. He’s also particularly interested in his own dorm, and asks Ortho about it. Ortho’s pretty chatty with Hades, and is happy to tell Hades about his dorm! He also asks a few questions himself; which Hades happily obliged to.

...and then it turns into Ortho talking about Idia and how wonderful he is. And Hades is like, “damn, this kid has a wonderful big brother. How come my younger siblings act like shit to me-“

So Hades silently swore to the River of Styx to keep this child safe, and Ortho had a fun time interacting with Hades!

Sebek and Maleficent...well, it could have been worse.

Poor Sebek was tense and tight lipped for most of the night. He really wanted to make a good impression on Malleus’ grandmother. (I don’t think Sebek has met Maleficent yet so-)

Maleficent was patient, however. She knew Fae kind were raised to think of Maleficent as a high authority figure that should be treated with upmost respect. Unlike the other kingdoms; the Valley of Thorns praised Maleficent like a goddess. She didn’t blame Sebek for acting like he was.

So she started with baby steps. Talking about how wonderful it was to meet her grandson’s bodyguard, how Malleus must have grown to be a strong magician, how she wished she had stayed to know more about her grandson.

Actually, the breaking point between the tense atmosphere between the two was Malleus. Sebek opens up a little more as he continues to talk to Maleficent.

At the end of the night, they’ve only talked about Malleus, but Maleficent was content with that. After all, keeping up with what her grandson was doing was more than enough.

By the end of the night, the First Years enjoyed the special performance and their time with the Great Seven. Things went well especially when Yuu came to join during their break.

So when it was time to go, everyone had happily said their goodbyes as they were ready to return.

“Oh, before I forget...Yuu, I have almost completed the portals for the others so do expect one of us to pop in soon.” “Oh, ok!” “...THEY MIGHT VISIT US?!”

Everyone is low key excited to meet again though.

So, the first years go through the mirror and stay at Ramshackle, chatting away at their time at the House of Mouse.

_=_

Yeah, this was a looonngg write, I’m actually going to do the rest of the TW cast in another post. I hope you enjoyed this one! :)